by: Marty Chrisman

Luke slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the glare of the early morning sun. At first he was afraid, convinced that he had only dreamed that someone had found him, that he was still trapped and alone on the mountain. He moaned softly as a jolt of pain shot through his injured leg and into his back. Glancing around, he saw a black horse tethered nearby, grazing on some wild grass that was poking up through the rocks.

“That’s Lobo.” Cory said. He was sitting on the ground beside Luke. He opened a thermos and poured out a cup of steaming coffee. He offered the cup to Luke who shook his head. He still felt nauseated and the thought of eating or drinking anything wasn’t very appealing. “And we’re gonna have to get you up on him to get you outta here.”

“I can’t ride with this leg.”

“You don’t need to ride all you need to do is just hang on.” Cory told him. He picked up the thermos and walked over to the horse. He put the thermos in the saddlebag and picked up the reins, leading the horse over to where Luke was lying. “Come on, Lobo” he said clucking his tongue “Down boy….down.” The horse bent his front legs and knelt down on his knees, putting the saddle closer to the ground. “You ready?” Cory asked Luke once he had the horse in position.

“Just get it over with.” Luke muttered. He clenched his teeth tightly to keep from screaming as Cory grabbed him under his arms and lifted Luke to his feet. Taller then Luke, Cory was also stronger, easily managing to support Luke’s weight. He sat Luke down on the saddle, using the opposite side of the horse than a rider would normally use to mount, knowing it would easier for Luke to get his uninjured leg over the horse’s back. Even that was almost impossible for Luke to do. Cory finally had to help. Luke’s injured leg was throbbing with pain (Not to mention his ribs) and he suddenly felt dizzy and light headed. He had never been afraid of being on a horse before, not until now.

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by: Denise Wallan

Marshal Duke

The spotted Appaloosa stepped from the trail into town, its riders head tipped forward, his eyes looking at the ground with an eye of profession. The bright sunshine caught the Marshal’s badge on his cow hide vest an it shined brightly as the light of the sun beat down on it.

The Marshal eased the horse onto the well worn road into town, the hoof prints that the Deputy Marshal had been following slowly but surely disappeared among thousands of similar other tracks. Bewildered, the young dark haired Marshal brought the horse to a stop at the edge of town and sighed, he had lost the tracks.

“Looks like we did all that fer’ nothing hoss.” The young Marshal shook his head and road on into the town.

He was almost sure that the person he’d been tracking had ridden right into the town and not around it. Highly unlikely as it was, that the outlaw would ride right into the town, even if it was the outlaws place of birth it would be a stupid move. None the less, it was possible, the Marshal thought to himself as he road up to the front of the supply store.

An if anyone, even an outlaw passing through in a hurry, came through they had to stop at the supply store before moving on. There wasn’t another town for miles and miles, an even the hardiest of people couldn’t survive without getting supplies of some kind.

The young dark haired Marshal stepped his horse up to the hitching rail and halted there dismounting and then tethering the horse to the rail. The young Marshal stood before the supply store, a clean shaved and decently friendly face with soft features. His black hair combed back neatly under his dark brown Stetson, his white shirt neatly pressed an peeking out from under his cow hide vest, buttoned up neatly and his black dress pants clean an fresh.

He walked up the steps of the store, his black boots shined and he was met at the entrance by the young, timid clerk. The clerk said nothing, the look of fear still written on his face as clear as the sun shine that beat down through the cloudless sky. The young timid clerk pointed in the direction of the saloon, words weren’t needed to tell the Marshal that this boy had seen the outlaw that he was hunting.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Luke dozed off, only to be awakened by the cold. Involuntarily, he started shivering. His heart began pounding in his chest as he sensed something in the darkness out of his range of vision. He knew there were bears, wolfs and even mountain lions this high up on the mountain. He kept silent, trying not to breathe too heavily, so he wouldn’t attract the attention of whatever was lurking in the shadows. He had never felt more helpless in his life.

Luke had known fear while in the Marines but nothing like this. The air was getting colder. He longed to be back home in his own bed, warm and safe. He wondered if he would ever see his family again, ever get the chance to tell them just one more time how much he loved them. Luke cried out in pain as he accidentally moved his injured leg. He could feel the blackness reaching out for him and he went willingly and without question. At least then, he wouldn’t feel the pain.

Drops of icy cold rain jarred Luke awake. He blinked against the glare of the early morning sun, instantly wanting to close his eyes and retreat back into the darkness. It was starting to rain. Within minutes, it was pouring, drenching Luke’s clothing and chilling him to the bone. His teeth were chattering and he was shivering violently from the cold. Finally, the rain stopped but Luke continued to shiver, his wet clothes keeping him cold and uncomfortable. The storm had also made the air in the mountains cooler than usual which only added to Luke’s discomfort.

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by: Marty Chrisman

The house was still dark and everyone was still sleeping when Luke got up the next morning. Gathering his clothes, he went across the hall from the room he had shared with Bo all of his life and went into the bathroom. He took a quick shower to finish waking up, then went downstairs. It was just a few minutes past five in the morning. Going into the kitchen, Luke made himself some eggs and put a pot of coffee on the stove. Daisy had already packed a cooler for him with enough food to last for three days.

After he had eaten, Luke rinsed off his plate at the sink and filled a large thermos with coffee from the fresh pot he had just made. Grabbing the cooler, he went outside. The rest of his gear was already packed in the General’s trunk. There was still a slight chill in the air as Luke crossed the barnyard to the General and climbed inside.

Pulling out of the drive, he turned to the left and followed a long winding dirt road high into the mountains that surrounded Hazzard. When the road ended, Luke parked the General and climbed out. Taking his time, he unpacked the General and went about setting up his campsite. He put the cooler and a six pack of beer in the cold mountain stream that ran near his campsite. He would use the natural refrigeration of the water to keep his food from going bad for the next three days. He pitched his tent and then built a fire ring for his camp fire. It got cold in these mountains at night.

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