This story is a thank you to the ladies out there who so generously give their ideas to writers, encourage, cajole and drive us, but fequently get forgotten in the credits. So to Eli, Brook, Jan and Angie - step up and take a bow!
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys unfortunately - but I always like to damage them a bit.
Feedback: As always is craved, desired and cherished. Be kind, but not too kind and remember - its only a hobby!
Chapter 3
The path through the park wound its way around rhododendron bushes, tall trees and other plants whose names Hutch no idea of. They had leaves and flowers and were usually mostly green, and although he enjoyed looking after plants he couldn't care less for names. But somehow Starsky seemed at home ploughing through the greenery and he followed at a cautious distance. Now that he was away from the street lights, he could see better as the stars and moon took over illumination and his eyes became accustomed to the new light levels. He trotted after his new friend, speeding up as both men heard another heart rending, but gurgling scream. Now Hutch too threw caution to the wind as he realised Starsky had been right. If there was a woman there and she was being attacked he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try to do something to help, despite their unpreparedness. All signs of alcohol had been driven from their systems as adrenaline took over and drove them on.
Starsky broke into a dead run in the general direction of the commotion and Hutch stretched his long legs to catch up, thanking his years on the Duluth University track team for his ability to run long and fast. He caught up with the speeding brunette as they found their way blocked by a huge wrought iron gate leading from the general path into a rose garden. The scream seemed to emanate from there.
As Hutch arrived, panting slightly he saw Starsky was jumping up at the towering gates as though he could intimidate them into opening for him by his very presence, hitting out at them with his fist in desperation. Hutch stopped behind him and caught the left hand mid flight, hanging on.
'Have ya tried "open Sesame"? He asked in a light tone meant to hide his growing apprehension as Starsky wrenched his fist from the blonde's grip.
'No, but did you hear the scream again? We've got to get to 'em Blondie'. Desperately he tried to start the climb up the tall gate, but dropped back, unable to get a foothold as his sneakers slipped on the bare metal.
'Hey, do ya think you can lever me up on your back? Maybe I can reach that first bar' he looked at Hutch hopefully.
The blond sighed in desperation then bent double in front of the gate bracing his hands on his knees, inviting his new buddy to climb all over him. He grunted as Starsky's tennis shoed foot dug him first in the hip and then in the ribs, then he straightened as the brunet's weight lifted off him and Starsky started to climb.
'You ok?' he hissed as he saw the curly haired guy clear the top of the gate and leap down like some sort of predatory cat. Starsky landed neatly in a crouch then looked back at the gate as though he was born to run, jump and catch bad guys.
'Fine. You comin'?'
Hutch took a running leap at the gate, his long legs powering him into a high jump and he managed to take hold of the bar half way up, pulling his feet up with an effort until he had a foothold. As he started to climb into the rose garden he saw Starsky start to search through the bushes to the right of the gate. Levering himself over the top of the gate he was just about to start his descent when he missed his footing, his ankle twisting in the ornate metal work.
Frantically he made a grab for the iron bars of the gate, wrenching his wrist and arm and managing only to make contact with the tips of his fingers. With a grunt his hand closed on thin air and he plunged towards the ground, landing awkwardly on one of the flower beds. The breath was knocked from his body as he clutched at his back, giving a grunt as pain lanced through his spine and ribs.
'Ungh…crap, Oh Jeez, why'd I get involved in this? We shouldn't be on patrol for another few months. Who the hell does he think he is, Captain Marvel? And what the crap are you doing following along like some sort of lap dog?' he mumbled as he dragged himself to his feet. grumbling to release his nervousness at the situation he found himself in. Actually he knew very well that they were doing the only thing they could do - someone was in danger, and as Starsky had said, there wasn't time to go looking for help. They were it. They were the future police force and if he couldn't hack it now, he'd damn well better get out. But the more he stopped intellectualising and just allowed himself to react, the more Hutch knew he had to get to the woman and save her from…..who knew?
He straightened slowly, his hand clutching at the pain in his back that threatened to take his breath away. He grimaced, looking around in embarrassment in case the curly haired guy had seen his tumble. Noting with a certain satisfaction that he hadn't he brushed the gravel away from the cuts on the palms of his hands and painfully set off to find his buddy, cursing under his breath as he limped along.
Meanwhile, Starsky was having his own problems walking through the rose bushes. He'd been poking amongst the flowers trying to find the originator of the scream and had become a little over zealous in his search. As he prodded a particularly luxuriant bunch of roses, he tripped on a weed in the flower bed, diving headfirst into the prickly plants. He thrashed around on the ground, trying to get some leverage to get himself up but it wasn't an easy task and when Hutch finally found the flower bed, complete with shivering, cursing bush in the middle, he had to lend his new friend a helping hand to stand up and extricate himself.
Starsky stepped back onto the path, brushing foliage and blood in equal quantities from his jeans, jacket and shirt. His jeans were ripped at the right knee showing a fresh and bleeding cut and his shirt was torn from neck to mid chest. The handsome rugged face was decorated by countless scratches some seeping blood which threatened to flow into his eyes and other contusions could be seen on the furred chest, hands and arms.
'God I hate gardens, forests, woods, jungles. Gimme a sidewalk a road and a fast car anytime' he muttered as he winced, looking an errant branch of thorns which had embedded itself into the side of his hand.
'What the hell were you doing in there?' the blond asked, picking leaves and sticks out of the mahogany curly hair and examining the branch carefully.
'Looking for buried treasure? What do you think, Blintz?' the brunette retorted sarcastically. 'Crap! What the hell you doing?' he watched as his friend took hold of his arm and prodded around the thorns. 'D'ya think you're Doctor Kildare or somethin'?'
'No, Florence Nightingale' the blond mumbled equally sarcastically as he took a firm hold of the thorn branch and pulled it swiftly from the dark haired boy's flesh, eliciting a grunt of pain.
Their conversation was interrupted by another more muted strangled scream and both men forgot their own pains as they surged forward, questing back and forth over the ground, finally locating the position of the noise. As they approached the dark corner of the rose garden they saw a dark shadow disappear further into the park, silently and furtively. They pressed themselves back against the garden wall, trying to make themselves invisible until the shadow disappeared into the undergrowth. Quietly they waited, counting to ten. No other shadows moved and they let out a collective breath and relaxed a little.
Still searching for the owner of the scream, Hutch prowled the flower bed, kicking away at the undergrowth as he searched for… whatever or whoever. The dirt in the flower bed was covered by a deep layer of leaf litter and on top of that a mulch of bark chippings. His suede boots sank into the layers making the going slow and tough. It was difficult to see anything at all in the dark, but he stopped suddenly as his toe struck something soft and yielding.
'Starsky, over here' he whispered, bending down to push the foliage out of the way with his hand. He felt something warm and soft and drew his hand away in shock. Looking at it he saw it was wet, the blood showing up black in the moonlight. His heart hammered in his chest as he reached out and brushed more of the leaves away. What he saw made him stagger backwards, hand over his mouth as he fought to keep his night's supper in his stomach and not on the dirt at his feet. Although he'd started to train as a doctor, the patients he'd seen had always been neat, tidy and clean in a hospital bed. He'd never seen blood and gore in the raw before and it shocked him to the core.
As Starsky approached he tried to warn the brunette to be careful, but he was pushed gently out of the way as the curly haired man knelt down in the dirt by the side of the battered and bleeding girl. He gently put his fingers against her neck and was rewarded by a weak pulse although her face was battered and blood bubbled from her smashed lips.
'Hey honey, can you hear me? My name's Dave and this here is Hutch. We're gonna help ya ok?' he muttered softly, taking off his jacket to cover the girl with it. Her skirt was up around her waist and she made feeble attempts to pull it down and cover hereslf. Hutch, knowing that most likely she was into shock took off his own jacket, wadding it to tuck under her head. Her eyes flashed open then closed again in fear. 'S'ok honey, we're here to help, don't be frightened, huh?' Starsky looked up. 'She's breathing, but God!' he stood and drew the blond away. 'She's in a bad way. She needs a….. Hey, Hutch, you ok?' he asked
The blond was looking distinctly uncomfortable but to his credit he stuck around to help, breathing deeply and slowly and trying to regulate his heart beats which were far too fast he felt.
'Is she?... Doesn't it make you feel… dunno… sick?' he whispered, seeing the blood covering his friend's hands.
'Seen worse than this in 'Nam' Starsky muttered matter of factly, as he reached down tenderly and cradled the girl's head in his hands.
'Oh my God, you were in 'Nam?' That explains looking at home in the greenery. Too much time in the jungle!
'Yeah. I'll tell ya about it some time, but right now we've gotta get her out of here. Go back to the road and phone it in, will ya?' the startling dark blue eyes flashed at Hutch in the darkness. It was remarkable to the blond that after the giggles and fun earlier, the young man kneeling next to the smashed body now was authoritative and in control.
The blond was unsure, knowing they needed to help, but worried how best to do it. 'I dunno. I think we should stick together, don't you?'
Starsky stood and took hold of Hutch's shoulders.
'Just go back to the phone, ask for cops and an ambulance and get back here. Quick as ya can huh? I'll be right here. Not going anywhere. OK?'
'Fine, have it your way'. Hutch took a final glance at the blood soaked face of the girl and turned to set off back towards the park's iron gates.
The decision was taken completely out of their hands when a dark figure emerged from the bushes behind them, brandishing a large gun in their direction. The man was perhaps six feet tall and of slim build. He had dark luxuriant hair, grown longer at the back so that it touched the collar of the expensive looking leather jacket he wore. Hutch may have put the age at about 23 or 24, but it was difficult to tell as the whole of the left hand side of the man's face was deformed by burn tissue, shining dimly in the starlight.
Very carefully, Hutch stopped, raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender. He took a step backwards as the man waved his gun in the general direction and tripped over the edge of the flower bed, falling onto his already damaged back and grunting in pain.
'Hey, I thought I said to go for the ambulance' Starsky said, leaning over to protect the girl from falling blonds. 'We don't have a lot of time ya know. That flake could be….'
'Could be staring right at us waving a gun?' Hutch said, pointing slowly up at their assailant. Starsky froze; his fingers half way to stroking the girls head. He stared at the man levelly.
