General Lee's Revenge--Karma

Chapter Four: "The Duke Boys Are Dead"

Jesse shuffled out into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot. It was still fairly early, the night coolness still hung inside the house, the fireplace dark and empty. As he was reminiscing about the old times of when he and his family would sit huddled around the fireplace on cold nights and pouring himself a cup of coffee, he heard a noise behind him.

Jesse quickly turned, seeing Rosco sitting at the table, his hands clasped in front of him, almost as if in prayer. The sheriff's head was down, eyes closed. He hadn't noticed him before, probably because he wasn't moving, though something was definitely wrong. Jesse quickly set his coffee mug down and looked around the kitchen, although nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Just then, he felt a hand suddenly clamp on his shoulder and he spun around. The heavy-set man standing behind him jumped as well, reeling backward, the two of them startling with a flail of limbs.

"JD! What are you doin'?" Jesse exclaimed.

Boss Hogg waved his hands in front of him and gritted his teeth. Jesse gave him a confused look and the commissioner pressed a stubby finger to his lips and pointed behind Jesse back toward the kitchen. It was then that he heard the front door bang shut and a sudden, cool air drift through the house. The old, weathered man turned slowly to where Boss Hogg was pointing, his breath hitched in his throat.

"Hello, Jesse."

Rage boiled inside of him, enough to warm the whole house. He had half a mind to grab the rifle that hung above the walkway between the kitchen and living room. Nevertheless, the greeting went on without a response, only rude stares.

"Surprised to see me? I can tell. You didn't think I'd turn up here, did you?" Hughie asked.

Jesse stepped into the kitchen slowly, being mindful of Hughie's gun trained on him. "Oh, I'm surprised, but I figured you'd be here sooner or later."

As he said this, he glanced at Rosco's side to see his pearl-handled pistol still in its holster, but quickly averted his gaze to maintain eye contact with Hughie, to keep him distracted. From the way Jesse saw it, he needed to keep Hughie busy, but also get the sheriff's attention. If Rosco could get his gun without Hughie noticing, they'd have more leeway.

Jesse kept his movements slow, being careful not to do anything too sudden, to do something to get himself shot. He held his hands up in surrender, taking a seat at the table as he normally would.

"But, I do have to admit, I figured my boys would have you on lockdown by now," Jesse said, nudging his foot closer to Rosco's under the table.

Hughie laughed in an almost hyena-like manner. "Oh, they tried, but here I am, and they're not, what a shame." His demeanor suddenly changed, his face grim. "Your boys can't save you now, or anybody for that matter."

"What d'you mean by that? Where're my nephews?" Jesse asked, tapping Rosco's foot with his own; he needed to keep Hughie talking.

Jesse watched in his peripheral vision as Rosco's eyes opened and looked over at him. He quickly shot a glance down toward the sheriff's gun holster. Rosco followed his gaze and formed a subtle nod, unclasping his hands and inching his right one towards his gun.

Hughie's lips curled up in a satisfied sneer and his shoulders hunched upwards in a sinister shrug. "Couldn't tell ya. By my guess, they're bleedin' out in the dirt by now, them and Daisy-girl. I got a little surprise for them, Luke helped me set it up."

Jesse shook his head. "Your word ain't worth a bucket full of spit, I don't believe you."

Rosco's hand had nearly reached his gun, hovering just above the holster, ready to draw.