The Final Voyage of General Lee first appeared in Thuglit Issue 1 (2005)

The General is dead. Hellfire smolders on the horizon and the Stars & Bars ripples at my feet, half-buried in the sand. Sunrise is on the way, hotter than two rats fuckin' in a wool sock, and the wind picks up the dust so I can taste it. The tequila helps.

I pull the flag around my shoulders and turn my back on the flaming horizon. Over the next dune stands the shady silhouette of my amigo, looking over the miles of bubbling sand that separate us from the lost highway. The desert is quiet as church on Monday, silence broken only by the laughter of demons and the clicking of Vade's knife. "Jalisco is south, Kemosabe," he says. That's when I grab the pistol, step forward, and center it on his forehead. 

"I won't forgive you," I hiss through clenched teeth. Vade is surprisingly calm about having a gun to his head; he folds his knife and pockets it, then looks at me like he's waiting for me to say something. But before I pull the trigger, I realize that this isn't the beginning of the story. It's the end, or pretty damn close, which is no way to start. The real beginning is three days ago, a carton of OJ and a bottle of Pepe Lopez in a rusty pickup, headed south. The Rio Grande was long behind us; ahead there was only desert. Just me, Vade, and the General…

Find out what happens to Kemosabe, Vade and the General for just a dollar!