The Pipes Warning: It's a Death Story (you know how I love 'em!)
It was cold and wet. As he looked up, he could just about make out the shapes of pipes overhead. He looked to his left. Hutch?
Pushing himself into a seated position he paused for a while to allow his eyes to focus.
Hutch? he thought again. He began to crawl. He was soaking. His nostrils were burning and his eyes too.
Presently he reached the lump that was his partner. He tenderly reached out his arm. He touched Hutch's cheek. It was cold. His hair was wet. He clothes were wet.
Starsky shut his eyes, remembering when he saw Hutch fall. Oh Hutch.
He was crying inside, but for some reason the tears wouldn't flow.
Around him were more pipes. Smaller ones. All around him in the stagnent water were pipes, flowing among them was his partner's blood.
It was instinct to jump after him, after Hutch had fallen. Now he was wishing he hadn't, or that he had made a better job of it when he had. His legs were hurting. His back was hurting too, but mostly it was his heart. His heart was broken and he knew it could never be healed.
Hutch was dead. Hutch was dead! It was screaming in his head.
He looked up again. He saw the pipes and realised this would be the last thing he would see. He continued to look at the pipes until he slept..............
The End