Bo and Luke hardly talked for the rest of that day, which the rest of the family thought odd but decided not to get in the middle of it in hopes that they'd be able to work something out. Like they always had. However, not a word was spoken between them until dinner. And a dinner that was.

Throughout the majority of said dinner, both boys picked at their plates, not eating. And it was clear to the others that their little conflict had not yet been resolved. That is, until Luke spontaneously cleared his throat which, somehow, tended to set Bo off.

"You got somethin' to say, say it," the blonde Duke boy said coldly.

From the corner of the table, Clayton tugged at the brim of his fedora. "Oh, this oughta be good."

"Alright, I will," Luke replied, dropping his fork. "Ever since I explained this whole thing with Ridgefield you've been off, like your whole world is cavin' in. But what bothers me the most is that you don't talk to nobody about it. You just drive off with General whenever you feel like it and avoid all your problems."

"Yeah?" Bo growled, standing up. "And what other choice do I have, huh?" He shook his head. "I mean, Allen's after me, and you sure as hell can't do nothin', so what's the point? I told you before, I'm as good as dead already, now more so than ever."

Luke stood as well with his arms folded, seeming to size Bo up.

"And y'know what? The sad part is that yeah, you can't do anythin' about it, and you won't. Which figures seein' as how this's all your fault in the first place."

Luke's face dropped as he said this, mouth opening but no words coming out.

"Yeah, I said it, and y'know what? We're all thinkin' it. If you hadn't been so selfish-"

"Bo…"

"What? What the hell else could you possibly have to say to me?"

"I'll admit, I've done some things that I ain't particularly proud of. And you're right, I can't do nothin', but I told the cops what they needed to know, I did the right thing."

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think? I mean, didn't you say that you were the only one who could find Allen because you knew him so well?"

"Yeah? Well, now they got a lot more to go on than they did before."

"Oh, to Hell with that! And to Hell with you!"

Bo quickly pushed past his cousin, storming out the door and slamming it shut behind him. Luke followed. Jesse and Daisy got up as well, chasing after the two boys. Clayton, however, went to the window.

Bo stepped off the porch steps, General rolling up to him.

"Hey, Bo, you all right?" the Charger asked.

Bo's gaze quickly turned to him and he caught a flash of rage in his baby-blue eyes. "Get outta here, I don't need you right now!"

The Charger rumbled, watching as Bo stormed off towards the white pick-up, Luke following, grabbing the passenger side window as his cousin climbed in.

"Bo, c'mon, you can't just drive off whenever you got problems. Besides, it's dark and it ain't safe," Luke said, trying to talk him down. "I mean, don't you think you're overreactin'? Just a little?"

Bo glared at him, putting the truck in gear. "Leave me alone, Luke."

Not another word was said and the truck pulled out of the driveway, torn from Luke's grasp. And he stood there, watching it go, heart pounding in his chest.

General rumbled again. "I get that he was upset but did y'all hear what he said to me?"

"No, what?" Daisy asked concernedly.

"He said 'get outta here, I don't need you right now.' Is that what he really thinks of me? I'm still just a car?"

"Oh, General. He didn't mean that. I'm sure he didn't. He was just upset is all."

General shook himself. "What's got him so worked up anyway?"

"Him and Luke got into a pretty nasty argument. Some things were said and he got mad and stormed off. To tell you the truth, though, I don't really blame him."

"We're gonna go after him, ain't we? I mean, there's a madman out there fixin' to kill him."

"He said he wanted to be left alone," Luke argued, turning back toward them.

"But you're gonna go find him anyway," Jesse said, giving him a look.

Luke nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And when you do find him, I want you to apologize for bein' the jackass you were, and bring him back home. Ya hear?"

Again, Luke nodded with another "yes, sir," and climbed into General's driver's seat. And they too took off.

Tears clouded his vision as he drove, which he worked furiously to keep at bay, wiping his face and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He wasn't even sure of where he was going. He was just driving. Endlessly, mindlessly. Just to get away. He didn't even care to pay attention to the road that much. As much as he should have.

Without even knowing what had happened at first, he found the truck being rammed and careening off into the ditch. Weeds were illuminated by the truck's headlights as it fell into the ditch, smashing its front against the opposite shoulder.

He hit the steering wheel, ducking down and covering his head to protect himself in case the windshield shattered, only emerging after the truck had settled in its grave. The driver's side had taken most of the initial impact, Bo found, so he struggled through the cab, climbing out on the passenger's side. He coughed a couple of times, rubbing his chest where the steering wheel had bruised it. He stumbled into the ditch, landing in the water that sat at the bottom. As he staggered to his feet, he saw a black sedan resting in the roadway, and his heart quickened.

Without a second thought, he turned towards the outside of the ditch where a barbed wire fence protected a field. Aptly, he climbed through it, barbs scratching his skin and tugging at his clothes. Within moments, he was running, across the field and into the grove of trees that lay to the west. The night air was crisp to his lungs and his heart was pounding in his ears. The fear was perhaps the worst part, though. It made his adrenaline spike, his thoughts went haywire. All he could think about was Andy's body, lying there in the alley, pale and stiff with words carved into the skin of his stomach. His big, round eyes faded from death, glassed over. The pain he must have endured.

He stumbled over a tree root, hitting his hands and knees. He scrambled against the trunk of a tree, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing. It was hard to listen to his surroundings with his heart still pounding in his ears but nevertheless, he tried.

And there were footsteps. They were heavy and uneven and they were getting closer and closer. Slowly, he lowered his hand from his mouth, stealing a glance around the trunk of the tree he sat against. However, he found the grove to be empty. Perhaps it'd all just been in his head. Standing, he took a few tentative steps out from behind his tree, looking all around. The grove was dark, albeit, still silent. It seemed to be safe, anyway. Finally breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped away from the sanctity of the tree.

Just then, a large hand clamped itself over his mouth, another bracing against his middle. He let out a muffled scream, twisting and trying to pull away. A bolt of fear went through him as he struggled, scratching at the hands, trying to pull them off, trying to get away. But they held him, tight against a solid form behind him. His heart raced, he began to grow light-headed, dizzy. Whoever it was, their hand smelled, a sickly sweet smell that sent his mind reeling.

There was a laugh in his ear, ugly and deep. "You're a fast runner," the voice said. "Good thing I planned for that."

His movements grew sluggish, limbs growing weak. Before he knew it, he was no longer holding himself up, his eyelids were growing heavy. And the world left him.

General rolled along the backroads, going every which way he could, trying to find the lost Duke boy. As the miles added up, Luke suggested this place and that, but none of them even showed signs of him having been there.

Finally, he said, "Let's try headin' east towards the Boar's Nest, maybe he went there to cool off or somethin'."

General rumbled and turned, going as directed. That is, until a mile into the eastern drive, they both saw it, and General slammed on his brakes. Luke climbed out quickly, walking to the vehicle. The engine was still running, the lights still on, albeit flickering and struggling to stay alight. The driver's side was smashed, the door dented in, streaks of black paint embedded into the dirty white. He went to the window, finding the cab empty. Dejected, he pushed in the lights, reaching inside for the CB.

Meanwhile, General shone his lights onto the dirt road, seeing the dark tracks where the dirt had been loosened by tires speeding away. "Got tracks over here," the Charger announced.

"Oh yeah? What kind?" Luke asked, not paying attention to him.

"Looks like a sedan, guessin' by the width and spacin'. And the tire tread's for street tires, probably wouldn't see much of that on a truck, or a car like me," General explained, twisting a tire into the dirt as he said this.

"Ye- wait, how d'you know that?"

General shifted on his suspension. "I'm a car. It's like sayin' someone's tall 'cause they've got big feet."

"Can you tell me make and model too?"

"Now ain't the time to be sarcastic, Luke."

Luke rolled his eyes. "So there was another car here, what's that tell us?"

"Well, I'd say that there was an accident, but I know better." There was a moment of silence between them. "We're both thinkin' it, Luke, no point in tryin' to deny it."

Luke turned away from him, punching the truck body with a frustrated growl. He sighed, shaking his head. "How're you so calm?"

"Self-control."

He nodded. "Right." He reached back into the truck cab, bringing the CB mic up to his mouth, voice shaking. "Uncle Jesse? Daisy? I got some bad news for ya."