by: Kristy Duke

Rough and ragged chills race rapidly across my warm body as I stare silently through the mud splattered windshield as a thick flow of disbelief rushes through me. For a long moment I stare at the rolling hills and the towering mountains that line the distant horizon, taking in farm land with scattered trees and houses throughout. “Any thoughts?” Treyton’s dry voice breaks through the thick silence that had filled the state car to distract my thoughts and my attention, bringing my attention to what brings us to where we are right now. Taking a deep breath I slowly glance away from the peaceful and quiet scenery, I slowly glance down at the thick and lengthy poster I had placed upon my lap upon entering the car. Fear slowly begins to build within me to accelerate my disbelief at the sight of Whinston’s evil face smiling up at me from a black and white picture. A picture of his past and a recent picture in his orange jump suit and chains. After twenty-six long years, how does a man like Whinston escape from the state pen? Even with help? Good should always over come evil and bad. Yet the deaths of the bus driver and the four guards says otherwise.

“On what to do?” I slowly glance up at my partner who holds tightly onto the leather steering wheel, staring seriously at the road that lies ahead, “We go do our jobs…just like any other job we’ve taken. We go in, post the poster and ask around. Hope they haven’t seen nor heard of him and go on our merry way.”

“The sheriff shot and killed his baby brother,” Treyton slowly responds, his disbelief thickly in his voice, “of course he knows of him. I mean Whinston even verbally threatened him in court and silently threatened Jesse Duke while being drug back into jail after being found guilty. They know of him.”

“You know what I meant,” I sigh heavily as I allow his statement to wash over me, thinking of the bold truth behind what he said. Whinston had promised to seek revenge upon the death of his baby brother and now he has a wide range of opportunity to do so. “Where’s backup?” I glance through the side mirror to find an empty road behind us, “I don’t see them.”

“They’re back there,” Treyton responds as he looks back into the rearview mirror, “I think they got cut off in Chickasaw by their sheriff and the truck at the stop sign.”

I nod slowly as my attention goes back upon the evil pictures of Whinston, of the wanted sign we were told to run down to the first town we had thought of where he might run. Due to his threat upon the sheriff. Staring at the picture, my thoughts slowly flow back upon our last trip to Hazzard, of arresting an innocent man and of the key witness that had done everything to stick up for his cousin that had been our first suspect. Of the law and of the people we had met while we had hung around Hazzard. A town I will never forget due to the unique personality that surrounds it. Yet here we are, returning to the town that we had sent out to over a year ago. “Uh Frank,” Treyton’s voice quivers in uncertainty to force my attention onto him, “I think that answers our question we had been sent down here to ask. They’re here.”

I slowly follow the direction of his pointed finger through the windshield to find a thick tree fallen across the road and upon open farm land with an old blue car parked along the side of the road. Four large men stand along the tree, blocking the road, two facing us while two more stand on the other side of the road looking the other way. At seeing us they rise big black guns and Treyton slowly presses the car to a stop as I bend over to dial for back up. “Banks,” the officer gruffly answers on the second ring.

“Banks…you need to get you and the rest of back up to the Hazzard Chickasaw county line road as of now!” I urgently respond into the phone as I draw out my service gun, “We’re there and the road’s blocked with four armed guards. In other words, Whinston’s here somewhere.”

“Yes sir,” Agent Banks says as he hangs up and I slowly glance up at Treyton.

“They’re approaching us, guns raised at us,” Treyton responds, sitting stiffly in his chair while he holds onto his gun.

“Well,” I smile up as I sit up to watch the two men approach, the other two men stationed at the other side of the fallen tree, “what we waiting for?”

“You’re crazy, Frank! This close they’re bound shoot us or kill us,” Treyton shakes his head, “four against two.”

“Well I ain’t getting shot down in your car, that’s for sure,” I shrug as I throw open my door to force the men to halt for a second in surprise, “which will happen if we sit here and allow them to do so. We don’t have time to wait for back up.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Treyton shakes his head, clearly displeased by being out numbered.

I motion him to follow my lead as I boldly step out of the car and the two men come to a stop a foot in front of the car’s bumper. “Y’all have a tree down?” I finally ask to interrupt the silence that had began to build between us while Treyton closes the door behind him. “Perhaps we could call the county and they could move it for you.”

The man standing directly in front of me huffs slighting in displeasure at my remark as I continue to hide my gun, not allowing them to know for sure who we are. “It’s there for a reason,” he finally responds as he crosses his large arms across his thick chest, forcing his bare arms to flex, “and if you had any sense at all, you’d take a look at this,” he unfolds his arms to wave his gun in the air, “and take off in the other direction before it’s too late.”

“Before it’s too late?” I mock him as I glance over at Treyton, “That sound like a threat to you, Trey?”

“Sure did Frank,” Treyton forces an ice chilling smile at the two men in front of us before growing serious, “you must be real brave or perhaps just really stupid to be standing there and threatening Frank like that. Frank doesn’t take threats too well. What you do to the last man that threatened you, Frank?” he pauses for a moment, “Oh that’s right, he’s buried six feet under due to that big hole you dug in him.”

“That was fun too,” I grin wickedly at them before stepping closer to them and they watch us for a moment, clearly uncertain of what to think or what to do. After a short moment, I quickly pull out my wallet to show them my gold star, “Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills. My partner Sergeant Treyton Mueller. You are advised to drop your weapons and surrender.”

The two men look at each other before laughing evilly and raises their guns at us, aiming for our chests. “That’s a joke. You just said your last thing, Agent Mills,” the one in front of me spits, “we don’t surrender to no one!”

From behind us a couple of engines pull up behind our car and out of the corner of my eye I spot our two back up cars filled with eight men. For a moment the two men look at our back up while the two men on the other side slowly climbs over the tree to join with their friends. Just as several of the agents approach from behind us, the man in front of Trey begins firing his gun, the gun shots echo off of the hills in the distance as he misses his first couple of shots before a slug lands into my youngest agent’s shoulder. The agent grunts in pain as the bullet trips him backwards and onto the dusty ground while I and the rest of my men pull out our guns, aiming it him. “Here’s your last warning…surrender,” I answer and the man in front of me shakes his head in disagreement before moving his gun towards me, his finger inching upon the trigger. “Well I warned you,” I grunt as I quickly pull off a couple rounds of my own shots and my first shot lands solidly in his chest, throwing him backwards and his shot missing me by a foot on his way down. “One down, three to go,” I coldly stare at the other three as they stop firing their gun to stare at their dead friend and realization sinks in, that we mean what we say.

“You got lucky,” the guard that had stood besides him spits at me as anger radiates in his dark eyes as he begins to shoot while Treyton and the agents begin to follow the men, firing in return. As another man, a man in the back is struck down by a bullet in the upper stomach, blood rushing down upon the icy cold ground as he lands the man who had spoken bravely only moments ago throws his gun down and followed by the other man that is left. “We surrender.”

I slowly nod at the muscular man that stands in front of me before quickly motioning my men to relax their weapons a bit. “Wise choice,” I offer him a weak grin in knowledge of the bullet of pride he had just swallowed at the sight of his men being shot down. “Banks,” I slowly yell over my shoulder and the oldest of my back up men obediently approaches me while he nervously strokes the thin graying mustache that covers his thin upper lip. “I want you and Ruddy to arrest the final two and place them in our car. You’ll be in charge of the scene while I am out…take care of those who are fallen and in need of medical help and to scout out the scene.” I pause to allow my orders to run silently through me before going on, “I want you pair everyone up when everything is done here and send everyone to scout the other exiting roads leading out of Hazzard. If my hunch is correct, they’ve got the Hazzard blocked in.”

“No one coming in, no one going out,” Banks nods as he relaxes a bit as he glances around at the eight agents that are either arresting and reading their rights to the remaining guards or are attending to the victims that either lie quietly on the ground or sitting painfully upright. “They must be crossing their t’s and dotting each i…damn it.”

“Exactly,” I slowly nod as my fear builds within me as I quietly think of all the men we must be up against if there is four men guarding each exit roads, “Trey and I will take the two men to the local sheriff’s station and have them hold onto them for us. We’ll talk to Sheriff Coltrane and get the low down on everything. If this all,” I motion towards the fallen tree and the guards, “is of any indication of what has struck Hazzard, Hazzard is hip deep into trouble.” Banks nods in agreement as Treyton leaves his government car to join us, “You understand you’re role, Banks?”

“Yes sir,” he nods as he shoves his muscular hands into his coat pocket, “I’m in charge of the rest of the crew while you’re in town. What if we do run into another road block?”

“Meet up with the men on the road that is block. Deal with them one at a time…and together,” I order before looking at Trey, “they ready to go to town?”

“More than ready,” a thin smile slides across Trey’s face as he slowly walks away, towards his open driver’s door.

“You can do it, Banks,” I nod in confidence at him, “need anything, give me call.”

“Yes sir,” he nods towards me as I slip into the passenger seat before glaring back at the two unhappy criminals that sit in the back seat, their hands tightly handcuffed behind their backs.

“Hit it Trey,” I instruct Treyton who smoothly drives around everyone before shooting towards the fallen tree where he quickly drives around it before reaching the Hazzard Road on the other side.

* * * * * * * * *

“Some things never seem to change,” Treyton dryly interrupts the chilly car while he guides his new vehicle off of the dry dusty road and onto an old, cracked concrete road. I nod silently while staring blankly through my passenger window, watching the farm scene disappear into the small town of Hazzard. Old buildings loom proudly around us as we make our way past the fenced in town square and past the tall bank before we reach the brick court house before Trey pulls into an empty parking place. “Looks kinda dark up there.”

“Won’t be when we bring them some business,” I huff as I pull myself out of the car before walking around and yanking open the door to pull out the heavy muscular man who had admitted to being Aaron Caggers while Treyton pulls out Sam Randly. Two of Whinston’s top guards in his gang. “Spose not much happens in a town like Hazzard. The worst offense here is probably bar fights.”

“Yet this is our second stop here in what?” Trey asks as we join up at the old side walk in front of his car before we hesitantly begin to shove our prisoners up the sidewalk that leads to the glass front doors, “Three years.”

“Two and a half,” I nod as I hesitantly glance behind at our car parked solely in the parking lot, “you notice anything, Trey?”

“That we are here for a half hour and,” he pauses as an ornery smile crosses his handsome face before it fades, “and we already caught Whinston’s top guards?”

“Not that,” I yank open the heavy door to shove Caggers into the heated hallway to be followed by Randly and Treyton. “We’re the only ones parked in the parking lot. No Hogg’s Caddy and no patrol cars…you’re right. Seems kinda empty today.”

An evil laugh escapes from Caggers ahead of me whose thick fingers tightly holds upon the small chain that links the two wrist holders on his handcuffs, behind his back. “Hey Caggers,” Treyton says mockingly from behind me, “wouldn’t get too excited if I were you. Us being FBI agents puts us in charge. We’ll just lock you up whether they’re here or not.”

Caggers shrugs in front of me before reluctantly saying, “Doesn’t hurt to hope for the best.”

“Keep hoping,” I grunt behind his ear while I shove him to the closed sheriff’s door and slowly open it to walk into the empty room. “Hogg! Sheriff! Deputy!”

My voice is thrown back at me from the hallow walls before silence once again begins to settle between us while we lead our prisoners deeper into the sheriff’s station. “As empty as you said,” Treyton says from behind me while he shoves Randly into a chair before stepping in front of him. “What now Frank?”

“Downstairs,” I begin to say as a door is slammed shut from somewhere in the hall before footsteps begin to echo closer to us, “we can lock ‘em up as we told them. One of will stay with them while the other goes to look for Hogg and his -”

“No need!” Hogg walks in breathlessly, dressed in a wrinkled and dirty three piece white suite and a dented white Stetson hat, his white boots have gray scuff marks spread across them, “I’m right here.”

“Commissioner,” I nod respectfully at him before shoving Caggers down besides his buddy, “Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills,” I pull out my wallet, “and Sergeant FBI -”

“I remember you two,” he gives us a weak smile before glaring down at the two men that sits in front of him, recognition flashes through his dark brown eyes momentarily and followed by intense anger. He sighs heavily before glancing back up at us, “you can lock them up downstairs. Both cells are empty.”

“Thank-you, commissioner,” I sigh heavily as I take in the worry and tiredness that spreads across his chubby face, “we’ll lock them up and then we need to talk. Desperately.”

“I agree,” he nods frantically as Treyton grabs both men up by their bent elbows.

“You go in and talk to the commissioner, Frank,” Treyton nods at the commissioner, whose mind seems to be elsewhere, “I’ll take them down and lock them up, nice and tight. I’ll join you when I finish.”

For a short moment, Hogg and I nod while we silently watch Trey boldly lead the two muscular prisoners towards the door before Hogg motions me forward. Thoughts abruptly explodes within me as I numbly follow the short commissioner towards his closed door within the far right corner. “You must be able to read minds, Sergeant,” Commissioner Hogg breaks the silence as he opens his door to motion me to an wooden chair that sits across his oak desk. After I hesitantly sit upon the left of the two chairs he slowly sits down upon his cushioned chair. Looking questionably at him, he continues, “they’ve cut out any phone lines in Hazzard and they have any exit leading in or out of Hazzard. We’re trapped, sergeant.”

I nod as I listen to the desperate cry for help that drips from each word that comes from the local commissioner to send my thoughts of all that he has gone through since Whinston has entered his town. Of what his people must be going through. “Well not necessarily,” I slowly respond as I watch Hogg pull out a fat cigar out of a metal box only to begin nervously playing with it. After a moment of watching him, I pull up the thick poster I had brought in and slowly hand it to him, “You see,” I pause while watching him stare fearfully at the poster, “our office become aware of Whinston’s escape only moments after they had found the murdered guards and the bus driver. We’ve investigated it thoroughly before going back into our files and researched his past crimes,” I am interrupted momentarily as Treyton’s large muscular form comes through the thick creamy window of the office door. Turning back to Hogg, I continue, “and we came to Sheriff Coltrane’s involvement and of the threat. So here we are…and I see our guess was correct.”

Silence welcomes it’s way into Hogg’s office as we watch Treyton quietly closing the door behind him before he slowly walks over to sit in the chair that is to my left. “They’re all locked up, nice and cozy,” he grins sarcastically before growing serious, “so, what I miss?”

“I just got done explaining how we reached Hazzard on our first place to look for Whinston and his gang,” I respond Treyton before looking back at Hogg, “Now it’s your turn, Commissioner. What’s going on in Hazzard? With Whinston?”

Hogg abruptly stares at me, stark fear rushes once again through his dark brown eyes and across his face before he wipes the sweat with the palm of his hand. “They got us trapped, sergeant,” he finally responds with a trembling voice, “not only with the road blocks and the dead phone lines, but they,” he pauses as he stares down at his unlit cigar wishfully before rolling it back and forth in his pudgy hands and looks back up at us, “but they got Rosco and Bo tied up somewhere…holding them for ransom. If Jesse and I don’t pay a million dollars by,” he goes quiet to look down at his gold pocket watch before he abruptly stands up to desperately glance around his office, looking lost and afraid. “Damn it…no.”

“What is it Hogg?” Treyton asks calmly to draw Hogg’s attention onto him before he slips back in his chair.

“If Jesse and I don’t pay their million dollars by eight this morning,” he gulps and Treyton and I simultaneously glances down at our watches to find it eight fifteen, “they’ll kill them…torture them to death.”

“Look Hogg,” I hear myself saying as my thoughts flash upon Bo Duke of how I had last seen him, of the innocence he had seemed to withhold within himself as he had went out of his way to prove his cousin’s innocence. Anger and fear rush through me towards Whinston for targeting upon him despite my lack of knowledge of the youngest Duke. Of all my years on the force, he was one of the few people I had allowed myself grow to like and allowed myself to feel bad for now. Now he could be dead due to our lack of sense, or lack of time. “People like Whinston, they don’t leave witnesses,” I pause dramatically, “What I’m saying is, is that they weren’t planning on freeing them with or without your money. That’s only a gimmick to get your money.”

He stares blankly through us for a long moment before he roughly rubs at his eyes and then takes us in. “I know,” he reluctantly responds before letting silence grow between us for a moment, “not only that, but they now have Luke as well. Luke had this plan of following this member to their hideout…they took out the guards and went down while Cooter and LB were to tie the guards up. He never came up…meaning that someone was down there or snuck down there. Anyway you look at it, they got Bo, Luke, and Rosco,” he pauses before he continues to explain all that has happened, finishing with explaining how they have everyone tied up at their new sporting store. “That’s where we were when you pulled up…Jesse and Daisy are there now guarding them. I left to talk to you.”

I slowly nod as all that he has said floods through me with a great urgent flow of emotions as I quickly stand up. “Well first step is to transport them all to the jail cells,” I instruct as everyone joins me on my feet, “then I’ll need to talk to Jesse and Cooter before we move any farther. You think we could call in a couple of agents to transport them and a couple more to join us?”

“I’ll go give them a call while you head over with Commissioner Hogg,” Treyton loyally responds as he quickly passes us to lead us out into the sheriff’s station.

***LUKE DUKE***

Chills rapidly spreads across my numb body as I silently study my cousin for a long moment who sits a couple of inches besides me while my continues to scream at me from within. Through the distant flames of Whinston’s lantern a few feet away, I take in the deep and dark bruising that swells across his face as he blankly stares at the stone wall that lies two feet ahead of his outstretched legs. Sitting upon the other side of Bo, Rosco sits stiffly while staring at the cold ground that lies beneath him through bruised eyes. Looking from Rosco and Bo, my imagination rushes through all that they had went through, all that Whinston and his men had done to them before I had stumbled upon them. Looking at them and thinking of all they had went through, sends intense anger to wash through me, tempting me to just stand up and attack Whinston. I am quickly pursued not to attack him as I am silently reminded of the thin wires that are tightly wrapped around their wrists behind the wooden beam, attached to a metal device. The device that can go off at a slight push of a button, the button that Whinston holds control of.

My thoughts are quickly interrupted as a soft pounding sound interrupts the dark silence that flows thickly through the shaft, somewhere out in the small thin trial that had led me here. My heart races rapidly through me as I quietly listen in to the footsteps pounding closer by the second before the flicker of a light comes in sight. Ignoring the light and the upcoming visitor, I glance back over at Bo to find his eyes had closed and the slight movement of his chest to come to a halt. Fear strikes thickly through me, not towards who it may be coming or of Whinston, but of losing Bo due to the lack of medication, lack of oxygen, and to the pain that he must be wrapped in. “Bo,” I urgently whisper as I nudge him with my elbow, in desperate hope of alerting him enough to wake him up and not to get heard, “Bo.”

“Just one button, Luke,” Whinston says from his chair at the entry way of the shaft room, giving me his message nice and clear as a dark shadow quickly enters the room. Followed by another large muscular shadow to force Whinston’s attention onto them. “What you two find? Anything?”

“No sir,” the first shadow shakes his head, “me and Trent searched the whole river bank in that area that you indicated to Hogg and the Duke and nothing. Well other than dead fish and litter.”

Trent and Levi. Another chill rushes through me, but this time it’s a chill of fear and not of the icy coldness that captures the darkened cave. The riverbank, only meaning the ransom money that they had asked for and of which they won’t find there due to not even coming close to their million dollars. Could it be time? Could it be that long? Protectively I glance over at Bo and a slight worm of relief begins to climb through me as I find Bo’s thin chest slightly and slowly heaving in and out, his eyes are half way open to stare blindly ahead of him; lost somewhere within himself.

“Well, well, well,” Whinston’s monstrous voice echoes off of the rocky walls as his figure slowly stands up and I reluctantly watch as he walks towards us, followed by Levi and Trent before stopping in front of Bo. “I don’t know if I should be happy or disappointed at your family’s lack of interest in you. We made it nice and clear about the money, where to put it, and when to put it there…well it is now eight thirty and there is no money to be found. Y’all know what that means?” He allows silence to flow between us as he acts as if he expects an answer. “Means I get to kill you all…which I would have either way, but since we don’t have the money, that means I don’t have to rush as we would have had to otherwise. Meaning I can take however long I want to kill you anyway I want.”

“I tried tell y’all that y’all weren’t cared for,” Levi’s familiar voice speaks up tauntingly as he stares down at Bo and Rosco, “that they didn’t think you were worth our million dollars that was asked. Guess you’ll have to believe us now.”

Levi abruptly fades into silence as Whinston glares across at him before his dark eyes is turned onto me. “I’m so glad that you have decided to join us in our death party, Luke Duke,” Whinston’s voice seems to laugh as he speaks, “because now you can witness the painful death your cousin is going to have…and then Rosco.”

“No,” is all I can hear myself say as vivid images flood through me as my attention is stuck upon him as he pulls out a large hunting knife that shines from the flames of the lantern, “no! You won’t get away with this…especially if you go ahead with it, Whinston.”

Whinston laughs with Levi and Trent. “You trying to talk me out of this, Duke? Talk me out of something I had thought of for the twenty-five years I had spent in the pen? Talk me out of something that I had tasted to so well in jail, envisioned it in my sleep and in my waking hours? You’re not gonna have any luck, so you might as well as save your breath for when you need it,” he shakes his head in disbelief at what I had said, “I am already going away…this is nothing for me. I’m pretty much a dead man thanks to your dim-witted sheriff.” He pauses as he moves away from Bo to stand in front of me, “I came here to torture and to kill the man that had killed my baby brother. You know how old Warren was when he was killed by Rosco there? Nineteen…nineteen years old! That killed my mother, she had an heart attack at the funeral I heard. Heart attack that had killed her…so he not only killed my brother, but my mother as well.”

“Well if your brother was shooting the sheriff,” I dryly say to make myself heard, “he wouldn’t have been shot in self-defense and perhaps then saving your poor mother’s grave destination.”

Anger quickly rushes across his face before he quickly and powerfully back hands me across the face, sending my head into the beam behind us. Pain quickly floods through my head, shooting out through my body. “I’m gonna really enjoy forcing you watch me torturing your baby cousin to death. Maybe then you’ll know how I feel,” an evil smile spreads across his face and I am tempted to jump him despite the black box he holds tightly in his hand.

He slowly grows serious before jumping back to his last statement, “I can’t believe how my luck has changed since I have came into Hazzard,” he pauses for a long moment, “first I was able to pretty much talk Hogg into delivering Coltrane to me on a silver platter thanks to Levi and Trent there.” He points to Hogg’s old business associates, “Then Bo there,” he evilly points down at Bo who continues to stare blankly ahead of him despite all that is going on, “pretty much just walked right into my hands. Don’t get me wrong, he would have had to be disposed of since he had walked in on the guards’ conversation outside on accident, but he was my next target. The one I didn’t know how to get to and he walks right into my hands with little to no struggle,” he pauses to laugh harshly, “You see, I’ve studied Hazzard and the people within, especially the ones that had put me behind bars. Meaning Sheriff Rosco Coltrane and Jesse L. Duke. I knew if I were to grab the old man, it wouldn’t be as effective on him as if I had went for his youngest one; his weakest and most vulnerable one.”

I stare harshly at him for a long moment, feeling my anger and fear boil rapidly within me towards the men standing in front of me. Not only fear and anger, but a sense of vulnerability and hopelessness as well. If I attempt to fight Whinston and his men, he’ll just push the button and we’ll be blown to pieces, yet if I don’t do anything, I’ll be forced to watch my cousin’s painful death as well as the sheriff’s.

“Jesse had nothing to do with your arrest,” Rosco boldly breaks the silence to draw everyone’s attention, “it is me you want, not them. Let ‘em go Whinston…like he said, you won’t get away with this.”

“I don’t care if I get away with it or not, just as long as I do it,” Whinston laughs before charging Rosco to kick him forcefully in his chest and Rosco heaves heavily in pain, “and yeah, Jesse had something to do with my arrest. He’s the one that called it in, before he showed up it was between you and me. I could have finished you off right there and then and you know it. Instead Jesse showed up and you trusted me to him, he held me and forced me to watch my own brother’s death! He had everything to do with this! And he’ll pay just like you will!”

“Bo wasn’t even alive when this all happened!” Rosco spits out between forceful breaths of pain only to get back handed as I had and he yells out in pain.

“As I said,” Whinston steps back over to Bo, “we’ve done our research and Bo’s the best and most effective way at getting at Jesse…more affective way at getting back at him for his foolish acts.” Whinston goes silent and serious as he notices Bo’s blank look to grow angry at realizing that nothing he had said had been heard by his prized prisoner. “Wake up boy!” he yells, making everyone jump back in fear, including Levi and Trent. As Bo continues to stare blankly ahead of him, zoning everyone out, Whinston quickly and harshly steps upon his bloodied outstretched leg while back handing him across his bruised face to send his head harshly back upon the splintery beam. An evil smile spreads across Whinston’s face as Bo cries out in pain before he is thrown into a harsh coughing spell.

“Get off of him!” I angrily yell as I protectively watch Bo’s weak breathing as his coughing falls back into a harsh wheezing, his thin chest heaves heavily in and out in his attempt for air. His baby blue eyes flood in intense pain and fear as he stares at the booted foot that stands harshly upon his already injured knee before daring to look up at Whinston.

“Glad to see you’ve wakened up for your painful death,” Whinston taunts as he laughs before he slowly steps off of Bo’s knee to glance back at the knife that he holds tightly onto. Whinston falls back into silence as he stares at Bo as if thinking heavily of something as Bo slowly glances over at me, pleading me to help. Not so much help with Whinston, but to help the pain go away. “Levi and Trent.”

“Yes sir,” they loyally step up to him.

“You’ll need to grab Luke and hold onto him…make him watch it,” Whinston instructs and the two men nod willingly, “I don’t want him to interrupt anything!”

“Yes sir,” they respond again and questions of what I should do rushes through me, as everything I could do, consequences quickly follow.

As Levi grabs a hold of my right arm, I quickly elbow him in the chest and he cries out in pain and as I smack Trent, Whinston yells while holding up the black box, “I’ll hit the button!”

Desperately I glance down at Bo as the two men grab a hold of my arms before Levi holds them tightly behind my back and Trent steps besides me and a cold barrel of a hand gun is pressed tightly to my right temple. “Make one move and you’re head will be blown off,” Trent spits in my ear and Levi laughs behind me.

“Hmmm who wants to go first?” Whinston laughs as he stares at Bo and then at Rosco. Moving closer to Bo he says, “Bo’ll go first since there’s no volunteers…that way you both can watch him die.”

Watching Whinston grow closer to him with the sharp knife, Bo momentarily eyes me before staring defiantly at Whinston; stubbornness and fight quickly enters his eyes. Biting upon his lower lip, I am surprised as he throws his long lean left leg up to hit Whinston harshly in his stomach who angrily doubles up in pain and in surprise. As Whinston momentarily holds onto his stomach, Bo throws his healthy leg up to hit Whinston upon his forehead with the pointy toe end of his cowboy hat. Whinston yells out in pain as he crumples onto the hard floor, a hand upon his stomach and another upon his forehead where he had been hit at. A thin smile is forced across my face despite the situation we are in, a smile at seeing the fight still in him; once a Duke, always a Duke.

Watching their boss getting hit by their tied up prisoner, Trent quickly and obediently leaves my side to run over to Whinston to help him up. “I’m fine!” Whinston shoves him behind as he slowly stands up, anger and hatred spread across his face as he stares harshly at his lead man, “Get to Luke!”

Fear once again rushes through me as Whinston turns away from Trent who goes back to my side, throwing his hand gun tightly into my temple. “Think you’re smart, do you?” Whinston grunts as he charges for Bo whose fight has seemed to have left him with his final kick. Fear spreads across his face as he attempts to scoot back away from Whinston only to be held in place by the beam and by Rosco besides him. He cries out in pain and fear as Whinston knees Bo in the chest before grabbing tightly onto Bo’s neck as Bo’s eyes quickly drop shut while his chest comes to a halt with the harsh blow. “Wake up Duke!” he forces Bo’s head back against the beam with a tight hold upon Bo’s neck and with the impact, Bo’s eyes slowly open and he attempts to cough out through his harsh hold on him. “Not so smart, now are you? You see this?” Whinston puts the knife in front of Bo’s eyes before he slowly and neatly cuts Bo’s cheek with it and fresh blood begins to drip down his cheek and onto Whinston’s sleeve. “That’s just a sample of what it can do.”

Bo cries out at the sharp cut while struggling against Whinston’s hold upon him as a harsh realization explodes within his eyes. Realization that he’s going to die at the hands of Whinston, that there is no way out. “No!” I harshly yell out in attempt to at least distract him for a moment and Trent harshly smacks the gun against my temple while Levi pulls back and tightens his hold.

“One more outburst like that Duke,” Whinston stares back at me, “and you’ll be gone.”

***SERGEANT FBI AGENT FRANK MILLS***

Disbelief thickly fills me as I stare at the full cells of people that the Dukes and their friends had helped capture through Luke’s plan, the plan that had gotten him caught somewhere down in the shaft. Slowly I force my attention away from the crowded cells to take in the Duke patriarch, his niece, and their friends before taking in the commissioner and his deputy. After a short moment I motion them upstairs and together we leave the downstairs cells to reach the sheriff’s station. Looking around I finally say, “You all have been busy,” I finally state, “and have done your town proud…each one of them captured is one step closer to getting at who we really want. You shut down Whinston, you shut down the -”

“Not just Whinston,” the commissioner boldly interrupts me, “the two men who owns the new sporting store is as just as much to be feared as Whinston if you ask me. Levi Dunning and Trent…I don’t remember Trent’s last name.”

“Damn it. I forgot about them,” I stare across the room at Treyton who nods, “they’ve been at the head of Whinston’s gang since he had been put away. Their fathers worked closely to Whinston and had been respected by Whinston until they had died…rumor has it, that he put Levi in charge and Trent under Levi when he was arrested.”

Jesse and J.D. Hogg seems to nod in agreement for a long moment before Hogg says, “We kinda guessed as much.”

“Well we shut them all three down, the rest should be easy enough to surrender,” I pause heavily as I take in the odds, “Treyton and I want to thank you for your hard work…for getting our job started. You all have done well,” I fall into silence once again as my thoughts fall back onto where they have been; they pretty much didn’t have a choice but to fight back. “But now it falls onto us…the FBI.”

“Excuse me sir,” a heavier set man steps forward with greasy clothing and a greasy yellow ball cap. Cooter Davenport. “If you don’t mind me saying, we have fought them this far and it is our people they have down there, couldn’t we help out…do something? We can’t just sit here and wait.”

“I’m sorry Cooter, but it is a regulation of the FBI not to allow citizens to help out when it can be putting them in danger,” I slowly respond and disappointment floods his dark brown eyes, “but I would think that Deputy Enos Strait may need some help guarding the jail while we are gone. He’s in charge of protecting the prisoners, make sure no one gets away and no one gets in to help them escape. Perhaps you can help him. Put a couple people upstairs, a couple down stairs and perhaps a person or two in the hall and on the exits. You can never be too careful. Meanwhile my men and I are on our way to the shaft…we need to come up with a plan and fast to help your people get out as safely as possible.”

Accepting my answer, he slowly steps back nodding while looking across the rest of the Hazzard citizens that are within the building. “We need to go Frank. Banks and them are already positioned in the woods near the shaft,” Treyton says pocketing his phone.

“Thanks Trey,” I join him at the door, “a couple of agents will be stopping by in case you need help. Thanks once again.”

*  *  *  *  *

“He’s down there,” Banks confidently says as we approach him behind the shaft, in the woods. “I had Wilter run to the opening and he said he could hear someone that had sounded like Whinston talking and a lot of crying out in pain. Whatever that is going down there, isn’t good.”

“Thanks Banks,” I nod grimly at him as his words silently run through me to send my imagination running wild, “do we know how many are down there? Other than our three…Rosco, Bo, and Luke.”

“At least three,” Wilter responds from behind us and we turn to face a young agent who stares from me to Treyton, “Al Turner and I think that Levi and Trent are down there as well…sounds like them too. Not sure though.”

“Three sounds right,” I nod in appreciation at him, “OK. Now onto what we should do to handle this without the prisoners not getting hurt. All three of them are heavy into guns and knives…weapons and explosives. So we can bet on guns and perhaps an explosive or two. Whinston doesn’t have anything to lose here.”

“He knows that too,” Treyton responds besides me, “we’ll need to sneak up on him.”

“An ambush? In there?” Banks asks, “It’s darker than anything in there, who knows where we’d be going without a light to show us the way. We’d be more likely to fall and make ourselves noticeable.”

I slowly shake my head at them as I pull out a folded paper out of my inside pocket and hand it to Banks. “Here is the outline of the shaft. You go in there is a very thin ledge before it drops down, right in front of the doorway should be prongs that will lead you down into a narrow pathway that leads right and left. There is a room on the far right and another on the far left,” I respond as I point it out on the map as I go on, “Treyton, Commissioner Hogg, and I agree that they will most likely be kept on the left side room since it’s bigger. But I want to separate when we go down. Trey, Agent Lairn, and I will go left while Banks, Wilter, and Turner go right and see what you find.”

Silence once again flows between the six of us as our attention goes the shaft that lies only several feet ahead of us. “What will you do when you find Whinston?” Banks asks to break the silence, “I mean with the hostages and in that small area…”

I sigh heavily as I nod in agreement. “We thought of that…but right now we don’t have much of a choice but to go in and hope that an ambush will work. Whinston demanded a million dollar ransom that should have been handed out forty-five minutes ago and knowing Whinston, he won’t wait long before he goes through with the threat,” I respond and once again they hesitantly nod, “Everyone understand?”

“Yes sir,” everyone nods as I am once again filled with dread with what we are about to do, knowing that there is a high risk of the hostages dying more quickly when Whinston finds us behind him.

“OK, let’s do it. Trey, Lairn, and I will go in first, Banks’ team will head down after we start in towards the left side of the stairs,” I respond as I slowly begin to inch toward the shaft, “quietness is the key here. No noise and no mistakes.”

Quietly, I lead the five agents to the side of the rocky shaft with my heart pounding loudly in my ears while my imagination screams at me. Vivid scenes of all that Whinston is doing to them or has done to them as fear rushes through me, demanding me to move faster. Taking a deep breath to put an end to my emotions, I slowly walk up to the black entry way while silently envisioning what is about to happen. Letting out the breath I had been holding onto, I quietly glance back at my five agents before stepping into the thick darkness to blindly search for the edge. Finding the edge, I slowly turn around and grasp at the metal prongs to slowly walk down the wall and into the sharp edgy trail and step forward to allow others to follow me down. Sharp chills quickly spread down my body as the harsh icy air tickles the back of my neck while I watch Lairn and Trey blindly step down to join me.

As Trey and Lairn join me, we silently and blindly begin to slowly make our way through the narrow and sharp trail only to be stopped momentarily as a loud cry of pain erupts through the silence. Another moment passes before Whinston’s evil voice hisses out, demanding someone to stop or he’ll be finished. Anger quickly radiates through me towards Whinston and his men for what he’s doing as I silently begin my way towards the end of the hall where a dim light flickers back and forth. After a short moment that seems to seep into an eternity we reach the end of the hall where it turns right for a short moment before hitting another wall and the opening for the room is on the left. Abruptly I come to an halt at the end of the long trail to watch the large shadows dancing through the flame light upon the far wall of the room, counting the number of shadows. Slowly I raise my hand to show three fingers up, to say there is three men.

After a short moment of gathering my strength and of watching the shadows terrorize the local citizens of Hazzard County, I slowly step into the small opening to find Whinston standing over Bo on the floor with a tight hold upon Bo’s neck with Rosco sitting next to Bo watching in horror. Luke stands with Levi holding his arms back and Trent shoving a gun tightly to his temple while Luke watches in terror as Whinston beats upon his cousin. Levi and Trent’s attention remain on Luke and Whinston. Fear explodes within me as I see how badly the three men had been beaten, especially Bo and Rosco who seems to have fresh blood dripping down their faces.

“Whinston Merlin,” I break the silence and Whinston and his two goons quickly look up with a look of fear and surprise written across their evil faces, “this is your warning. You step away from the kid or we’ll shoot. Tell your men to back off as well.”

“You only wish Frank,” Whinston smiles evilly at me as he tightens his grip on the kid’s throat, “I’ve came here to go through with my threat and no one is to stop me…but you are welcomed to watch.”

I glance back at Lairn and Trey who joins me while we take a couple of brave steps closer to where they stand. “Drop the gun Trent,” Trey says from behind me as we draw our guns out of our belts to aim it at the three men.

“Stop right there,” Whinston back hands Bo before slowly standing up to show us a small black box that he had tightly gripped onto, “this here is the remote for the explosive wiring that ties the sheriff and the Duke to the post there. You make one more move, and I’ll push the button.”

I glance back at my two men before motioning them to stop where they are at as my mind spins frantically of what to do next, of how to save the three hostages without anyone dying. “You’re not helping yourself any, Whinston,” I slowly speak up.

“Drop the guns, feds!” he snaps and we slowly do as he says as he once again holds up the black box, “And for helping myself any, we all know I am beyond saving. I’m gonna die one way or another…and before I die, the men that put me on death row will die too.”

Silence breaks through us as I glance over at Luke who looks at me before eyeing Bo and I sense his inability to do anything in fear of Whinston killing Bo or pushing the button. After a short moment he glances back up at me before he abruptly throws his body against Trent to smash Trent harshly against the sharp rocky wall, Trent yells out as his gun scatters upon the cold ground. Thrown off guard, Luke quickly backs Levi up against the wall and as he smashes the back of his head against the wall, Levi let’s go of Luke’s arms.

After a brief moment of watching Luke fight strongly against Levi, Treyton catches my eye as he rushes past me to throw himself harshly upon Whinston who is momentarily distracted by Luke’s fight. Whinston angrily yells out as his body smashes heavily against the ground under Trey’s weight while his black box quickly slides away into the darkness and out of the lantern’s flame’s reach. “You are under arrest,” Trey hisses as Lairn and I quickly approach. “Whinston Merlin for the kidnaping and torture of an lawman and of Bo Duke. You have the right to -”

“Over my dead body,” Whinston grunts as he begins kicking and throwing his arms, hitting Trey harshly in the face.

***LUKE DUKE***

Adrenaline rushes through me as I send a harsh punch across Levi’s face before elbowing Trent in his nose, forcing them both to yell out in pain. “Trent,” Levi yells over me as he throws a heavy right hook at me and I quickly duck in order to send a sharp elbow deep into his chest and he instinctively bends down in pain, heaving heavily in pain. With his head bent down, I quickly send a sharp knee up to harshly smack into his forehead and he heavily falls upon the rocky floor with a large bang. As I turn to deal with Trent, Trent’s muscular right fist smashes heavily into my left cheek and pain quickly flashes through my head with his powerful punch. A short second later I block another powerful punch by him before I quickly throw my right leg out to kick him hardly into the back of his right knee. With the harsh impact of my cowboy boot, his right knee buckles and he collapses onto the floor only a few feet away from Levi with a loud banging of his head against the ground.

For a moment I stare angrily at the two men who attempt to regain their strength to get up despite the pain I had enforced upon them. Slowly, I hesitantly glance up to find Mills and his men surrounding Whinston while Bo and Rosco still sits tied up to the post. Fear and worry spreads thickly through me once again at seeing how deathly pale Bo has grown while thick red blood seems to drip down his cheek and face. From where I stand, a few feet ahead of him, his harsh breathless coughing seems to echo off of the rocky walls that surrounds him while he stares blankly ahead of him; not seeing anything, but feeling lost and alone in harsh pain.

“Trent,” Levi whispers once again to bring my attention back upon the two men I had been fighting against to find Trent on his hands and knees while Levi slowly steadies himself back upon his two feet. Staring at them, intense anger and hatred floods through me towards them for all that they have done to Bo, for the pain that they had enforced upon him. It may have been Whinston’s plan and it may have been Whinston that had hurt Bo the most, but somewhere in the mix Levi and Trent had something to do with it. Beyond doubt, I am sure they had a big amount of responsibility behind Bo being where he is now and how Bo is now.

“This is for Bo,” I grunt as I shove another sharp knee into Trent’s face to send him back upon the floor, moaning in pain as blood steadily runs down his nose. Turning to Levi I give him a chilling evil smile before I quickly I elbow him across the face and he loses balance to fall into the rocky wall and I shove him back upon the ground with a harsh punch.

“Trent,” Levi says a third time as he slowly steadies himself back up on his feet as blood drips from a cut upon his right temple from where he had ran into the wall. His crazy eyes glare over me towards Trent who stands weakly behind me with the back of his wrists held tightly to his broken nose. Trent slowly nods before he quickly shoves me backwards before the two criminals quickly run past me and past their leader to the dark entry way and into the narrow trail.

Regaining my balance, my attention is grabbed upon the FBI agents as Whinston shouts out as he rolls over upon Sergeant Mueller who cries out in surprise. With the FBI’s attention upon Treyton, Whinston quickly stands up with one wrist in handcuffs and the other hand free. “Freeze!” the younger agent yells as he begins to run after him and quickly followed by Mueller and Mills.

For a moment I struggle with the dizziness that rushes through me and the throbbing pain that races through my head before I glance back up through the darkness to eye Bo and Rosco. “Bo,” I sadly say before I steadily walk towards them to drop harshly upon my knees to send flashes of pain through my legs with the hard impact. Bo continues to stare blankly ahead as his body seems to shake slightly in either in fear or from the icy coldness that fills the old shaft. “Bo,” I say again as I drag a hand back to his forehead to find him burning up sending flash backs of a year and a half ago when I had rescued him from the killer that kidnaped LB and him; making everyone believe they were dead. For a short moment, I allow my flashbacks to vividly rush through me while I watch his thin chest barely moving as he fights for air wheezingly. After a moment, my attention is distracted as Rosco uncomfortably moves besides Bo and I am quickly reminded of the sheriff who is tied besides Bo. The sheriff who seems to disappear within the harsh darkness of the shaft. “Rosco,” I move to the other side of Bo’s extended legs, for a moment I stare at the cut up knee that is soaked with blood before staring at Rosco through the darkness. “How are you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he slowly responds, “Just get us out of here.”

I slowly nod as I hear footsteps coming closer while I quickly get up to walk over into the darkness to begin feeling around for the black box that Whinston had held as treasure against Rosco and Bo. After a moment, I feel it and slowly grab it and as I turn it around in my hand I see a large two and two large zeros in a bright red color, making it look like it saying two o’clock. After a brief moment realization quickly hits me that it’s not the time that it’s reading but saying two minutes as it slowly goes to 1:59. Intense fear rushes through me as my mind quickly unwinds through me as I watch the numbers slowly go down again. One minute and fifty-six seconds before the bomb will go off.

Numb in realization of the device in my hand, I quickly turn around to eye Bo and Rosco before I notice Sergeant Frank Mills quickly walking towards the hostages. Reaching Rosco, he asks me, “What you got, Duke?”

“Whinston’s explosive,” I slowly walk over to him, eyeing Bo on my way past before looking directly at Frank, “he set it. It has just under two minutes before it’ll go off.”

“Damn it,” Frank cusses as he looks at the large red numbers before he grabs his flash light from his belt and drops to his knees. Silently he looks at the thin wires that are tightly wrapped around their wrists before coming to a similar looking device. Kneeling up to look at me he says, “I’m going to have to cut a wire…we definitely don’t have time to wait for the experts to arrive or to call them in for that matter. So I’m going to have to do it,” he pauses to look at the time, “I suggest you leave in case I pull the wrong wire.”

“I’m not leaving until I can take Bo with me,” I answer stubbornly as I kneel down besides him.

“Have it your way, we don’t have time to argue,” Frank responds as he goes back to looking at the wires before gunshots echo from somewhere within the narrow walls out of the room and cries of pain are filtered around. For a moment Frank stares at the dark opening as if expecting to find something before he returns his attention onto the wires after looking at the time. One – thirty. “Red is generally the wire to pull.” He breaks the silence as he touches the red wire of the red, blue, and yellow wires that are all connected to the explosive. “So I’ll pull the,” he pauses for a long moment before his thick fingers separate the yellow wire from the other two, “the yellow wire.”

His statement floats in my mind to send questions rippling thickly through me as I hold my breath in prayer as I watch Frank biting his lower lip. Abruptly he yanks the end of the yellow wire out of the black metal explosive device and my attention goes onto the black box in my hand at the bright red numbers that slowly comes to a halt at forty-eight seconds. “It’s stopped,” I hear myself say as I let my breath go in premature relief, “forty-eight seconds…it’s stopped. You did it!”

“Damn right, I did it,” he sits up and I hand him the box as the younger kid walks into the room, “OK you might want to hold onto them, I’m going to cut the rest of the wires and they may fall forward.”

I nod before I kneel down in between Bo and Rosco as Frank disappears behind them while Rosco apparently braces himself for the pressure to collapse from behind him. My main concern relies upon Bo who seems out of it despite his wide open eyes that seems to be staring at something from within. Abruptly, Bo is thrown forward as the wires are cut and I quickly catch his shoulders to slowly hold him up right before glancing at Rosco who holds onto his bloody wrists. “C’mon Bo,” I get my face in front of his in attempt to get his attention back onto me as I had when I had first came down here, only for him to stare forward. As I listen to his slow and forceful breathing, my fear seems to climb rapidly within me as he grows paler and his breathing slows down dramatically. “C’mon Bo…it’s me! It’s Luke…look at me!” I raise my voice trying to get to him in hope that if his attention comes through, he’ll be able to fight more to breathe, “It’s Luke…look at me!”

With the sound of urgency behind my last statement of my name, Bo blankly blinks a couple of times before he eyes Rosco besides him on the other side and as I place a protective hand upon his shoulder, he glances over at me. Pain and fear once again thickly begin to fill his baby blue eyes as he gasps, “Luke.”

“It’s OK cuz,” I force a comforting smile at him as he forces himself to focus while pain seems to scream from his eyes, “it’s all over…all over.”

He eyes me questionably before he pulls his arms in front of him and I glance down at his bloody wrists before Frank stands up to grab my attention. “Sergeant Mills,” the young agent says urgently, “he shot Sergeant Mueller…Whinston did, shot him in the shoulder. Sergeant Mueller shot in return…Whinston’s dead.”

“Dead?” Frank asks, his voice filled with great urgency and the kid quickly nods, “How’s Treyton?”

“He says he’s fine,” the agent nods numbly, “fine…he went up and is calling for an ambulance.”

Silence between the agents float for a moment. “What about Levi and Trent?” Frank asks quickly and the young agent’s thick shoulders seem to sag a bit.

“They’ve escaped,” he pauses for a long moment as he eyes us and back onto his sergeant, “in Sergeant Mueller’s car. Banks and Wilter has went to search for them while Turner is up there with Mueller. He says they found the other room filled with guns, knives, and explosives.”

“Thank-you Lairns,” Frank slowly says, “why don’t you help us get the prisoners out of here and out onto land while we wait for the ambulance to arrive.”

“Yes sir,” the young agent obediently nods as he approaches us.

“If no back injuries,” Frank eyes Rosco and then Bo, “we better get them up on ground so they can load them up on the ambulance. It’d be a pain to get a bed down here to haul them up. You think they can do it?”

I eye Bo for a moment before nodding up at the agents. “I’m fine,” Rosco stubbornly says as the young agent helps him up on his feet, holding Rosco’s arm around his neck and a supportive arm around his back.

“Hold on Bo,” I wrap his arm around my neck while I place an arm around his neck and then behind his knees and as I pick him up he moans in pain. “Hold on,” I say again as I slowly walk out of the room and into the narrow walk way before we come to a stop in front of the rusty prongs. Feeling Bo’s weight in my arms I watch as they help Rosco climb out of the shaft as golden sun light filters in from the entry way. “OK Bo our turn, hold on,” I repeat as I let go of his neck to hold onto the prongs and I slowly climb up the rocky wall before being greeted by the chilly afternoon sun. Up on solid ground, I slowly walk to the nearest tree to slowly put Bo down, resting his back against the thick trunk of the tree and Rosco slowly joins us. “Help is on it’s way, Bo…help is on it’s way.”

For a long moment I am not sure if he’s hearing me or not as he seems to stare blankly once again over my shoulder and I glance back to find Agent Mills with Agent Mueller who holds a white handkerchief to his right shoulder, the handkerchief is drenched in blood. Looking back at him, he slowly nods before he glances down at himself, staring somberly at his right knee that lies exposed through the large rip. His pant leg is drenched in his own blood as his knee itself is darkly bruised under the dried blood. “I’m sor-” he interrupts himself as he begins to harshly cough, spitting up blood, “I’m . . .sorry.”

For a silent moment I take in his pale ashy complexion as he wipes his mouth with the back of his bruised right hand and he looks at the blood for a long moment. “Sorry?” I ask to bring his attention back onto me, “Sorry for what?”

In the distance sirens begin to scream out. “For. . .for what I. . .did,” he finally says before his eyes fall shut and his chest goes still for a long moment. Opening his eyes, he continues, “For leaving. . .for,” he coughs once again as he continues to struggle for air, desperately, “everything.”

I force a smile for him as the pain in his eyes seems to increase greatly as he throws a weak hand upon his chest, his signal for chest pain. “You didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It is I who am sorry,” I finally say as my fear seems to clump in my throat, “And Jesse should have known what would have happened when did what he did. He was only worried.”

“Uncle Jesse,” he grasp before his eyes close once again to force my fear to rush within me and his eyes once again open, “Jesse.”

“I’ll call him when we get to the hospital. OK?” I ask as I run a hand through his blood stained bright blond hair and he slowly nods before crying out in pain and then coughing once again. “Hang in there little buddy, help is on it’s way. It’s all over now, you hear? All over. Help is on it’s on it’s way.”

He nods as the sirens grows closer and I glance up to find it turning the corner. “Luke,” he weakly speaks my name and I glance back down at him, “thank-you.”

“Anytime, Bo. Anytime,” once again I force a smile as the ambulance comes to a quick stop a few feet away. Looking back down at Bo, his chest has come to a halt and his eyes have came shut, his skin is deathly blue. “No! Bo!”

Doors are slammed shut behind me as tears sting my eyes as I feel his pulse to find a very weak and slow pulse in his neck while feeling no breathing escaping from his closed lips. Weakly opening his eyes, Bo says, “Lu-” he is interrupted by forceful coughing and tears of pain and fear run down his pale cheeks, “Luke,” he manages as two paramedics approach with a cot. Quietly he allows them to help him upon the cot before he reaches a weak and bruised arm towards me and I quickly take it, he weakly grabs onto me. “I. . .can’t,” he begins as the elder of the two paramedics promptly place an air mask over his bruised mouth and nose before carefully lacing it behind his head. “breathe,” Bo finishes as I quickly begin to walk to stay up to Bo and I nod understandably and sympathetically at him. “I’m scared.”

Without invitation, I climb into the back of the ambulance with Bo still weakly grabbing onto my hand for any support he can get. “I know buddy…I know. Me too,” I confess and he glances questionably at me, “Me too,” I repeat. “But it’s going to be ok…you hear me Bo?” they wheel Rosco in on another cot, his own air mask upon his bruised face. Glancing back at Bo, Bo nods in pain as they begin to insert IV’s into his bruised arm, his free arm. As the young paramedic carefully grabs onto the arm that holds onto me, Bo gives a brief struggle before he lets go of me. Running my hand once again through his hair, I say, “It’s going to be ok. It’s all over with … all over. No one is going to hurt you . . .help is here.”

He nods slowly at me as the paramedics work over him, work at tearing off his blood stained shirt as they place suctions on his chest before hooking him up to the monitors. My fear grows harshly within me as I see the lines on his heart monitor go straight for a long couple of seconds before arching slightly up and going back to a line. The monitor’s showing just how close Bo hangs on the edge of death and life. “C’mon buddy. Hang on,” I urge him as I glance back at him to find his eyes closed with tears trailing down his pale face, “you gotta hang on. You can do it.” Fear floods through me as his eyes remain closed and his monitors showing his heart and breathing to have decreased from only a second ago.

“He’s gone un-conscience,” the older paramedic says to the younger one, “he’s growing weaker as time passes.”

“No Bo…fight it. Please,” I beg him while I continue to run my hands through his hair in hope of him waking up before losing myself into prayer. “You got to be ok.”