Disclaimer: I've totally forgotten...which characters do I own again? Oh yeah...only the ones I named. :)
"Missing?" Sam Brockson didn't seem terribly concerned, but he did keep looking at Jed, as if he were trying to place him. Jed hadn't spoken once, it had been Bo and Luke doing all the talking, and Jed kept to himself on the other side of the room, waiting for the results.
Bo missed it. Luke started to think about what Jed had said earlier about Henri-Mae, as if something just didn't sit right. But at the moment, there were more important things.
"We've looked all over town," Bo said. "She's not at the Sheriff's office, the Boar's Nest, her room at the boarding house—"
"Well, maybe she has a life you don't know about," Brockson drawled. "A boyfriend…. girlfriend…You knocked on every door yet?"
"I put out a call on the CB and she hasn't answered," Luke said. "We said it was urgent…and the last I saw her, she was a little drunk."
"A lot drunk," Jed said softly.
"Nobody has seen her," Bo insisted. "And yes, we checked with all her friends. None of them saw her."
"So where was the last place you saw her?" Brockson asked, standing up. A new look was on his face, as if he were just starting to become interested.
"At the dance," Luke said, catching Bo's blush.
"I thought I saw her heading toward the woods," Jed said. "She never came out."
"Well, did you check around there?" Brockson was looking at Luke, now. From extensive questioning a few months ago, he was aware of Luke's military record. He was also quite aware that the Duke boys seemed to fancy themselves detectives.
The cousins exchanged glances.
"I did," Jed said. "It looked like there might have been a struggle. Broken branches, and some drag marks on the ground, scratched up dirt. That's why we came to you, Marshal."
"Is it?" Brockson's gaze was on Jed again, and he crossed the room, approaching the man.
Jed let out a very loud, frustrated sigh, unfolded his arms and stepped right up to Brockson, meeting his gaze even though the man was easily a half-head taller than him. "Yes, it is, Marshal. Because you still haven't located that Slocum guy yet, have you?"
"You think it's connected?"
"Don't you?" Jed was obviously trying not to say something, which made it even more obvious. Luke half expected him to ask Brockson if they could step aside into a private room, alone, but perhaps the man knew that would have been worse. With a glance at the Duke boys, an expression that clearly said that it was not open to discussion, he said, "They knew each other in New York, didn't they?"
"And you know this because…"
Jed just looked at him. "I just know it, all right?"
"Did Henri-Mae tell you that, too?" Luke asked, that old feeling bounding back.
Jed didn't reply. "You and I are going to have a little chat soon," Brockson said to Jed. "In the meantime, I'd suggest you start looking. Get together as many of your friends as you can to help. Daylight's on its way, gentlemen. I'll get my men on it, too."
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She was getting weak.
She's been walking so long, her hips ached from the movement of the limp, and there was a stitch starting in her side. All of this, however, was barely felt compared to the blaring pain in the back of her head. It had started as a dull awareness, but now it felt like someone was driving a dagger in the crown of her skull.
She couldn't see the sun, but the sky was lighter. It was a cool morning, she could see wisps of her breath. All these small details she clung to, trying to stay focused, trying to keep walking, just putting one foot in front of the other—
When it broke down, she couldn't say. Her feet were numb, and she couldn't breathe properly. Her head hurt so bad she felt her throat closing with tears, her eyes blurring. Then she realized, as she attempted to wipe the tears away, that there were no tears, and that her vision wasn't working right.
And then she just stopped walking, and stood there, half-bent in the middle of the road, not sure where she was, not sure where she was going. All she really wanted to do was lie down, curl up and go to sleep. Yes, maybe for a minute, she'd rest and then she'd get up again…
Then she heard that awful horn. That Dixie chirping. It made her flinch, and she took another few steps, wanting to get away from it. She heard the crunching of gravel and a familiar voice, but the ground was getting closer – or were her legs shrinking? She felt something hard against her knees, another sharp pain, and her chin slumped against her chest, vision fading…
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It was an informal search – Brockson got a few of his guys in their cars driving up and down the back roads of Hazzard, but no one knew the place quite as well as the Duke's. Luke wanted Jed to come with them, but the man insisted on going his own way.
"I can cover off-roads on horseback," Jed said.
Not having slept all night made Bo a little woozy, but Luke was used to it from his military days, so he drove the General. Soon the sky was starting to get light, and with still no sign of Henri-Mae, even Brockson seemed on the verge of panic.
Then, turning down route 60, far outside of town, they saw a figure. White shirt, jeans, blond hair caked with mud. There was only one person it could be.
"What the hell?" Bo scowled as he leaned out the window. "Henri-Mae?"
"She can't hear you, we're too far away," Luke said. Bo darted back inside and reached over, slapping the horn. The sound seemed to have an effect on the staggering figure – not a positive one, either. "Bo, you idiot!" Luke snapped.
"Stop the car!" Bo cried, as she went down. Luke slammed the breaks, and Bo was already crawling out the window.
She was in the middle of the road. The middle. Not the side, but right down the middle. She was slick with mud, especially on her hair, and on her bare arms, and on the legs of her pants. She had been limping, and she didn't seem to respond to her name; Bo caught it just in time and slowed down as he approached her. She didn't turn.
"Careful, Bo," Luke said as he followed. "I called the paramedics, they'll come and get her."
"We could get her to the hospital faster than that!" Bo said, getting closer. "Henri-Mae, can you hear me?"
"'Course I can," she muttered. "You're shouting."
Someone came out of the woods, riding on a horse, tall and deep chestnut brown. It was Jed. He instantly took in the situation and stopped his horse so that Henri-Mae was half-way between him and the General. He slid off, taking in the sight of her, and the Dukes, neither one eager to approach her.
"She okay?" he called to them.
"That's what we're trying to determine," Luke said. He'd seen stuff like this before. Trauma had a way of messing with a human being, making them act strange, even deranged. Shock caused all kinds of unpleasant side-affects: fugue states, amnesia, personality distortions. He was grateful that Bo wasn't rushing at her, as it might have made it worse.
Jed, however, was a bit more gutsy. He slowly inched his way toward her, calling her name softly. After about the third try, she lifted up her chin, her eyes just barely focusing on him. "What's going on?" he asked her.
"Nothing," she muttered. "Got dirty."
"I can see that," he said. He glanced at Luke. "You call the paramedics?" he called.
"Yeah," Luke said, but Bo interrupted.
"We could get her to help faster in the General."
"No good," Jed said, his voice low and calm. "Can't shove her through that little window you guys use for a door, not in this state she's in. She might panic, freak out. Hurt herself, even you."
"Cut," she said.
All three men looked at her for a moment. Then, even more slowly, Jed came close enough to lean down and gaze into her face. "What'd you say, darlin'?"
"Cutter," she said. "Put me in the ground. Got me dirty."
Jed scowled. "Cutter did this? He buried you?"
"Yeah," she said, her breath coming in short, labored gasps. "In a little box. But I got out. I…" Her shoulder started to quake, her chest heaving. "Oh…oh God…I got…I got out…" And she dissolved then, in a mass of racking sobs that echoed off the trees in the early morning.
Gently, Jed scooted to her side, and put his hand on her shoulder. She melted against him, her fists closing on the front of his shirt as if for dear life.
The cousins looked at each other, astounded. Something was very, very wrong.
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Hazzard Hospital was not very large, barely two stories, with a staff of a half dozen nurses that alternated shifts, two doctors, and a smattering of technicians. The emergency room was small and was designed only to take two people at a time, which meant that the dozen people who wanted to get in to see if Henri-Mae was going to be all right had to take turns.
Nobody could decide who went in first.
It was Rosco and Boss who managed to elbow their way through, Boss hollering about how he was her boss and as she was one of his deputies he had first rights. Rosco, being Sheriff, came second. But the Dukes and Jed had already beaten them inside, and Jed was in the process of getting Lula Marie through the doors around the small crowd when Henri-Mae regained consciousness.
She hadn't properly fainted. When the paramedics arrived, they took her half-lucid from Jed, and determined that part of her problem came from oxygen deprivation, so they had her on a pump. The bump on the back of her head had caused her to be concussed, so being conscious was important, but difficult. The older, senior doctor of Hazzard, Doc Applebee, arrived minutes after she was brought in, and after a quick, precursory examination, abruptly ordered everyone out.
"You…you can't do that!" Hogg protested. "I demand a report of her condition, for the insurance—"
"Stuff your insurance, Boss," Bo snarled at him irritably, "you just want to be the first one to talk to her when she wakes up, in case she knows where that Slocum guy is, and you can take all the credit."
"Calm down, Bo," Luke said as he ushered his cousin toward the swinging doors.
"This young lady is in a delicate state," Applebee said, containing his temper, which no one in Hazzard had ever seen come so close to the surface. "Shock can have all kinds of terrible effects on a human being and I'm not going to let your yelling and carrying on make them worse!"
"Doctor, can I stay?" Lula asked, coming forward. "Maybe Henri-Mae needs at least one calm familiar face."
Applebee twitched his head in approval. "But that's all. The rest of you, out!"
So into the waiting room they tumbled, coming up against Shelly and her family, and Jesse and Daisy and the other Hazzard deputies with their questions.
Lula approached the bed they had moved Henri-Mae onto. The nurses were going about cleaning her up, a delicate task that would test a conscious person's modesty. Her clothes were thick with soil, the white of her shirt gone underneath the smears of mud. Her hair was a mass of it, and Lula instantly noticed the dried tear tracks on her face.
"Hey there," she said, realizing that Henri-Mae's eyes were open, and she was looking about.
"Hey," Henri-Mae replied. "Where am I?"
"The hospital," Lula Marie said. "Do you remember?"
"I remember that damn General," Henri-Mae muttered. "And Jed and one of his pretty horses…is he still here? Jed?"
"He's outside. He and the Duke boys found you, they said."
Henri-Mae's eyes widened. "No, they didn't find me. I found them. I got out."
"Hey, slow down there!" Lula said, grasping Henri-Mae's arm as she tried to sit up. "Calm down, you need some rest—"
"He tried to bury me!" Henri-Mae cried, sitting bolt upright. "That fat bastard tried to put me in the ground! I got out! I dug my way out!"
"We're going to give her a sedative," Doc Applebee said, coming over to the other side of the gurney, where one of the nurses had grasped Henri-Mae's arm in an attempt to insert an I.V. Upon realizing what they were doing, Henri-Mae struggled to free her arm.
"You're not sticking that needle into my arm," Henri-Mae snapped. "I'm not sick and I'm not hurt! I'm pissed! And if you keep me in here we'll never track down Slocum! He'll get away!"
"Nurse, hold her," Doc Applebee said. Not one, but two obeyed, one of them getting Henri-Mae's legs so she couldn't kick, and the other grasping her shoulders in a near-wrestler's hold. He pulled out a syringe and swabbed down her upper arm.
"No, don't! You're assaulting an officer of the law! Stop that! Rosco! Rosco, help!"
The needle went in. A few seconds passed as the drug got into her blood, and soon her eyes drooped and she relaxed. They laid her on the gurney, and went about their business.
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