Bo and Luke spotted the submerged patrol car, fearing the Sheriff was still inside. Well they know Rosco can be a pain in their backsides but he still didn't deserve this. To all of them it was just all fun and games. Nobody ever meant anybody any real harm. Today they just thought it was going to be like every other day, just another normal chase. It was normal for Rosco's car to go into the lake a few times. But this time there was a feeling that hung in the air, an unpleasant feeling, like you were standing on somebody's grave.

Bo remembered something and it hit him like a ton of bricks. Rosco couldn't swim. "Rosco." Bo shouted, running down the dirt slop toward the water. Luke followed his cousin. Rosco shoulda been out of there by now. Maybe he had the windows rolled up and was trapped. "He'd be trapped in there." He blurted out. They both dove in the water. Luke swam to the passenger side as Bo climbed onto the cruiser. He moved to the driver's side. The cousins both pulled themselves down under the water. Bo couldn't see through the murky water, neither could Luke. The water stung Luke's eyes he had to come up.

"Any sign of him Luke?" Bo asked. All hope was dwindling down with each passing second. Even if there was any sign of him….."

"I can't see anything. How about you?" He tried staying calm.

Bo shook his head, spraying water flying everywhere. "No." But that didn't mean he was going to give up. There was only a short time a person could hold their breath. "I'm goin' down again." They both dived down a second time.

Bo came up. There was still no sign of him. Maybe he managed to get out. Bo looked around the area. Rosco was nowhere in sight. "Where is he Luke?" Bo desperately pleaded to his cousin.

"I don't know." If you're wondering why Luke wasn't losing his cool, it had been part of his training as a marine. He knew about people dying and knew how to handle it better. He saw it in the marines, even dealt with death. His cousin, who was always acting reckless and care free, but was always nice to others, never dealt with this kind of thing in his life.

"Rosco." Bo called and dived under a third time. He came back up with Rosco's hat. "Luke he ain't in there." His voice sounded like an innocent child's that just learned the meaning of death.

"Come on, let's get out of here. We gotta get Cooter." Luke swam toward the embankment. He called back to Bo, "Come on, come on out." His cousin climbed onto the cruiser again, sliding on the back hood a little bit. Luke grabbed his hand and helped him down. They both climbed out of the lake.

"Rosco could never swim a lick." Bo told Luke. He was shivering from the cold water. "Luke if Rosco ain't in that car…" That meant he was dead. He had to lean against Luke, just at the thought.

"I know." He looked back at the lake.

"He's gone Luke. Rosco's gone."

Luke put his hand over his face, his shield temporarily broke. It just wasn't some person, like it had been in the marines; it was Rosco, their friend. Even though they never acted like friends there was a place in their hearts for him.

Why do reckon it is that sometimes losing an enemy is kinda like losin a friend?