I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: A belated Birthday present for Cargumentluv! This story was a seed of mine for a very long time ... something I'd wanted to do but didn't quite find the right focus. The muse seems to have come through after ages of pondering and I hope you enjoy it.
H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O
Newark, New Jersey. Time Stamp: Late October: 25 years earlier.
Legs pumping, he ran hard. The dog was on their heels and Danny didn't chance a glance over his shoulder. Instead, he kept the younger kid in front of him, his hand fisted in the back of the kid's hoodie. In his other hand, all he had was a poor excuse for a pocket-knife. The thing was old, rusty and so badly bent that it probably hadn't been folded back into his dented aluminum sheath for years.
But it was all he had against the aggressive dog and the animal's equally ugly owner.
"That way!" Danny gasped as he shoved the kid towards a hole in the fence. He wasn't sure he could fit, but the younger boy probably could.
He skidded across the dirt on his knees, giving himself some decent bruises and scrapes in the process while tearing at the rent in the chain links. "Go … go!"
"But!" Danny looked into the boy's terrified eyes and managed to give him a cocky, arrogant grin.
"Just ...go! Get out of here!" Then Danny was shoving at the boy again and forcing him through the break; forcing him to crawl on his hands and knees despite the tears which were streaking the kid's face. Without looking as his name was called out, Danny tore off down the fence line looking for a way now to protect himself. Or, even find some help.
But he tripped over a twisted metal pipe and fell hard, losing precious minutes and almost that lousy excuse for a knife. Practically growling under his breath as the dog barked so much closer, Danny jerked to his feet. The man was close too … egging on his dog and yelling threats which Danny wholeheartedly believed would be carried out. He had zero doubts that the dog was a killer and could tear his limbs from his body. And whatever the dog left, he was sure the man would have his head served up on a platter.
Panting and eyes wide, he paused before ducking between two burned out metal shells. Old station-wagons Danny just registered as he forged on. There was bad bad smell there as he squeezed through, and he grimaced before needing to throw his arm over his nose. The smell was a foul stench. Much worse as he passed by the front of the one-time vehicle. But he forgot the smell as soon as he heard the angry shout behind him. Too close! Spurred on by fear, Danny ducked and weaved between scrap metal and other busted up cars. Things which once might have held a purpose, but were all now relegated to a slow twisted death within the confines of the old junkyard.
He stopped for a barely a second, unsure of where to go. Literally able to hear the dog's paws on the hard-pack, the terrifying jangle of the tags on its thick studded collar. He could hear the man's breath … and his pursuers were too close. He'd never be able to hold them off long enough.
He ran wildly now giving up on the fence line and opting for the small brick building. Equally lined with refuse and a hodgepodge of junk, both large and small, it might at least give him some refuge if he could just find a hole or remote darkened space. At least - something - until the man and dog might move to another side of the rambling dump of a place.
Staying low, he dodged and tripped over pieces of metal, wood and garbage, almost pleased with himself for having made it to the small building unseen. From behind an old mildewy stack of pallets, he peered through its broken slats. Eyes narrowed and holding his breath even though his chest was tight with a desperate need to breathe, Danny caught a glimpse of the man and forced himself to stay quiet. The dog was arrogantly trotting just a few feet in front of its owner, its head on a swivel, scenting for him.
Danny froze as the two stopped as one. He prayed they'd just go away … just give up … but as soon as he'd finished the silent plea, they were on the move again. Not away as he'd so desperately wanted, but towards him.
Of its own volition, Danny's right hand patted the brick wall. Dusk was falling and he used some of the newly cast shadows as cover, but that loss of light was also beginning to limit his ability to see.
He edged along quietly, stepping carefully and seeking a place to hide whether it be high or low. When his hand connected with the cold, slim outline of a handle he automatically levered it down, wincing as the old spring gave a tired squeak. Ever so cautiously, he opened that door and peered quickly inside, wincing at the acrid old smell which burst out. He nearly gagged at the odor which was a mix of dead fish, mildew and only God knew what else. But with no other options and enough room for his small body, he squeezed through into the gutted out space. He'd planned to keep the palm of his hand on the inside of the door just in case … just in case the unreliable rusted door locked him inside.
He'd meant to do that so he could keep an eye or ear on his pursuers. But just as he squeezed in, he heard it. The jangle, the angry blood-thirsty growl and he panicked as the dog closed ranks.
Danny fell forward, his forehead slamming into the rear wall of the small space just as the dog's front paws collided with the outside of the door, slamming it shut with a resounding clap. Plunged into darkness, Danny couldn't hide his yelp of pain as his teeth were rattled hard enough for him to accidentally bite his tongue.
He turned around on his knees, his back against the cold slick of the back wall. He blinked wildly in a darkness that was so pitch, he couldn't even see his own finger in front of his face. But he could hear the dog scrabbling at the closed door. He could hear the man's voice, muffled as it was ... stunned when he heard the sharp bark of a sadistic laugh.
"Stuck are ya, boy?" The junkyard owner drawled with glee. "Trespass ... will ya?"
Danny reached out blindly to just touch his side of the door. There was no latch, handle or hinge. Nothing but cold, cool metal.
"Let me out," Danny whispered, his fear suddenly spiking to an all time high. Surely the man wouldn't just leave him like this? Not like this? He wasn't sure if the man heard him or not. But it didn't matter because the junkyard owner obviously had other ideas about teaching him a lesson.
Gasping in fright, Danny nearly dropped the small knife he had still managed to hold as sound engulfed him. The thudding of the man's fists on the outside of his prison was loud and erratically tympanic. It hurt his ears until he was practically deafened.
"Stop …. stop it! Let me out!" He begged while slamming his hands over his ears, not realizing the man couldn't hear him over his own sadistic laughing or the sounds of the excited dog which was now barking incessantly.
"Let me out!" Danny screamed, wishing that he'd never taken on the dare to go to the junkyard ... steal an old license plate as proof. Now, hoping against hope that Mattie would tell … that his kid brother who he'd managed to force through that fence would tell so that his father would come to save him because the junkyard man was insane like the older neighborhood kids had always said. He and his dog were killers!
Knees drawn up tight to his chest, Danny began to shake. He was trying his level best not to cry, but at ten-years old, his usual stoic disposition had reached its breaking point even after the horrible pounding had stopped.
Danny opened his mouth to apologize ... lesson more than well learned. He was about to say something ... anything ... until the old appliance started to move. At first slow, it jerked just a bit until the junkyard man got a better momentum going.
He lost his private struggle to not cry as the old appliance began to really rock from side to side. Danny squealed in fear as he was tossed to and fro. He tried to brace himself on the inside, but his sneakers held no traction and his sweaty fingers had nothing to grip onto along the smooth inner walls.
"Stop! Please ... stop!" Danny pleaded just one more time. Just once before there was a moment where it felt as if he and the old refrigerator were suspended in mid-air on an axis. And then ... he was falling. Like a marble inside a tin can, Danny fell hard on his right side as the old appliance lost its own battle against man and gravity.
Danny shrieked inside his prison as it toppled over sideways. Arms flaying inside the small space, he cut his hand on the old knife and banged his temple so hard that he saw a make-believe flux of tiny stars twinkling sickeningly in the blackness.
~ to be continued ~