It was the first day that they hadn't heard of the chaos Hughie Hogg was bringing down on Hazzard. The first day that the smell of gunpowder didn't waft downstream from it. And it was the first day that Cooter asked William Smith if he had a CB.

"Yeah, I got one in the kitchen." William replied, pointing his thumb towards the kitchen behind him.

Cooter tipped his hat anxiously and stalked briskly to the kitchen. Bo, Luke, Daisy, and Enos followed, drawn by curiosity. They watched as Cooter switched to channel three, brought the microphone up to his mouth, and sent out a call.

"General Lee, Christine, either of you listenin'? Come back." Cooter called.

A series of noises erupted over the other end of the radio.

Cooter turned back to look at the others' puzzled faces. "My apologies for wakin' you up so early, but I'm gonna need one of ya to meet me at the Sumter Landin', we've got some reconnaissance to do."

Another series of noises came from the other end. Bo, Luke, Daisy, and Enos all exchanged glances.

"Thanks."

Cooter powered off the CB and turned around to face them, knowing that a blizzard of questions was coming.

"Cooter, if this's your idea of some kinda twisted prank, it ain't very funny." Luke said.

"What were all those weird noises?" Daisy asked.

"Who was that?" Enos asked.

"I ain't playin' no prank, that was General Lee on the other end." Cooter explained.

"Our car is talkin' to you on the CB?" Bo asked, unamused.

"I know it sounds a little crazy, but I'm serious about this. Ask Boss Hogg and Rosco, they know all about it."

"Cooter, now you know that don't make no sense, General Lee's a car, he ain't alive." Luke argued.

"Then you explain why he takes up a mind of his own whenever he senses there's somethin' wrong. Or explain why he makes all them noises by himself, 'cause that's what you heard on the other end of that there radio."

They all grew quiet, unsure of how to respond.

Cooter sighed. "Either way, I'm goin' back to Hazzard, I gotta see what's all gone down. I promise I'll let you know the moment I get to the bottom of it all."

"Cooter, are you crazy? They'll kill you!" Luke argued.

"That's a risk I'm willin' to take. You know as well as I do that somebody's gotta do it, and better me than you." Cooter gestured to Luke's injured leg.

They could all see Luke's blood begin to boil as he scowled.

"I agree with Cooter, but I think it'd be better if I went." Bo suggested.

"Stay outta this, Bo." Luke growled, not looking at him.

"At least I can walk right." Bo scrunched up his face, the left side beginning to bleed as soon as he did.

"Why do you even wanna go anyway?" Luke pushed past Cooter to talk to Bo face to face.

Bo wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. "It's personal this time."

Bo pulled his hat down low as he walked the deserted street. He couldn't help but stare at the dark green pick-up that rolled along next to him, keeping perfect pace. There were black burn scars that stretched far and wide across its body, they branched off in all different directions, making the truck look like a tree.

He hadn't really believed it until he'd seen it. Living cars, who would've known? General Lee was in love with a 1958 Plymouth Fury named Christine, and this truck had superpowers. He felt the urge to roll his eyes, he'd believe it when he saw it. Alright, so the truck could shock people, and it coincidentally was in the vicinity of a thunderstorm that appeared out of nowhere. So now, Bo was supposed to follow it blindly into a den of criminals just because it was psychic or whatever. No, that's not what Cooter said, he used a different word, intuitive I think it was, he thought.

Just then, the truck pulled up onto the sidewalk, pointing its nose towards an alley. It flashed its lights twice, signaling that this was the place. Bo sighed and turned down the alley. He would've preferred finding and taking down Hughie Hogg on his own.

As he began making his way down the alley, a low grinding sound echoed behind him. He whipped around anxiously only to find that the truck had gotten itself stuck in the alley's opening. He walked up to it and pushed on its front end. The truck's tires screeched as he tried once more to pull himself out. Bo pushed hard on it, trying to give it whatever help he could provide. The truck's fenders ground against the walls of the two buildings. Then, just like that, the truck shot out into the street, skidding to a halt.

"Stay there, I'll be back soon." Bo called to it.

The truck honked its horn twice, signaling that it understood.

With that, Bo turned and disappeared down the alley. At the end of it, there was an old, wooden door set in a faded, brick wall. The bricks were cracked and chipped, the door had moss growing on it, and was half rotten. Bo slowly pulled it open. It creaked loudly on its rusty hinges. He cringed, hoping that no one had heard the horrendous noise.

The door opened to reveal a dark stairway leading down. The stairs were made out of rusted metal, Bo didn't entirely trust them to hold his weight. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and stepped foot onto the stairs. They creaked under his feet, but they held. He slowly made his way down the stairs. He could hear the faint screeching of rats as the door swung shut behind him, sending chills up his spine.

"Alright, this's fine, I'm fine, everythin's fine." He whispered reassuringly to himself.

He rubbed his arms nervously as he continued down the stairs, eventually becoming swallowed by the darkness. It was dead silent now, even the rats didn't dare make a sound. Bo held his breath. God, this just goes on forever, he thought. He suddenly felt stupid for not bringing a flashlight with him. How far down am I even?

Just then, Bo's feet hit solid concrete, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He felt like those stairs would never end. The room was pitch black, however, and he couldn't see a thing. He put his arms out in front of him and began walking around, looking for a light switch. He got about four feet before a string hit him in the face. He reached up and pulled it. An old, yellow lightbulb flickered to life.

Inside the room were crates piled among other crates. In front of him, there was a table with something on it, but it was covered with a large tarp. Bo peeled back the tarp to see a little model of Hazzard County, except, it wasn't Hazzard anymore. In place of most of the farms and the town were mills and factories.

So this is Hughie's plan, turn Hazzard into an industrial hotspot so he can make money off it. Smart, but selfish, Bo thought. He looked over the places that'd been left untouched, mostly woods, swamp, and mountains, but the old foundry and coffin works were still there. Hollow Hill was still there, as well as Indian Bluffs, the mill, the old copper mine, and the quarry. Why? Bo wondered.

Suddenly, the horrendous creak of the door echoed down the stairway. Bo jumped, quickly covering the table back up, and turning the light off. He bolted behind a stack of crates, remaining hidden in the darkness. The stairs creaked with the weight of the stranger. A few moments passed before feet tapped the concrete floor. Bo held his breath, heart pounding. The light flickered on, and he heard scraping across the floor, metal on concrete.

"I know you're here, don't think you can hide from me." A familiar voice snarled.

Jackson, Bo recognized the voice. He heard him take a few steps closer.

"I thought y'all left Hazzard, but I guess I was wrong."

Bo buried himself into the crack between the crates and the wall, wishing he could disappear. He watched as Jackson walked past him, holding a shovel. He began to turn slowly.

Fight or die, Bo thought. He jumped out from behind the crates, tearing the shovel from Jackson's hands. He kicked him into the stack of crates behind him, watching as they toppled around an unconscious Jackson. Bo laughed uneasily. He dropped the shovel onto Jackson's back and began walking towards the stairs. He heard the uneven creak of the rusted stairs as a shadow made its way down to him. Tall and wide like a formidable wall, Sorrel Walkmen stood before Bo. Bo took a few steps back, his breath caught in his throat.

"You Dukes just don't know when to quit, do ya?" Sorrel snarled.

Bo didn't answer, he couldn't. His body remained frozen in fear, even as Sorrel raised his arm.

Sorrel brought his arm down forcibly, cracking Bo across the face with the handle of his gun. He smirked as he watched him fall to the ground.

Bo woke up, bound and gagged. He knew right away that he'd been moved, places like this didn't exist in town. The air was cold and frigid inside the room. Corpses of frozen animals hung on the walls, and Bo's breath hung in the air in a white cloud. His teeth soon began to chatter, his body shivered.

Oh my God, I'm going to die here, Bo thought. I'm going to die in a freezer. He jumped as a stiff rabbit fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. He shivered again, curling up into a ball. Okay, maybe this will conserve my body heat long enough for someone to find me. Hopefully, that pick-up lives up to Cooter's expectations.

Just then, the door opened, and Sorrel stepped inside the freezer. He had a bucket with him, and with every step he took, icy water sloshed around inside. Sorrel set the bucket down a few feet away and knelt before Bo. He untied the gag around Bo's mouth, pulling him up onto his knees. He grabbed the bucket and stood.

Bo didn't say anything and only glared at him, still shivering.

"Nothin'? No final words of protest? No cryin' and beggin' to let ya go?" Sorrel taunted.

Again, Bo said nothing. He knew what was coming, he knew how hopeless the situation was.

Sorrel shrugged and dumped the cold water over Bo's head. Bo inhaled sharply, eyes growing wide. Sorrel began humming nonchalantly as he picked him up by the arms, and hung him by a meathook on the ceiling.

Sorrel laughed, stepping backward to admire his work. "Let's see how long it takes before your hands freeze."

Bo kicked in the air, feeling the circulation cut off in his hands. "Let me down, you're makin' a mistake!"

"Oh, he speaks. You shoulda said somethin' sooner, maybe you wouldn't be so hung up now."

Bo scowled. "So this's your ingenious plan? You're gonna let me freeze to death here while you let Hughie Hogg make a killin' off of Hazzard. Tell me, Sorrel, what's in it for you?"

Sorrel's smile faded. "I get to kill as many people as I want. I don't care about money, I'm a Cajun for Christ's sake. All that matters to me is that there's blood on my hands again."

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many people died already?"

Sorrel chuckled. "Believe it or not, you're gonna be the first one." He turned away and headed for the door. "Have fun."

Sorrel disappeared out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Bo's shoulder popped as he settled in the air, he cringed at the strain on his arms. His clothes were frozen stiff, and he could feel the cold of the freezer for real now. It was almost unbearable. Bo came to the realization that he wasn't shivering anymore. Even though his heart had been pounding in his ears before, it was now slow and quiet. He found it difficult to breathe, his eyelids growing heavy. Within a minute or so, the world went black.