by: Kristy Duke

Sweat races down my clammy face as I sit silently at my desk looking down at the local newspaper today. Not sweat of heat, but of nerves of what is to come, of the near future. I sigh wearily at the sight of the FBI on the front cover as I read thoroughly over it before I place it back on my desk in disgust. Like publicity will help matters, but make them worse and with Hogg’s appointment with Drake in mere minutes, I might as well as be signing my will.

“Sheriff,” my loyal deputy rings out from his desk to make me jump a foot in my chair.

“Ding dang it Enos!” I yell out trying to cover up my embarrassment of my surprise, “Don’t you ever warn people before doing stuff?”

“Sorry sir,” Enos sighs, “I was just wonderin’ if you are OK? I mean you have been out more th an in lately and now you look way out of it…almost as if you are very scared of something. Perhaps I could help you?”

“There is nothing that can help me now…might as well as count me as dead,” I sigh throwing the paper at him that admits I have been working with the FBI, ” a whole fleet of army couldn’t save the mess I got myself into. . .I just, well I just had to do the right thing.”

“I knew you were a good guy Sheriff,” the humble deputy says smiling up at me before fear streaks his face as he suddenly realizes what this means.

“Yeah perhaps a little too late though. Drake is on his way here and Hogg ain’t lettin’ me go no where,” I sigh thinking of ways to escape, “Drake ain’t gonna forgive me, but make me pay one way or the other. Just like he did Jesse.”

“Jesse?” his voice squeaks.

“Yeah Jesse Duke. A week before his death he had called me, saying how he saw Drake himself kill a man in cold flesh; one of his own men…then beat a child afterwards,” I pause as guilt rushes through me, “he called and told me the truth, I knew it was the truth, and I did nothing. You know why I did nothing? Because I was chicken! Too loyal to Hogg and chicken of his partner. And because I was chicken Jesse was killed and perhaps now Bo…though killing Jesse was killing apart of Bo. He hasn’t even started to recover and it’s been a year…he may never recover but live in mourning and sorrow if he makes it through this. Just because of me!”

“Yeah, but what counts sheriff, is that you are now doing the right thing,” he sighs stepping up to me to hand me the paper.

“Well it won’t matter much now,” I grunt, “Drake don’t want no witnesses and that is why all this has gone on…hey one good thing may come about this.”

He looks at me questionably before saying, “What’s that?”
“Hazzard may actually be appointed with a loyal and trust worthy sheriff….you,” I say.

“Me?” he squeaks, “No not me, I could never be sheriff of this town or any town. Think positive Sheriff, Frank and his men are searching and working hard to get this man.”

“Not fast enough,” I sigh and with that the front door to the sheriff station is thrown open and Drake in tight dark blue jeans, black leather cowboy boots, a tight blue flannel shirt and a white cowboy hat walks in. His jet black hair hangs slightly noticeably under his hat, chills of fear races up and down my back as he glares at me with his dark evil eyes. “Rosco!” he snaps signaling me to follow.

I sigh silently as I get praying to myself that this will go by quickly and painless. Slowly I follow him into Hogg’s smokey office where we both take a seat across from Hogg’s desk where he sits behind. “Look Drake,” Hogg starts off, “we all know why you are here,” Hogg glares angrily at me with his dark brown eyes, “but I had nothing to do with this dim-witted sheriff of my talking to the FBI. Really I didn’t, you have to believe -”

“I don’t have to believe anything!” he snaps at us and we both jump at his harsh tone of voice, “We had an agreement Hogg…no officials no FBI and no cops other than your hick sheriff! and now…now the FBI is searching everywhere. For what? For me. Why? Because dumbo over there ratted us out!”

“Well if you hadn’t killed Jesse Duke they wouldn’t be here now would they?” I ask sarcastically no longer able to stop myself, “Nor if you hadn’t kidnaped Bo Duke they wouldn’t’ have to be here! Let him go Drake…alive and well. I will tell them to go, but not until then!”

“That’ll never happen!” he yells jumping to his feet. I gasp as he clenches tightly onto my uniform shirt and I yell out in pain as he thrashes me into the wall, “he knows way too much to be sent free and now so do you. I trusted you and now…well you both are gonna say good-bye!”

“No wait!” Hogg yells jumping to his feet, “I had no plan in this or with the FBI…it was him!” Hogg goes silent for a moment in thought, “You killed Jesse didn’t you? Rosco was right?”

“Of course I did,” he smiles, “Nice and easy…soon it’ll be Bo! I’ll make sure to send pictures along this time.”

“You jackass! I tol’ you no one gets hurt or killed for that matter!” Hogg yells momentarily forgetting who Drake is for Drake to pull out a large black hand held gun to aim it at him and then at me. “Wait, can’t we work on something? Don’t kill me…or Rosco! He may be dim-witted at times, but he’s the best I got!”

“Too late for that Hogg, you both double crossed me and thanks to you him the FBI are all over the place, looking for me!” he yells back handing me across the face with the butt of the gun before shoving it harshly against the side of my head and I wince in pain and fear, “Say good bye to your buddy Rosco here, Hogg!”

Drake laughs as my heart races wildly within me at the thought of the next second may hold. “Drake, please don’t do this,” Hogg pleas him, “I’ll pay you, you name the price…just don’t kill me or him.”

“Why do that?” Drake laughs, “When I can kill you both and then take the money….well I’ll have to finish the deputy out there as well, but it all works out. Y’all are dead and I get the money. Say good bye Rosco!”

I fight back tears of pain and great fear as I shove my eyes tightly close as if it would protect me from anything. Gulping I slightly feel his finger move upon the trigger just as I hear the door besides me being thrown open. Forcing my eyes open I sigh in relief to see Luke Duke and Cooter standing there with Frank Mills and a couple of his men.

I fight to squirm as his finger inches closer to squeezing it before Luke tackles him roughly to the ground for the bullet to fly off the roof, throwing plaster around the floor. For a while, I numbly watch Luke beat Drake continuously, showing the anger that he has trapped within for several months due to the loss of his uncle and now perhaps Bo. “Where’s Bo?” Luke finally asks letting go of him while holding him on the floor with his weight.

“Dead…you’ll never find him,” he laughs as blood spills out of his mouth, “you shoulda been there Luke, you would have loved to see how we slowly tortured him to death…beat him to death really, with all sort of things. Shoulda seen all the blood he lost and the pain in his eyes as he yelled his last yell and breathed his last breathe. We should have video taped it so you could have seen it over and over, as much as you wish.”

With that Luke angrily punches him over and over with great force as tears roll freely down his cheeks while Cooter stands above watching with Frank and his two men. “OK Luke,” Frank finally says bending down to grab Drake, “That’s enough, we got him.”

With that Cooter forces Luke off of Drake while Frank forces Drake to his feet. I gasp out in surprise as Drake elbows Frank in the chest before punching him to the ground and sending a couple of kicks to the two men. “Rosco! Get him!” Hogg yells, his eyes still full of rage toward either me or Drake.

Fear continues to grab a hold of me as I begin to go after him only for him to grab his gun and aim it at me. “I wouldn’t think of doing anything, sheriff,” he grins before running out of the room where he shoves Enos down on his way to the door.

“Dan and Eric, I want you to chase him as far as you can get,” Frank orders, “I will ride with Luke and Cooter. Rosco, you stay in town and keep us posted.”

“On what?” I ask as the two of his men disappear.

“On anything that goes down, ” Frank says in a rush, “If we find his hide out and need you, we will call you.”

“Ten four,” I say reluctantly as Luke pats me on the back before they leave as well to leave me a lone with Hogg.
“I should have listened,” Hogg finally says to break the silence, “I shoulda knew it was him…who else woulda done that? I kept telling myself perhaps it was one of his men that did it, against his orders. I fooled myself into believing Drake and for what? Money and greed. Now Hazzard is in danger, Jesse dead and perhaps Bo. Oh Rosco, what have I done?”

“You played with fire and you got burned,” I respond, “everyone got burned. Next time you will learn…if there is a next time.”

He glares at me before sitting back down in his swivel chair while grabbing a cigar to light. “Everyone burned due to me? I can’t believe he is capable of…yes I can believe he is capable, I just didn’t want to believe he was. I mean, he had good money and good business -”

“Greedy and illegal business may I add,” he glares at me angrily.

“Did I ask for your opinion? If you hadn’t gone to the FBI behind my back, we wouldn’t -”

“You wouldn’t go in with me and you know it Hogg,” I respond, “so don’t be giving me that it is my fault for the article! I had to do the right thing and the right thing for the county was to go for help before any more harm was done!”

“I just didn’t want to believe who he was…how wrong could I be?” he asks himself out loud, “Damn it.”

~LUKE DUKE~

Slowly I throw the old muscle car into park within three large bushes that rest several feet from the green swamp. My stomach seems to do a long series of flips within me at the retched smell of the swamp floats in through the open windows. For a long moment Cooter and I sit silently in our seats as thoughts of my cousin play clearly in my head, of creating the General Lee together, to working on our car together, to all the races we have entered and raced within the General. Tears swell in my eyes at the thought of my cousin as the thought of losing him tears through my memories to pierce my heart.

“You ready?” I jump in surprise as Frank Mills shows up at my window with a few of his men.

“Yes sir,” I sigh pulling myself out through the door and am soon followed by Cooter who glares questionably at me, “What we do now?”

“We split up into teams and search,” Frank orders, “and whenever anyone finds something, we call on our walkie talkies. Understand? Anything and everything gets reported.”

“Yes sir,” says his men who are bustled around us and I look around the large group of men to count at least fifteen men if not more.

“Good,” Frank sighs looking around, “I will go with Luke and Cooter…Agent Jonathen Loaks, Agent Keifer Klerks, and Agent Donnell Zarlen, I want you three to come with us. The rest of you group I want you to group in with three men to group to go separate ways.”
“Yes sir,” they say once again and I sigh as I see a tall thin man with his light brownish blond hair cut in a crew cut and hard green eyes walk up to us with a man a couple inches shorter and more muscular with a darker shade of brown that is neatly cut walks up to us, his dark blue eyes are cold and fierce. Glancing around I watch the men gather in groups as a broad shoulder tall and muscular African American reaches us, his wispy black hair cut short and in a crew cut and his dark brownish black eyes are just as hard and cold as the other two.

“Agent Keifer Klerks,” says the muscular man with the thinly cut light brown hair and hard piercing blue eyes, “this is my partner Agent Jonathen Loaks,” he says pointing to the taller of the three before pointing to the broad and muscular agent, “and this is Agent Donnell Zarlen.”

After shaking hands Frank says, “OK we all set…don’t do nothing heroic, stupid, or foolish! Call if anything comes up.”

Slowly we all head into different directions of the swamp land, the swampy mud splashes disgustingly over our boots. A few moments pass of silence as my thoughts run wildly of all that they could be doing to Bo right now and as each horrible thought races through my head, my heart tightens worse in grief and in anger towards the men that has him. Anger soars with my grief, anger that I have never known before, anger so deep that it makes me anxious to find them, to attack them, to make them pay for even touching my cousin.

“Stop,” Frank mumbles in a harsh whisper that seems to echo through the silence that has grown between us. Stopping I force myself to glance up from glaring at the mud to find an old dirty cabin with a large relaxing front porch that holds a scarred swing bench on it. My heart races within me as I spot a dirty cabin with a large wooden porch with a scarred swing bench only a few feet ahead of us. Besides me I hear Keifer shift his weight as two tall men walk out of the flimsy door and walk to the wooden railing where the two men pull cigarettes from their pockets and begin to light them.

“Raze,” the tall dark brown haired man says rubbing his dark goatee, though he holds the height he seems too thin to possess any threat; though doubt that is the case.

“What is it, Bren?” the taller one of the two who holds tattoos up and down his bare arms snaps back at him as he lets out a cloud of thick smoke. Raze is tall and muscular with an old crew cut of blondish brown hair and a thin beard and mustache.

“When will this all end? I mean the killing, the beatings?” Bren finally says looking off into the distance, “I don’t mind beatin’ the blond, he’s fun to torture…but the old man? That’s like beatin’ my old man! The blond kid, yeah that’s fun…but I can’t do the old man. Drake said only a couple of months …three at the most; it’s been over a year now and now he’s got the blond. Where does it end? I tol’ Tisha I’d be home by now…”

“Relax Bren, you are way too tense,” Raze smiles evilly flicking some ashes off his cigarette, “you need to relax and have some fun…go beat Bo good, torture him some, have some fun for yourself. Drake knows what he’s doin’…he’s takin’ this whole town just like takin’ candy from a baby. Before we know it we’ll have this town all to ourselves, the people too scared to stand up to us and we can get away with everything!”
“You’re right,” the younger one, Bren finally says, “I just got to worryin’ last night about the FBI and all, I ain’t gonna go down for Drake; he wouldn’t go down for us and you know that Raze…everything is all about himself.”

“We’re not going down, no one is,” Raze says, “Drake says a day or so for the old man to really die and then a week tops for Bo before we slowly torture him to death…placing his body right at the Duke farm…make sure everyone sees his bloody body; then it all begins to unravel.”

We watch for a moment as they go silent and Frank steps back and sends a call to the rest to where the hide out is. “Damn it,” Frank mumbles under his breath as he steps up next to me, stepping on a large twig that makes a large snap, echoing off the swamp walls.

“What was that?” Bren asks throwing his cigarette out glaring around.

“Damn it!” Raze says throwing his out, pointing right us…we’ve been seen! “Drake, get everyone out here! They found us!”
~BO DUKE~

“How you feelin’ Bo?” Jesse finally asks to break the silence as he sits besides me upon the old torn cot, the young child, five or so old sits on Jesse’s lap. I sigh warily at seeing another child sitting on my Uncle’s lap, someone that isn’t even related and I fight the urge to yell at him to get off his lap.

Tensilely I shrug my aching shoulders at him as I sit up to force the room to swirl quickly around me in fast circles in a state of dizziness. Pain flashes through my back, chest and my broken arm as well as through my legs. My whole body aches in great pain I have never known before from the beating I had endured before I blacked out from their harsh beating with fists and boards; of which I just awaken from. My lungs still flame with harsh pain as I fight for air as I fight to clear my blurred vision.

“Tell me how you feel,” Uncle Jesse says in a half order and I sigh tiredly as I look up at him to find a fresh cut upon his right cheek with dried speckles of blood in his beard. A dark bruise starting to shape around it.

“It’s not like you could do anything to help,” I snap at him in my own anger towards Drake and his men. Who could ever hit or say anything harsh to Uncle Jesse? If only Luke was here, he’d stop him…but what if he’s dead? Fresh tears sting my eyes as I think of Luke lying in my arms, blood squirting out in a flood from where he had been shot; his clear intelligently blue eyes filled with pain and fear that I have never seen in them.

“I wish I could,” he sighs as he throws a caring arm around me and I tense up in pain as I force myself to glance down at my broken arm, the cast holding a thick tear through it. “Let me have a look-see,” he finally says and I turn my back against him for him to raise my torn weak blue t-shirt. After a short second of silence I hear him grunt in anger at seeing my back where he had beat me at for a while. “We’ll get out here, Bo, then you get some real care.”

“I don’t care,” I grunt knowing he was trying to comfort me.

“You don’t care?” he asks, his eyes mixed with anger and pain.

“Not if Luke’s dead,” I say half way to myself and am shocked to hear myself say it out loud.

“You don’t know that…he’s tough,” he says with a half smile.

Once again I shrug my aching shoulders as I fight back the tears that threaten to come. “It’s OK to cry,” Bryceton finally speaks up for the first time since the day I came here, “he makes me cry too…you hurt.”

I look at him for a long moment, his light greenish brown eyes looks at me with care and the innocence of a child. Silence begins to grow between us as the hard metal chair squeaks as Drake’s guard moves in his chair as he watches us. Slowly I bring my pained legs in and hug them close to my bruised chest to hide my face into my knees as tears break loose. Emotions of anger, fear, and pain swirls quickly through me to force my heart to swell up with my tears.

I gasp in surprise as the large door is abruptly thrown open and I quickly look up with tears running off my cold face to find Drake himself rushing in towards me. I cry out in pain and fear as he grabs me harshly by the back of my neck to force me on my feet and as I am dragged out the door I vaguely hear Uncle Jesse yell something at him. “I shoulda killed you both the day we got you, none of this would have happened!” Drake yells under his breath as several of his men loads large guns in the living room slash kitchen area of the cabin, “Thanks to you we’ll have to FBI agents and the whole works…if you only have kept your large mouth shut, we’d all be happy!”

I bite my lip in my attempt to cry out in pain as his tight grip tightens to make breathing an even harder task. “We’re loaded boss, what now?” asks Brenden as he approaches with Raze, the two guys I first encountered.

“Tell the others to surround the place, no one leaves this place alive,” Drake threatens, “then you two come join the fun with me on the porch.”

“Yes sir,” they say heading off in different directions to do as they are told to do.

Drake cusses violently under his breath as he throws open the front door and the bright haze of dreary gray sky hurts my blurred eyes from being locked in the dark room for so long. After a long moment they slowly adjust and I fight off tears as I force myself to look around as I hear a familiar voice calls out in fear, “Bo!”

My heart races in half excitement, relief, pain, and fear at the sight of Luke standing alive with Cooter along with three large men who holds guns out at us. “Yeah…I’m glad you recognize him now Luke,” Drake calls out to them as he draws his black hand gun and I yell out in pain as he slams the butt of the gun upon my right cheek before shoving it into my temple, “because if y’all don’t drop your guns, I’ll pull the trigger and we all know that wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Drop your guns!”

I watch as Luke orders them to do as they are told frantically as the other two joins us on the porch. “What you want Drake?” Luke calls out.

“There ain’t nothin’ for you to do now that I could possibly want…I got y’all surrounded…and none of you are getting out of here alive,” he smiles evilly at us, “and then, we’ll have the town all to ourselves.”

“Drake!” calls the one man I recognize from the hospital, Frank Mills, “Can’t we talk this over? Release the kid why don’t you…Bo didn’t do nothing to you!”

Drake laughs evilly before whispering something to Brendon’s ear and he disappears into the cabin. “You want the kid don’t you?” he laughs once again as Brendon returns with Bryceton and everyone yells out with surprise and anger. “Bryce, you go join those men.”

Bryceton looks up at me for guidance with his soft green eyes that shows anger, fear, and pain. “Go, they’ll help you,” I answer trying to be strong for him.

“They can try, but they will fail,” Drake says as we watch Bryceton walk to Frank and Cooter. Frank talks to Cooter who slowly picks up the kid and points to me as Cooter attempts to walk, “He moves anywhere and y’all are dead.” Cooter stands instantly still with the kid.

~LUKE DUKE~

“He moves and y’all will die,” Drake threatens as his large evil hands tightly hold upon the bruised and torn Bo, his gun digging deeply into Bo’s already black and blue right temple. Cooter glances at me to Frank before standing still next to us, the tan child with the light brown hair rest still in Cooter’s uncomfortable hold on him until Cooter slowly lets go of him.

Anger, hatred, and frustration fills within me, anger toward Drake and his men for even lying a finger upon Bo, hatred at them for seeing the harm they already done to him, and frustration of being unable to do anything to help. My first reaction was to run after him with some hope of attacking Drake, but Cooter’s words echo through my head of me being dead won’t help him any. From here I can see Bo’s apparent harsh struggle for air as he glares at me for help, his bright blue eyes shine of pain and fear. Slowly my attention on Bo is drawn as Cooter kneels besides the frightened boy who shakes uncontrollably in fear, fear that is apparent is all he knows. “What’s your name?” Cooter asks caringly.

“Bryceton Shelbon,” he answers with uncertainty upon his small voice as his light green eyes glances around in fear as if trying to find comfort where there lies no comfort, “I’m five years old and Drake is my unbearable evil person everyone would say is my dad. He hurt Bo…bad.”

Tears glimmer in Cooters light brown eyes at hearing the truth come out of the young child’s mouth. “It looks like it,” Cooter finally says, “but I’m sure the FBI will try their best to stop Drake…I’m Cooter Davenport by the way and the unsociable dark brown haired guy there is Luke Duke, Bo’s cousin…protective cousin I should add.”

“Hi,” I fight a smile for his benefit and he only glares up questionable at me as if fighting if he should say something or not.

I glance up as Keifer whispers something to Frank and slowly slips behind us. “He’s gonna try to join the men in the back,” Frank whispers glaring at Bo who slowly begins to fight in pain only for Drake to back hand him across the face with the butt of the gun again, “we are trying to sneak up on them from the back.”

“Better not get him killed or -”

“Or what? We have to try somethin’…it is try it and perhaps die trying, or die doing nothing!” Frank snaps at me, “If you haven’t noticed, they ain’t’ about to let us go out of here alive, the kid, you, Cooter to Bo himself. You pick!”

“Awright,” I finally answer as my mind switches from Bo to Jesse for some reason, fighting for his wisdom that he held so powerfully, wishing I knew what he would do in something like this.

“Drake,” Frank picks up the enemies’ attention, “let’s work out a deal…your freedom for Bo.”

“Don’t matter,” he laughs hysterically, “you’ll never arrest us no matter…so either way I’ll have my freedom. My choice, I’d rather go down fighting and have my freedom! Bo and y’all are better off dead!”

My heart races in my hatred and anger at the man that lies a hold of Bo as my mind swirls quickly as a whirlwind within me, desperately fighting for answers on how to stop someone as evil and wicked as Drake is.

I yelp out in shock at the familiar sound of gun fire not too far off in the distance, the strong smell of gun powder sends my mind racing in flashbacks of all the years I spent in war. Slowly realization hits me that the gun fire is at the back of the cabin where a group of Frank’s men were suppose to sit and wait command. “Damn,” Frank cusses under his breath and in his creamy blue eyes I see him as well desperately fighting for answers.

Drake’s two men quickly move off of the wooden porch where they had been perched until Drake had given them farther notice. “Time for y’all to visit y’all’s makers and to be judged!” Drake laughs once again forcing more pressure upon Bo who slowly begins to whimper either out of pain or fear or perhaps both.

“Get ready to fire,” Frank says, his thick voice coated in fear as they all draw guns upon the two men that hold bigger and stronger guns, “Cooter and Luke, stay back with the kid.”

I go to argue only for Donnell to shove us both back until he is shot in the back right under his left shoulder. His yell is etched with harsh pain as he goes to his knees, his dark eyes glare at me, demanding me to help his pain to go away. Flash backs of seeing my own men, my friends die in gun fire at war flash inside of me, my war instinct that I thought I left at war, seems to return to me. Slowly I help him down, to sit him against the tree and press my clean handkerchief tightly upon his gun wound as I listen to his painful raspy breathing. “Stay awake Donnell, fight against sleep,” I demand in a weak voice as I glance up to find Frank and his men standing continue to fling gun shots at the two standing targets as well as the two men at them, “with pressure to the wound, you should be fine, but you have to fight against sleep…save your strength.”

“You’re the boss,” he smiles weakly at me, “though knowing Drake, none of us will make it out of here alive.”

“Don’t talk like that…the good Lord will help us out of here,” I answer while giving a short silent prayer, “just watch…have faith.”

“If you say so,” he sighs.

“I do,” I begin to say before a long painful screech of a cry lets out and I look up to find the taller of the two body guards going down with a deadly bullet slug ripped through his chest. I sigh sadly at the sight of another dead body of an enemy as more cries let out back and I pray to be able to hug Bo once again…to see him well again and perhaps return to the daily life of farming once again. My mind seems to go numb in fear and regret at the thought of losing Bo, either physically or mentally…knowing if by chance Bo does walk out of here alive, he may be scarred inside as well as outside for life. Followed by the hatredly evil ghosts of Drake and his men, beating into unconciensousness as well as what all they have done to him. “No…no.”

“What?” Donnell finally speaks up from watching the fight.

I glance down at him finally realizing that I had said no out loud instead of to myself as I once thought I was. “Never mind…just rest and save your strength,” I sigh glancing up at Cooter who sits next to Donnell, holding the kid tightly for comfort to the kid who just watches me with alert green eyes.

~UNCLE JESSE~

Anger and frustration boils harshly through me toward Drake and his men for all that he has done to Bryceton and now to Bo. If only I had attempted to make some kind of struggle with them, my boys would have known the truth about the awful man and his evil companions; knowing enough to leave them be. My imagination plays lividly within me of all the possibilities that could be happening outside as the recognizable sounds of gun fire ricochets out side the cabin’s walls. Emotions rage within me like an angry river as pictures and thoughts of them killing Bryce and Bo, or hurting them any worse than what they already done.

“You’ve grown quiet old man,” the large guard smiles at me from his post, knowing he now holds the power over me once again. At least with Bo here, they hadn’t tried anything with me, because each time they tried Bo would attack them full of anger and hatred, not caring if he got hurt or not.

“You will too one day,” I remark, “when you begin to face the consequences of your horrible actions.”
The tall muscular man tenses his sharp muscles up his arm to display an array of artwork winding up and around his upper bare arms. “You only wish old man,” he laughs at me as the door is thrown open and a smaller and older man walks in with his gun drawn.

“C’mon Raymond,” the new intruder says in an order, “we need your help outside…the old man ain’t goin’ no where…the place is surrounded.”

The man the guy called Raymond slowly and stiffly stands up from his post, glaring at me as if to say this isn’t over. I watch with a hint of relief as they slam the door shut behind them and listen to their heavily foot steps tromp out the main area to either the front or the back door, another door slams shuts. My heart races quickly within me as I stare blankly through the dark room that has been my prison for over a year if not more now. Silently I say a long prayer for my safety as well as Bo’s and Bryceton’s safety out of this evil place, only to realize that through time I had given up hope of ever going home.

Abruptly I my prayers are drawn short as a couple more bullets are shot about outside, followed by a few yells of great pain. I sigh in relief at not recognizing any of the cries of pain as being neither of Bryceton or Bo. Listening to the war unfold outside, my mind focuses on Bo, from the day he stumbled here so full of pain and shell shocked with fear of Luke’s death. I sigh with regret and grief at the thought of Luke’s death, I had tried to remain calm and confident of Luke being OK through being shot, but part of me agrees with Bo of Luke being dead. My heart seems to stop at the thought of losing Luke to those evil men, of losing anyone to them. The few days that Bo had been here, the more time went on, the more he seemed sewn shut in the deep, un breakable shell he seemed to have enclosed himself in. Anxiety and fear flows through me with anger at the thought of never seeing Bo come out of the shell he seemed to close himself in, at the thought of life never returning back to normal.

“If only I hadn’t stepped in that day long ago when I had witnessed Drake nearly beat the young child to death, Bryceton, we all wouldn’t be here, awaiting for death to come swallow us whole.” I think silently to send chills racing up and down my back filled with a sense of guilt mixed with the sense of relief at doing what I knew was right.

“Do something old man,” I utter to myself as I begin to feel even more frustrated at being closed in here while the war continues outside. Though instead of moving, I sit silently upon the old torn bed as my thoughts instant turn from the past few days of witnessing my nephew being beat up with anything that Drake thought up of until Bo is slowly swept away in an ocean of unconsciousness to the past. To the past where life was normal, where Luke and Bo working on their old car while I worked in the fields or in the kitchen with Daisy. Or perhaps all the times of helping Bo and Luke escape from the crooked law or sitting in the Boar’s Nest while Daisy takes our orders and Hogg sits off to the right smoking his cigar with Rosco.

Tears sting my eyes at the thought of the simple life I once lived, of the daily routine I once went through without complaint…everything so simple. Now I would do about anything to return to my simple life I once loved, being home with my family, and working on the farm I had inheridited. Though I highly doubt that I will ever again be able to feed my animals or step upon a freshly harvested field or smell one of Daisy’s home made apple pie. Anger piles atop of anger toward Drake for taking me away from my family, from the life I loved to be imprison in this dark dreadful place where all the hope I once had slowly leaked away from me with each slap I receive and with watching Bryceton and now Bo being tortured and beaten. “Strengthen up old man,” I say to myself once again, “these tears won’t get you no where.”

Once again my thoughts and visions are sent to an abrupt halt as loud shrieking cry of harsh pain and pure fear cuts through the spitting gun fire that continues to fire outside the wooden walls that entrap me. My heart comes to a quick painful stop at hearing Bo cry out so loud, his cry is filled with heart rippling pain. Chills race up and down my body as Bo becomes silent, but his piercing scream of pain and fear continues to echo in my head and in my heart. Fear increases within me as my imaginations runs wild of all that they are doing to him outside…of Bo falling slowly to the ground due to a deadly bullet or worse!

Thinking of worse I rush to my feet to send an uncomfortable sting through my feet, ignoring the sting I rush to the wooden door and am surprised as I push it open. Glaring through the neatly laid living room and dinning room that they also made all their bed rooms, I crouch down glancing through the windows. My heart races quickly of fear within me as my mind fumbles with answers of what to do while tears of grief sting my eyes, grief of the pain that Bo has taken in. Glancing to the front door I see Drake’s expensive Stetson standing tall and proud and sigh in acknowledgment that Bo would be with him.

Slowly I move to the wooden door while a stray bullet shatters through the small window next to me to send me to a dead halt. Gaining back the little strength that I hold I tightly holding onto the cold metal. door handle and shove it open, knowing that there is no better time like the present. I gasp in surprise as I see Luke and Cooter standing in the trees behind several FBI men who look serious and mean before I look to my left to see Drake smiling evilly as he holds tightly a hold of Bo. My heart tightens painfully as he seems more bruised and cut than when he was dragged out here as well as seeing Bo’s right arm free of his cast to display the dark black bruise that his arm swells in with several large cuts, from here I can tell the extent of the shattered bone that lies within the skin.

Noticing Drake’s attention a hold on the FBI, I sigh knowing that this is the only chance I have at attacking Drake, and perhaps the only chance at saving Bo. I sigh as I fight for courage to face such an evil man that holds such deadly consequence. Quickly I charge at him, he grunts with an angry hateful surprise as I tackle him to the ground to force him to let go of Bo who is painfully pushed into the hard wooden railing before falling down the five large wooden steps.

~LUKE DUKE~
“Damn,” I utter silently to myself as I am filled with guilt as I watch Bo being held at gun point up on the high wooden porch of the cabin. His baby blue eyes are filled with great pain as tears swell within them to make clear paths of tears down his bruised and cut up face.

“You can say that again,” Donnell says silently besides me as explosion of gun fire lets loose in the back of the cabin, “Drake won’t let us out alive…we’re all dead by morning…or perhaps an hour or so.”
“Think positive,” I argue as I glance ahead as Frank lets off a round of gun fire on several of Drake’s men and I sigh in a bit of relief as a couple of them let out yells of pain as bullets make deadly entries within their chests. “Two down.”

“Think positive,” Donnell mocks with a roll of his dark brown, almost black eyes, “I started out this profession thinkin’ positive, but throughout the years I have found that things seldom turn out for the positive.”

I sigh standing up from kneeling down besides the injured agent and watch him warily as he holds the blood stained handkerchief to his wound. My heart races within me in fear, anger, and frustration of helplessness as I force my way up to where Frank stands with a few more agents to receive a hateful glare from Frank’s hard clear blue eyes. “Stay back Duke, or you are liable to receive one of their slugs,” he threatens harshly.

“Wouldn’t be the first,” I answer and he glares angrily at me for arguing with him, “be angry all you want, but I refuse to stand back there helplessly watching him torture Bo! I came here to help him…even called you to help out…not for you to shove me back to watch! Damn it Frank…he’s my cousin, my best friend! I am not about to do NOTHING to help him…this should be MY fight, not yours. To you, Bo is just another victim, but to me he is MY cousin and MY best friend!”

He glares coldly at me and is clear that he is fighting whether to argue with me more or not, but instead says, “Fine, but if you get shot standing there, don’t come cryin’ to me!”

“Wouldn’t go cryin’ to you anyways,” I grunt out, “tell me what needs to be done, I’ll do it.”

“Benton,” Frank snaps and an young skinny agent around my height with light brown skin turns from his stance, “hand him a gun.” Frank watches as the young agent hands me a well known gun before saying, “fight.”

Once again silence splits between us as the metal hand gun sits coldly in my head as flash backs of war flashes in my eyes. Fear and regret flows within me at the thought of having to shoot at another person…perhaps killing another person.

Quickly, my thoughts are interrupted as Bo yells shriekingly out in harsh pain and great fear and I look up in time to see Drake thrashing Bo’s shattered right arm harshly into the wooden pole until the plastered cast falls upon the wooden porch to leave Bo’s shattered arm is revealed. My stomach churns as the sight of Bo’s black bruised arm that holds a few cuts, but from here lies clearly shattered bone. Tears streak Bo’s bruised face clearly now as he fights back yelling out in pain as Drake hits it a couple more times against the pole.

Emotions swirl wildly within me as the gun lies heavy in my right hand as I realize that even with the gun, I am just as helpless as I was without it. I gasp in anger as Drake yanks Bo closer to him by yanking his hair to return the stance with his gun tightly squeezed upon Bo’s right temple as his left hand reaches over Bo’s chest to tightly clench upon Bo’s shattered arm. “This town is as good as mine,” he laughs above the gun fire as he sets his predator trained eyes upon the line of FBI men to his men as if taking count of all he has and all the FBI has left standing.
“We’re gonna have to shoot Drake,” Frank says suddenly looking at his men.

“Don’t you even think it!” I yell glaring at him as my heart swells with protectiveness of Bo, with my care of my cousin, “You shoot him or even at him he’ll for sure kill Bo!”

“We all are as good as dead if we shoot around him,” Frank explains trying to remain calm, “but if we kill him, his gang of men will be reeled into helplessness…this all has to do with Drake. Without Drake, they all don’t stand a chance and they know that.”

“I don’t care…you can’t shoot at Drake, I can’t let you harm my cousin like that,” I say as tears sting my eyes as the truth of his words shoot bullets into my heart at thinking of watching him kill Bo, of watching Bo die watching me, looking at me for help, “I can’t fail Bo that way, no…there has to be another way.”

“If you think of one in a second, I’ll go with it,” Frank says, “But if not…I start shooting.”

I stare at him blankly as I fight for answers and in my time of need come up empty on any solutions to save my cousin. I glance up at Bo as he heaves painfully for air while his baby blue eyes full of pain and fear stares at me, demanding me to help as I always have been able to do in the past. “I. . .I can’t think,” I finally say, “but you can’t just shoot knowing it’d kill Bo…someone who doesn’t deserve it, he didn’t do nothing wrong!”

“I know,” he sighs, “but if not, we all could wind up dead and him…none of us don’t have a chance of returning home if Drake is still alive. Drake is the key, the key we all have been shooting around, but we can’t shoot around him any more.”

My heart stops as I feel my own tears set in my eyes while I watch Frank secretly aim his gun at Drake in hope of getting Drake without Bo. I pray silently and quickly for Bo’s safety, relying on faith, knowing that faith is all I have now to rely on for my cousin’s safety.

As if by answering my prayers, the old wooden door is thrown open and my heart is stopped in great surprise of amazement as I see Uncle Jesse standing warily and tiredly in torn overalls and shirts, his face bruised and cut up arms. “Uncle Jesse,” I say softly as I see what he plans to do, by sneaking up on Drake, “don’t shoot.” Frank just shakes his head.

My mind wonders from the past year and a half ago of the funeral we all had attended, the year and a half Bo had been plagued into a deep shell of mourning for the dead Uncle Jesse to the night in the hospital when he was determined that Uncle Jesse was alive…that the Jesse on the floor that day couldn’t have been the real Uncle Jesse. Chills race up and down my body at the sight of Uncle Jesse, making anger level over anger at the thought of anyone hurting Uncle Jesse at it looks like they did.

“Uncle Jesse,” Bryceton says in a whisper behind us, though loud enough for us to hear.

My heart races as Jesse quickly scans through us for a long moment before he glares at Bo, his body trembles visibly from the distance from fear and anger. Abruptly Jesse tackles Drake to cause Drake to cuss out violently in anger and hatred as he shoves Bo before landing harshly upon the wooden porch. I gasp in fear as Bo harshly is thrown against the railing before ricocheting down the long hard five wooden steps to lie silently still in the dusty dirt ground. My heart stops at seeing his still figure before glancing up to see Uncle Jesse atop of Drake in time to see Jesse throw Drake’s gun upon the ground, pinning Drake to the porch.

Glancing around, I quickly run past through enemy lines and past the enemy who watches in confusement as gun fire slowly comes to a halt. Reaching Bo I drop harshly to my knees, no longer caring for my own warfare. Holding my breath, I slowly turn him over on his back to check his pulse to find a slow and weak heart beat and him breathing minimally. Unconscious. I sigh taking account the damage Bo had receive while being kidnaped, his body seeming to bruised and cut up all over; his right arm is covered in blood that bleeds out quickly, chills race up and down at the sight of his arm.

Sirens rings out in the distance and I sigh in relief at hearing Rosco coming, in hope that he is bringing some sort of help. “Luke!” cries a recognizable voice that I haven’t heard in a long time. Looking up I see Uncle Jesse walking to me slowly, pain and fear still etched into his crystal blue eyes. I am surprised to see him a foot a way from me instead of near Drake and glance up to Drake to see Frank and a couple men arresting him with a lot of difficulty.

“Uncle Jesse…we thought you-”

“I know…Bo told me,” he says and we hug for a long moment before we both kneel besides Bo.

“Figured as much…he seems to be ok as ok as he can be, just Unconscious right now,” I sigh and he holds onto my shoulder.

“Thank-you Luke,” Jesse says as Rosco pulls up with Hogg in the passenger seat and I am relieved to see a couple of ambulances behind him.

“I knew how violent Drake was, so I figured I’d be of some help and bring a couple of ambulances along in case,” Rosco says stepping out as if by apology, “I had to do something.”

I watch a couple of ambulance men visit Bryceton with Cooter and a couple of agents who were talking to him about all he can remember. “Thank-you for what?” I sigh, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Then you did more than you realized you done,” Jesse sighs placing a caring hand on Bo’s forehead, “the way Bo talked, you did everything…kept the farm together after I so called died. You were there for him…he needs you.”

“I don’t know how he gets that…if I did more, we wouldn’t be here…well he wouldn’t be at least,” I sigh filled with guilt.

“You need to give yourself with more credit…we all could do something different, whether we should have or not, is another story,” Jesse displays some more wisdom, “you were there and that is what counts…you helped him more than you realize, you just need to talk to him.”

I sigh looking down at him and for the first time realize that I once again have tears in my eyes for silence to intrude between us. I glance up at Jesse fighting with what to say only for the silence to be interrupted by a rupture of hoarse, force, and painful coughing as Bo awakes to show his pained blue eyes as he gasps for air. “I…can’t…breathe,” he gasps as a couple paramedics reach him and he grunts to argue as the slowly help him upon the stretcher to place an air masks upon his mouth and nose.

“We’ll need you to come with us sir,” one says to Jesse, “can you walk? If not we have-”

“I’ll walk,” Jesse says stubbornly walking over to Bo’s left side, “Things will work out Lukas,” Jesse finishes up as they help him walk to the ambulance.

I sigh watching them leave me behind and I look around at the busy agents running around. “C’mon Luke,” Rosco comes from behind, “I’ll lend ya a ride to the hospital if ya wish…we can call Daisy on the CB.”

I flash a small smile at Rosco in gratitude, “Thanks sheriff,” I answer and follow him to his car.