This is my first ever fan fiction. I have an idea where I want this to go, but I need some feedback to know if it's any good. The more feedback the longer the story. I have 3-4 chapters planned, but I can always add more :). Thanks for taking time to read it.
Updated 4/18--Hope the format is now easier to read. Thanks for all the great reviews!
Chapter 1- The Mystery
Winston juggled his keys and the bag of donuts he was holding as he approached the door. He was thinking about the trip that Chance had just finished in Peru. They had been paid, (and get that--they had actually been paid he thought), to get a mine owner out of harms way. They had arrived back at the warehouse late Saturday evening in need of a hot shower and a good night's sleep. In typical Chance fashion he had managed to sprain his knee in an attempt to escape the explosion that had acted as their distraction. One day one of these "distractions" was going to backfire on them. Now here it was early Monday morning and he was headed in to pay some bills now that they had the means. He wanted to get all the paperwork out of the way before Chance found another one of his pro bono cases. Not that he blamed Chance for taking those cases, but they needed a paying client now and then to pay the bills.
As he approached the door he rapidly became alarmed--the door was cracked open. He immediately dropped the bag of donuts on the floor and drew his firearm. The door was never left open. He cautiously approached the door while the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. Holding the gun at eye level he slowly pushed the door open.
"Chance?!" he yelled. Nothing.....he walked slowly into the room, catching a glimpse of Carmine on the floor.
"Carmine?" he whispered.
He wasn't moving. Slowly he approached the large Rottweiler who was flat on his side and still as death. Something was so majorly wrong here. Neither Carmen nor his master would be asleep while someone was moving as stealthily as he was at this moment. He reached one foot out and nudged the dog. Still nothing. He switched the gun to one hand and bending at his knees he used his other hand to check Carmine out. Well, at least he was alive, but he was out cold. More worried than ever he scanned the bottom floor. Then he eased up the stairs, one at a time, hollering once more for Chance, again with no response.
As he reached the top of the stairs he spotted Chance lying unmoving on the couch. After a quick scan of the room to make sure they were alone, he holstered his gun rapidly and covered the last few steps in a heartbeat. If he had thought Chance looked rough Saturday evening he looked ten times worse now. His knee was triple the size it should have been, his face was swollen with cuts all over, there was a long scratch from one eye to his ear, and the other eye was a blueish black. He had blood down the front of his t shirt, and his upper left arm was wrapped with an ace bandage, with blood seeping around the edges. Winston checked his pulse which was slower than he would have liked, but at least he had a pulse. He tried a gentle shake to wake him up, but like Carmine he was unresponsive. He checked his pupils and did not like what he saw. He stood up rapidly and grabbed for his cell phone. Who to call? Not the police....they would ask questions that he didn't have the answers too. Maybe Guerrero would have a good idea what to do. He was pretty good with medical stuff, although he would never admit that to his face. He hated calling Guerrero, but he wasn't thinking to clearly at the moment.
He finally picked up on the 4th ring. "This had better be good dude" said the groggy voice.
"I'm here with Chance and it looks like someone has drugged him up pretty good."
The voice on the other end seemed to come to life. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me--someone got to Chance--he's out cold."
A quick "Don't move, Ill be right there." and the phone went dead.
Winston knew help was on the way. Guerrero might be a bit odd at the best of times. But when Chance was in trouble he knew that he could count on him. In the meantime he got a rag and some cold water and started to clean Chance up. He rebandaged his injured arm which appeared to be a knife slash. At least it was no longer bleeding. He also found a huge goose-egg of a knot on the back of his head. Perhaps that was why he was out and maybe he wasn't drugged. Who could have done this? he thought to himself. While it was true that Chance had about as many enemies as friends, he couldn't think of anyone who would have done this to him and his dog. Something just did not make sense.
He heard a rustling downstairs and then a "Dude--what happened to Carmine?" as Guerrero started up the stairs.
"Same thing that happened to Chance I guess." replied Winston.
"And what exactly did happen?" As Guerrero entered the room and headed for the couch.
"I wish I knew......." as Winston moved out of the way.
Guerrero slung his bag onto the floor next to the couch, looked into Chance's eyes and then proceeded to shuffle through his bag. He drew out a syringe and a bottle of unidentified liquid and started to fill the syringe.
"What is that?" asked Winston.
"A stimulant--should hopefully bring him back to the land of the living."
"Where did you get it?"
"Do you really want to know?" as Guerrero raised his eyebrows and looked at Winston with a half smile.
"No, no, I guess not." said Winston rapidly. Guerrero snorted softly as he inserted the needle into Chance's uninjured arm. "How long will we have to wait?" as Winston paced behind him.
"Shouldn't be too long dude, maybe then he can tell us what happened."
Not more than a couple minutes later Chance started stirring. Winston practically pushed Guerrero out of the way.
"Chance, can you hear me?" in a low voice. Slowly Chance's eyes opened.
"Did you get the number of the bus?" he mumbled.
"What?!" as Winston's eyebrows shot up.
"He's trying to be funny dude." said Guerrero to Winston, and then he turned to Chance "What happened?" There was a long silence and a blank look on Chance's face as he slowly blinked awake.
"Well?" they both chimed.
"I.....I.....don't know" said Chance.
Winston rather forcefully said "What do you mean you don't know? I leave you 36 hours ago looking tired with a promise from you that you would sleep all day Sunday and this morning I find you here looking like the dog drug you home."
Guerrero shot him a sour look and then looked worriedly at Chance. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Chance tried to sit up but grabbed his head with a moan. "The last thing I remember was climbing the stairs and looking forward to a nice hot shower.......then........I don't remember anything else." He licked his dry lips and Winston got up to fetch him some water. Guerrero in the meantime had found a small flashlight in his surprisingly bottomless bag that he carried with him. He checked both of Chance's eyes then carelessly said "Well you definitely have a concussion. That may explain the memory loss."
Winston handed Chance a glass of water and some pills.
"What are those?" grilled Guerrero.
"Just a couple of aspirin, he looked like he could use them." Chance grabbed the pills, took a long swig of water and eased his head back onto the pillow on the couch.
Guerrero stood up and said "I'm going to go check on Carmine."
Chance's eyes, which had just closed, shot back open. "What happened?" he asked.
"Looked like someone drugged him too. He should be coming around soon." said Guerrero.
"Why?" asked Chance
"I don't know dude. But whoever it was didn't want you dead at least." as he walked away.
Chance again tried to sit up only to be pushed back down by Winston. "Rest. Maybe it will come back to you once you have had some rest." Chance reluctantly submitted, while Winston went to find some ice for the swollen knee.
At the bottom of the stairs Winston saw Carmine sitting up and blinking slowly. At least he looked better than his master. As he walked into the kitchen he saw Guerrero scrounging around in the fridge for something to eat.
"Do you think we need to get him out of here?" asked Winston.
Guerrero, with his mouth now full, said "Look, I don't think they went to all this trouble to bring him back here if they wanted him dead."
Winston did a double take "Bring him back...here?" "What are you saying? You think they kidnapped him and then brought him back here?" asked Winston.
"Look" said Guerrero getting a bit testy "There is no way he got that beat up without a fight. You know Chance--and there is no sign of a fight here. My best guess is they lured Chance away from here and did.....whatever."
Winston rolled his eyes and had to admit he was right. Nothing was out of place here. Whatever happened had not happened in here. That didn't help them solve anything. Unless Chance remembered something they may never know. Unless they, and how he wished he had a name for "them", came back.
"Well, I'll plan on staying here for a couple of nights just in case...." a loud crash from upstairs ended his words and though Guerrero was wiry and fast Winston beat him up the stairs. Chance was now face down on the floor, and out cold again. Winston cautiously rolled him over, thankfully not finding any more damage. With Guerrero's help they both got him back onto the couch. It was going to be a long day Winston thought.
Chance woke up several hours later. His head was pounding, and his knee was throbbing, though someone had put some ice packs on it while he was out. He couldn't remember feeling this rotten in quite some time. He could hear a low rumble as his two friends chatted downstairs. Normally he would be up in a flash and downstairs with them but for once he figured he was stuck here. Especially since his last attempt to stand up had been greeted with a major wave of dizziness and then....blackness. Carmine strolled over to him and licked the back of his hand. At least Carmine understood how lousy he felt. Now if he could just remember what had happened. He closed his eyes and for a second he saw the flash of a knife, and a small boy in the background......then everything faded away to black......
TBC