I stare numbly up at the bright lights that shine down from the old ceiling while I vaguely hear the irregular beeping of the monitors that sit a foot or two from my head. Questions continue to run rapidly through my throbbing head as of how I had ended up at Tri-County and in so much pain. I sigh heavily only to enforce a fiery wave of pain through my lungs as I silently recall what Dr. Sanchez had said, I was found beaten in my garage. But by whom? And why? I vaguely recall the argument with Hogg over Rosco’s patrol car and rising the rent upon my garage, but Hogg wouldn’t have me beaten to death over the price of repair. Neither would his dim-witted sheriff. Fear and panic continue to swirl thickly through me as I once again am lost in thought of what all this means, of someone trying to kill me, and almost succeeding. Chills harshly rushes across my numb and pain covered body as Sanchez’s voice once again speaks up within me as he explained how close I had came to my own death. Would have if it weren’t for a lady named Kristy who found me in time and had performed CPR while her brother went for help. Only to force the questions to reappear within me of why I am here to begin with.

Abruptly my questions and thoughts are interrupted as the latch softly makes a clicking noise from the white painted door to grab my attention and I tiredly turn my head to look. After a brief moment, two tall and serious looking men walk in wearing dark pants and a dark blue windbreaker. Their body language and look cries loudly of authority, power, and of some sort of police agency. “Cooter,” the dark blond haired man finally speaks as he walks up to my bed while his hand goes inside his windbreaker and pulls out a black wallet. He slowly opens it and holds it out to me while he continues, “I’m Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills. There’s,” he points to the younger of the two with dark hair and dark eyes, “is my partner, Agent Treyton Mueller.”

I slowly nod only to reinforce the throbbing pain as I slowly hand his badge and ID back to him while I force a smile as I fight back the tears that begin to swell in my eyes. Tears of pain that continues to build within me. “I didn’t do anything. Promise,” I force another smile as I cautiously look from Mills to Mueller who stands at the end of the bed, staring at me with his shadowed dark eyes.

Mills gives a small laugh to bring my attention back to him and his eery glossy green eyes that are void of any emotion. “We’re not here to say that you did, but I’d say it is obvious that someone did something to you,” he slowly begins, “wouldn’t you say?”

“It seems that way,” I dryly reply, “though if you are here to ask me what did happen, I am sorry to disappoint you. I can’t remember what happened.”

Mills nods slowly. “Guess that doesn’t surprise me. It is of my experience that says that most people waking up from a coma caused by such horrible violence and with the concussion you suffered, that the memory is weak and fragile. Or any at all,” he pauses as he eyes his partner and as I look up, I find him staring blankly at me, “so maybe if we ask you a few questions, it may help you remember what did happen. You up for that?”

Exhaustion rolls through me as I look from one agent to another as their words echo deeply within me to send more questions rolling through me of why they’re here. Why it isn’t Rosco here asking questions? “We can always hope,” I finally respond to receive a nod from the lead agent.

“OK, thanks,” he offers a small smile, “perhaps we can start by you telling me of the last memory you have.”

I stare at him for a long moment as I allow my thoughts to roll back to the argument I had with Boss and of the severe consequences that followed my stubbornness to fight him against his prices by raising my own just for him. “Not of the attack or why,” I finally respond, “the last thing I really remember is the argument I had with Boss over prices.”

“Argument?” Mills quickly asks suspiciously, “Over what about prices?”

“It’s nothing like you’re thinking, Sergeant,” I slowly point out, “his sheriff wrecked another patrol car, which is a regular occurrence around here. Anyway, last month he had raised my mortgage on my garage…again. So, I raised my price of fixing his patrol cars. He got mad about it and started yelling before he once again raised my mortgage of my garage.”

He arcs an eyebrow at me as he finishes writing what I had said in a small notebook while shaking his head in disbelief. “Your law system here in Hazzard seems to be a joke to me,” he finally finishes, “is that it?”

“That was it. He left and I think I went out for another job or to just drive around. I can’t remember,” I pause, “I just remember getting in my truck afterwards.”

“OK,” he dryly responds as quietness once again builds within the small room, except for the annoying beeping of my monitors. After a short moment, his hand goes back inside his windbreaker and comes out with a picture and slowly extends his arm towards me to take the picture. “You recognize this man?”

I hesitantly take the small picture and slowly look at the colored picture with a hard looking man looking to be in his twenties with dark blond ruffled hair and a thin goatee. A silver loop ear ring is in his right ear while he stares at me with cold gray eyes while an ugly thick and ragged scar falls from behind his right ear and down his neck. Chills once again races across my body as I stare at the scar and silently wonder how he got such an ugly scar and to be alive to show it off as he seems to be.

After a brief moment of staring at the picture, I slowly look back at Mills to slowly shake my head. “No, can’t say I ever seen him before,” I slowly hand the picture back to him, “why?”

“He’s the one we got in jail for your beating,” he slowly says as he extends another picture and I slowly take it to look at it as well, “here’s his partner in the beating.”

“No…neither one looks familiar to me,” I slowly reply handing it back to him only to receive another picture of an older man with dark graying hair and a beard and a mustache. Cold gray-blue eyes look back at me with an evil smile spread across his face, “Neither does he.”

“Strike three,” Mills sighs heavily as he pockets the three picture back inside his windbreaker. “OK. You remember anything about finding a car over the cliff?”

I eye him momentarily as my memory remain blank yet something seems to be tugging at it, wanting to be let in and known. “No, not -“ I slowly cut myself off as I instantly begin to see vivid scenes within me of a well dented and smashed blue new car stuck upon a ledge of Rainbow Cliff. Of the shattered windows and expecting to see dead and injured bodies with a lot of blood only to find the car empty and clean of any blood. “Yeah, yeah I think I do.” I slowly respond. “It was right after the argument I had with Boss. Went out for a drive to find it on the cliff and no one in or around it. No blood.”

A small smile once again flashes across Mills’ serious face as he slowly nods. “That’s how Sheriff Coltrane explained it to me when I had first came to Hazzard,” he goes silent, “anything else you can remember? Anything happen once you got back to the garage with the car? Rosco said you were found beaten a couple of hours after you had left with the car.”

As if a floodgate had been lifted within me, vivid scenes begin to flood rapidly within me, beginning with finding the car on the ledge to working with Rosco to find it and later towing the car to my garage. “There was a guy that had later came by,” I slowly state to no one as the scenes continue to unravel within me, “said it was his car. He was going to Atlanta for a meeting and had been passing through Hazzard, his breaks went out and he jumped out in time.” I slowly continue to say what had happened as it came to me, of going for a bottle of water for the guy to come back to find two other men standing with him. Of a bearded man with a scar telling some guy named Sergio to close the door and of their threats before the beating had began. As I force my memory through, the fear and horror that I had felt at the time once again rises within me as if it was happening again, right now and here in the hospital. I slowly finish by explaining of fighting back against them to make it worse, to receive their own harsh fighting me before I lost myself into a dark and empty void that I had figured would be my death.

They remain silent for a moment after I finish my story, both set of eyes staring unblinkingly at me before Mills once again reach into his pocket to take the pictures out. Handing me one, he asks, “Is that the bearded man with the scar?”

I hesitantly look at the bearded man I had seen only a minute ago and instantly recognize the hard eyes that looks back at me as the man seeming to be in charge of the group. “That…that was the man who had seemed to be in charge,” I slowly reply a sharp shudder ripples across my throbbing body.

Nodding, he slowly hands out the two other photos that he had been holding and I hesitantly look back at the two other guys I had momentarily seen. “Those two the ones with him?” he slowly ask.

Slowly I shake my head no at them. “No, neither one look familiar. One had dark hair and dark eyes and had an accent or something,” I slowly respond, “I didn’t see those two.”

“OK. He identified Max,” Mills says looking up at his partner. Looking back down at me, he says, “You did very good. Is there anything else that you can think of or recall?”

Looking skeptically at the two agents, I respond, “No.”

“Well, thank-you for your help. If you can think of anything else, give me a call,” Mills says as he hands me a card, “better reach me at my cell phone there.”

“Just a minute, Mills,” Mueller speaks for the first time from the foot of my bed, “Cooter,” he pauses as I look at him, “that car that you found…you find anything inside it other than glass? Something that they would have wanted badly enough to do what they did to you?”

I stare at him blankly for a moment as I struggle to concentrate upon the car I had towed, trying to picture the inside of the new car. “Uh yeah,” I slowly speak up, “I think there was an envelope in the backseat. It was wedged half way under the seat and half way out. I only think, not certain on that though.”

“OK thanks,” Mueller gruffly responds before he turns his back on me and begins to walk towards the door with Mills closely behind him.

*                                              *                                  *

“Cooter,” a soft gentle voice rings out through the darkness before a gentle hand lands upon my bruised shoulder to abruptly throw me out of the realistic and vivid nightmare that had captured me only moments ago. “It’s OK, just a dream.” Pain continues to accelerate within me as I feel my heart racing painfully fast within me while I struggle painfully to breathe, the vivid nightmare continues to run through my head. “It’s OK,” I slowly glance over to where the voice comes from and surprise and relief instantly runs through me at seeing Jesse Duke standing next to my bed. His normally bright blue eyes are now dimmed with sadness to make him look ten years older since the last time I had seen him. “There you are,” he forces a smile as he removes his hand from my shoulder, “how you feel?”

“I’ll be OK,” I slowly respond as I struggle to shove the three evil faces from my mind and the nightmare that I had lived through, “guess I’m lucky to be alive.”

He silently nods at me. “That you are,” he slowly responds as a tear breaks lose from his right eye to run down his weathered cheeks and into his dark gray beard. Shock and sadness quickly run through me as I silently take him in, shock at seeing the lone tear fall from his saddened eyes, at seeing how vulnerable and weak he seems standing next to me. Something I never had really seen from him. Through all the hard times he’s been through, that I’ve been there, he had always held strong and stubborn to allow his raw emotions to show. Always strong for his family and those around him. Yet. . .

“What’s wrong, Unc-“ I cut myself off, catching myself, “Jesse?”

He offers me a small smile at my mistake of almost calling him Uncle Jesse, of what he normally corrects me of. “You lie there in that there bed all beaten almost to death, asleep for over a week,” he pauses, “and you are asking me of what’s wrong? You had us all worried sick.” He goes silent, almost seeming to cut himself off with the emotions he apparently is trying to fight back and failing. “I’m just glad to see you have finally waken up and proved them doctors wrong.”

“Well, you should know by now that they are barely right to begin with,” I slowly state, sensing that something else is bothering him other than my hospitalization and beating. Though I am sure that is part of it. “But what else is bothering you?”

He eyes me silently for a short moment before he slowly takes a step back to slowly sit down in the metal folding chair that rests open in the corner before he shakes his head at me. “I’m fine Cooter. You shouldn’t be worried about me, but,” he pauses heavily, “should be worried about getting feeling better and out of here.”

I slowly nod as questions begin to build within me of what else could have him this upset and shaken to leave his emotions unguarded as they normally are. To leave him looking so vulnerable and weak as he looks now. Dread thickly fills me as realization powerfully hits me that it has to be something big and bad, something that badly effects someone close to him, someone that is part of his family. Either one or both of the boys or Daisy. “Something has happened to the boys,” I dryly state in attempt to make him open up, guessing the boys because they are the ones that seem to find themselves in the most trouble, “hasn’t it?”

He eyes me with saddened and fear-filled crystal blue eyes as he slowly begins to shake his head in denial before he goes silent and still. “Cooter. You shouldn’t be worrying about anything other than getting better,” he repeats, his voice dry and quivering in emotion, “not about the boys or any of us.”

I shake my head in disagreement. “I will worry about getting better, but I also want to know what  happened,” I slowly state as I fight with the exhaustion that has quickly built itself within me once more, “because something obviously has happened.”

Nervously, he looks away to look up at my small window that shows a sky full of gray clouds before his tired eyes slowly make their way back to me. “OK,” he sighs in resignation, “though I shouldn’t tell you. Not now. Last thing you need is something to worry about,” he pauses as he nervously stands up from his chair, his eyes become clouded with worry and fear. Emotions that I’m not use to seeing written so boldly across his face. “They’re in trouble, but that’s about all I know. They’ve been gone for the last day and a half and,” he goes silent as he stops at the window to stare silently out. With his back turned toward me, he continues, “The Choctaw Bank and Capital City Firearms and Weaponry has been robbed since then…people that were at the bank claim it was Bo who was in charge of the robbery. The weapon store in Capital City was done at night, but found a note near the emptied cash register that was signed by Bo. His handwriting and everything.”

I stare at him for a long moment as I slowly allow all that he had said to digest within me, of the what it all means for the Duke boys. The boys that I had snapped harshly at when they had called in to ask about a part after I had gotten in that argument with Hogg. “I…I’m sorry Jesse,” I finally say, my voice quivering in emotion and in pain as my throat remains swollen and painful due to the breathing tube that they had pulled out a few hours ago.

“Not your fault,” Jesse slowly turns around, “now the FBI believe Bo is one of them. That his brother is apart of the gang and somehow got Bo to join or something like that.”

“His brother?” I ask in surprise as questions slowly begin to rise within me.

“Yeah, his twin,” Jesse slowly nods as we make eye contact for a moment before he returns to the window, “forgot you wouldn’t know he was in town.  He’s one of the men they think beat you. Or at least is in jail for it.”

For a moment, my mind goes back to the pictures that the agent had shown to me before and after I remembered it all and the look of disappointment that had reached his voice when I denied ever seeing the two he had first shown me. “Really?” I slowly ask, “What he look like? They showed me pictures of the two they had in jail,” I pause for a moment, “though I didn’t recognize either one.”

He slowly turns around though stays at the window. “He don’t really look like Bo. Has a goatee, dark blond hair, an ear ring,”he pauses a moment, “an ugly scar running down his neck and a very rotten and bad attitude if you ask me.”

I slowly nod while ignoring the searing pain that runs through me with each movement I attempt to take as my mind goes back to the picture of the man with the ugly scar that had trailed down his neck. “I seen a picture of him…I remember the scar. Though don’t know much about the attitude,” I slowly remark. “That’s Bo’s brother?” I pause, “I think I recall Luke saying at one time or another of Bo having a twin and perhaps a sister, can’t remember though for sure. Knew he told me not to say anything to Bo about it. He didn’t know.”

Jesse sadly nods. “That’s his brother,” he confirms, “though he has yet to meet him. His sister was out at the farm for a while. She’s the one that performed CPR on you.”

“The one that saved my life,” I slowly say aloud before yawning, too tired to hide it any longer.

Jesse silently nods while lending me a small smile while he leans over to place a soft gentle hand upon my bruised shoulder. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” he pauses to stand up, “you get some rest and get feeling better.”

I slowly nod at him as I watch him slowly retreating to the door where he stops to wave back at me for a silent moment before he opens the door to disappear into the brightly lit hallway and closes the door behind him. For a moment, my thoughts are trapped upon what he had said about Bo and Luke’s disappearance, about Bo’s involvement in the robberies. Of Bo’s half sister who had saved my life and his twin brother and his ugly scar running down his neck. After a moment filled with worry and fear for my friends, I am slowly captured into sleep and surrounded by the three men that had beat me once again.

***BO DUKE***

Panic and anxiety abruptly erupt within me as Randal slowly opens the back end of the van a couple of inches to show the familiar old wooden buildings lining Main Street in Hazzard. “You see that store?” Randal slowly turns to me as his black gloved hand points to Rhuebottom’s General Store, “That’s the store we’re going to rob…that you’re going to rob.”

I eye him harshly as old memories of shopping there slowly builds within my head, of chatting with the friendly store owner, and of the arguments that has occasionally built between Daisy and I as of who is to do the grocery shopping.  “Rhuebottom’s?” I ask as I struggle against my emotions that pour through me, “Why would you think of hitting there for? You won’t get -“ I yell out in pain as Sergio leans across the van to backhand me across the face to force fiery flames of pain to erupt in my lungs.

“No one told you to think!” he yells harshly as he stands up to throw a ski mask at me and it lands in my lap, “Put it on and let’s go…just like before.”

I stare at him for a long moment as my heart explodes within me, pounding forcefully within me as I slowly shake my head at them. “I can’t do this,” I finally state as my mind slowly envisions Rhuebottom and his kind smile, of the many town folk that may be in there that I would know.

I gasp in pain and surprise as Sergio abruptly picks me up by my shirt and shoves my back into the metal walling of the van, his dark eyes peering out through the eye holes of the ski mask. “Then you will be watching Luke die slow and painful,” he smiles evilly through the mask as he tightens his hold, “I’ve been waiting for this, just thinking of how I’ll torture him to death. He’ll be pleading me to kill him before I’m through…all this with you watching!” he laughs, “First perhaps I’ll cut off his right ear…I’ll have Randal run it in for you to touch and everyth-“

”Shut-up Sergio!” I quickly spit out as my anger and fear intertwine within me and I quickly yank his arms back and he lets go in surprise, “Don’t you dare touch him!”

Once again, Sergio laughs before Steel touches Sergio over the shoulder with a sharp knife to draw his attention. “Max says it’s time to roll. Get Bo ready to go,” Steel’s thick voice drawls through the eery silence before he steps away from Sergio to eye me, “Let’s go.”

“Or perhaps his left ear,” Sergio whispers in my ear, “think of all that blood!”

Chills race up and down my back as I feel my legs go weak in fear as my imagination draws out vivid images of what Sergio is describing. “Leave him,” I gasp, “alone.”

“I’ll -“ Sergio starts only to get interrupted by Randal.

“Stop it, Sergio. You’re setting off his asthma…he gets an attack, who knows how long it’ll be before he’ll be calm enough to do the job,” Randal says sternly as he places a firm hand upon my shoulder to step behind me, separating me from Sergio, “leave him alone.”

It goes silent as I am shoved forward where Steel climbs out of the van before me and we slowly hide behind the van to wait for Randal and Sergio to climb out behind us. “Ready?” Steel asks eyeing me and then to everyone else. “You remember your role, Duke? Don’t mess up or your cousin pays for his life. Understand?” I slowly nod as I force slow and deep painful breaths to control my breathing, “Good, let’s do it.”

Ignoring the emotions that run rapidly within me, I slowly get behind Randal and Sergio while Steel takes up the back as we quickly walk across the sidewalk to open the door to the old store. For a moment I freeze up as I stare at the familiar store and at the people lined up at the cash register, at the people in the isles. Shopping for their daily groceries, doing an errand, an errand that will change their lives. “OK, everyone freeze right where you are,” I say in my best authoritive voice as Sergio pulls on his ear to remind me of the consequences. Yells and shouts of panic surrounds the old store as Rhuebottom and his customers look at us in fear to send guilt rippling through my body while I force myself to think through the plans they had laid out before me this morning.  Taking a deep breath, I take a couple of steps farther into the store as Steel, Sergio, and Randal begin to move into the store, their guns out and aiming ahead. “I want everyone to listen and listen good. I don’t want anyone to get hurt and I understand your fear, but if you listen to everything I say and cooperate with my people, then no one will get hurt.”

“Look,” Rhuebottom pleas from behind the cash register, “take anything you want. Take everything. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

I silently nod at him as my guilt grows deeper within me and I force myself to think of Luke, of the blood soaked rag that is pressed against his stomach where he had gotten shot. “Listen and do as told, no one will get hurt,” I reassure him, “first of all,” I pause as I look down the dark isles, “I want everyone up front here. You all in the isles and in the back of the store, leave your goods and come up front where the cash register is at. You up front, stay where you are and hands up.”

A baby cries out for a short moment as people slowly walk up the isles to the front as I had told them to do and I watch them momentarily before I advert my attention to Rhuebottom and the people up front. “Bo!” dread fills me as a familiar voice calls my name out and I quickly turn to find Jesse walking up from the isle a couple of feet away from where I am standing. Fear and horror is captured within his bright blue eyes and as he takes a couple of steps towards me, Steel places a firm grip upon his upper arm to pull him back. “Bo!” Jesse says and the fear I had been fighting abruptly explodes within me.

“Bo,” Randal elbows me in the side to bring my attention back to him, “you’re doing good so far man, keep it up. Don’t forget Luke.”

I swallow hardly as I steal a last look at my uncle before nodding and struggling to regain the strength to carry on as I had only moments ago. Thinking of Luke while attempting to ignore my uncle a few feet away, I slowly and sternly say, “A couple of guys will be going around and you are to put in their bags everything you have on you…anything of value. They will search you afterwards, so it’d be easier to just give it to them up front. That way no one will get hurt.” I pause heavily as I watch Sergio and Steel slowly starting their way from the back, “Meanwhile, a couple other guys have broken into the back of the store and will be taking supplies as they wish. Don’t pay them no attention. Look ahead and do as you’re told. No one will get hurt.” With that several masked men begin to walk up and down the isles carrying large thick bags where they begin to pour everything they can get their hands into it.

Silence explodes within the store as Max’s men goes through their motions of doing as they had planned earlier and I hesitantly look over to Jesse to find him staring at me to send chills up and down my back. ‘I have to Uncle Jesse. They’ll kill Luke.’ I silently think, fighting back the urge to yell it out. Sadness and fear run through me as Sergio roughly grabs Jesse’s shoulder to make him look away from me and onto him and I watch as Jesse slowly begins to hand over his pocket watch and wallet. Sergio searches him for a moment before looking evilly back at me and goes onto the next person in line. Jesse eyes Sergio with angered eyes before he slowly looks back at me and I quickly look away, once again struggling with my emotions and for strength to go ahead with it all.

“FBI! Freeze!” A thick and heavy voice explodes behind me and I quickly glance back to find four men standing behind us with guns up while four more appear in the back, “Everyone, drop your guns, hands up!”

My mind instantly falls onto Luke as I eye their dark wind breakers, their dark sun glasses, and their stubborn power that surrounds them. “Your gun, Bo,” Randal whispers in my ear and I slowly nod before I pull the gun that Max had given me out from under my coat, the gun that Max gave to me loaded with vivid images of what would happen to Luke if I were to use it on him or one of his men. I was to only shoot if and when the FBI showed up and that was only at one agent. FBI Agent Treyton Mueller, Keith’s dad. I eye the four agents that stand behind me and dread fills me as I spot Treyton a few feet away from me, his gun aimed at forward. “Head shot, bullet proof vests,” Randal continues to whisper in my ears, “remember Max’s plan. You kill Treyton, you and Luke are free to go. You fail, you watch Luke get tortured to death. Slow and painful.”

For a moment the world comes to a painful halt as my mind spins rapidly through the plan Max had laid out for us this morning to all that Randal is saying to me while Keith looks back at me with innocent eyes. “Bo!” I hear Jesse’s stern voice yell at me from behind as I shakily raise my gun up at the agent who stares back at me with a hardened face. “No, Bo!”

“Don’t listen to him. You listen to him, you’ll be burying Luke,” Randal whispers in my ear, “Aim and shoot before he shoots you.”

“Don’t do it, I’ll shoot,” the agent gruffly says as he takes a slow slide closer to me, his gun aimed at me, his finger resting upon the trigger.

Fear rushes rapidly within me as my mind runs back to Luke getting shot and the pain in his eyes and the blood that had quickly covered his coat. Luke. Taking a deep breath, my own index finger falls upon the trigger of my heavy hand gun that they had given me as I carefully aim it at the agent’s head while I attempt to fight back my emotions and thoughts enough to do as I am suppose to do. A loud explosion shatters the intense silence that had built within the small store as I pull the trigger before I quickly fall to the ground to escape the agent’s shots. “The idiot missed!” I hear Sergio yell as a hand grabs me from under both of my arms and I have to run to keep up with the two men next to me as we run past the four agents while a couple of masked men struggle to detain them.

A short moment later, icy cold wind is blown in my face as we escape into the outside world and I am dragged to the van where I am harshly thrown into the back of. A moment later, the van harshly takes off and I am harshly kicked in the face, my head is thrown back and smacks harshly against the metal wall. Pain harshly explodes in my head and through my lungs with each breath I attempt to take as I force myself to look ahead to find my attacker to be Sergio, his mask now thrown off. “I tol’ Max, he’d mess it up. Three feet away and the idiot misses!” with that, he sends another booted foot into my head and I feel myself falling deeply into the black pit of un-conscienceness.

***UNCLE JESSE***

Disbelief and shock sizzles roughly throughout me as I numbly watch the tall lean figure of my nephew dressed in a dark black windbreaker and a ski masked standing only feet away, eyeing the small crowd of people with empty baby blue eyes. Chills rapidly spread across my body at the sight of my nephew dressed and acting like the other masked armed men that continue to mill around the store. A few in the back throwing food and accessories into their bags while the rest continue to search and rob the people of all the valuables they may have on them.

Abruptly, the old wooden door slowly opens from behind them and the two agents that had been at the farm yesterday appears with two other agents, their guns drawn and pointed ahead of them. “FBI! Freeze!” Mills yells to send Bo and the other masked men turning around to face the four agents, “everyone, drop their guns, put your hands up!”

The masked man besides Bo slowly leans over to whisper something to Bo before Bo reluctantly nods and he shoves his hand into the inside of his windbreaker. Fear and dread heavily sink heavily within me as Bo shakily yanks out a black hand gun and quickly points it Mills’ partner’s head. “Bo! No!” I hear myself yelling, my voice trembling in my emotions. Once again, the other masked men whispers something at Bo as carefully steadies his hand, still aiming the gun at the agent’s head.

“Don’t do it, I’ll shoot,” Mills’ partner gruffly responds, his own gun pointing at Bo, his finger resting upon the metal trigger of his gun. Panic and anxiety grabs a tight hold upon me as my mind leaps into the near future, of Bo’s bloodied body as he loses the gunfight, of burying him deep down into the cold earth while everyone views him as a thief and an attempted killer.

“No, no. Please no, Bo,” I whisper silently, no longer finding my voice to yell at him before I slowly lose myself into prayer. A prayer for this to be over and no one hurt or worse. Of waking up from this nightmare we’ve been caught up in for the past couple of weeks or so since Cooter’s beating. Of some logical reason of why Bo would be entwined with such a dangerous and violent group of men as these men. Something that could get him out of harm’s way without sending him to jail for the rest of his life.

I jump in surprise as my prayers are shattered with a loud explosion that is quickly followed by another loud explosion to send people screaming in fear and panic. While people begin to run in panic, I am stuck in place with intense fear as I watch Bo lying upon the old and cracked wooden floor from one of the explosions. “The idiot missed!” a masked man near me yells out, his accented voice full of anguish and frustration as he rushes towards Bo. Abruptly him and the other masked man that had been standing next to Bo, grabs Bo by each arm and roughly pulls him up to his feet and drags him to the door. They run directly at the agents while a couple other masked men abruptly approach the agents while the men dragging Bo, shove their way through before they disappear out side. Soon after, an engine breaks the silence from outside and an rusted van drives by, taking my nephew away from me once again.

“Mr. Duke,” a voice pulls me out of my thoughts and I turn around to find Mills standing in front of me, “kneel down and hide so you don’t get hurt.”

I shake my head at him, too numb to digest what he is telling me to do. “I can’t. They got Bo. They got Bo,” I hear myself saying aloud.

“Yeah well, Bo tried to kill my partner if you didn’t notice,” Mills angrily retaliates before he points to an empty isle, “now go get out of the way before you get hurt in the process.”

I nod blankly at him as he quickly walks away with his gun extended forward as he continues his search for any remaining gang members. I slowly walk over to where the agent had pointed to as I hear someone yell out in fear from a near isle as a couple of masked men run by with their bags full of goods. “Get out of our way, old man,” a masked man grunts at me as they approach me and I grunt as the other man harshly shoves me and I roughly fall to the hard wooden floor.

“Jesse!” I hear a familiar voice as pain shoots throughout my body from the hard impact and I slowly look up to find Rhuebottom crawling towards me from the end of the isle. “You OK?”

“Physically, I’ll be fine,” I sigh heavily as I glance around his store to find anything the gang had left behind to be torn and thrown to the floor, “I’m real sorry about this, Rhuebottom.”

“Sorry? You had nothing to do with this,” he looks at me quizzically as he silently takes in the damage, “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, that’s the main thing.”

I nod as an agent walks by, cussing angrily under his breath as he looks for any remaining gang members, seeming to come up empty. “Yeah well, perhaps no one got hurt. But there’s been a lot of damage done to the store and financially to the people,” I slowly say as my mind once again falls upon Bo, his voice, thick of authority, echoes in my mind of him ordering people to freeze and to give anything on them to the masked men.

“That was Bo,” Patti Relarn says as she joins Rhuebottom with a couple other of people that had been hiding near by, “wasn’t it, Jesse? He responded to you when you called his name…his breathing sounded like Bo.”

I eye her for a long moment as the picture of Bo full of authority and threat dissipates into a picture of Bo as he had first seen me, when I had called his name. Of the fear, pain, and shame that had instantly filled his baby blue eyes at seeing me until the masked man besides him nudged him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever he had said had reminded him of something and he instantly returned to being in charge and full of threat, bringing fear upon the people he had grown up knowing all his life. People that he has helped out and people that has helped him out from time to time. “I. . .I,” I hear myself stuttering, not wanting to admit it out loud, though know I’ll have to, to Mills when they start their questioning. “I think so. But -“

”No buts about it, Jesse!” Dave Relern yells at me from besides Patti, “It was him…I know it, you know it, we all know it! He is apart of the gang that has robbed our banks, robbed us, that beat Cooter. Bo Duke a criminal, a thief, a cop killer!”

I eye him harshly as I become light headed and dizzy from the accusations that he is giving Bo, accusations that I can no longer argue against now that I saw it for myself. “Dave,” Rhuebotton says calmly, “we all know Bo, he’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do this…there has to be a reason of why he would do this.”

“How can you defend a dirt bag after he did all this to your store?” Hank Johanson spits out besides me, “I’m sorry Jesse…but he’s gone too far this time. There is a lot of people…heck, all of us, that is now suffering due to having no money…since they robbed the bank and stole all our money. The money that we all need to eat from and to cloth our kids, to give them medical attention if needed. Now we have nothing…not a dime to our names.”

Silence surrounds out group as their accusations continue to grow deeper within me, as my emotions continue to unravel violently within me. “Hank…who was it that raised money for you to help pay for Landon’s medical bill after he got hit?” Rhuebottom eyes Hank questionably, “It was Bo. He put on that race with the proceeds going to the hospital to pay for his bill. Patti and Dave, who was it that helped you catch your horses after your fence broke? Who helped catch your horses and build you a new fence?” he pauses for a moment. “It was Bo. Would that Bo that did that for us, do this willingly?” He looks around the small group, “I would say not. Bo is a good kid, he helps out where help is needed and doesn’t expect to get paid or anything in return for his efforts, for his help. Don’t you think we at least owe it to him to at least wait and listen to his side of the story before we pass judgement?”

Once again the group is silent and their attention falls onto me. “Rhuebottom is right,” Dave slowly says, “if we had lost those horses, we would be out of a farm. Who knows where we would go then.”

Hank reluctantly nods. “We’d never be able to pay off the medical bills from his accident if not for Bo’s race and donations. Heck, he even managed to talk all the participants of the race to donate as well…after losing to Bo!” Hank slowly adds, “Plus many of the people that had came, paid extra to donate to the cause. It helped Landon recover a lot faster by giving him more medical help than he would have without the help.” Hank shakes his head, “That Bo wouldn’t do this.”

“OK,” an agent’s voice ricochets off the walls, “it’s safe to come out now. You’ll need to stay around so we can interview you and get your take on what all had happened. First of all, is anyone hurt?”

As no one says anything, Mills’ recognizable voice yells out, “OK, good. Now I want everyone to come out front so we can see you and we’ll take you aside to take your side of what had happened.”

People slowly begin to walk out from where they had been crouched down at to slowly walk to the front as they had been instructed to and I hesitantly follow Rhuebottom and the rest of the people that had been near our isle. “Jesse Duke,” I look ahead as Mills approaches me, eyeing me with cold hardened eyes, “I’ll take you first. Please follow me.”

Dread harshly fills me as I hesitantly begin to follow him through the cereal isle as my mind anticipates the emotional questions he will surely ask, of the accusations that he’ll be glad to accuse Bo of. After a brief moment, he comes to a halt in the far right corner next to a couple of old clear door refrigerators carrying cold food and milk. “OK Mr. Duke,” Mills says, changing my name from Jesse to Mr. Duke. “I want you to tell me honestly of what had just happened here, what you saw, felt…anything you think we may need to know.”

I nod nervously at him as my mind flashes back to Bo’s masked head, of the fear and pain trapped in his baby blue eyes as he had spotted me as I had approached the front of the room as he had instructed. “Well,” I slowly start, “I had stopped here after visiting Cooter to pick up a few groceries for dinner tonight. I was in the process of looking for something to make cornbread with when I heard the masked man yell out for everyone to freeze, for everyone to come to the front with hands up.”

Mills nods slowly as he pulls out small notepad from his back pocket along with a small pen to begin to write upon the first empty sheet he comes across. “OK Mr. Duke,” he slowly looks up as I notice Sheriff Coltrane and Deputy Strate walking down the isle in front of us, dread and fear wrote vividly across their faces as they eye the damages that has been done. Seeing my attention taken away from him, Mills slowly looks over his shoulder to eye the local law, annoyance quickly seems to cover his face. “Great timing you two. What took you this long? We called you the first we got the call at the station that something was up and you said you’d be on your way here.” He rolls his creamy green eyes at the two officers who glances nervously at one another, “You two get lost on your way here or something? Knowing you, you probably did.”

“No…no,” Rosco stutters, anger and embarrassment quickly covers his bright blue eyes, “We didn’t get lost, sergeant,” Rosco pauses as he eyes me for a short moment and back at Mills, “there was an accident on Old Mill Road containing three vehicles.”

“It was a pretty bad accident,” Deputy Strate slowly adds to the sheriff’s statement, “three vehicles involved, but the van that had caused the accident, continued going while the other two vehicles were stuck in a ditch.” He pauses nervously to eye me and back at the intimidating law man, “We had to call an ambulance and help the other people out of their vehicles while getting the tow truck to tow their vehicles out. A couple of people were hurt, but not seriously hurt.”

“Thanks for the report, deputy,” Mills scorns them, “glad you were able to join us after the events you went through. If you want to help, you two can start by talking to people and seeing what happened. Write everything down and when I get done, I’ll come find you. Don’t touch anything!”

Sheriff Coltrane and Deputy Strate numbly nod as they eye me for a last moment before they turn and begin to walk back down the isle that they had walked down. “Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Duke,” Mills slowly says as he turns to face me, “are they the best lawmen that this town could find? I’m surprised anything gets done here with the likes of them.”

I slowly force myself to take a deep breath while attempting to control the harsh emotions that violently tear through me, emotions from the events that had led us to here to intense anger at the sergeant for talking and treating Rosco and Enos as he had. “Look, Sergeant,” I pause for a long moment to sort things through, “I know it’s not my job to criticize you or how you do your job, but you don’t need to be talking or treating Rosco or Enos the way you had,” I pause again as he eyes me with surprise and anger, “Rosco and Enos are fairly good law men, perhaps they aren’t as good as you or do the work that you do, but they do good at what they do. They get the job done here in Hazzard…we’re not in Atlanta Sergeant Mills…we don’t see murderers and thieves and all the bad men you get in Atlanta. That is one of the many pluses we get living in a small town such as Hazzard…nice and peaceful. Most of the time.”

“Most of the time,” he repeats thoughtfully as he eyes his notepad for a moment before looking up, “What happened after you got up front there?”

“Well the masked man giving orders told us to listen and do as we were told and no one would get hurt. That a couple of masked men would be going through the lines of people to take anything of value, we were to hand them over to them and then they’d search us themselves. That it’d be better to hand it over so no one would get hurt,” I slowly continue to explain of the process of what had happened, leaving out any identity of the lead man masked man. I slowly finish by saying, “That’s when you showed up with your guns drawn and telling them to surrender and stop what they are doing.”

“We know what happened next, don’t we, Mr. Duke?” he asks sarcastically, seeming to enjoy this conversation, at seeing my reactions to the events and to his questions, “Did you recognize the lead man? The man who gave out orders?”

I slowly shrug, reluctant to answer his questions. “He wore a mask, Sergeant,” I bluntly respond in attempt to avoiding the questions.

“But you recognized the lead man, didn’t you, Mr. Duke?” he asks as he takes an intimidating step forward, “After all, you yelled at him. You said no and then you said a name. Who was it, Mr. Duke?”

I reluctantly nod at him while the nightmare rewinds and replays itself vividly in my mind, starting from when I had first walked in the door to the men dragging Bo outside. “It was Bo,”I dreadfully respond, “it was Bo.”

“Your nephew? The one that you’ve been proclaiming his innocence since he disappeared a few days ago?” he asks with a smirk on his face, “Sorry to be the one to inform you, Mr. Duke, but people change, people do things you least expect it. People let those closest to them down as they turn from them to do evil work for one reason or another.”

“Look Sergeant Mills,” I hiss heavily, no longer able to restrain my temper, “I know what it looks like, what it seems like to you and everyone else here! But that wasn’t my nephew…my nephew wouldn’t do something like this,” I pause for a long moment as I push him back and away from me, “unless he was threatened or forced into doing it.”

Mills eyes me with fire in his own eyes as he straightens out his coat and slowly pockets his small notepad. “I respect how you must be feeling at this moment, Mr. Duke. I may not be a parent myself, but I come into contact everyday with people like you who find out for the first time or for the hundredth time that their little son or daughter has failed them, has turned against them. I’ve informed more parents than I can count that their son or daughter is a murderer, a killer…that their son or daughter has done some evil and dirty things that I’ll have to arrest them for. Parents that will be forced to visit their children behind bars for several years to the rest of their lives…parents that will be losing their children to the death sentence, just because their children killed someone else’s child. You’re not the only one, Mr. Duke,” he pauses dramatically, “so I can sympathize and understand how you must be feeling, the shock and disappointment. The fear and dread of what is to come.

“With that said, Mr. Duke,” he continues on, throwing daggers of hatred and anger through his cold eyes, “it is my job to catch and arrest the scum bags that are killers, robbers, thieves and so on. No matter what their loved ones must be feeling.”

For a long moment the world seems to come to a halt as realization hits me that no matter what will happen, I will lose Bo. Either to the hardened gang that had attempted to kill Cooter and has killed others in the past or to Mills and the FBI to be thrown into a small locked in cell with large, muscular, hardened criminals that had murdered before, has done awful things to get thrown in there. People who actually did what they were arrested for on their own free will and wouldn’t think twice of doing it again. Fear ripples through my numb body at that bleak future that lies ahead of my nephew in knowledge that Bo wouldn’t last long in the state pen with such men nor would he last long with the gang. He had barely made it out alright after the three weeks he had been stuck in the pen when he had been caught running shine for me. And that was placed in the least threatening part of the state pen, with men who hadn’t killed but with men that had been their for robbing banks and federal buildings, men that weren’t murderers.

“You’re wrong, Sergeant Mills. Bo wouldn’t rob anyone even if his life depended on it, that’s not who Bo is. But we both know I’m just wasting my time in telling you this or anything else defending Bo’s character,” I force my voice to be calm despite how I feel inside, “because you’ve already made your mind on who Bo and what he has done…on whether he’s guilty or innocent. Good luck, Sergeant finding the true men who had done this…on who made Bo do this to his own people. At the end,” I pause to take a couple of steps away from the agent, “you’ll find my nephew innocent, that he is not capable of doing this unless he was someway forced into doing this.”

“You’re wrong, Mr. Duke,” Mills yells at me, “when we find him and his newly acquired gang, we are going to find him guilty and fully responsible for this and the past robberies. We will find him, Mr. Duke and when we do,” he pauses for a moment, “he is going down with the rest of them with charges of robbery, assault, and now shooting and attempting to kill a federal agent.” He laughs sarcastically, “By the time Bo is out of the pen, that is if he ever does get out, he’ll be an old man, Mr. Duke. Older than you…too old to really remember why he was there to begin with.”

I come to a halt halfway across the room as chills run up my back at what he had just said and I reluctantly turn around to find him walking away, disappearing around the next corner. His statement loudly remains afloat in my mind, repeating itself with vivid scenes of Bo entrapped in a small room with a bunch of hardened criminals. ‘He’d never make it to be an old man in there,’ I quietly think to myself as I am once again reminded of Bo’s bleak future while attempting to think of reasons of why he would be doing what he is doing. Of why he would shoot at anyone, especially at an FBI agent or why he’d rob anyone, especially people that he’s grown up knowing and helping out, people who’s helped him out a time or two.

“You OK, Jesse?” a soft voice asks behind me and I slowly turn around to find Rosco and Enos standing a couple of feet behind.

“We heard what Sergeant Mills was saying,” Rosco slowly adds as they slowly approach me, “I know we’ve accused Bo and Luke of doing some evil things before, but we all know that Bo wouldn’t do this or Luke.  There has to be an innocent explanation of why he would do this…perhaps it is someone dressed to be Bo or something.”

I shake my head. “Thanks for your support, but I’m sure it was Bo…no one could imitate his eyes, the expression. But he wouldn’t do this,” I slowly respond, “unless he was threatened or forced.”

They slowly nod in agreement with me. “There has to be something,” Enos slowly breaks the silence, “you’re right. When the truth comes out, so will Bo’s innocence. Mills is just determined to nail it on someone and Bo is the victim in his spot light at the moment.”

“Yeah,” I softly respond as I am reminded of the accident they had been talking about earlier, “you said a van caused the accident?”

“Yeah,” Rosco shrugs, “Lenny Lester and Zecheriah Barler both described it as an old white van with a lot of rust on the sides and back, not a lot of windows in the back.”

I slowly nod. “That sounds like the one that drove away after they dragged Bo away,” I slowly respond, “it was old and a lot of rust. That’s all I saw.”

They both nod at me as silence welcomes it’s way between us while we all seem lost in thought of what all it could mean. “Barb Barler and Justin Lester both got taken away to the hospital, nothing too bad though,” Rosco adds on to say something, “bumps and bruises. Barb was having a little hard time breathing.”

***BO DUKE***

Pain harshly throbs throughout my whole body as I am thrown awake by a rough and cold hand grabbing onto the back of my neck and I let out a small cry of pain as the back door is thrown open and bright light shines in. “We’re here, pretty boy,” Sergio says besides me as he lets go of my neck to grab my arm while Randal yanks upon my other arm, “time to face the music.”

“No, no,” I hear myself begin to protest before being cut off by chronic coughing and I instantly begin to cough up blood and spit and they stop momentarily to let me stop before I feel someone’s hand in my pocket and Randal hands me my emergency inhaler.

“Use it, idiot,” Sergio yells in my ear, “you ain’t gonna die until I’m finished with your cousin.”

Evil laughter spreads around me to spread chills of guilt and shame to run rapidly through while I reluctantly breathe in a couple breaths of medicine before my coughing resides into wheezing. “You messed up, Bo,” Randal says in my ear as Sergio yanks me forward before Randal joins him to drag me into the old house, “I tried to help you and you cousin. You failed.”

“Only an idiot could miss a shot like that,” Sergio says as the door is slammed shut behind us while they drag me a couple of feet farther into the living room area before they both throw me harshly upon the ground. Instantly, Sergio begins to harshly kick me with his sharp and hard boots and I attempt to block each kick, only to fail.

“Enough Sergio!” I hear Max yell out and the kicking slowly subsides while my mind begins to replay what had happened, what I had done. Of Jesse yelling at me to stop while he eyes me with stern and disapproving eyes. “Well, Bo,” Max says before a firm hand lands upon my back and I am dragged to my feet and facing Max who eyes me angrily, “what you have to say for yourself now?”

I watch him momentarily while the pain seems to grow more intense by the second, forcing myself to wonder if it’ll ever stop. “I couldn’t shoot him,” I finally hear myself say as my attention falls away from Max to Sergio who walks over to the TV to turn it on. On the TV, Luke sits tightly chained up to the chair, the rag at his stomach is drenched in his blood while blood drips from a cut from his forehead, from his nose, and from a cut from his lower lip. Luke stares blankly ahead, his bruised eyes are halfway open and halfway closed; giving a look of resignation. A look of resignation from someone who would never give up no matter what, that kept on going even after he had been struck by sharp shrapnel in war and had lost all the members of his troop to the ambush. Resignation or giving up had never been in Luke’s dictionary, until now. “What you do to him?” I finally ask, turning away from the TV to Max.

Max lends me an evil smile as he takes a moment to look at Luke on the television screen a moment before turning around to look at me. “I told you what would happen if you were to mess up…and you messed up,” he shrugs at me, “I ain’t done nothing yet compared to what Sergio here is gonna do in the morning. -“

”In the morning?!” Sergio yells.

“Yeah, in the morning,” Max smiles at me, “that’ll give Bo enough time to think about what he’s done and to think about what you’re gonna do to Luke just because he couldn’t shoot him,” he pauses to wink at me, “As for what I did to him…I just gave him a little preview of how badly we tortured you to death, of how much pain you were in and how you were pleading us to kill you.” He laughs evilly, “And oh did he fall for it…hook line and sinker. He called me a couple of names and said a few things I didn’t like, so I beat him for it. Nothing he didn’t ask for.” He eyes me for a long moment before he back hands me across the face and I let out a yell of pain, “Truth is, I just told him what is in store for him, but told him, that’s what we had done to you…of the pain and fear you were left in to die. And now, you get to watch him die in the same matter he thinks you died in…slow and painful.”

“This is gonna be fun,” Sergio laughs from besides the TV screen, watching Luke.

“I still think you should let me chop him up into tiny pieces,” Steel says from besides me as he yanks out a long and sharp knife, “that way we could throw his pieces into the swamp and let the alligators eat what’s left of him.”

Max shakes his head. “I gave the job to Sergio this time, Steel. Perhaps you can do that to his uncle when we are finished with Luke,” Max says before he abruptly grabs a hold of my jacket and shoves me harshly into a sharp corner and breathing becomes painful and impossible, “that is if we don’t get caught before hand due to you!” Once again, he backhands me across the face and blood begins to drip from mouth and from my nose as panic arises within me as I can no longer breathe.

“Max, he needs his inhaler,” Randal states calmly behind him, “unless you want him to die of an attack before Sergio is to kill his cousin.”

Max eyes me for a long moment before he slowly lets me go and I fall upon the hard ground, the small living room spinning blurrily around me. Randal says something about my inhaler, sounding far and distant as I reluctantly reach into my pocket to grab it out once more. As I breathe in the medicine, small relief slowly sinks in as air slowly comes to me and after the third inhalation, I pocket the inhaler despite the pain remaining in my lungs with each breath. “Now what?” Steel asks from the old and ratty couch, his legs resting upon the coffee table, “You throwing him back in with the kid?”

“Not a chance,” Max grins down at me, “he’s gonna be all by himself in a dark and small closet, that way he’ll have to think of what’s to come. Of what he is doing to his cousin.” He laughs as he yanks me back to my feet before he turns to Randal, “Go and get me some more of that chain…we’ll tie his arms and legs together and throw him into the closet there. It’ll be nice and dark for him in there.”

“No, no,” I hear myself protesting as Randal disappears into another closed door, “have Sergio kill me the way he is to Luke…I’m the one that did it. Not Luke.”

Max laughs momentarily, evil dancing in his gray eyes. “Not a chance, Beauregaurd,” he hisses, “you were aware of the consequences when you didn’t shoot Mueller…and now Luke will pay for that.”

After a short while of silence before Randal walks back into the room with thick wire rolled up in his hands. “I couldn’t find any chain, but found this wiring we could use,” he slowly says as he walks towards us.

“Better yet,” Max smiles at me before throwing me back on the floor and kicks me once again in the face, while he says something to Randal, something that is inaudible to me.

“Next time you’ll listen, Bo,” Randal whispers in my ear as he painfully yanks my right arm back and begins to tightly wrap the wiring around my wrist several times before he yanks back my left arm to tightly wrap my wrist with the wiring with that. I grunt in pain as he lets go and someone seems to hold my arms up by the wiring while Randal roughly yanks my right foot back to shove off my boot and sock.

“No, no,” I gasp painfully for air as he ties the wiring around my right ankle tightly several times before he pulls back my left foot, shoves off my boot and sock to once again wrap the wiring painfully tight around my ankle and jerks the wiring up and wraps it around both of my wrists several times and back down to wrap the wiring again several times around both my feet before tying the knot in the middle.

“Nice and tight,” Randal says as he cuts the wiring, my hands and feet tightly tied together behind me to leave only my stomach and chest upon the floor.

“Very good, Randal. Your boy scouting past has served you well,” Max says evilly and I yell out in pain as he jerks upon the tight wiring and begins dragging me across the room before he reaches a closed door near the front door. Opening it he says, “I sure hope you ain’t afraid of the dark, Duke.” With that he shoves me into the middle of the empty closet and fear and panic accelerates within me. “Remember Duke, what you are to think about. Think of how we are going to torture your cousin to death, slow and painful…while you are thinking of that, just keep reminding yourself of why we are doing it. Because of you. Your choice, your stupidity…it might as well as be you out there torturing him to death. And you’ll be getting the best seat in the house to watch and listen to it all! It’ll be fun!” He laughs evilly as he goes to close the door.

“No, please no!” I yell at him and the room full of men break out laughing as the door is slammed closed and I am surrounded by pure and thick blackness and silence. His voice continues to haunt evilly within me as my imagination draws vivid pictures of what they will do to Luke while Luke’s look of resignation continues to linger in my mind. Staring into the deep evil darkness that surrounds me, I slowly lose myself into a deep prayer, asking for help for Luke to be OK for Jesse to forgive me for what I had done. I sigh heavily as I slowly force myself to realize that the last chance of seeing Jesse may be at Rhuebottom’s store when I had been robbing it, of his look of shock and terror that had spread across his face as he had recognized me.

Closing my prayer, I slowly take deep painful breaths in attempt to control my breathing and my asthma in hope of preventing another harsh attack while the throbbing pain continues to grow within me. The thick cable wires that they had tightly tied around my ankles and wrists and to each other continues to dig deeply and painfully into my skin, seeming to dig deeper into my skin with each breath or movement I attempt to take.  Blood slowly drips from my mouth and my nose as I feel tears begin to run from the corner of my eyes, tears of pain and fear of what will happen the next time they open the doors and I next see the light of day. Luke dying slowly and painfully, because of me. Because I had missed shooting Mueller as I was instructed to shoot, missed Mueller on purpose. Not willing and able to shoot and kill anyone not alone the father of the little boy that is entrapped in the other room in great hopes of his father rescuing him. I sigh heavily as I reconsider my choices and come to realization that Luke would have told me to do what I had done, he’d understand and approve. But still. . .

Chills of fear and dread fill my aching and throbbing body as my mind quickly changes from watching Luke being beat and tortured to death by Sergio to his funeral and of a future without him. If I am able to escape from my own death that they are planning. For a moment, I slide back into the past when Luke had been back at war, fighting daily to help serve and protect America while being shot at daily. Of the fear I had lived in each day of receiving the dreaded letter to announce his death due to the war he was fighting, of losing the only true friend I’ve ever had.  Now I am back to where I had been several years ago at fearing the loss of Luke, of the pain and fear he’ll have to suffer through before he falls into his death. This time, not because of the war he had volunteered to go fight, but because of me. Because I had chose not to kill Mueller as I had been instructed to do, with full knowledge of what would happen if I didn’t kill Mueller. Luke’s slow and painful death. “I’m sorry, Luke. I’m sorry,” I hear myself saying aloud, my voice weak and trembling while my breathing is audibly wheezy. “I’m sorry, Luke,” I repeat as the tears race down my face and onto the cold wooden floor that lies beneath me.