“Duke,” a male’s voice interrupts the silence that had filled the waiting room for the past several minutes and I glance up to find a small thin doctor standing a few feet away. Forcing a smile at him, I slowly stand up with Daisy to walk up to him to find that he stands a couple of inches shorter than I with thick gray hair and penetrating dark blue eyes. “I’m Doctor Aggle, I’ll be Luke’s doctor.”

I nod as I once again fight back the emotions that fight back and forth within me as they have been through the couple of hours that we have been trapped within the waiting room, waiting on word on Bo and Luke. “How is he, doctor?” I slowly ask, afraid of the answer he will give us.

“Well, I’ll tell you this first, Mr. Duke. Luke is a very strong and lucky man to still be alive after what he had just went through and the injuries he had suffered,” he pauses to refer to his clipboard and back at us, “With that said, Luke is badly beaten and bruised. He had been shot in the lower stomach and with the degree that it had began to heal, had been shot some time ago before he was able to receive the help he needs. Meaning he lost a lot of blood and the area is pretty badly infected. Lucky for him his captors wanted him alive and had tied a cloth to that area to cut off the bleeding, otherwise he would have bled to death,” he pauses to let what he had said to sink in, “though as I said, he did lose a lot of blood from his shot wound and from other cuts. He’s also lucky in the fact that the bullet didn’t hit anything vital or damage anything vital within him. In other words, his captors are smart and knew what to do to injure him enough to stop him, but not to kill him.”

He goes silent once more as he eyes his chart on his clipboard for a long moment before he looks up at us to take us in with his dark eyes before he continues to describe Luke’s injuries. “Luke has also suffered from a bad concussion, he has broken three ribs, one that has scratched his lungs to make it painful for him to breathe. He has internal bleeding, which like his cousin’s, had taken us awhile to get to stop,” he pauses for a short moment as a nurse walking past grabs his attention for a short moment before he returns to us, “His surgery to remove the bullet went very smoothly and his breathing and heart beat seem to be fine and are where they should be. As lucky as he is, with some pain and discomfort, he should be able to walk out of here within a few days for observation.”

I sigh heavily as relief at the news of Luke slowly flows rapidly within me while common sense reminds me not to get my hopes up as my thoughts fall onto Bo and the obvious trauma he had went through. “Thank-you doctor, can we see him?” I slowly ask as I steal a look from Daisy.

“One at a time,” Aggle smiles at us, “he’s still asleep as of now, but may be waking up soon. It’s up to him. We had given him a sedative before doing surgery in case he would wake up during it.”

I nod before I glance at Daisy. “You wanna go see him first since I went to Bo?” I slowly question.

“You better go, I’ll go check on Bo,” she forces a small smile again, “see if he’s ready for visitors yet.” She goes silent for a moment before Mills and Mueller walk past us and down the hall to where Bo’s door remains closed, “Or I guess I’ll wait.”

I nod as I glance over Aggle’s shoulder to watch Mills turning the door handle and after a moment they both step into Bo’s room, closing the door behind them. “OK,” I smile at her before nodding at Luke’s doctor and he slowly turns around to take me past Bo’s room as my thought turn to the agents within Bo’s room, wondering how Bo will handle them if he is unwilling to talk to me.

“I’m sure Dr. Weaver gave you this warning about Bo,” Aggle finally says a few doors down away from Bo’s, “but Luke looks pretty bad with all the bruises, bruises, and the machines.”

“OK, thanks,” I force a smile and he nods as he waves while turning away to walk back down the hall to the waiting room and I slowly open the door. Walking in, I find that Aggle or a nurse had left on Luke’s lamp from next to the TV on the stand to send rays of light across the floor and upon Luke’s hospital bed. Taking a deep breath, I close the door behind me and slowly walk up to Luke’s bed where he lies silent and still, his face swollen and bruised while a thick bandage covers his forehead and a thick blood stain seeps through it. A couple of IV’s slowly drip into each of his bruised arms that rest upon the thin sheet while a small air tube rests in his nose and the monitors next to him run slightly slow, but nothing to abnormal.  “Luke,” I slowly say to announce my presence while lying a hand upon his shoulder, “I’m here. It’s all over now, you and Bo are safe at last.”

***LUKE DUKE***

Intense pain shoots rapidly up and down my numb body as I am abruptly thrown awake and through thickly blurred vision, the room seems to spin quickly around me before coming to a halt. For a moment, a series of questions rush through me as of where I am and how I had gotten here before Max’s evil face vividly appears in my mind. Of the hatred and anger that had shined in his evil gray eyes as he tauntingly told me of all that he had done to Bo, of how he had tortured Bo to death and once again my mind goes to Bo in sadness. Thinking of what his last thoughts must have been, of what he had went through; of being alone and afraid as he faced the last moments of his life. Guilt builds within me in realization that I had survived it all while he had been killed, he lost his life at the hands of Max because I had suggested we should go search for Cooter’s true attackers. If I had only left it to the FBI. . .

“Luke,” Jesse’s familiar voice breaks the silence and I reluctantly glance around the small room before my attention focuses upon Jesse who slowly walks away from the small window and to my bed. “You’re awake,” he states as he gives me a smile, “I’m so glad to see you awake. To see you alive. I thought for sure we had lost you.” His smile broadens as he offers me a gentle hand upon my shoulder, “The farm just wasn’t the same without the two of you,” he goes silent for a moment as sadness crosses his face and I slowly wonder if they had found Bo and he was told of how bad Bo was beaten to death. “How you feel, Luke?”

I slowly shrug to force the pain to increase rapidly within me and I quickly fall still against the old hospital bed, my thoughts fall deeply into the past of visiting Bo in the hospital as he suffered from an attack. It had always been him in this situation and not I. The only time I had lied in the hospital had been in Iraq when I had gotten hit by a sharp piece of shrapnel in the attack that had killed the rest of my troops. Leaving me hospitalized for a couple of months on base, struggling to survive through the heavy loss of blood and the damage the shrapnel had done within me. Two months of figuring I was going to die without seeing my family again, without being able to tell them good-bye before I had gotten better and they had given me an honorary discharge. Fighting back the intense flashback of the attack that continues to vividly haunt me after a year of being home, I slowly force a smile to Jesse. “I feel like I got hit by a train,” I am thrown into coughing forcefully, my lungs going aflare in pain to make me wonder if this is how Bo feels with each breath he takes. “But considering what they were going to do to me, I should consider myself lucky.”

Jesse nods. “That’s what Doctor Aggle, your doctor, says. Says you are very strong and very lucky to be alive and that you didn’t bleed to death,” Jesse informs me before going silent and the room falls into silence with the annoying beeping from the TV shaped monitors.

After a short moment of my thoughts bouncing rapidly within me of my past, of Bo, of being held hostage, I finally ask the dreaded question. “Bo?”

“Shhhh,” Jesse soothes me as if I were a child about to be upset, “it’ll be OK. Everything -“

”No!” I yell at him to interrupt him and he gives me a look of shock, “No…nothing will be OK! They killed Bo, how can you sit there and tell me that everything will be OK? Nothing will be OK!”

He eyes me with surprise for a moment, still too in shock to respond to the way I had talked to him which in the past would have meant to be reprimanded for disrespect. “No, no,” he whispers as tears form in his bright blue eyes, “Bo’s not -“

”Did. . did they,” I silently interrupt him once more, lowering my voice, “find him?”

“Yeah,” Jesse slowly nods, the tears falling from his eyes to drip down into his thick beard, “yeah. They found him right after they had captured Max and his gang.”

A rush of emotions rapidly spins throughout my throbbing body as my imaginations builds images vividly within me of how they had found Bo while my thoughts continue to race rapidly within me. “How bad was he?” I slowly ask, fearing the answer.

“Well um,” Jesse stutters, eyeing me with uncertainty, “he wasn’t breathing when they found him and he barely had a heart rate, but they got it stabilized for the most part. As of now they are mainly concerned about his breathing. His -“

”His breathing?” I ask in heavy disbelief as questions roll rapidly within me. Could Max have been lying all along? Could Bo actually be still alive after all this time with Max? Be alive after all this time without his medication? “You mean -“ I slowly begin to ask to cut myself off, daring myself not to get my hopes up, “you mean, he’s still alive?”

I glance up at Jesse as he slowly nods, a small smile crosses his face as he wipes at his eyes and for the first time exhaustion seems to flood across his aging face, making him look a lot older than he had looked when I had last seen him. “He’s a couple of rooms down the hall from your room,” he slowly responds.

“How bad is he?” I dreadfully ask as my mind replays the scene of when I had last seen him as we had climbed out of The General, of helplessly watching the two men beating him.

Jesse shrugs. “He looks as badly as beaten as you do and has the injuries to confirm it. As I said, his breathing is their main concern as his asthma is really acting up and he’s having a hard time breathing on his own,” Jesse pauses, “he has a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and his left wrist is cracked due to the rope or whatever they used to tie his hands and feet together. His hands and feet are badly bruised with deep indents where they had been tied at, his doctor said he’s lucky that he still has circulation in them.”

I slowly look away from my uncle as I allow all that he had said to sink in to force sadness to run through me at the sound of how bad he had been treated. Looking back at him, I slowly ask, “And yet, you’re here with me?”

His eyes widen slightly at my question. “I care for you as much as I do him, Luke,” he pauses for a short moment as a distracted look crosses his face before he focuses back on me, “I’m here because I’m worried about you just as I am him. I already visited him, it’s your turn.”

“I’m not saying that you care more about him than me, Jesse,” I slowly respond as my thoughts turn to Bo’s emotional disorder, wondering how badly he is taking all of this, “it just seems as if you should be with him instead of me, I guess.” A saddened look crosses his face as he shakes his head at me. “I think you are hiding something else though. The FBI kick you out of his room?”

He forces a smile. “You’ve always been the observant one. I could never hide anything from you,” he responds before slowly falling silent and serious, “but no, the FBI didn’t kick me out, though they are in there now.  So I guess they would have anyway,”he falls silent once more and more worry makes it’s way into his blue eyes as I wait him out, “I got asked to leave by Bo’s doctor after Bo told me to leave. No,” he sighs heavily, “he didn’t tell me, he yelled at me to leave.”

“Bo?” I slowly question in disbelief and Jesse slowly nods, “Why would he do that?”

Jesse shrugs silently as he looks up and out the window for a moment before his attention returns to me. “He thinks you’re dead,” he pauses dramatically, “that he had you killed. And he won’t be persuaded else wise.”

More disbelief and questions run through me at his last statement, wondering how Bo would come up with that response other than to think that Max had been telling him the same about me as Max had about me. “Max can be pretty convincing,” I slowly respond after a brief moment.

***SERGEANT FBI AGENT FRANK MILLS***

The un-rhythmic beeping of the small monitors slowly builds annoyance and frustration within me as I stare at the young blond Duke lying in the hospital bed. Dark bruises swell his face while a thick cut spreads across his forehead, thick indents deeply circle around his wrists and surrounded by bruises to display the viciousness that Max is capable doing upon another human being, showing the little care and concern he holds for other people. “Keith says,” Mueller whispers in my ear who had been able to visit his boy after a check over by the doctors and had been the one to question him, “that he was in the room with him and protected him from Max. He said at first he thought Luke was dead but then Max had yanked him out and when Bo came back to the room he was shook up about something, saying something about having to do something in order to keep Luke alive.” Mueller slowly continues to fill me in on what Keith had said about Bo. “Then one time they took Bo out and Bo didn’t return. Keith said he thought they killed Bo, but when they took Keith out of the room in the raid, Bo was lying on the ground all tied up as we had found him.”

I nod as my attention falls back onto Bo who moans before yelling out in fear, his eyes abruptly opening while he gasps painfully for air for a moment as he looks frantically around the room. After a moment the fear and terror in his eyes resides reluctantly into relief as his breathing slowly calms down. Fear slowly rebuilds across his bruised face as he slowly focuses on us as we stand besides him, looking down at him as we had discussed what Keith had said. “Leave me,” he gasps as tears form in his eyes, “alone.”

“Sorry Beauregaurd, we can’t do that,” I fake a smile as I take my notebook out of my inside pocket with my pen before grabbing my wallet out with my ID and shield. Mueller mimics me and we both hold it open for him to see and he eyes the shields with bright eyes as a child would have done. “I’m Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills. This here is my partner Agent Treyton Mueller.”

He eyes me reluctantly before he looks up at Mueller with slight recognition. “Keith’s dad,” he finally says, wheezing loudly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Treyton responds slowly besides me, “he said you really looked out for him while you were held in the same room. Thank-you.”

Bo nods for a short moment before becoming still, the pain apparent in his eyes. “Nice kid,” he finally comments.

“Now that we got all that out of the way,” I quickly say to bring everyone’s attention onto me, “We are here to ask you a few questions about all that had happened, Beauregaurd.”

“It’s Bo,” Bo spitefully responds, eyeing us harshly.

“OK. Bo,” I slowly respond, correcting myself, “let’s start from the beginning. What happened?”

For a long moment, Bo stares at us with emotion filled eyes, looking back from Mueller and back to me before he turns and stares out the window. After a long moment he turns back to eye us and says, “Luke and I,” he goes silent once more, tears streak his bruised cheeks, “were driving down by the swamp. Luke was driving, I was in the passenger seat. When someone…they shot out our tires. Luke tried to keep control, but lost it and we ended up in the ditch and stuck against this tree so we got out. I got attacked by two guys and Luke was -“ he goes silent for a short moment, emotions clouding his blue eyes, “Luke was shot. I was taken to the room with Keith and they had taken Luke supposedly to the shed I think. It looked like the shed.”

“OK,” I respond while taking a few notes, “what happened after being in the room with Keith?”

He remains silent, struggling to breathe while staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts once again. “You know what happened,” he dryly responds, “I robbed that bank and then that gun and weaponry store. Then I robbed Rhuebottom’s here in town where I shot at you and missed.” He points at Mueller as he attempts to sink further into his bed, “I’m sorry.”

Mueller begins to nod in understanding and I quickly ask, “Why?” Bo sends me a questioning look and I continue, “Why you rob all those places? Why you shoot at Mueller there for? Why you join Max’s gang?”

A look of surprise and anger registers boldly in his eyes and he slowly sits himself up to glare up at me. “I did not join Max’s gang! I was never a part of  -“ he is quickly interrupted by harsh coughing to send his monitors squealing in alert as he falls back onto his bed before the coughing fades into harsh wheezing. “I was never a part of Max’s gang.” Bo finishes calmly, his eyes darting from me to Mueller and back to me.

“If not, why you rob the bank and the other places? You robbed your own local grocery story here in town. You robbed innocent people that you knew! Heck, you robbed your own uncle!” I yell to send more tears streaking down his face, his eyes growing distant, “Why you shoot at Mueller for?!”

“I did what I needed to do,” he slowly responds breathlessly as he looks away from us.

“What does that mean? You needed the money?” I question, “What you do with the money anyway? Or did they share it with you?”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t get any money,” he slowly responds, “I robbed the bank and stores and had Luke killed.” He goes silent as he bites his lower lip as the tears freely melt from his eyes before he says, “There. You got my confession. I’m done talking to you.”

I give him a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry Bo. It don’t work like that, we’ll be done when we’re done,” I throw back at him and he shakes his head at me. “What you mean you had Luke killed?”

For a long moment the room is surrounded by the monitors annoying beeping and his harsh wheezing as he fights to breathe as he remains silent, staring up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. “It means what it means. I had Luke killed,” he eyes me angrily as he throws his bruised hands in the air, “just arrest me!” With that he once again begins coughing harshly while spitting something up into his cupped hands before his coughing abruptly ends and his thin chest falls still. With that, the door behind us is thrown open and a doctor with a machine in his hands walks in, eyeing us harshly before making his way in between me and Bo.

“Bo,” he says as he places a hand upon Bo’s forehead and Bo blankly looks at him and then at me, “calm down Bo. It’ll be ok, just calm down.” The doctor looks down at the machine in his lap and slowly begins to place an air mask onto it while putting some clear liquid into a small entrance in the tubing. After a long couple of seconds he places the mask onto Bo’s mouth and turns it on to bring another small and annoying noise into the room. “There we go, Bo. Breathe it in,” with that the doctor stands up and eyes us, “I’m going to have to ask for you both to leave his room and to leave him alone for a while.”

“I’m sorry, doctor, we can’t do that,” I force a smile at the lanky doctor, “we are interviewing him and it is crucial to our investigation.”

He eyes me with fiery green eyes. “Look Sergeant, I respect that you are doing your job, but I also ask that you respect that I am doing my job. It is my job to take care of Bo and as long as you are here asking him these questions, you are making him upset,” he pauses, “you make him upset it sets off his asthma and he stops breathing. It is important right now that he gets his rest in order to get well and to get stronger. So I have to ask you to please leave him alone so he can rest.”

I eye him for a moment and then back down at Bo who has fallen asleep, his tears remain fresh upon his face. “Fine. We’ll be leaving for now,” I pause to take a couple of steps away from him, “but we have to come back in order to finish our interview and our investigation. Whether you and him like it or not. Come on Trey, let’s go check up on the other Duke.”

***LUKE DUKE***

“Damn,” I cuss aloud to interrupt the silence that had built in the wake of Jesse’s departure as I slowly direct my attention to the closed small window that lies several feet away. The once pure dark sky now shines of a bright blue as the early morning swiftly shoves the night away to begin a new day, a new day that brings everyone freedom from the fear that Max and his gang had created for everyone. The bright sky promises of a warm and sunny day beyond these thick walls while my thoughts and emotions darkly storms within me. Even relief and happiness to be alive and free from the hands of Max and his gang lies deeply within me, fear, sadness, and worry seems to drown it all away. Fear, sadness, and worry for Bo and what looms ahead of him as he struggles to get through what he had lived through, what he survived through, and through what he thought had happened.  For a moment, my thoughts flash back to where this all had began when he had witnessed the paramedics loading Cooter’s beaten and bloodied body into the ambulance. Of how badly he had taken the sight of Cooter who he had assumed to be dead, of the asthma attack it had created, and the emotional scarring it had brought upon him. If that wasn’t bad enough for him, he is now certain that he had me killed. . .

My thoughts are slowly interrupted by the small squeak of the door slowly opening and I glance away from the window to find Daisy walking into the room, closing the door behind her. “Luke!” she exclaims giddily as she quickly approaches my bed. “Can I give you a hug? Or would that hurt too much?”

“A hug that hurts too much? No such thing,” I force a smile as I bring her into a hug before we let go and I rest against the bed, attempting to shove back the pain and my emotions, “How have you been?”

“Me?” she asks surprised.

I sarcastically glance behind her and around the room. “Well,” my attention falls back onto her, “I don’t see anyone else in the room. So it must be you.”

She smiles sincerely at me as she takes my hand carefully into hers. “Well, I’m doing fine now that I know both you and Bo will be OK,” she pauses as she grows serious, “I just wish that y’all didn’t have to live through and see all that you did to bring you to where you are now. I wish all this was a bad dream and I could wake up right now and it all go away.”

I nod painfully. “I know. Me too,” I force a smile in agreement with her, “but it’s not. We’ll be fine, Daisy, that’s the main thing.”

She nods. “We’re all lucky to still have you after all that you went through. All your injuries,” she forces a smile as she wipes at her cheeks to brush her tears away, “I’m just so grateful to be standing here talking to you. To be honest, I had given up hope long time ago of ever getting to talk to you alive again…you and Bo. I haven’t talked to Bo yet, but I’ve heard he should be fine,” she goes silent and after a moment her eyes seem to light up in thought of something, “Talking about being fine, Jesse tell you who woke up?”

“No, I think he forgot,” I shake my head as my thoughts once again turns to Cooter who had remained in his coma the last time we had seen him.

“Cooter did. A couple of days ago,” she smiles at me, “he looks as bad as you do, but the doctors say he should be fine. Miraculous as it is. All three of you surviving all that you went through.”

“That’s great to hear!” I slowly say as a knocking sound comes upon the door before the door opens and two muscular men wearing black pants and a dark blue wind breakers walk in, eyeing us with hard eyes. “I take it y’all are the FBI.”

“Correct. Excuse us miss,” the man with sandy brown hair says to Daisy, “we’re here to talk to Luke. We’re going to have to ask you to leave while we talk to him.”

Daisy eyes me for a moment before nodding at the two men and slowly waves to me as she slowly makes her way to the closed door before she opens and walks back out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. “I take it you’re the man in charge, sergeant,” I eye the sandy brown haired man who eyes me with emotionless creamy green eyes before looking at his partner who stands a couple of inches shorter than him with light brown hair and looks younger.

“Correct again, give the kid an A,” he says, a serious look stuck across his face as they both take out wallets and shows me their Ids and badges. “I’m Sergeant FBI Agent Frank Mills. My partner Agent Treyton Mueller. We’re here to ask you some questions regarding all that has happened.”

I slowly nod. “Well, I was driving the General with my cousin in the passenger seat. . .” I slowly start to begin how we had gotten caught, from landing in the ditch to someone in the trees shooting me in the stomach. “I woke up tied to this pillar or pole in some shed with this thick chain and this guy describing how they had killed Bo. They had no use for him, but had use for me. Later they moved me from the pole and tied me to a chair,” I pause heavily, “they kept saying they tortured Bo to death, they had no use for them, but they had use for me. According to my uncle and Daisy, Bo’s still alive, and they never had me do anything other than to sit there and to beat me as they wish.”

“Oh don’t you worry,” Mills coldly states, “you served their plans perfectly, you just didn’t know it or what it was. What you say if I told you that we have evidence enough to press charges against Bo for robbery, theft, breaking and entering, and shooting at an federal agent. Attempting to kill a federal agent.”

Anger abruptly explodes within me at the accusatory charges he had just listed off for Bo and I quickly sit up and tightly grab a hold of his windbreaker to pull him close to me. “I’d say that you have no clue what the hell you’re talking about, Sergeant!” I hiss angrily at him, wishing for the strength to be able to strangle him for what he had said, “You know little about my cousin, Sergeant. Bo wouldn’t hurt a damn fly unless he was forced to do so. . .yeah he has a temper and he’ll start fights with anyone who gets him upset, but shoot at someone? Attempt to kill someone?” I shake my head in disgust as I angrily shove him away, “Heck, I can’t see him shooting at anyone even if y’all shot at him first. He just wouldn’t do it. Nor would he rob anyone or anything or anything else you are accusing him of doing! If you want the definition of innocent and honest, just look at Bo!”

Mills dramatically straightens out his windbreaker while eyeing me angrily, Mueller’s blue eyes watches his partner and then back at me with a look of sympathy. “Well next time you see your uncle, why don’t you ask him? He was there when Bo and his new friends robbed Rhuebottom’s General Store and all the people that was in it. Then he shot at Mueller there when we had came in. Missed Mueller by an inch, if that.”

I eye them both hoping to find a glimmer of a joke in them to find them both somberly looking at me to send chills racing up and down my back, my thoughts racing rapidly through me of what they are saying. Or why Bo would do what they are saying he’s done. “If Bo wanted to shoot you in the head Agent, he would have done so. Especially at that close of range. He may not be a federal agent or part of any military organization, but he does know how to shoot a gun and has great aim,” I slowly state as my heart races rapidly within me as realization soars through me, everything making sense as if placing the last piece of a puzzle together. “They, Max and his gang, forced Bo to rob the bank and Rhuebottom’s Store. Told him that if he didn’t do as they said, they would kill me. That’s the only thing I can think of to explain why he would do such a thing and would explain Max’s plans for me. As you were saying.”

They both continue to eye me silently, trying to intimidate me by their harsh and tense looks. “That’s what we’re thinking and gathering through evidence and of what my son has said. Everyone who we talk to say that Bo wouldn’t do that, even the ones who saw and identified Bo,” Mueller speaks up for the first time to receive a cold look from Mills, “though Bo’s not saying a thing. Other than he did it and that he had you killed.”

I eye them both skeptically as chills once again run up and down my body at hearing them say the same thing that Jesse had said. Had me killed? How?  “He wasn’t there,”I slowly state, “it was Max. Then a couple of your agents came in and when Max tried to shoot me, one of the agents shoved me down to force Max to miss. How does he get that he had me killed?”

Mueller sighs and whispers something to Mills before eyeing me for a long moment. “Look a couple of weeks before Max had kidnaped Keith, we had raided their hideout in Atlanta. Our plans were flawless, we went over them with a comb as we always does, but apparently there was a flaw in it, because they escaped leaving only a couple of their guys behind for us to arrest,” he pauses, “Anyway, during the raid and the shootout, I was teamed up against Max’s son, Connor. Connor shot at me and barely missed and then on the second time, he shot me in the upper chest and as he went to shoot me again, I shot him first. Killing him.” Mueller goes quiet for a short moment, taking long and deep breathes as he looks around the room and back at me. “That’s what all this is about. In Max’s own words, a son for a son. I killed his, he stole mine with the threat of killing him. And thanks to Bo and Garrett, he didn’t get to do that.”

“Garrett? I thought Garrett was in jail,” I slowly ask, confusion running through me.

“He was until he blackmailed Ronnie to help him escape where he came to us to warn us of our two agents being killed and then gave us a hint of their hideout that he had overheard Ronnie and Steel talking about,” Mills slowly pipes in, seeming to relax as he explains of how Garrett escaped from Rosco and Enos and then snuck up on Max with a gun to his head, convincing Max to let go of Keith and then to explain to them of Garrett’s innocence of Cooter’s beatings and not being a part of their gang. “He’s still back at the jail on account of his past charges, but we’re considering changing that.”

I eye them both as my mind falters from the charges they were talking about to how Garrett had helped them rescue Keith, but also find Bo and I before we were killed. “Anyway about Bo,” Mueller speaks up as if answering my questions, “we are assuming from what we know and from what a gang member that is talking has said, Max wanted him to shoot and kill me upon entering. He shot, but missed which brought upon him being tied so tightly and shoved into a dark and small closet until it was time for Max to fulfill your plans or shall I say Bo’s consequence.”

I eye them as Bo’s nightmare that they are explaining vividly shines in my mind, the pain and fear that he had went through in order to keep my alive, of how alone and scared he must have felt. “Well he must have missed on purpose,” I slowly reply, “as I said, he is known for an good aim. Guns or bow and arrow.”

“Well him missing me on purpose is what had gotten you almost killed,” Mueller finishes, “though I am sure if Max’s plan fully worked through, he would have had you both killed sooner or later.”

I sigh painfully, my mind continuing to spin with my thoughts and emotions. “Well I’d much rather him not kill you and face the consequences of his actions than for him to kill you. So he did the right thing,” I pause for a long moment, “So that’s where is getting that he had me killed?”

“Yeah and that when we had pulled the electricity, it had been just as Max had pulled the trigger and Agent Russler had just began to knock you over. So in his mind, Max shot you. We seen the tape, you could barely see Russler before the tape goes black,” Mills slowly responds, his tenseness and rough guy attitude has seemed to disappear and as I give him a questioning look he nods and explains, “There was four security cameras, one placed in each corner of the shed you were in. They had the tape playing inside the house, making Bo watch and listen to all that was done and said within the shed to you. They probably beat you real good first to get their point across to Bo. When he first went through with the first robbery, they then changed you from the pole to the chair. A little reward to Bo for doing as he was suppose to do.” He slowly pauses, “We haven’t seen all of the tapes, but we got a couple of agents going through them. First your injury at war and now this. Damn you’re tough.”

Anger and disbelief rolls rapidly through my numb body as what he had just said thickly sinks in through me while I silent think of what he had been forced to witness and go through. “Well I appreciate your honesty and openness here with me about what had happened or what you think has happened,” I slowly state, “because Bo wouldn’t do all that you were accusing him of doing. That just isn’t him.”

“Well, Sergeant,” Mills states, using the formal name I had responded to only a year or so ago, “I couldn’t lie to you any longer than what I had already, especially since you described what the snitch in Max’s gang has said and what Keith had said. Now if only Bo would open up and tell us his side of the story. Other than he did it.”

I nod. “He doesn’t deal with stressful situations very well, Sergeant, he has a tendency of shutting out the whole world. So you are lucky that you got him to say anything at all to you. Especially if you came in and started accusing him as you had to me,” I boldly state, “plus you add in the guilt he must be feeling for what he had done and what he thought he had done, he is probably convinced that he should go to jail. That he’s guilty. That’s all he’s caring about…that he had me killed and what he did was wrong. We were brought up knowing what is right and what is wrong and to always do the right thing no matter what or how tempting the wrong thing is. Do what you would want done to you.”

They both nod and go silent while Mills pockets the small notebook that he had been writing in within his windbreaker. “Well I think we got all that we had came for from you. Thank-you for your cooperation, Sergeant,” Mills states slowly, “if you can think of anything, give me a call.” With that he hands me a calling card. “Get feeling better.”

I nod as I watch both of the agents slowly walking out of my room, closing the door behind them to leave me alone once again to deal with my thoughts that spin wildly within me and the rough emotions that tug within me. My imagination continues to recount what the agents had said that had happened, of what Bo went through and had seen, and of Max’s gang’s plans. If Garrett hadn’t escaped and alerted the FBI or didn’t escape from the car to help clear his own name, Bo and I surely would have been killed. Max would have had plenty of time to kill us both and then pack up and leave as he had been planning to do until the FBI pounding on his door interrupted his plans. The same Garrett Duke that we all had been sure had beaten Cooter so badly. All because of his attitude and from the background that he knew little about, so easy to find guilt within a stranger for the pain of a friend.

Once again, my attention falls upon the window looking out beyond the old hospital and at the bright sunny early morning sky to send my thoughts faltering away from Bo and our current situation for a moment and onto Hazzard. My mind visualizing people getting up and getting ready for the day, of the farmers out working on their land and with their animals for a couple of hours now, of the business owners preparing to open their stores for the day. Of the normalness of everyday life that I had so often taken for granted even after returning from war and seeing death more than life, after I had merely missed losing my own life to the war. Of the normalness that I may once again witness and to live after I am released from the hospital and Max and his gang are taken away from the Hazzard scene. Though the nightmare that Hazzard had went through will hold a permanent mark upon all those deeply affected, life will continue to go on.

Exhaustion thickly and quickly hits me as the silence builds within my room and now that I am left alone to deal with my own thoughts and emotions. Sighing heavily, I slowly close my eyes to allow sleep to sink in and to over come me.

*                      *                      *

I am abruptly thrown awake from the intense nightmare that had plagued my sleep, a vivid nightmare filled with clear and loud images of Bo suffering at the hands of Max and his gang. Vivid images of all that the FBI had described they had thought had happened to Bo and the reasoning behind his involvement with Max’s gang and shooting at the agent. Bo’s cry of pain and fear screaming in my head as he faced the beatings he received from Max, of the horror he went through as Max had went to kill me. Kill me because he didn’t kill Agent Mueller.

My eyes slowly adjust to the shadowy room as the scenes of the nightmare continues to flash in my mind, Bo’s cries echo in my ears as I attempt to push the nightmare away, though fail. Sighing heavily, I slowly glance at the clock that hangs above the old and small TV to find it to be already ten in the morning and I calculate that I had fallen asleep for three hours. Three hours of visualizing Bo suffering at the hands of Max all because I had suggested we should go look for clues on where Cooter’s attackers where at. If only I hadn’t. . .

“Knock, knock,” a confident male’s voice calls out from the other side of the door to interrupt my thoughts. A moment later, the door slowly opens and a an older doctor walks in with a head full of thick gray hair. “Your awake. How you feel?”

I eye him skeptically as he stops at the bars of my bed, eyeing me with dark eyes while awaiting for an answer and once more my thoughts turn back to Bo and his fear of hospitals and doctors. Only to send more questions running rapidly within me of why he had so angrily thrown Jesse out when in the past he had pleaded Jesse not to go. Refusing to be left alone to deal with the hospital and doctors by himself, yet now he pleads to be alone. “I’ve been better, but I am sure I could be a lot worse,” I slowly answer my doctor’s question as he impatiently moves from foot to foot, his arms across his chest, “I’d be better if I was able to pay Bo a little visit. You think that could be possible?”

He quickly shakes his head no at me, determination and stubbornness set in his eyes as he eyes the monitors and then back at me. “I don’t think that would be a wise decision right now,” he plainly states, “not with your injuries and not this close after surgery. Perhaps in a couple of days of rest and -“

”I don’t mean to argue with you, doctor, or to cause you any problems, “ I interrupt him as I sit up in my bed as my thoughts return to the last time I had seen Bo, of the two large men dragging his still body away. Max’s description of how badly he had beaten and tortured Bo to death whispers tauntingly within me and the need to see him abruptly explodes within me. “But there is no way that I can lie here and wait a couple of days to see my cousin. . .not after all that we went through. Not after thinking so long that they tortured him to death and now to be told differently, that after all this, he is still alive. No,” I shake my head while ignoring the pain it inflicts within me, “I don’t think I can wait that long. So you have two choices, you either help me to go visit him or I pull all these wires and all this other stuff you got attached to me and I will find him myself to visit. Your choice, because you can’t force me to stay here.”

He nods quietly while eyeing me with stern eyes. “OK. Point taken,” he finally responds, “I’ll have to go see with his doctor and see if he is up to it and discuss the best way to do.”

“Don’t take too long, I might get impatient and go on my own anyway,” I warn him, “and if you do take me to visit him, I am to be left alone with him and as for however long I want to visit him.” I state and as he goes to protest, “I know my cousin, doctor, if he is getting tired or upset by my visit or if I think it is too much for him, I will leave. Trust me. I have my cousin’s best interest in mind.”

“OK,” he slowly states before turning around to walk back out into the hall way, closing the door behind him.

*                      *                      *

A small worm of hope and excitement dares slowly to build within me as I allow Jesse to help wheel my wheelchair to Bo’s room with my doctor slowly walking besides us, watching in disapproval. “Here we are, “Jesse says from behind me before he goes silent to walk around to make me look at him, “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean he does look bad, sounds worse, and he obviously wanted little to nothing to do with me.”

I slowly nod. “I’m sure he has his reasons behind not wanting to talk to you. He probably felt guilty about you identifying him at Rhuebottom’s,” shock enters his face at me mentioning the robbery of which he had helped identify Bo as the shooter. Shock to hear that I know about it and yet didn’t say anything to him about it, “and yeah, I want to do this. I have to do this…I have to see with my own eyes that he’s alive. And maybe,” I slowly pause to take in my uncle and the thick worry that shines in his tired e yes, “maybe if he sees me for himself that I’m alive, maybe he’ll calm down enough to talk to you. To the FBI. Maybe he’ll calm enough to realize to see that it’s over, that everything will be OK.”

“I hope so,” Jesse slowly states as he slowly opens the door to Bo’s room for me and thick darkness shines back at us, “Doctor Weaver said he was still sleeping, but said it was OK for you to visit him as long as you will leave if Bo starts to get upset. Though he is hoping that seeing you will help him, pretty much, just like you had said.”

“OK,” I nod at him as I slowly begin to wheel myself into his dark shadowy room before stopping as Jesse silently closes the door behind me. For a moment, I stare silently at the bright green lines on his monitors that beep loudly and un-rhythmically, the lines frantically going up before falling down to a straight line for a short moment before climbing back up. From where I sit several feet away from his bed, his wheezy breathing is loud and slow before he coughs forcefully and falls back to his slow and loud wheezy breathing. Taking a deep breath, I slowly wheel myself further into the room to come to a halt next to the railings of his bed and I can feel my own heart coming to a halt in sadness and fear at seeing how bad he looks. Just as Jesse had warned me, but seems so much worse seeing it for myself. The dark bruises crossing his face and the deep indents thickly circling around his darkly bruised wrists sends chills racing up and down my own bruised body while worry and concern settles in. Worry and concern as I watch his chest slowly moving up before falling silent and still where the bright green line on his monitors go straight. He twitches as a pained look crosses his face while he continues to sleep as his chest slowly and forcefully moves up and then back down again.

“It’s OK, Bo. I’m right here,” I slowly say as I brush his hair out his eyes to find a thick cut crossing his upper right part of his bruised forehead. He whimpers in his sleep as I touch his bangs and I quickly move my hand to watch him fighting to wake up from his own nightmare that I imagine he must be having. Abruptly, he cries out in fear while throwing his arms around as if shoving someone away and as his right arm hits the bar next to him, he cries out in pain. Opening his eyes, he quickly holds his bruised arm next to his chest as tears silently streak his cheeks as he stares blankly at his hand before throwing it back down upon the bed. Watching him for a short moment while listening to him gasping painfully for air, I slowly reach back to grab his emergency inhaler that rests upon his night stand. “Bo,” I slowly say as I place a gentle hand upon his left shoulder and he jumps and eyes me with fear thick in his baby blue eyes. “Here’s your inhaler,” I slowly finish, fighting back my own emotions as surprise and excitement floods his eyes before disbelief distrust shoves the excitement out of his pain filled eyes.

***BO DUKE***

Pain and fear erupts thickly through me as I am harshly thrown awake from another vivid nightmare plagued with the pain and horror I had created upon Luke, of the death I had brought upon him. Guilt once again soars thickly through me as his pain-filled eyes looks back at me as they had in my nightmare, pain-filled dark blue eyes filled with accusatory, hurt emotions, and anger at me for failing him as I had. He had always stood up for me, protected me, and was there for me when I needed him the most, and yet the one time he needed me, I failed him and had let him die. If only I had shot that federal agent. . .

Tears blur my vision as my common sense yells at me from within as my thoughts return to Keith and the federal agent who had just been here before I had been captured by unwanted sleep. Common sense saying I had done the right thing, Luke wouldn’t have wanted me to kill anyone for him, and that even if I had killed the agent, Max would have killed us both sooner or later. Though maybe if I had killed that agent, it would have given us enough time to be saved by the FBI as they had ambushed us at the same time as Max as killing Luke. Once again, guilt drowns me within at my selfishness that I am filled with, with the thought Luke and the agent. At the thought that I would even consider killing another human being for Luke, that I would even think of killing Keith’s dad just so I can have Luke.

“Bo,” a familiar voice softly says my name and I quickly jump in fear as an unknown pressure slightly presses against my shoulder and I quickly glance over to my left to find Luke sitting next to me with my inhaler in his hand. Surprise and excitement heavily fills me at the sight of my cousin sitting next to me, the cousin that I had seen shot to death only hours ago. “Here’s your inhaler,” he finishes as he extends his hand to hand me my inhaler and dread and fear slowly fill me in realization that it can’t be Luke. I had seen him with my own eyes being shot down just before the electricity had been cut, Luke had been shot to death, he couldn’t be sitting next to me. Anger fills my weak and numb body at the thought of someone playing such an awful trick on me as disappoint and regret once again fills me as I feel tears once again swell in my eyes. “C’mon Bo,” he says again, sounding like Luke, “you are going to give yourself another attack if you don’t use your inhaler.”

I reluctantly grab my inhaler away from him while taking in the dark bruises that cover his swollen face and the thick gauze wrapped around his thick dark brown curly hair to send my thoughts back to the tape. Of how badly beaten he had been. If this isn’t Luke, who could it be? Why would anyone dress up to be Luke? I eye him suspiciously as I take a deep breath of medication in before going through the all too familiar steps of my inhaler. “Luke’s dead,” I slowly state as I finish using my inhaler, setting it down on the bed next to me, “I had him killed. . .I saw it myself.”

Luke shakes his head in disagreement as he leans over to turn on the lights to chase the shadows out of the room and for a moment burns my eyes from sitting in the dark for so long.  “I’m not dead, Bo far from it. It’s me, Luke,” he slowly starts, tears glimmer in his own eyes. Tears and emotions that Luke had refused to show anyone in the past, yet here he is with tears and sadness haunting his eyes. “Look, I was told of what you were forced to watch and what you think you saw, but truth is, is that they cut the electricity just as one of the FBI agents had shoved me away from Max’s bullet. Yeah,” he nods slowly before sitting back in his wheelchair that I had only seconds ago had assumed was a hospital chair, “if it weren’t for Agent Russler taking the heroic action that he had, I’d have been shot and most likely killed. But I wasn’t shot and I didn’t get killed. I’m sitting right here.”

I eye him questionably as my mind goes back to being tied in the living room and watching Max circling around Luke before the FBI had entered the shed while Max went to shoot Luke. “And you didn’t get me killed. . .even if I had been killed, Bo,” Luke breaks the silence, “it was all Max. Not you. You did the right thing by not shooting that agent. I’m proud of you.”

I continue to eye him in disbelief, not wanting to believe that Luke is sitting next to me alive, too afraid of it being another dream to only awaken to find that Luke had really been killed. “Why?” I hesitantly ask as seeing Jesse at Rhuebottom’s with a gun in my hand once again enters my head. Of the surprise and disapproval that had entered his eyes at recognizing me behind the mask. “I almost had you killed. Among other things.”

“Why?” he asks, surprise thick in the one small word, “Because what you did was the right thing to do, a very brave thing to do.” He pauses for a long moment as I fight with my emotions that tug harshly within me. “I can’t imagine what they did to you, how you must have felt. From the first robbery to missing that agent on purpose, it all was very brave. Then all they had forced you to watch of what they had done to me and sticking up for that boy. . .I’m very proud of you, lil’ buddy.”

“Luke?” I dare to question and a broad smile spreads across his face as he nods and he quickly bends down and we gently hug each other in excitement of seeing one another before Luke lets go and I slowly rest back down against my bed and pillow. “I thought,” I pause, continuing to struggle to breathe while fighting back my emotions, “they killed you.”

“I know,” he slowly whispers as a look of sadness crosses his face while he pats me gently on the shoulder, “but they didn’t. And you know what?”

I painfully shake my head no at him before saying, “No. What?”

“Max and his gang are either arrested and in jail or dead, meaning this whole nightmare is over. For Hazzard, for Cooter, and for us. It’s all over and after awhile, things will return to normal as we all had known it before the attack on Cooter. Life will resume as it had before this nightmare had started. We just need to give us time to heal and get over all that we saw and went through,” he pauses for a long moment, his attention goes to my window at the bright sun that now has made it’s way to my window. Looking back at me he says, “Look Bo, I know this all is probably hard for you digest and to be able to tell and explain to such strangers as the FBI who come in demanding answers and handing out threats of pressing charges and so on. But if you want to help them put the real bad guys in jail, you need to talk to them, tell them everything.”

I eye him momentarily, my mind returning to the two agents’ second visit after I had awaken from falling asleep throughout my breathing treatment, of how different they had seemed from their first visit. Their hostility and anger they had possessed upon the first visit had vanished into patience and understanding as they began asking questions, repeating them with urgency when I had refused to answer. After the first few answers, no longer feeling defensive towards them, I had told them the story of all that I had seen, heard, and had done from first being kidnaped to where they had found me with only a few questions in between and a few more after I had finished. They had then thanked me for my help with Keith and for my cooperation before leaving, saying they were finished for now, but may have more questions as their investigation went on.

“Again?” I ask, his suggestion instilling fear and dread at the thought of having to explain it to them again, even if they were understanding and patient. “Why?”

Luke eyes me for a long moment before taking a deep breath and he is thrown into a harsh fit of coughing before he stops and sits up in his chair, his eyes returning to me, a look of sympathy.  “Damn,” he finally says, “I only had scratched my lung with a broken rib, but if this is how you feel with each breath you take with your asthma, I feel even worse for you than what I had before.”

“Don’t,” I force a small smile, “feeling bad for me won’t make it any better.”

He nods before he grows serious. “The FBI,” he returns to what he was talking about before, “what you mean, again? Demanding them to arrest you for robbing the banks, Rhuebottom’s, the weaponry story, and for having me killed doesn’t really tell them the full story. In fact,” he pauses for a long moment, “if they went by your so called confession, you could be spending the next sixty years behind bars at the Georgia State Pen for shooting at a federal agent and for everything else you had confessed to. That sound like fun to you?”

“Not exactly,” I sigh painfully as I avert my attention away from him, my thoughts falling back to the two weeks I had spent there when we had been caught running shine to send chills racing across my body.

“Lucky for you they are thorough and investigate everything and everyone to know the basic truth behind it all,” Luke slowly says, “but I’m sure they would do a lot better with your story to fill in the blanks and to get the better picture of all that you went through. Of what they did to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” I slowly look back at Luke who silently sits in his wheelchair watching me, “but I already told them everything.” A questioning look crosses his face as he leans forward in the chair. “Perhaps an hour ago or so. They came back to talk to me since they had been asked to leave by Doctor Weaver on their first visit when I had told them my so-called confession that you are talking about.”

“Well then, never mind. They must have returned to you after they had talked to me and got my story,” he slowly smiles as he goes silent and for a long awkward moment, silence thickly lingers in the room before he places his hand back upon my shoulder and says, “One more question. I promise, that’ll be it.” He pauses as he bites onto his lower cheek, “Why you yell at Jesse and kick him out of your room? Why won’t you talk to him?”

I quickly look up at him as I feel my heart racing painfully within me as the pressure instantly returns to my chest to make it difficult to breathe while my thoughts turn to Jesse. From the look of horror and surprise struck across his face at seeing me in the mask at Rhuebottom’s to the soft and caring look he had lent me a few hours ago when I had first awaken.  Of the guilt and shame that had ran thickly through me for what I had done by just the sight of my uncle standing there, of the thought of how angry and disappointed he must be in me for what I had done.  “That’s two questions,” I slowly speak up to send a small smile on Luke’s face as he slowly nods while awaiting for my answer to his questions. “I didn’t want him there because of what I had done. To you and the people I robbed,” I slowly confess, “I don’t deserve him to be here with me or for him to care about me.” I quickly look away in attempt to hide my emotions from Luke, too afraid to see what his reactions may be to what I had just said.

“Look at me Bo,” he slowly states and goes quiet for a long moment before I reluctantly do as I am told to do, “If that’s not what you deserve, then what is? You think he should be upset at you, to hate you for going through what you did? He knows you, Bo, he understands that there had to be something making you do what you did.”

‘I believe in you, Bo,’ Jesse’s soft voice whispers in my head of what he had said after realizing why I had told him I didn’t deserve his care, why I had said it would have been best for everyone if I had died.  His crystal blue eyes shine back at me filled with fear, sadness, and worry as he had looked at me as I had yelled at him to go until I had thrown myself into an attack and alerting Doctor Weaver.

“It don’t matter why I did what I did,” I silently respond, “but what I did was wrong, damaging to others. That gun he was going to shoot you with was a gun that I stole, the gun that had killed an agent at least if not more. I may not have been the one to pull the trigger, but I supplied him with it. Plus,” I go silent as I stare back at the window, wishing to disappear once again, “all those people I had robbed. Innocent people who already are having a difficult time making ends meet and putting food on the table for them and their families. What they going to do now that I robbed them of the little money they had left? No, I don’t deserve y’all to be here with me,” I look back at him with tears in my eyes, “I deserve to go to jail and suffer for what I did.”

“No, you don’t, Bo. Don’t say that. . .You did what you thought you needed to do in order to protect me and yeah, it may be wrong, but you did it for a reason. You did it for me,” Luke responds, tears in his own eyes, “and I think the FBI, the people you robbed, and especially Jesse, Daisy, and I understand that. I am very proud of you for the bravery and courage you upheld in order to keep me alive and even more so for sticking up for what you believe in by not killing Agent Mueller. I know that must have been one of the hardest choices you were faced with, but you made the right choice.

“As for the guns Max and his men used,” Luke continues, “even if you did supply them with those from the weaponry store, you had nothing to do with them killing anyone with them. They would have had guns of their own to shoot me or those agents with, if not, they would have went out and got the guns themselves.” Luke goes silent once again as he leans against the railing of my bed before he slowly continues, “You understand what I am saying, Bo? You didn’t do that on your own freewill. You were forced to do all that…that don’t make you guilty or deserving of jail time. With that said,” he sits up, “we all care about you no matter what whether you like that or not. You could probably burn the house down with one of your explosive arrows that’s suppose to be a dud and Jesse would still love and care for you.”

I feel a small smile cross my face at his reference of last year when I had accidently blown the outhouse up with a live explosive instead of the dud I had thought put on it.  “OK,” I slowly reside, “your point taken.”

“I thought that might get the point across,” he smiles at me as he gently ruffles up my hair, “now I have to go back my room. My doctor only gave me a few minutes to talk to you and I am sure my few minutes are long up, but Jesse is sitting out there in the waiting room really wanting to talk to you. He’s been there since two thirty this morning since he got word of us being here and I’ve got the feeling that he’s not about to leave until he gets to talk to you more than the two minutes you had allowed in before. So,” he pauses to adjust his wheelchair, “you gave the FBI a second chance, how about giving Jesse another chance? I’m sure Jesse will be a whole lot friendlier than Sergeant Mills and Agent Mueller would ever ben and we all know this is killing you just as much as it him not allowing him in.”

I reluctantly nod. “OK, but,” I pause for a long moment, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know, but I’m right down the hall a couple doors down,” he smiles as he bends over to give me another hug, “and it won’t be long until we can go home and you’ll get tired of me, so enjoy the peace without me. I’m just so glad to see that you’re still alive after thinking you were dead for so long,” he goes silent for a long moment, lost in thought before he continues, “Anyway, you rest and get feeling better. That’s an order, OK?”

“Yes sir,” I slowly reply as I watch him slowly wheeling himself to the door where he turns himself around to eye me for a long moment before waving and then opening the door to go back into the hall way. Closing the door behind him, I am left alone once again as he returns to his room and perhaps talking to Jesse about what I had confessed to him about how I felt, of how he will react. Taking a deep breath, I slowly allow exhaustion to fall upon me that I had fought back while Luke had been here, too excited to go to sleep, too afraid that once I’d fall asleep, I’d wake up to find him gone. Darkness surrounds me as I fall deeply into sleep, my dreams plagued by watching Luke getting shot to better days of driving The General with Luke besides me in the passenger seat. Perhaps of the days that rests ahead of us now that we are free from the evil grasps of Max and his gang.