CASTS
Broken leg: the two words surfacing to her mind, coupled with the real feeling of pain in her left leg, pierced Daisy's conscience until she opened her eyes.
An unknown ceiling was waiting for her: Hospital's aseptic ceiling, but the arms around her belly weren't aseptic, neither the breathe in her left ear.
She smiled, enjoying the warmth of the body near her, "Oh Enos, you've learnt from me a new way to hug".
Lying on his right side, he was sleeping deeply, blocking her with his arms around her belly and his left leg across her lap, his head on her pillow and his breath in her left ear.
She raised her head, she observed everything around her and she collapsed again on the pillow, sighing: under the blankets her left leg was clearly bigger than the right one because of the cast. She couldn't look at her face but the itching on her forehead was recalling her the cut Luke's was talking about, and that itching was probably the effect of stitches.
She tried to wash away those pesky feelings in her leg and forehead, focusing on Enos' presence by her side.
His breath was deep and regular, and it tickled her ear and neck; his arms were wrapped around her belly, and his right arm between her back and the mattress was a sort of gentle massage whereas his left forearm rested on her belly near her left forearm; his left leg crossed her lap whereas his long right leg touched her left leg, leg against leg.
Her right hand reached his thigh, caressing him from his hip to his knee and then up from his knee to his hip, "Oh Enos, are you so tired?" her voice a whisper.
"He was exhausted," uncle Jesse entered the room and answered Daisy's whisper, "How do you feel, Daisy?" He walked to a chair near the bed, he took Enos' hat and gun belt from it, placing them on a little table, and he finally sat down, "You slept several hours. Your concussion was worse than we thought."
"Several hours? What time is it?" Daisy raised her head looking for a window and realizing what she missed few before, in her first exploration of the room: outside the room it was almost dark. She turned her head to uncle Jesse, sitting at the right side of the bed, and in her turning her head to her uncle she felt Enos' breath caressing her nape, "What's 'bout the bomber?"
Uncle Jesse shook his head, "While I was staying with you, Bo, Luke, Enos, Rosco and those detectives looked for him everywhere, but they didn't find any sign. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack, a sharp and dangerous needle."
"Where are Bo and Luke, now?"
"They're at the Hospital's Café; they needed a strong coffee, and also I," he smiled and he gently caressed her hair, "they'll be happy to see you're awake."
"And what's 'bout Enos? You said he was exhausted," Enos' regular breath and his being motionless by her side was starting to worry her.
"Yeah, when he came to the Hospital, one hour ago, he was exhausted and scared. He sat by your side while I was leaving the room to talk to doctors, and when I came back he was sleeping," he pointed at him, smiling, "that way, and he's still sleeping. Bo, Luke and I decided to let him sleep, but I think it's time to wake him up. He'll be happy to see you're awake."
Uncle Jesse stood up, bending to the bed and gently touching Enos' shoulder.
"You're finally awake, Miss Duke."
Detective Colt's voice blocked uncle Jesse from his gently shaking Enos' shoulder; he turned to the blonde detective, looking at him. Daisy recognized uncle Jesse's sharp look as he observed the detectives entering the room: it was the first meeting between uncle Jesse and those men, so she wasn't surprised her uncle was analyzing them really carefully.
His hands in his trousers' pockets and an indefinable smile on his face, detective Colt was looking at her. Despite the blankets covering her up to her waist and Enos' arms around her belly, her chest was covered just by the Hospital's thin gown, and Daisy didn't like that detective's impudence since the first time she met him.
"Did you see anything strange, this morning, before the blast?" detective Molise walked near the bed, and Daisy realized why they were there: job. As usual, detective Molise's dark eyes were cold and his look indecipherable.
"I was driving to the Boar's Nest. I'm a waitress…" she blushed catching detective Colt's sly smile widening, and she wondered if that man knew her usual outfit when she worked at the Boar's Nest (Hazzard was a small town, and maybe the detective knew it from some folks), "… anyway, no. I just remember the blast while I was coming closer the Boar's Nest."
"Are you sure? No cars… or people around there?" Detective Molise insisted.
"No," Daisy stared at the ceiling, trying to remember everything of the blast and trying to forget detective Colt's look, "I didn't notice anything strange, but I'm a bit confused about it. My head hurts, and I fainted."
"Glad you're alive, Miss Duke," detective Molise had a fleeting and cold smile, "if you had died, your fiancé would've gone mad with pain," his eyes sliding all over Enos' motionless body, "and you too, if he had died that day, in L.A."
Daisy froze at that look and at that hint, catching, by her side, uncle Jesse's similar reaction.
"Just a broken leg and a cut on my forehead," she tried to draw detective Molise's attention to her, she didn't like his cold eyes on Enos, "so, this isn't my best look."
Bo and Luke silently came in and they immediately felt the strange atmosphere, their eyes looking for uncle Jesse.
"Your look is a lot better than your fiancé's one," detective Colt turned serious but he didn't move from the spot where he was standing, his hands still in his pockets, "he had both legs and both arms broken, and a lot more bruises than a single one on his forehead, not to mention his internal injuries. So, don't worry for your look, Miss Duke, we're used to worse looks… We're used to corpses, too."
The nightmare she had at the Boarding House made Daisy shiver as she fought back the feeling of detective Molise's hand around her throat and the image of detective Colt hitting Enos.
"James, please," detective Molise turned to his colleague, finally averting his cold eyes from Enos, "stop talking about it. You're scaring Miss Duke," his eyes moved from the blonde detective to Daisy, "sorry Miss Duke. We aren't going to bother you any more. Thanks for answering our questions, and if you remember something," he glanced at Enos before to look again at her, "tell it to deputy Strate." Walking to the door, he glanced at detective Colt, "Come on. Let her rest."
After the detectives' leaving, just silence in the room until uncle Jesse collapsed on the chair, taking his red hat off and scratching his head, "If only I had known Enos was in Hospital, I would have gone to L.A. Immediately."
"And I too, uncle Jesse," Daisy's right hand grabbed Enos' left forearm as she turned to him, her forehead against his one.
"Both arms and legs broken? Beasts!" his arms raised, his hands resting on the doorpost and his head down, Bo controlled the rage in his voice, "if those detectives have something to do with it, I don't know what I could do. If they just try to lay a finger on Enos, I…"
"Bo, please, I don't want to hear you talking this way. I don't know what to think 'bout those detectives, but we won't let them hurt Enos if they're planning to do it," uncle Jesse stood up, "and now it's really time to wake him up. Visiting time is almost over," he gently shook Enos' shoulder, "Boy, wake up."
Enos finally opened his eyes, reconnecting with reality around him; he sat up, rubbing his eyes and then looking at uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke, "Sorry, I fell asleep. I didn't even realize I…" he blushed at the thought of having uncle Jesse and his friends looking at him as he was sleeping so close to Daisy.
"Don't worry sugar," Daisy sat up and gave him a soft and loving pinch on his cheek, "you kept me company," she laughed amused at his embarrass.
"Hey Daisy! You're finally awake," he turned to her and he smiled, "how's your leg?"
She shrugged, "Broken. But I'm fine, don't worry," she kept on smiling, erasing from her mind detective Colt's words about Enos' injuries despite her eyes lingered on his legs and arms. She observed him turning round and, still sitting on the bed, bending down and putting his shoes on, and she couldn't help but caressing his nape and then sliding her hand along his spine.
He turned his face to her, smiling and blushing, then he stood up and grabbed his gun belt and hat, "Sorry for the question, Daisy, but… do you remember anything strange before the blast?"
Daisy shook her head, "No. Nothing strange."
"Detective Molise and detective Colt just asked Daisy 'bout it," uncle Jesse stared at Enos, and Daisy knew her uncle was studying Enos' reaction.
Enos turned pale, "Did detective Molise and detective Colt come to the Hospital?"
Uncle Jesse nodded, "Yeah, you were sleeping so deeply you didn't even hear them coming in and asking Daisy 'bout the blast."
Enos looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, uncle Jesse."
Uncle Jesse raised his eyebrows, "I'm not reproaching you, Enos, I'm simply saying you're really tired. I'm glad you slept a bit, and I'd be glad if you stayed at the farm for dinner and for the night. Daisy is goin' to stay at the Hospital for the night, but Bo, Luke and I would be glad of having you at the farm. We could find a way to catch that bomber. We have to stop him before he really kills someone."
Daisy nodded, impressed with uncle Jesse's ability to read her mind 'cause in effect she was going to ask him to convince Enos to stay at the farm for the night, and uncle Jesse knew how to convince him.
"Yeah, thanks uncle Jesse. We have to find a way to stop that man."
Uncle Jesse nodded at Enos' words, and Daisy sighed in relief.
He was trapped like a bug in the spider-web.
His arms were tied above his head, and he couldn't move his legs: he was trapped, both arms and legs blocked, both arms and legs in casts.
Around him black figures looked at him, both dark and blues eyes, cold eyes.
He could see just their eyes but not their faces.
He felt a heavy and cold weight on his chest as the dark figures approached him; he struggled against the ropes blocking him, but it was pointless. Beside, there was no chance to run away because of his broken arms and legs.
"Traitor"… "Traitor"… "TRAITOR!"
Their voices turned from whispers to shouts.
He saw their mouths, red abyss opening in those dark figures, and in those abyss sharp teeth, sharp as saws.
He looked terrified at those mouths approaching his naked body, those teeth dipping into his chest and belly's flesh; he felt those sharp blades inside his body, ripping his internal organs and his bones.
They were devouring him, and he was feeling it: every bite, every crunch.
Did paralyzed bugs feel that way when the spider ate them?
A sticky liquid dripped from his torn body, but it wasn't blood: not a warm and red liquid but a black and cold one.
At the umpteenth crunch (why was he still alive?) he felt that cold liquid reaching his throat from his stomach: did they reach his heart, ripping it?
His body started to shake convulsively.
"ENOS! Please, open your eyes. It's just a nightmare!"
Uncle Jesse's voice finally reached his conscience.
Enos collapsed into uncle Jesse's arms, his body finally motionless and his eyes opening wide in the darkness until he recognized the farm.
"Just a nightmare, boy. Don't worry," exhaustion and worrisome in uncle Jesse's voice as he looked at his nephews standing by his side, glad Daisy wasn't there while he wondered how and if tell her about Enos' night.