This is my first attempt at Dukes of Hazzard fanfiction, so I hope I've done justice to the characters. I don't own anything!
I recently moved back to the city for school. As somebody who has grown up on a farm her whole life, it's a big change. I was feeling a bit homesick and figured the 'Duke boys' would be a good way to channel my feelings. I don't usually write angsty fics but I figured I'd give it a shot.
Of course, reviews are always welcome! Thank you for reading.
The sun was barely above the horizon when Bo found himself jolted awake by the ringing of the alarm clock in his ear. He sighed, swatted at the beside table, vainly trying to shut off the insistent ringing.
"Luke, turn the darn thing off, will ya?" he muttered sleepily, head already back on his pillow. He turned towards the wall, just as the rooster began to crow from the barn, nearly as loud as the alarm clock. Bo sat up, rubbed his eyes. Figured that he had got all the sleep he was going to get.
"Luke?" No answer. Curiously, Bo padded his way over to his cousin's bed, flicking on the lamp on the bedside table on his way past. There's no Luke in his bed. Instead, the bed is neatly made; pillow in place, sheets perfectly squared, no wrinkles. An odd remnant of Luke's time in the Marines and a skill Bo knew he would never possess.
Bo frowned. It was a little past four in the morning and there were very few places Luke could be. Of course, knowing Luke, there was a reason for wherever he was, probably involving a lengthy and confusing explanation. Bo shrugged as he pulled on his clothes. Luke or no Luke, barn chores were waiting, and Uncle Jesse would have his hide if the cows weren't milked and eggs not collected.
Bo slipped out the back door and headed towards the barn, dew still clinging to the too-long grass. He kicked a leather toe of his boot through it, frowning. There was always something that needed to be done around the farm—fences to be replaced, fields to be plowed, crops to be tended to. Not to mention the from the General. Bo winced, thinking about their latest run-in with Roscoe—an unfortunate 'misunderstanding' had ended up in a chase through Farmer Johnson's cornfield.
Bo made his way into the barn, picking up the pitchfork and wheelbarrow on his way in. He paused. Something felt odd in the barn—something Bo couldn't quite put a finger on. A chill runs down his spine, despite the dusty, humid air that envelopes the barn. Bo ran a hand through his curly blond hair, shaking his head. It was just the barn, mustier then usual. Bo and Luke had spent the past few days cutting, raking and baling hay for the winter and finally, yesterday evening brought it in.
Luke. Bo felt a flicker of annoyance. Where was his dumb cousin anyways? If he was stuck doing chores all by himself, he was going to be a fit to be tied. It wasn't the first time Luke had left him either—Luke and his ideas, Bo thought mutinously while he mucked out the goat pen. Probably off somewhere, thinking and lost track of time. It wasn't unusual for Luke to have some grand idea in the middle of the night.
Bo coughed, wiped his brow. The barn felt stuffy and now, there was another smell in the air. Something out of place, that made Bo's heart beat wildly once he recognized it.
Bo threw the pitchfork against the wall, vaulted over the wall partition. The smell is stronger now, he's certain, the air thick and heavy.
The hay. Bo's heart skipped a beat as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Luke had said something about it being—what did he say? Too green?
Where was Luke? Bo head spun as he coughed, his hands on his knees. He knew he needed to get out, now, wake up Uncle Jesse, call in Hazzard's poor excuse for a fire department—one truck and Roscoe with a bucket. As the smoke thickened, Bo opened the door to the goat pen and hurried them out. The chickens squawk from across the barn corridor while beads of sweat roll down Bo's forehead. He glanced up and saw for the first time, the orange flicker of flames from the hayloft, engulfing the bales.
What if…what if Luke was in the barn?
The thought filled Bo just as he was about to rush out. He paused. If Luke was in the barn, he would have noticed the fire. Luke wasn't stupid. He would have gotten out. For all Bo knew, he was standing outside the barn, muttering 'what's taking you so long cuz?'
Bo reached for the door, his lungs burning with smoke and ash when he heard it.
A muffled cry.