by: BlackJack Murphy

(Rob’s POV)

I stalked slowly through the brush towards Carson, carefully watching around me for those crazy hicks with the dynamite. I knew Carson had caught the fat man and the sheriff and I wanted to be there to help exact revenge. I grinned, seeing the sheriff in the distance, Carson’s gun pointed squarely at his head, his fat friend kneeling with him. Hogg would be next, after he’d outlived his usefulness.

I jumped as a single shot shattered the silence and echoed off the surrounding hills. The sheriff’s body jerked. I heard a slight whimper escape his lips and then he went limp. Hogg eased him gently to the ground.

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by: BlackJackMurphy

(Boss’ POV)

I’d heard most of the phone conversation Carson had just had. I was relieved to hear he was talking to Rosco. He’d obviously gotten away relatively unscathed. I only wish I could warn him not to come for me, as much as I wanted to be rescued.

I guess I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist. At one time, Rosco might’ve been able to pull of a rescue of this type. Long ago, before I got my greedy hands on him. He was a good sheriff, best in the state. But now… I don’t even think the Dukes could help him get me out of this mess. After Rosco got away that night, I’d pretty much resigned myself to my fate. I knew the only reason I was still alive was because they wanted the money… and Rosco.

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(Rosco’s POV)

It was getting late and as much as I wish I could’ve put this whole thing off, I knew I had to start getting ready. I dropped by Boss’ house to pick up the money from my sister. Then I headed home to make my final preparations. I picked out a fresh uniform and laid it on the bed. I took one of my black uniform jackets off the coat rack in the corner and brushed the light layer of dust off the shoulders. If I’m gunna go out in a blaze of glory, I might as well look my best. I smiled a morbid, defeated smile and then sighed as I shined my silver star and pinned it to the jacket. I dressed, packed the money in an old briefcase, packed my weapon, and prayed they wouldn’t find the firearm… at least not until it was too late for them to do anything about it.

Just then, Flash came in to the room and sat at my feet. I reached down, picked her up, and hugged her to my chest. “Aw, Flash, honey. Daddy’s in a heap of trouble this time.” I kissed her head and stroked her wrinkled hide. “Listen, now. If daddy doesn’t come back, I’m sure the Duke family’ll take you in. They’ve got lotsa land with all sorts of critters n’ scents for you to track.” I nearly worked myself into a fit talkin’ to Flash. I needed nerves of steel for this job and if I kept talkin’ to her like that, I’d unnerve myself right out of the whole thing. And I could tell I was unnervin’ her a bit too.

I put her down and patted her head. I picked up my jacket and put it on. Then I picked up the briefcase and walked out of the house, perhaps for the last time.

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by: BlackJack Murphy

(Rosco’s POV)

When I woke, I was in a different room, in different clothes. Must be one of the boys’ pajamas. My arm was nicely bandaged and thankfully still a little numb. The soft, warm sheets and pillows were welcome. I felt like melting into them and sleeping for a week. But I knew I couldn’t.

I forced myself to sit up. I sat there, dazed, for a few minutes. I looked towards the window. Still dark outside. I pulled the covers away and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold against my bare feet. A shiver ran through me. I was weak, but determined. I stood and wobbily made my way towards the door. I leaned against the door jamb for a moment to steady myself.

A figure on the couch in the next room stirred. “Rosco? What are you doing out of bed?”

“How long have I been out?” I asked.

“A few hours,” Jesse replied as he hurried towards me. “We gotta get you back in bed. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need your rest.”

I fended off his attempts to herd me back to bed. “Look, Jesse.” I stared defiantly at the Duke patriarch. “ I may be hurt, but I’m STILL the sheriff and I’ve got a job to do. Now, you can help me do it or I’ll do it alone, but don’t you get in my way.”

The older man shrank back at my words. “Rosco, you know we’ll help you. And I certainly won’t stand in your way if you want to leave. But I don’t see how you can do anything at the moment. It’s the middle of the night. You don’t even know where they’ve taken J.D.”

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by: BlackJack Murphy

(Rosco’s POV)

“I have some unfinished business to take care of first,” I muttered. I pulled some more bullets from my belt and fumbled to reload my gun, flinching at each shot Carson fired. I chanced a quick peek around the tree to get an idea of the position of my next target. I got only a fleeting glance as Carson started firing again.

I took a deep breath then positioned myself facing the tree. I fired off a quick shot then leaned out from behind my cover and pumped two bullets into the radiator. I quickly sought cover behind the tree again and smiled weakly as I heard Carson curse. I could hear the radiator hissing loudly. Well, they won’t be following us in THAT car…

I suddenly realized that the only thing I was running on was adrenaline and I felt like I was quickly running out. I tried to push myself up, but my strength failed me. I’d be damned if I was gunna let it all end here. I gave it a second try and managed to stand, leaning heavily against the tree. “Boss?”

He answered immediately, “We’re here, Rosco.”

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yeah… on your count,” came his reply.

“On three… One…” I breathed heavily, concentrating my gaze on the car barely visible behind the grove of trees. “Two…” I was vaguely aware of Boss and the driver somewhere to my left. Stay out of their way, they’ll be putting off some heavy firepower. “Three!” The thundering blasts from the shotgun assaulted my senses, but I kept my eyes trained on the car as my battered limbs struggled to carry me there.

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by: BlackJack Murphy

(Boss’ POV)

I heard a car approaching and cautiously made my way to the side of the road. I flagged the car down, but it didn’t stop. “Dammit!” I muttered.

I stood there watching the red taillights disappearing into the night. It could be hours before the next car came by. I looked helplessly left and right down the deserted stretch of road.

The minutes passed, but they seemed like hours. Tired of standing, I sat on the damp grass, shivering with each gust of chilled wind. After an eternity of waiting hopelessly, I saw the flash of headlights off in the distance, the thrum of the motor growing as it approached. I pushed myself up and stood with a groan, my muscles sore and aching. I looked at the pistol still in my hand and decided I’d have a better chance of catching a ride without waving it around at unsuspecting motorists. I tucked it into the back of my waistband as Rosco had done and moved to the middle of the road.

The car slowed to a crawl about thirty feet from me, the driver apparently assessing the situation. Hesitantly, I started walking toward the passenger side door. The car rolled forward a bit to meet me and the passenger window rolled down.

“Hey there. Somethin’ we can help ya with?” the driver asked, leaning over his female passenger to see out the window better.

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