"The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog. . . He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounter with the roughness of the world. . . When all other friends desert, he remains."

George G Vest

"Oh NO!"

Hutch was silent. Then, "I'm really sorry Starsk."

Starsky made a pathetic noise somewhere between a whimper and a sob. "My car…"

Hutch coughed. "It'll be okay."

"Okay?!" Starsky screeched. Later, he would be embarrassed. "Look at it Hutch, there's a TREE squishing my car! It's gone! Useless! Flattened! Thinner than a pancake!" Starsky had to stop and breathe before he made himself pass out.

The two detectives stood before the remains of the Torino. Indeed, a very large, dead tree had fallen at some point during the earthquake and was now laying heavily over the flashy red mass of twisted metal. Shattered glass lay on the ground, glittering in the dull sunlight. The roof of the car now rested on the floorboards. It was truly a very sad sight.

Starsky wished he could fall to his knees and mourn, but he was currently the only thing holding Hutch upright. He brought them closer to the car so he could reach out and touch her lifeless body. "This is the worst camping trip ever. You lose your dog to a giant bear, and I lose my car to unprocessed toilet paper."

"Starsky, I bet Merle will be able to fix it right up. You'll see."

Starsky ran a hand over his wet, dirty face. His headache had increased tenfold. "No Hutch, I don't think this is the kind of thing you can 'fix right up'."

He turned to find Hutch staring at him with concern radiating in those deep blue eyes. Starsky took a deep breath. "Well what are we gonna do? It's obviously not gonna carry us out of here, and the radio is damaged. Even if I could squeeze my hand in there, I doubt I could fix it."

Hutch hopped on one leg. "Well then, we walk."

Starsky stared at him. A torrent of objections flooded through his brain and clogged his throat. "Walk?! Hutch, look at us, you're lucky you can even stand, and I can't tell which of the three of you is really you. It's raining, not to mention my arm is broken, and there's always the possibility of an aftershock-"

"Well what do you want to do Starsky, sit here and wait for someone to find us?"

Starsky shut his mouth as he realized Hutch had just snapped at him. "Of course not… it's just… do you even know where to go?"

Hutch rubbed his temple. "There's a ranger station a few miles north of here. I saw it on the brochure."

Starsky wiped a raindrop from his nose. "We don't have a compass."

Hutch sighed. "The sun," he hinted with a pointed finger.

"Oh."

They were both quiet for a moment as the severity of the situation set in. 'A few miles' would be slow going in their current conditions. They were already soaked to the bone, injured, and weary. Starsky silently cursed the deity in charge of the California weather.

Hutch pulled away from him. "We need to get your arm in a sling," he said, stripping off his shirt before Starsky was fully aware of his intentions.

Starsky's jaw dropped when Hutch's black and deep-purple shoulder was revealed. "Good God Hutch, your shoulder looks terrible."

Hutch spared it a glance before looking at Starsky. "Doesn't hurt so much anymore." He turned his attention to the damp fabric in his hand.

"It's fine Hutch, don't-"

The sound of ripping fabric halted his protests. Hutch glanced at him.

"Or, you know, go ahead. Whatever."

"You can't keep walking around like that. The bones will grind together and splinter."

Starsky winced. "Well what about you?"

Hutch tied the fabric in a hard knot. "I'll be fine. The bones in you leg are thicker."

Starsky let the sling be placed over his head. He searched Hutch's eyes for signs of false information. "Are you serious, or is this like the time you told me that your friend got a sore throat after eating at Taco Bell and the doctor found roach larvae eating her from the inside out?"

The corner of Hutch's mouth twitched. "I'm serious Starsky, I'll be fine." He gave the sling one last adjustment. "Let's go."

Starsky took one last look at his demolished car. With a heavy heart, he bid her farewell. As they passed by, he trailed his fingers off the bumper made slick with rain. Then, with a sigh, he straightened and squared his shoulders. It would take both of them to escape this without further harm, and if anyone should be in mourning, it should be Hutch. The dog had brought about a side of his partner Starsky didn't see very often, but now that it was gone, he missed it. Starsky was worried it may never come back.

They had been walking for a long time now- at least, it seemed like an awful long time to Starsky. The sun had finally given up it's struggle with the gray clouds and had retreated behind them. An irritating drizzle sprinkled the earth, sounding like the static of a record player against the peaceful forest scenery. The wildlife was sparse. Starsky imagined a family of deer huddled safely under a protective bush and wished he could do the same. How much further could it be?

He was worried about Hutch. The lanky blond had hardly spoken a word during their travels. Granted, Hutch was normally more reserved, Starsky has selfishly hoped for some comfort as they struggled through the dreary forest. Hutch's half-hearted attempts to hide his pained grunts were starting to wear heavily on Starsky's heart.

"You okay? Wanna stop for a while?"

Hutch licked his lips and swallowed hard, his ribs pressing into Starsky as he panted. "I'm fine. Go get some branches."

"For what?"

"A splint."

"Ah-ha!" Starsky crowed. "I knew it! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Hutch sank to sit on a rotting tree stump. "Because it hurts a lot more now and I thought we would've found help by now."

Starsky quickly scouted for some fairly straight and sturdy sticks. "Are we lost?"

"I don't know where we are, exactly, so…"

"You always know how to raise my spirits, you know that?"

Starsky returned with a couple sticks and knelt before Hutch. His knees sank into the wet earth with a squish. Slowly and mindful of his broken arm, he took off his own outer shirt and tore it into strips. "Like this?" he asked after he had placed the supportive branches on either side of the broken leg.

"You're doin' great," Hutch said. He only spared a glance to Starsky, then immediately looked to the sky, his face a mask of unhidden pain.

Starsky felt a pang of sympathy blossom in his gut as he tied the sticks snuggly to his partner's leg. At least neither of their broken bones had penetrated the skin- then they would have to worry about infection. Providing they weren't too far off course, help shouldn't be too far away. As Starsky finished tending to Hutch's leg, he decided the silence was too melancholy.

"Hey, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," Hutch replied sharply as he tried to stand. "Let's just keep moving. We should be getting close."

Starsky helped his partner stand and looked into those blue eyes as familiar as his own. He sighed inwardly. "Is it the dog? I'm sorry-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it. Can we just keep moving, please?"

Hutch's words floated lazily in the damp air. Starsky opened his mouth to acquiesce when Hutch held up a flat hand.

"Did you hear that?"

"What." Starsky said, defeated, and rolled his eyes. Hutch would go to great lengths to avoid sharing his feelings.

"I heard a noise. Sounded like a person."

Starsky's interest flared. "Where?"

Hutch's intense gaze searched the forest. 'Cop mode', Starsky realized, and stood a little straighter.

"Somewhere over there," Hutch replied softly, as if his voice might spook the thing responsible for the noise.

Starsky listened too. There it was- laughter? Men laughing? Starsky's mood lightened. He and Hutch could ask for help from the fellow campers and perhaps still make it home by nightfall.

"Let's go check it out," Starsky said as he took a step forward.

Hutch didn't move.

"What?" Starsky complained, recognizing the stubborn streak in his partner. "What is it?"

Hutch looked at Starsky. "Don't you think it's a little strange for people to be camping this far away from the main trail?"

Starsky shrugged, because really, what did he know about camping. "I don't know. Maybe they like roughing it?"

Hutch shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Probably you're broken leg," Starsky muttered. "Look at us Hutch, we need help. We have to chance it."

"I wish I had my gun."

"You probably would have shot yourself during the earthquake."

Hutch eyed Starsky.

"You know, when the rocks were falling, by accident…"

Hutch rolled his eyes. His left cheek was still noticeably swollen and gave the effect that he was constantly winking. The skin's dark hue almost matched the ugliness of his once-dislocated shoulder. "Well I'm never leaving it at home again. I feel helpless."

"You are helpless, Blintz. That's why I'm here." Starsky grinned and the pain in his head receded a little. "Do you know how incredibly lucky we are that we didn't die in that earthquake? I mean, what are the odds?"

"Something to write home about," Hutch murmured, obviously concentrating on finding the noise again.

Starsky was quiet for a moment too. "Come on. Let's go meet our neighbors."

Hutch sighed and nodded, and Starsky knew that Hutch was obeying just to keep him happy, because they couldn't afford to miss the opportunity for help. If the campers turned out the be murderers, well then, Hutch could say 'I told you so'. But for now, they plugged along, helping each other over slick leaves and rocks and fallen branches. Couldn't someone clean this place up once in a while?

They slowed their pace as a very large green tent came into view. The sounds of human voices were very recognizable now. Starsky ducked out from underneath Hutch's arm and kneeled behind a berried bush as Hutch grasped the tree next to him for support. There was no need to motion for silence- both detectives instinctively slipped into 'spy' mode. They immediately discovered that the voices belonged to one man and one woman.

"I'm telling you Frank, this operation is going perfectly! You couldn't have picked a better spot, baby."

"Yeah, well we still gotta haul all these across the state line, don't forget."

"Piece of cake." There was silence for a moment, then the woman giggled suspiciously.

Starsky strained his neck to peer over the bush. He could just make out two figures, standing very, very close to each other. Kissing, maybe? They looked like any young couple in love, but Starsky was curious about what they had to haul. Even without his gun, they could play their cards right and inform the local rangers of the situation. He glanced back at Hutch for direction- and was taken aback by his friend's appearance.

Hutch's eyelids were at half-mast and his face had gone sickly pale. He leaned heavily against the tree and was actually starting to slide down it's rough bark. "Hutch?" Starsky whispered, more out of disbelief for his partner than fear of being overheard.

Hutch swallowed like he was pushing down the contents of his stomach. "I don't feel so good," he mumbled and began a boneless decent.

Starsky was at his partner's side, lowering Hutch to the ground. "It's okay," he started, leaning Hutch against the tree. Hutch was panting now, and he looked at Starsky with glassy eyes.

"My head… 's hard to breathe…"

"Calm down Blintz," Starsky tried to console. "What do I need to do?" Well, besides pulling a radio out of his butt and calling for help.

Hutch winced and wilted to the side, battling some inner pains. "I don't know…" he ground out, his sides heaving with effort.

Starsky was worried. It was blatantly obvious that Hutch couldn't continue the trek to the ranger station. Starsky didn't want to leave his injured partner behind while he continued, either. He looked through the bushes at the tent. He couldn't see any other way around it. He'd just act innocent, like he hadn't overheard that they might be doing something illegal, and ask for help. He'd play dumb. Hutch always said he was good at that.

"Alright. Stay here. I'm gonna see if they can help us." Starsky patted Hutch's knee gently, letting his touch convey concern, comfort, and a promise. He hated seeing Hutch in pain, wanted to stay and hold him as he had all those times before… but he wanted to help his friend more. Hutch deserved a chance at real medical help.

Hutch nodded and curled in on himself as Starsky stood up. After one last sympathetic glance, he turned and broke through the shrubbery and into the campsite. His good arm was raised in peace, although he was sure he must look questionable in his current condition. "Hello!" he called out as he stopped just inside the clearing. "I need help!"

The man and woman that had been kissing intimately broke apart, their eyes wide like they had been teenagers caught in the act. "Who the hell are you?" the man shouted immediately.

Quickly, Starsky observed the couple. They both were dressed for the weather with heavy boots on their feet and yellow ponchos covering their dark clothing. The woman's brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail that brushed her shoulders. Both were rather thin, but something in their eyes told Starsky that these two were fighters. Something else coiled in his gut at that moment, and made him desperately wish he could turn back time.

"I need help, I'm a-" he stopped himself. If these two were doing unlawful things, announcing that he was a cop would most certainly not be to his benefit.

As Starsky stumbled over his words, the man reached into the tent and withdrew a long rifle, aiming it at Starsky's chest. "Don't move, friend," the man sneered.

Starsky gulped. This was really not his day. "Take it easy," he replied coolly, his voice not betraying the helplessness that was blossoming in his stomach. "I'm unarmed."

"You alone?"

"Yes."

The man snorted and piercing eyes searched Starsky raw. "I don't believe you."

Starsky looked to the woman for help, but found her face to be just as stony. They were at a small standoff; Starsky was not about to say anything about Hutch and the man looked like he really wanted to shoot something.

"Tell me the truth or I'll fire at will." To emphasize his point, the man swung the rifle to the left and fired it, the bullet disappearing into the shrubbery as the echo disappeared into the trees. Starsky flinched.

He couldn't risk having the man shoot Hutch. It would all be over for sure then. He opened his mouth, and the woman must have saw the hesitation on his face.

"I think he does have a friend," she said smoothly, walking closer to Starsky. His eyes watched the rifle's muzzle. "Why don't you tell him to come out and play?"

He would try begging again before he voluntarily gave up his friend. "Please… we need help. We're of no threat to you."

"What do you think, Elaine? Looks like that big mouth of his might be a threat."

Starsky's hope flickered. They were using names. That meant they weren't afraid. That was bad.

Elaine grinned the smile of a predatory cheetah that Starsky had saw once on TV. Right before she tore into the still-twitching back end of an antelope.

"I think you're right. He may need to visit with us for a while."

The man stepped closer. His rifle preceded him. "I will repeat myself this one time," he threatened, leaning close. "Go. Get. Your. Friend."

Starsky met the stranger's cold eyes with his own hard stare, but it was of no use. He ran through all the possible things he could do in this situation. The list wasn't very long. If someone had to reveal Hutch, Starsky wanted it to be himself. Finally his eyes slid down and away. "Okay," he submitted. His good arm was still in the air and he closed his fist, pointing with his thumb to the forest behind him. "I'm going to get him."

The man remained silent as Starsky slowly turned his back. Running was out, for he had a reputation of being slower than bullets. The man appeared far too focused for Starsky to be able to surprise and overpower. Plus, that still left the woman.

The prickly bush tore at his jeans as he passed through it. Starsky stood over Hutch, who had unclenched a fraction, though he still looked sick. "I'm sorry, partner," Starsky breathed as he bent down and helped Hutch to his feet. Hutch made no sound, but his wet, blue eyes spoke volumes.

The man chuckled as they moved through the shrub. "So this is what you've been hiding. Boy, I'd say you two do need help." Starsky looked at the man as hatred boiled in his stomach. "Too bad you won't be getting any."

"Let us go and none of this ever happened," Starsky tried one more time.

"You think I'm stupid, boy?" The man replied incredulously. He pushed the rifle into Starsky's ribs. "Get over there. Now."

Starsky let the cold metal push him towards the tent. They stopped before a large tree that stood five feet from the side of the green fabric. What would happen now? Hutch was weighing heavy on Starsky's shoulders, but it was a warm and solid burden that was welcomed.

"Elaine, get the rope."

The woman moved off silently. Starsky could only listen, as the rifle was pressed into the small of his back and he and Hutch were facing the forest's expanse. The tenseness in the air was choking. Even the birds had stopped fluttering about.

"What are we gonna do with 'em Frank?"

Elaine's voice sounded behind Starsky although the gun never lost it's pressure on his kidney. He glanced at Hutch. The blond was wilting before his eyes. Moisture collected at Hutch's temples and his eyes were bleary and unfocused. He stared straight ahead and Starsky wondered if he even knew what was going on.

"Tie 'em up. We'll move out tonight." There was an eerie pause. "The beasts can have them after that."

For a moment, there was no movement and Starsky realized that Elaine must be trying to figure out how to separate them. He smiled despite himself.

"Can he stand?" she asked roughly as she appeared at Starsky's side. There was indeed a coil of rope in her small hands.

"I doubt it," he answered tersely. It was an honest answer, and he hated it.

There was more silence, then Frank burst out, "Oh for Christ's sake, give me the rope. You keep the gun on him, you hear?"

"I got him baby."

Hutch was torn roughly from his side and cold air filled the spot where his partner had been. Starsky watched as Frank shoved Hutch to the ground near the tree. Starsky winced and his blood boiled. "Go easy on him," he ground out.

Frank didn't even look up as he dragged Hutch to lean against the tree. "You keep you mouth shut," he said as he pulled Hutch's hands around the tree on either side and began tying them together.

Starsky glared at Frank until his eyes burned and watered. Hutch's leg was still miraculously straight in the make-shift splint, despite the abuse it had just suffered. That may be the only good thing about the current situation.

Frank stood up, then bent over to admire his handiwork. He slapped Hutch's cheek lightly. "He ain't goin' nowhere," he sneered, then straightened and moved towards Starsky.

Starsky took an involuntary step back and the rifle dug deeper into his flesh.

"I wouldn't do that," Frank warned. "Elaine's got a quick trigger finger."

Panic was rising like bile in Starsky's throat. He eyed Frank as the man reached around and relinquished the gun from Elaine. "Be a good boy and go have a seat by your buddy over there." It was an order.

Starsky had never been one to take orders. "You'll never get away with this," he said, and tried to sound as threatening as one could while standing on the wrong end of a firearm. He looked around for anything that could be used in defense. The squirrel he spotted flicked it's tail and scurried away.

"And who's gonna stop me? You? That guy over there?" Frank grinned as he stepped closer to Starsky. "Not today, boy."

The last thing Starsky saw was the butt-end of Frank's long rifle. If he had just kept his eyes open another fraction of a second, he would have seen the small brown shape that darted around the edge of the campsite.

For the second time that day, David Starsky fell unconscious.