"Who you callin' a chicken?"
"You're Kentucky fried, my friend."
"Kentucky huh? That's about how far away you'll hafta move to get away from your sorry reputation by the time this race is over."
"It might be where I am by the time your pathetic piece of trash crosses the finish line." Matthew Garrett replied, gunning the engine as he looked at his brother, Anthony, who was doing the same thing in his own car at the makeshift starting line.
"We talk some good trash, bro." Anthony replied into the CB. "It's a talent we might need if dad finds out we're out here racin' his cars."
"Amen to that." Matthew replied. "Hopefully, he won't."
"Least not 'till we're better. I'm tellin' ya Matt, we're gettin' good. Almost good enough to try out for the Busch Series next year. By then, we'll be in line to earn so much money Dad can restore these old racers to pristine condition. Then you sure won't hear nothin' from him!"
"The Garrett Brothers are gonna put Chicasaw County on the map!" Matt exclaimed with a cowboy yell.
"You can put money on it, little bro'. Now remember, we're gonna go down route 4, take the left fork by the old Dobson place and the race ends at the mill on Hackett's Rd. Little and his cronies never patrol that area, so we should be good. You got that?"
"Ten-four. You just say when." Matthew replied.
Matt dropped the CB handle and switched the car to drive before looking over at his brother. Anthony adjusted his helmet before he held up three fingers on a gloved hand. As the fingers dropped one by one, Matt revved the engine, waiting for the last one to disappear. Once it did, the tires on both vehicles spun wildly for a few seconds before they finally made enough contact with the ground to lurch forward. Barreling down the narrow dirt road, both of the brothers concentrated on beating the other, having the time of their lives.
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Luke Duke yawned as he made his way back toward Hazzard in the loaner car that Cooter had set him up with. The long night he had spend reminiscing with his old Marine buddies down in Atlanta was beginning to take it's toll on him. His plans involved nothing more that going to bed once he got home, despite the fact that it would only be around 3 o'clock in the afternoon. He dared Bo to accuse him of shirking his chores after all the times he had covered for him while he was out racing for former Nascar driver Billy Kay.
Luke continued along through Chickasaw County, the yawns increasing more and more. He turned on the radio in an effort to keep alert, but the station was playing a soft country melody that would lull even the most alert infant to sleep. Nodding off ever so slightly, Luke was instantly brought back to reality when his right tires left the pavement.
In a panic that the unexpected would produce, Luke jerked the wheel back to his left, overcorrecting his mistake. As the loaner went into the opposing lane, a driver headed in the opposite direction sounded the horn and slammed on the brakes as Luke fought to get his car back on track.
Missing the passing car, Luke finally managed to get the loaner straightened out and back in the right lane. "That was too close, Duke." He muttered to himself as with his sleeve he wiped sweaty brows perched atop wide eyes. "You ain't careful you're gonna get someone killed." He then told himself, immediately realizing he was beginning to sound a lot like Jesse.
Up ahead, there was a small street sign identifying a dirt road off to the right as being Hackett's Road. Recognizing it as a road that would get him back to Hazzard, Luke decided to take it in the hopes that he would have less traffic to worry with in his fatigued condition.
The winding country road led in and out of the hills of Chickasaw County. It was a road that Luke had traveled on several occasions since his childhood, and time had not changed it a bit. For miles the only evidence of civilization besides the road itself was the long abandoned Hackett's Mill that had been shut down years before Luke was even born.
Luke offered the blocked drive to the mill a glance as he passed it, realizing that it was sort of an unofficial checkpoint saying the 14 mile Hackett's Road journey was about half over. It didn't take long for the monotonous scenery to begin to take a toll on his fatigue, and he was soon fighting to keep his eyes open again.
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Even after several miles, Matthew and Anthony seemed to be going head to head, but they knew that was about to end as the one lane bridge loomed near. As they both stepped on the gas to inch ahead, it was apparent that neither was going to get in front of the other through speed alone. Looking at his brother who was to the left of him, Matthew decided to do something dirty.
Waiting until Anthony was watching, he jerked his wheel to the left. Instinct told Anthony that he'd better jerk left too unless he wanted to explain the damage to his dad.
Slamming on the brakes, the elder Garrett barely missed a tree on the shoulder of the road. "Dang it Matt!" He exclaimed, watching his brother continue on into the distance. All he heard in reply from the CB was a mad laugh followed by a rooster's crow.
As Matthew threw the handle down once again, he looked up at the one lane bridge, the bridge that pretty much determined the winner even though the mill was still 2 miles down the road. Grinning, he raced across the bridge and around the corner, never knowing that his priorities were about to change.
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Luke continued down Hackett's Road when all of a sudden, Bo appeared beside him with a bow and arrow. "Keep 'imp steady Luke, and we'll be eating high on the boar tonight."
In seconds, Bo was sitting on the window frame, pointing an arrow toward the large boar in the road. Letting go, he hit the beast, which responded by running toward them wildly, uttering a cry that would wake the dead.
Or in this instance, a Duke. As he opened his eyes the boar morphed into a muddy race car as Bo and his arrow vanished into thin air. As the race car sounded the horn once again and swerved to miss Luke, the Duke boy did some swerving of his own.
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Matthew's eyes widened in shock to see the black car go off the side of the road. As he brought his dad's car to a skidding halt and climbed out, he heard the sickening sound of a crash as Anthony pulled up beside him.
"You alright?" Anthony asked, very concerned to have found his brother just standing there on the side of the road. "What happened?" He then asked, having jumped out of his car and forcing Matthew to face him as he stared dumbstruck.
"I……I was going around the curve. This car was on my side of the road…..I blew the horn…Then…." He trailed off looking over the side.
Anthony looked over to the side of the road and saw freshly disturbed foliage. "C'mon." Anthony insisted, pulling on Matthew.
Slipping on leaves as they climbed down the embankment, it took the brothers a few minutes to reach the car that had finally came to rest a hundred or so feet from the road. Reaching it at last, Anthony looked in the window and spotted a dark haired driver who sat unmoving, lines of blood going down his cheek as a big purple bump formed on his forehead.
"Is he dead?" Matthew asked nervously.
"I don't know…I…I don't think so." Anthony replied, creeping a bit closer to the car.
Matt shook his head. "He ain't movin', Tony." He announced as tears formed in his eyes.
"Would you just be quiet? I'm checking." Anthony insisted, stepping forward with as much courage that the eighteen year old could muster. Reaching through the window, he gave Luke's shoulder a quick shake.
"Hey man, wake up." He said, getting no response. "Wake up!" He said a little louder.
"Tony, what's gonna happen to me? You think I'll end up in juvenile hall?" Matthew asked nervously.
"No! You didn't do nothin'! You just said he was on your side of the road, didn't you?" Anthony replied.
"Well, yeah. But you know how Little is, he wouldn't take the word of a seventeen year old. He'd blame me, especially when he found out what we's out here doin'."
Anthony thought a minute. What Matthew had said was true. Fingers usually were pointed at teens whenever they were in the vicinity of an accident, whether or not they were to blame. What if the driver had died? Fingers, in this incident, could mean possibly mean juvenile hall for Matt, jail for him, and cut any chance they had of a future in racing.
"C'mon." The elder Garrett then decided, pulling on Matthew once again. "We're leaving."
"But….what about him?" Matt asked as he was being pulled back up the hill.
"Better not chance Little findin' us here. We'll make an anonymous tip from a payphone…..after we get Dad's cars back." Anthony replied, leaving Luke alone in the wreck.
Well folks, this just goes to show that you can take the Duke away from Hazzard, but you can't take hazard away from the Duke.