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Hazzard County G.A. *Outside Town Sherrifs department* 10:42 PM

"Who are you?!" Rosco P. Coltrane asked turning to a darkly dressed man who had invited himself to sit in the chair arcrossed from the office desk.

"Allen Fargo..." A sarcastic grin twicthed on the mans face as his thoughts wondered about the corny looking sherrif.

"I'm looking for a man...my 'sources' tell me he came here almost a year ago." The sarcastic grin could no longer be hiddin.

"Whats your business with this...man that you talked of?" Rosco asked whipping the droplets of swet from his head.

"I need to talk to him about his inheritance." The man lied his evil grey eyes hidding it.

"Whats the name?" Rosco slurred.

"He's called Riddick...I'm not sure of his real name. His enitials are T.M.C."

"Khee..sure I know him." Rosco stuttered for a second then continued. "He's a wondering person...Khee...hes friends with Cooter Davenport! awe...Riddick spends lots of time at Cooters garage." The sherrif slurred with excitment.

The stranger got to his feet and headed for the door thanking the sherrif with the same sarcastic grin.

"Now you...be carefull of that Riddick...he gives me a quiver in the liver." Rosco said putting a hand to the spot on his head where he had recieved a bump on the head from the x-convict awhile back.

"I'll do that." The friendly stranger nodded his head as he opened the door to the office and left.

Rosco shook his head, the stranger had to be absulutely out of his mind to come looking for Riddick. Of all people, Riddick was not at all friendly exspecially around someone he had no aquantence with.

Meanwhile Riddick was doing some visiting of his own, he had had suspicions of the 1968" navy blue Z-28 in town. It looked alittle too fimilar, he shook the thought of possibilities of who it could have been and concentrated on the car he leaned against. Cooter stood acrossed from him his head down close to the engine, Riddick looked down at the old engine, shirtless with black paint and boots. His pearl like eyes reflecting the slightest of light in the dim lighted room and his blad head dark in the light. Cooter raised his head when he herd the bell on the office door ring of service.

"Be right back." Cooter said and disapeared into the office.

The darkly dressed stranger stood leaning against the wall of the office smoking a dreadfully smelling cigar. He blew a puff of fowl smoke through his nose and grinned letting more escape through his teeth.

"Hello." The strangers voice was sarcatic as he looked at the mechanic.

"Howdy, how can I be of service?" Cooter asked friendly like.

Cooter was not suprised by the strangers appearence, it wasnt unusal for a stranger from the city to pass through Hazzard and have him work on there car.

"I'm looking for someone I was told I could probibly find here. People call him Riddick." He smothered the cigar with the toe of his boot on the floor after dropping it there.

"Sure, sure. Come on." Cooter said waving to him to follow him into the first stall of the garage.

Riddick stood up strait from looking at the engine when he herd Cooter enter the stall, following Cooter was a darkly dressed man who Riddick knew all too well. A wave of warning came over Riddicks body and he reacted faster then Fargo had ever seen him.

"Fargo..." Riddicks voice was low and cold.

Fargo drew his gun from his jacket pocket and aim it at Riddick firing of two shots quickly. The first bullet hitting the windsheild only inches from Riddicks head the second shot grazing Riddicks upper sholder muscle just below his neck.

In an instant Riddick was gone, running deeper into the darkness of the garage purposely knocking things over to slow the professional bounty hunter hot on his trail. Riddick could not risk Cooters life again, he dove through the back window the glass cutting into his bare skin and making a tremulous shatter.

He landed flat on his chest getting up as quickly as possible, letting the broken glass fall to the ground as he made his run deep into the pure darkness. The cold autumn air nipped at Riddicks lungs as he ran deep into the dense trees circling two of them then returning to the first and climbing high into it terribly wounded.

Fargo tracked Riddick with a flash light, he followed the small drop of blood on the leaves and some foot prints in the mud. Although a professional, Fargo was thrown off his tracking and branched off giving up. He had stirred up his prey, this would make his job more difficult. Fargo cussed at himself for jumping the gun on his animal of prey, if this monster layed low it would takes many more weeks to find him or wait for him to come out of hidding.

(Cue Anyone!)

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*The next morning*

"Cooter?" Bo Dukes voice echoed through the garage as he stepped in followed by Luke.

"Yeah I'm back here under the truck." Cooter responded his voice muffled from under the old ford truck he was working on.

The two Dukes closed the door behind them and ventured into the garage to see there old friend. Luke and Bo looked down through the ngine of the truck and grinned at the greasy fae the mechanic.

"Hows it going?" Luke asked.

A cool breeze blew in from behind the truck where the broken window stood unchanged from the night before. Bo looked around wondering where the cold air had come from, usually the garage was warm and cosey. He wandered to the window and looked out with Luke looking on from the side of the truck.

"What happened to the window Cooter." Luke asked with a serious tone and alittle worry.

Cooter climbed out from under the truck whipping his hands on a greasy rag while shaking his head with a shamefull look on his face.

"A fella came here last night, I thought he was just another customer. He was looking for Riddick who was here when the guy came a calling. Like a fool I led that city man right into the same room and Riddick and he opened fire on him. I havent seen either of them since, Riddick made a run for it and that fella followed." Cooter's old friendly smile was gone, he was concerned about the safety of the ex-con that he had befriended.

"Awe Cooter..." Bo patted the mechanic on the back.

"I'm sure Riddicks alright. Hes a big boy he can take care of himself." Bo continued to convince his friend.

"Do you know which way Riddick went Cooter?" Luke asked alittle concerned.

"Same way he comes here everyday." Cooter approached the window and pointed towards the old woods patched in pines. "Those ol' woods."

"Come on Bo." Luke said waving his cousin to follow him.

Bo nodded and followed his older cousin outside and towards the woods. At the edge of the woods Luke stoped suddenly, Bo nearly running into the back of him. Wordlessly with intentions of being quiet Luke knealed down and pointed at some leaves on the ground with dark dried blood. Again Luke stood up and waved for his younger cousin to follow, Bo did with caustion, Riddick was one person he didnt trust at all. The two Duke boys ventured depper into the woods, looking all around them for any sight of the massive ex-convict.

"Riddick?" Luke yelled annoucing there presence. "Its Bo and Luke Duke, Cooter sent us to find you?" Luke stopped and looked all around when he came to some large trees.

They didnt see hide nor' hair of Riddick and the tracks on the round had become too confusing to follow. Some of the tracks went back towards the way they had come, other tracks circled round and round never seeming to end.

"Cooters worried about you Riddick." Bo shouted, his voice almost failing him.

"He is huh?.." Riddick big low voice echoed dangerously.

He had spent the night in the tree, tending to his wounds and awaiting for a safe time to climb down and return to the garage. Bo and Luke looked all around them, the voice echoing and having no definant direction.

"Yeah..." Even Luke fumbled with his words unsure what to say. "Cooter told us what happened. Are you alright?" Luke asked trying not to choke on his own words, there was no doubt in his mind that Riddick was more then OK.

"I'm awlright." Riddicks voice dropped in tone threatening to betray him.

"Where are you?" Bo asked keeping himself calm.

"Turn around." Riddick answered.

Bo and Luke turned around at the same time, facing a large old Oak tree. Riddick sat about 12 feet up on a large lim leaning against the main part of the tree. Shirtless the dried blood showed clearly on his sholder and the vuts on his head from the glass.

(Cue anyone!)

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  • 5 weeks later...

Bo gave a nervous smile. "Howdy, uh...up there," he said.

Luke smiled too, more or less to try to show that he and Bo were not any threat to Riddick, they only wanted to help. His expression then turned serious as he recognized the cuts and wounds Riddick had. "Don't you think Doc Appleby should treat those cuts? They look kinda deep..."

(cue Riddick!)

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Riddick sent the Dukes away, he refused there plead for him to be treated by a Doctor and roamed Hazzard for a time. He knew that Allen would be taking some time off, so he did the same as well.


It was shortly after the sun had settled, Riddick had been sitting on a tree stump in the woods just behind Cooters garage. Cooter was there on this weekday, loaded down with the usuall fix up jobs and a couple extras. But this wasnt one of his average days, Cooter leaned over the fron of a truck working on it like he would have any other day, but this time he was waiting for someone.

Sweat roled in heavy drops off the mechanics face, he wasnt only hot but very nervous. He had only met the person he waited for once before and it hadnt been pleasant. Cooter had met Allen Fargo once before and it had nearly coast one of his friends lives.

Riddick had asured Cooter that Allen would show up at the garage at 5:45pm on Thurdays, Cooter had agreed alittle unwilling to follow through with Riddicks plan and point Fargo in the right direction. Cooter looked at his watch, 5:40, anytime now he knew that Fargo would be along to fall into Riddicks trap.

Calmly Riddick waited, he stood next to the garage in the days diming light and covred by the corner of the building. As he had planned Fargo was right on time, following the trail of crumbs he had left for the bounty hunter. Fargo approached Riddick with slik caution, looking all around himself momentarly then questioned the mechanic.

"Where can I find a white X in the pavement?" fargo asked with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

Cooter didnt raise from under the hood and only pointed a finger towards the end of the street and was relieved when Fargo continue to walk. Cooter watched him out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see waht was ognna happen, Riddick hadnt told him his hole plan.

Fargo walked with his eyes to the ground, slowly coming to the corner of the building unaware of the eyes watching him from there. Suddenly, so quickly that it was just a blurr, Riddick sprang from the corner of the building and behind Fargo. He wrapped his thick left arm around the bounty hunters chest and pressed the razor sharp shiv to the mans neck. The pressure of the sharp shiv brought a trickle of blood from the slightly severed skin. The bounty hunter quivered, he knew all too well who stood behind.

(Thanks MA. Cue Anyone. :) )

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Fargo stood as still as possible, feeling the blade piercing his skin. He gripped Riddick's hand that held the knife trying to keep it pulled back from his neck and held the other arm that was tightly wrapped around his chest. There was no mistaking who was behind him and he spoke through gritted teeth.

"C'mon, Riddick...slicing a throat is too messy and if they find me dead in this hick town they'll know you did it. The mechanic's seen me, he knows I've been looking for you. I'm not the first to be coming after you, and I won't be the last..." Allen pulled Riddick's hand as far away from his neck as possible and then kicked a heavy boot back into Riddick's shin, squirming to release the ex-convict's hold on him.

(cue Riddick!)

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Riddick didnt release Fargo when he was stricken in the shin, he bit back the pain and grasped the man around the neck with the arm that had been around his chest. His hand hold the shiv went to the bounty hunters flabby stomach and the point bit into opening him up with a three in gash. Allen Fargo would have doubled over at the pain in his stomach, but the tight arm around his neck stopped him and forced him to concentrate on breathing.

"Hit me again....an you'll die a painfull death." Riddick breathed angerly into Fargos ear.

In a burst of anger Riddick through Fargo on the ground and deeper into the dark alley where no one would easily see or hear the happenings about to take place. Hunched on his knees Fargo grasped his throat with one hand and covered the gruesome wound on his stomach, as he coughed for air. Riddick stepped forward quickly and pounded his big fist into the mans heaving side, the awesome blow to the side sent Fargo rolling twice around coming to a pain filled stopon his side. Seconds later he was wrenched up by his collar, Riddick raised him up from the ground a foot or so and dragged him behind the building.

With a last attempt, an while being dragged acrossed the ground Fargo fumbled with a small swiss army knife from his pocket just barely able to open it as Riddick thrust him into the rear of the building. Barely able to breath at all Allen Fargo crumbled against the old red brick bulling in the shadow of his fierce attacker.

Riddick grasped Fargo by the front of his shirt with one hand, the muscles in his arms and chest taught with angery and pure hatred. He drew his fist back releasing it like a streched rubber band, Fargo took his chances and struck out at Riddick with the small knife. Drawing it down his attackers breast muscles an rock hard abdomen and raising the knife up again, sticking the blade into the soft innerflesh of Riddicks elbow. Fargo released the knife stuck into his attackers flesh, sinking back as he still recieved a direct blow between his eyes and darkens threatened his mind.

Blood washed over Riddicks chest and abdomen where the large lasseration lay the skin wide open. The knife in his arm pearced through the thick veins there, on impulse he wripped the knife from his maimed flesh and clasped his big hand over the wound wincing at the terrible pain. The deep red blood dripped to the light colored dirt in a drizzle like a spring rain as Riddick lost blood with a growing steadiness. Angered to his peek, pained to exstent, Riddick returned to his job that leaned against the wall winning away the darkness.

(cue MaryAnne)

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Fargo lifted a leg and kicked out with all his strength, a heavy boot hitting Riddick square in his already wounded abdomen. Riddick buckled momentarily from the blow. Fueled with nothing more than the adrenline for the fight to survive, Fargo pushed back against the wall of the building, stood up straight and drew a hard right cross point blank to Riddick's chin.

"I may die a painful death you sonofa*****, but I'm damn well gonna be taking you with me!!" Ignoring the pain from the wound to his stomach, Fargo lunged at Riddick and pushed the big ex-convict back against a stack of boxes, old auto parts and rusted automobile fenders. The noise was defeaning as the two men crashed through the debris.

Fargo stumbled back to his feet and in the faint moonlight saw the shell of an old car door. He quickly picked it up and threw it down upon Riddick.

Fargo's wounds were now screaming for his attention. Riddick was struggling to push the metal door off of him. And Cooter was coming around the back of the building to see what was going on.

The light flashed in Fargo's eyes from Cooter's flashlight as the bounty hunter turned. "Hey! What the---" Cooter hardly had a chance to finish when Fargo pushed the mechanic out of the way and to the ground, making his escape out of the alley.

Cooter sprung up like a shot but didn't go after the stranger. Instead he turned his attention to Riddick. He pulled the door off Riddick and shined the light over the wounds Riddick had sustained.

With no time to spare, Cooter ran back to the garage and found the first aid kit. It wouldn't be much, but it would be better than nothing. He returned to Riddick and tried to do something for his friend.

"Riddick? Riddick, talk to me buddy. Who is that guy? What does he want with you??"

(Cue Riddick)

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"He wants me Cooter." Riddick said sitting up, he held a rag to wide open wounds.

Cooter looked at his friend with a questioning exspression, he didnt understand really but just the same he kneeled next to Riddick putting pressure on the hole in his arm. Flusterated Riddick pushed Cooters hands away gentally and got to his feet in an angery sharp notion, but not towards Cooter.

"Thanks Cooter but you better get outta here before someone comes runnin." Riddick said in a low voice, his white pupils shinning in the darkness.

"I cant....you need to see a doctor your bleeding bad."

Riddick only shook his head dismissing the idea, resentfully Cooter rolled up the rag that Riddick had forced back into his hands and tied it around the ex-cons arm to sinch the bleeding.

"Go...please..." Riddick said excepting the rag around his arm.

Although it was against his better judgement Cooter turned away from his friend with his head hung low, he was not angery at his friend but he didnt understand the mans foolishness. Cooter turned around quickly to plead once more to Riddick to come back with him, but Riddick was gone he had disapeared into the darkness. With a fluttering stomach of worry Cooter climbed into his toe truck and drove away towards his farm since his nights work was done.

Angery at himself for letting Fargo get away Riddick ventured into the darkness, he could still feel the blood dripping heavely from his chest and the pain there ached him. The memories of what Fargo had put him through pained him even more, it had been Fargo who took away his sight and his chance of ever being a normal person again. Fargo had sent him to slam where his punishment was a gorey surgery that was supposed to leave him blind and rendered but, instead it left him like this. A monster to himself, a danger to all who knew him and a hell raising murder.

(More to come)

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Lost deep in his memories, his keen sences blurred by pain, Riddick neglected to hear the click of a shell going into a rifle chamber. The figure had seen the hole fight, seen it unfold and end just awaiting the chance to pick the ex-convict off. The darkly dressed figure enhanced the night vision goggles on its face and brought the long barrel of the rifle over the edge of the building. Taking carefull aim as a seasoned marksmen would, aiming at the figure trudging with his head hung low acrossed an opening towards a line of trees that led deep into dense woods.

Bush wacking was a cowardly act, the dark figure took one last look through the long scope on the gun and squeezed a gental finger on the triger. At the last possible second the bricks on the edge of the building gave way from the figures weight and the gun barrel tipped forward firing a shot only a split second before. The gun bucked in the figures arms an the shot echoed loudly through out the town. The figure raised its head quickly almost sure that it had missed its quarry and fearfull that the loud shot would alert near by people.

But to the bush wackers appeal Riddick pitched forward suddenly, his knees buckling as he summer-sulted forward and regaing his feet on pure adrenline. Not feeling any sudden pain, only the strong impact of the bullet Riddick dashed away quickly veering off deep into the woods unknowingly. He fled at a dead run, dodging trees, brush and downed logs, he glanced over his sholder momentarly and came to a crasing halt on the ground his body going completely knumb.

Riddicks body came to a bone jaring rest on his chest in a few inches of water in a small creek. Lying in the dark his back facing the sky, his head turned to the left and the side of his face lying in the shallow water. Blood leaked from around the bullet that pressed against his spine, lodged in the muscle hardened flesh of his back and the only part of his body he could feel was the uproaring pain in his back, his arms and legs were completely numb.

(Cue Brian, thanks Brian)

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It had happened too fast. By the time the loose bricks of the roof announced the sniper's presence, the shot had already been fired.

From his vantage point within the parked Chevy, Brian had witnessed Fargo's fast exit from the alley. With Diablo's window open, the sounds of the fight had carried easily. Interfering with it, however, had not been an option; Riddick may well have mistaken Brian's presence and purpose. Knowing this, Brian could only watch, and would only take action if Fargo proved the victor.

But to Brian's disconcerted surprise, Fargo wasn't working alone. No wonder the bounty hunter had been willing to leave his quarry in the alley; there had been a backup plan all along. The gunshot announced the sealing of Riddick's fate, and as the large man tumbled to the ground, Brian snatched up the CB microphone in Diablo and made a carefully-worded distress call. There were only two people in Hazzard that would understand the cryptic message, and Brian hoped at least one of them would respond.

There was no time to wait for a reply. Brian hung up the CB and got out of Diablo, one hand reaching inside his jacket for his gun. The attackers were about to find themselves under fire. Maybe Riddick was already dead, but if he wasn't, there was no way the job was going to be finished now.

Just as Brian was running towards him, Riddick scrambled up and crashed away into the woods like a mad deer. Brian quickly looked back towards the last known position of the sniper. No one could be seen....there was no instant pursuit, no second shot. The gunman may still be watching, or could be long gone....

Trusting to Coltrane luck, and to the cover of his black clothing, Brian charged after Riddick. The snapping of twigs and crunching of brush could be heard ahead. The man-made trail that Riddick was carving with brute force was easy enough to follow. Maybe he'd only been grazed by the shot; maybe it wasn't as bad as it first looked....

...until the hard, heavy thud of a body hitting the earth removed the last of Brian's optimism. A few seconds later, he saw the sight of Riddick's large body splayed in the creek, unmoving.

"Riddick?" Brian spoke quietly, not wanting to be mistaken for Fargo in case Riddick was conscious. "Riddick, it's me, Brian. I saw the whole thing...just take it easy, awright? I'm here to help ya..."

Gun still in hand, Brian approached Riddick's inert form carefully. The moonlight shown down upon the small clearing, giving the shallow creek a pale reflection of light. The steady flow blood seeping from Riddick's body spoke of the serious wounds... and Brian knelt down next to the fallen man to check for a pulse...not expecting to find one.

(cue Riddick.....)

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The feeling of being weightless fought to take over Riddicks body and mind as the chilled moving shallow water passed around him. His blood mixing with it, leaving the pale moonlit water a faint crimson. His mind and body fought back the sicking pain that the bullet created as it pressed against his spine, wedged inches deep in the flesh.

On the edge of conscious Riddick could hear a quiet voice, but he could not understand the words and he could not identify the voice. Short, painfilled breaths rasped in his throat as his chest heaved so slightly it would go unknotice to the naked eye. The short and raspy breaths puffing into the shallow water that lay close to his mouth.

Lerking inside him, a faint pulse fluttered strenuiosly to take up a rythmn in his numb body. The blood streaked down the bare skin of his back and over his ribs, leaking into the water in a thick stream of its own. Riddick's numb body unaware of the stream of blood, his minds full attention on the furious pain in his chest and back.

The rest of his large body lay in the cold water, numb to the dark world that surrounded him and the rest of his wounds oblivious to the pressing bullet. The sound of nearing feet echoing in his ears, the voice that had called out to him uneknowledgable. Riddicks mind felt the natural need to get up and run, not knowing wether the approached figure was friend or foe.

Meanwhile, a dark figure dashed through the alley climbing down from the roof of a building only moments before. The sniper walked out into the opening just on the edge of the woods, a small flashlight pointed towards the ground. Coming to the area where Riddick had tumbled then regained his feet the sniper poised the light on the unturned dirt. The light colored dirt showed the large amount of blood Riddick had lost on impact.

Nodding at the blood the figure pressed on following its trail slowly through the woods, loosing the blood marks and having to back track several times. The worry of only a graze was shed in the snipers mind, large spots of blood proved more then a graze. But just the same the tracking was not easy in the dark and the sniper faltied time and time again.

(cue Brian)

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Carefully, Brian pressed two fingertips to the side of Riddick's neck. The pulse, weak and fickle, was just enough to prove that life remained in the wounded body...but it wasn't going to last long at the going rate.

"Riddick, man...we gotta get you outta here," Brian muttered. "Movin' you might make things worse...but stayin' in the creek ain't helpin' ya either."

Decision made, Brian put his gun away within the jacket pocket. He reached beneath Riddick's arms, and lifted the torso up as gently as possible, mindful of the wound to the back. It was a bad wound and close to the spine, making any fireman's carry of the large body impossible. Instead, Brian dragged Riddick from the creek, getting him to the grassy bank that afforded dry rest.

The sudden sound of footsteps crunching over dry leaves gave Brian no time to do anything more. He eased Riddick to the turf, letting him rest stomach-down as he had been found. Whoever it was coming through the woods was going to find them in a few moments.

Brian had the nasty feeling that the pending visitor was not Rosco or MaryAnne. Every criminal instinct in his body was telling him to run like hell....

But he was the only thing standing between Riddick and death. Brian quickly drew his weapon again, took two steps back, hoping the nearby trees would protect him from the moonlight. Whoever was coming, it would be a short matter of time before they got here....

....and the unsettled question in Brian's mind, was who would see who first.

(cue Riddick)

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A deep audioable exhale came from within Riddick's chest as Brian lifted him as gentally as possible. The pain could not get any worse, even during the change in poistion of his back while being carried it did not gain strength and neighter did Riddick. His mind was retreating from the feirce pain, slipping into the darkness even further.

The sniper had taken up Riddicks path now and drew increasingly closer to the creek by the minute. Not showing any signs of slowing or giving up and turning back. Suddenly a ray of light from the flash light peeked through the the brush and trees coming closer with the ray pointed to the ground. The sudden static of a radio echoed through the silent woods, then a pained voice came on, blerting out cusses and stressed words.

"Dammit Anderson haven't you found him yet?!" Came Allen Fargo's voice over the walkie talkie that the sniper carried at his side.

"No I've lost his trail, but theres puddles of blood everywhere." The sniper, Anderson Jackson relayed back to Fargo with a baratone voice.

"Leave him then dammit Anderson! I'm leaking blood like a sive, get back here and give me a hand!" Fargo shouted with his stressed voice into the hand held radio.

Before Fargo's words had stopped echoing through the deathly silent woods Anderson had turned on his heal guided by his light and back tracked in the direction that he had come. His light swayed back an forth, flickering through the trees as he grew further and further away from Riddicks still form accompanied by the watchfull eyes of Brian still kneeling in his dark clothing.

It had been too close of a call, if the sniper, now known as Anderson, if he had taken just a few more steps forward out of the protection of the trees he could have spotted Brian and Riddick. A small cloud passed over the near full moon hazing the paleness for a moment then returning its faithfull light to look down apon the two men. The unknoticed stars twinkled brightly in the night sky showing clearly to those who looked, the consulation of the great warrior Oryan surveyed the earth with ever lasting eyes.

(Cue Brian)

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The retreating footsteps of the sniper - who Brian now knew as Dammit Anderson - faded into the distance. Having overhead the radio transmission between Fagro and Anderson, Brian realized how close the sniper had come to finding them. Coltrane luck had held out again.

His attention returned to Riddick. Something had to be done, and fast. MaryAnne or Rosco might have found Diablo by now, but with Fargo and Anderson being nearby, there was no risking firing a shot to flag down the law. He had to get Riddick to Diablo....but how? The big ox was too badly wounded to attempt hauling in a fireman's carry, not to mention the man's considerable weight. Brian would do neither of them any good if he collapsed under Riddick between here and the car.

Leaving Riddick to go seek help wasn't an option, either. Brian knew he may not find him again in these woods.

The woods....as Brian glanced around, he found inspiration in the dead branches that were scattered everywhere. Quickly, he snapped the saftey on his gun, and tucked it into the back waist of his jeans. He removed his jacket next, laying it on the ground, the back of the jacket flat to the earth. It was a crazy idea, but it was all he had...

He rattled through the dead branches until he found two large, thick tree limbs that would serve the purpose. Working fast, he snapped off the small twigs from the main section of each branch. He had to chance the noise; he was losing time as it was. The branches were clean in a matter of seconds, and though neither of them were perfectly straight pieces of timber, Brian managed to slide them into the sleeves of the open jacket. He stretched the jacket open as wide as the sleeves would allow.

Next, Brian lifted beneath Riddick's shoulders and lifted him onto the open jacket, gently turning him over to his back. The thick leather jacket cushioned the wounded back somewhat, and offered warmth to the wounded body.

Brian then removed his own shirt. It was one of his nicer black shirts, being long-sleeved and having small, onyx-colored buttons. But right now, it had a more important purpose than fashion. Brian stretched the shirt sleeves open wide, then flipped the shirt over a few times until it was wound like a long strip of cloth. He used it to secure Riddick's torso to the makeshift travois, carefully sliding it under the back of the jacket, tying the sleeves across the top of Riddick's chest.

Lastly, Brian took off his belt, using it to loop the end of the thick branches together right beneath Riddick's boot heels. The strip of leather would help keep the branches from moving around too much, while giving another measure of security that Riddick wouldn't slide off the thing.

Brian lifted the top of the travois up from the ground, tilting Riddick up, sparing the wounded back from being dragged over the earth. Brian tucked the large branches under his bare arms, and held them in a locked grip as his legs powered forward, one stride at a time. Riddick's weight was leveraged by the angle of the travois, making it possible to move him without compounding the injuries.

It was still a jarring, bumpy ride as the travois was dragged forward. Brian took care to avoid the worst of the rocks and larger branches on the ground; but some of them couldn't be helped. Nor could he avoid for himself the cut of branches against his bare chest and shoulders. He ducked his head down and pulled the burden at the best pace he could make. He sincerely hoped his earlier distress call had been heard...

...because niether he nor Riddick were out of the woods yet. Literally.

(Cue MaryAnne )

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Riddick's tactic of taking his fight with Fargo to the alley behind Cooter's garage had served at least one purpose. Rosco and MaryAnne were oblivious to what was going on. It wasn't until they heard the gunshots that the Sheriff and his deputy sprung to action.

In the darkness that covered the town square, however, very little revealed itself to the Coltranes when they tried to investigate. In the time it took them to come outside to see what was going on, the action had moved itself into the woods just beyond the garage and town. Rosco had turned to MaryAnne and told her to go get one of the patrol cars and to bring the bright spot light with her. He then continued on into the darkness with nothing more than his flashlight and pearl handled pistol drawn at the ready.

Rosco ended up following the trail of Fargo's sniper, Anderson. The Sheriff saw the blood droplets on the ground, followed them and then eventually caught site of Anderson's own flashlight within the darkness. Quickly, Rosco shut his flashlight off and ducked behind a tree and kept an eye on the light of Anderson that was several yards ahead of him.

MaryAnne in the meantime had heard Brian's cryptic distress call and was bringing the patrol car down the road slowly and as quietly as possible. The bright spot light remained off, the car itself was lit only with parking lamps and she had the window down, to listen for any sounds. She eventually found Diablo and pulled her patrol car up behind it.

When Anderson's radio screeched, Rosco had held his breath to listen. MaryAnne too, heard it, but was too far away to make out what was being said. When Anderson acknowledged the transmission and turned back around to back track his steps, Rosco held himself flat against the tree he was hiding behind, until the stranger walked past him.

He waited until Anderson was several yards away before turning his flashlight back on and continuing into the woods. He found more blood droplets and followed them until he heard the sound of twigs snapping off of branches. He listened for a moment and then continued following the path of blood until he reached the gentle trickling water of the creek and his trail came to an end.

Rosco frowned. Whoever it was that had been wounded was probably in the creek and if they hadn't succumbed to their wounds, they more than likely drowned and there'd be no sign of them until morning. He pondered this a moment and then heard more rustling sounds somwhere behind him. He turned slowly, bringing the flashlight upward to scan the immediate area.

From the road, MaryAnne saw the light in the trees. Not sure if it was Rosco, or somebody else, she stood pat near the patrol car and Diablo. Brian couldn't have been too far away.

Rosco listened to the noise and followed after it. In matter of moments, he came upon Riddick and Brian, the young Coltrane trying to drag the big burly ex-convict in a crudely made device that almost looked like a stretcher. Rosco immedidately put his gun away and came up to assist Brian.

"Brian, it's me. Rosco..."

(Cue Brian or Riddick)

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"GAH!!" Startled, Brian jumped at the voice, even though he quickly recognized it. "Aw hell, Rosco! Thanks for the free coronary...."

There was no time for the usual banter, though, and both men knew it. "Riddick took a shot in the back," Brian quickly explained. "And Lord knows how hurt he is anywhere else. If you can lift the other end of this contraption...."

Rosco was already doing so, and Riddick was soon carried level between them, the progress much faster. As Rosco and Brian hauled Riddick from the woods, Brian explained as much as he knew of the events involving Fargo and his sniper associate.

The Sheriff listened grimly, not finding optimism in any of it. As they stepped clear of the trees, each of them tensed, knowing that they might be being watched...

They were, but it was MaryAnne who spotted them. With one hand resting on the holster of her weapon, her watchful gaze scanned the area, ready to react to any threat. She saw Rosco and Brian at about the same time they saw her, and moments later, Riddick was lifted off the rustic stretcher and gently placed into the backseat of her patrol car. The cruiser, having lights and siren, was the logical choice for transport of the wounded man.

Brian began dismantling the stretcher to regain the clothing he'd sacrificed in it's construction. He listened as Rosco and MaryAnne exchanged a fast decision...

(Cue MaryAnne!)

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(sorry for steppin on ya MaryAnne)

Riddick groaned loudly as he was placed in the back if the patrol car, he hadnt been concious since he had fallen into the creek. The small jolt of being moved from Brian Coltranes comtraption to the car brought him awake to the world suddenly. He blinked his eyes moementarly unable to move, the world he saw seemed blurry and he was unsure of where he was.

(Cue MaryAnne!)

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"Can you get him to the hospital awright by yerself?" Rosco asked.

"Yeah." MaryAnne nodded.

"Awright. Git. He's countin' on your speed behind the wheel." Although Rosco wouldn't admit it, he knew he was not suited for the job. His driving would be detrimental to Riddick's condition.

"You two be careful, ya hear?"

"We will. Git on..."

"Awright..." MaryAnne got into the patrol car and started it up. Full lights came on and the gumballs turned. The Plymouth backed up and then swung around and sped off down the road.

Meanwhile, in town, Anderson had found another trail of blood droplets that led to Allen Fargo's blue '68 Camaro. The bounty hunter was sitting in the driver's seat, the door wide open and his shirt open to reveal the three inch wound Riddick had left across Fargo's stomach. Fargo had taken the first aid kit from his glove box and was holding a piece of white gauze over the wound resting...and waiting.

Anderson walked up to the car and Fargo turned his head to look at him. "It's about time you got here. Give me a hand will ya?"

Without saying anything, Anderson went about assisting Fargo with the cleaning and dressing of the wound.

"What do we do now?" Anderson asked, finishing applying tape to the dressing.

"We're going to make sure we got 'em," Fargo said.

"He could be anywhere in those woods. For all we know he's down in a ditch and dead all ready."

"Good. But we're going to make sure. I'll be damned the sumb**** can cut out half my stomach and not pay for it---ow! Watch it for cryin' out loud...."

(cue Brian!)

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As MaryAnne's patrol car sped away, Brian and Rosco watched it silently for a moment, each wishing Riddick survival. The odds weren't good, but with MaryAnne driving Riddick to the hospital, and being able to radio ahead for a trauma team...at least there was some hope.

Rosco broke the silence and turned to Brian. "I know you don't like answering police questions. But I need to know if you seen who done it."

For once, Brian didn't hesitate. "I've been watchin' that damn bounty hunter for days. Tailed 'em here tonight. I can tell ya by the noise that he n' Riddick had a scrap in the alley. Looked like Riddick got the upper hand in it, 'cause I saw that bounty hunter run from the alley holdin' his gut. Riddick came out a couple of minutes later....but before he got too far...someone planted a bullet in his back." Brian paused, and added in a troubled voice, "I didn't know that Fargo wasn't workin' alone. I'd nevah seen 'em with anybody elese in town."

Rosco listened intently. "Could ya tell where the shot came from?"

"I heard somethin' just as the shot went off, like somethin' heavy' hittin' the ground. Given that, 'n the fact Riddick took the bullet high in the back...I'd have to say somebody nailed 'em from a roof."

"Which alley?"

"There," Brian pointed. "Behind Cooter's, just a ways down."

"Awright." Rosco gave a nod, and then an order. "I'm gonna go check it out. You stay here. If I get into trouble, call for help on Diablo's CB."

"But -"

"Hush! We can't afford to both be knockin' around in that alley, and this is official police work!"

Leaving no room for arguement, Rosco stalked off, his gun holster unsnapped, his hand resting on the handle of his .38 Colt.

Brian recognized the unspoken concern in Rosco's voice, and for this reason alone, he obeyed. He also figured the bounty hunters were long gone by now, the sight of the patrol cars probably sending them off.

With nothing to do but wait and worry, Brian tried cleaning Riddick's blood from his jacket. Having been used for a stretcher, the lining was a mess, and wiping the coat against the grass did nothing. It would need to be dry cleaned....there was no putting it back on in this condition.

Which made him edgy. Brian tossed the soiled jacket into the backseat of Diablo, feeling nervous for a reason he couldn't describe. He made sure his gun was tucked into the back waistband of his black denim jeans, then finished straightening the sleeves of his black shirt. This done, he waited for Rosco, his dark eyes scanning the night for any threat....the woods silent and shadowed behind him.

(Cue....Fargo, Dammit Anderson, or Rosco, or MaryAnne!)

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The white Plymouth Fury flew along the road heading toward Tri-County. MaryAnne had called ahead to tell them she was coming and with what she was coming with. Once she had done that, she spoke softly to Riddick, although she knew he probably couldn't hear her.

"Hang on, Riddick....hang on..."

Red and blue lights shined in the night as the car sped along...

Rosco, meanwhile, had made it back to Cooter's garage and was cautiously looking upwards to the rooftop of the building and the building ajacedent to it that housed Rheubottom's General Store. Rosco figured to look there first. He found the fire escape at the back of Rhuebottom's and shoved his flashlight into his gunbelt before pulling himself up the ladder and shimmying upward. He made it to the landing and then climbed up the stairs to the roof top. Using his flashlight, Rosco swept the light down by his feet and investigated, walking toward the edge of the rooftop.

He found a spent shell casing from a rifle. As he walked closer to the edge of the roof, he discovered where the edge of the roof had started to give way.

While the Sheriff was investigating the rooftop, just a block away from him Fargo was giving orders to Anderson.

"All right," the bounty hunter said, tossing the remains of the med kit back into the Camaro's glove box. "You're driving." He climbed from the Camaro with some difficulty and walked around the back side, pulling the passenger door open. Anderson put his rifle into the backseat and got into the driver seat. A moment later, the sound of two doors slamming echoed in the square. The Camaro's engine turned over and bright headlights came on. The car prowled down the road, past Cooter's and Rhuebottom's.

From the roof top, Rosco watched the car as it headed down the road where Diablo was parked....

(cue Brian)

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The sound of the approaching car gave short warning. The high beams of the blue Camaro swung around the corner, and headed straight for the spot where Riddick had entered the woods. The headlights found more, however, than the car's occupants had been looking for. The broad chrome grill of another late-model Chevy stared back at the Camaro...the parked Impala being too close to the scene of Riddicks' fall for coincidence.

The blinding glare of the Camaro's headlights had Brian at a disadvantage. He couldn't see inside of the Camaro, and had no idea who he was dealing with...or how many. But he had the awful feeling that Fargo and company had not left town as he'd hoped.

There would be no ducking and running now that he'd been seen. Brian waited next to Diablo, affecting an air of indifference, as if standing around at the edge of the woods this time of the night was the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps too, he could get some information. It wasn't like the bounty hunters had been after him, anyway.

This confidence was shaken by the fact that there was a broad smear of blood in the grass where Brian had tried getting the worst of it off his jacket. The two large branches that had served as stretcher poles were also nearby. But worst of all, Brian realized, were the dried bloodstains on his hands from moving Riddick's wounded body. It wasn't going to look good.

As the doors to the Camaro opened, Brian squinted against the glare of the headlights, and considered drawing his gun for the hell of it. But he didn't have his jacket; and the gun tucked in the back waist of his jeans would take an obvious, telegraphing motion to draw. He just wasn't as fast this way; no one was, when they had to reach behind their back.

Having little defense, Brian chose an obnoxious offense. He gave a lazy wave to the men who stood by the Camaro, and spoke to them in the thickest drawl he could produce. "If ya'll are lookin' for the Tastee Freeze, it's about eee-leven miles north a' heah."

(Cue Fargo and Dammit Anderson!)

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Fargo and Anderson both gave dry chuckles. Anderson casually removed the rifle from the backseat of the Camaro and walked with Fargo toward the dark-dressed young man. Fargo paused a moment to look Brian over, while Anderson stepped slowly around the black Chevy, looking around the outside of the car and occasionally glancing inside of it.

"Tastee Freeze..." Fargo said blandly. "Don't you think you should be there instead of hanging around in the woods here tonight?"

(cue Brian!)

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"That's a helluva idea," Brian drawled. "In fact, ah think ah'll just be headin' out there now, n' leave you boys to your...."

Brian paused, noting the rifle in Anderson's hands. "...deerhuntin'," he said with a smile. "Good luck, y'all."

With that, Brian turned his back to Diablo's driver's side, hiding the pistol he had tucked in the back waist of his jeans. He reached back as if to open Diablo's door handle....

(Cue Fargin'... I mean, Fargo n' Dammit Anderson!)

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The business end of Anderson's rifle suddenly jabbed Brian in his left shoulder.

"I'm afraid that's not going to do you any good," Fargo said, holding his hand against Brian's right shoulder. "Ya see most of the Tastee Freeze's in this part of the country close at 11pm. We're just a hair past that now..." Fargo suddenly grabbed Brian by the front of his shirt and turned him to face the back roof panel of the Chevy. Brian was immediately relieved of his pistol and held against the car.

"And I'm afraid this isn't going to do you any good either...." Fargo looked at the gun in his hand and then at Anderson.

"There's blood stains in the grass just over there," Anderson said.

"That so?" Fargo looked Brian. "Perhaps Johnny in Black here knows something about that....eh?"

(Cue Johnny in Bla---er Brian!)

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Tension filled Brian's voice, though he kept the drawl thick. "Ah have no damn idea what you're talkin' about. And I ain't hangin' around out heah alone, you @%&*$#, so now's your last chance to leave before it's too late."

Brian said nothing else, but turned his head slightly to glare over his shoulder. His dark eyes held a dire threat as he gazed at Fargo, the hate for the bounty hunter unable to be disguised.

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