Hi All,
First, sorry I am slow to post..As always, thanks for the continued interest and reviews. FYI, I will finish "White Nightmare" after I finish "Fire Storm"
To the Usual Suspects – Abrazos! I could never have finished this chapter without you guys.
Warning! Gross factors, some bad stuff and sad stuff, if you are sensitive, please do not read any further.
Chapter 11
Starsky eased his friend back off his lap and lay him back down on the shale near the bank of the little stream. He looked about for a safer place to put Hutch while he secured the area against Colby. After a brief search he found where Hutch had been hiding. He pulled out the pack that was in the little cave and checked out the contents.
The small stove would be handy, as would the small cooking pot. He set the water on to boil and then proceeded make a quick bed of pine boughs in the little cave. He then carefully eased Hutch onto one of the blankets and dragged him back to the little hide out. Getting Hutch in the little cave was a task as there wasn't enough room to maneuver. He had to sit and pull his friend in through the entrance. Hutch shook and muttered at the necessary manhandling, his blond head shifting restlessly on the blanket.
After so much jostling and tugging, Starsky puffed and panted with the exertion, his muscles quivering with effort. The stick in Hutch's arm caught on something and the blond cried out. "Sorry… 'm sorry partner… just a little more and I'll stop movin' ya" He reached out to soothe the tossing head. "S'okay… s'okay boy, I'm here"
Hutch's left hand lifted and Starsky caught it. The blond weakly tugged the brunet's hand to his chest and held it there. His restlessness ceased. Starsky dropped his chin to his chest; he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand free just yet. "Alright… just for a few minutes" His free hand stroked the wispy blond hair as he waited for Hutch to slip back into a deeper sleep.
He watched as the lines of pain smoothed off of Hutch's brow as he slipped back into a fever induced sleep. Starsky then reluctantly pulled his hand from the blond's grasp. He had to set up some traps for Colby just in case the bastard decided to put in an appearance.
He crawled to the opening and briefly looked back at Hutch for a moment to assure himself that the blond was still sleeping. He then crawled passed the bush in front of the entrance and set about laying various traps and alarms to warn him if Colby or anything came too close to the cave. He didn't want to be caught unawares while he worked on Hutch's arm.
After setting up various booby traps, he made his way back to the little cave. Between building the traps and alarms, he boiled as much water as he could to prepare for the task of removing the stick and cleaning up the wound. It was nearly dark by the time he dismantled and hidden any evidence of the small fire he had built. That cigarette lighter had come in handy, Starsky mentally thanked the Baron for his foresight as he crawled passed the plant and into the cave. That guy had the uncanny knack for packing whatever they needed.
He fluffed the bush back into position and put some more boughs over the entrance to further prevent their detection by their enemy, as he would need some light to look after Hutch's injury. The shale outside the little cave prevented any footprints leading to their hideaway. Starsky shuddered briefly. Hiding like this evoked memories of Nam. He heard a groan and looked over at his partner.
Hutch was huddled on his left side, shaking and groaning. He had flung the blanket off at some point when his fever spiked and now he shivered as the chills replaced the heat.
Starsky quickly moved to his friend's side and pulled the blanket back over him, leaving the right arm exposed. He stared at the stick that was rammed clean through the blond's upper arm and shook his head. He had to get that out of there. He understood why Hutch had left it in there. A doctor should remove it, preferably in a hospital. There were so many veins, nerves muscles and tendons in there. It would be easy to do more harm then good by pulling it out.
Plus the stick was likely acting as a stopper; it might bleed a lot once he pulled it out. He would have to look at the wound before deciding what to do. Whatever else needed to be done, the bandage needed to be changed.
Starsky carefully removed the makeshift bandage from Hutch's arm. As he gently removed it, hot juices of revulsion filled his mouth. The wound was festering and some tiny red streaks were beginning to show. The heat rolled off the arm like it would off of a bad sunburn. "Oh Hutch… oh my God…" Those streaks often signaled the insipient stages of gangrene. He had seen it before in Nam. A memory danced in his mind, flickering there like a silent movie in his head.
He and the remaining men in his platoon were hiding in the jungle… the enemy somewhere out there… waiting for one them to slip up and move or make a sound, thus giving away their location…Starsky sat next to Tim 'Jake' Jacobs, the kid who had taught him how to track, the FNG. He had become a friend to Starsky after the sniper incident. Now he was just one of the guys in his platoon. They waited to be evacuated… Praying they would be pulled out before Jake bled to death… the mud… the coppery scent of blood that intensified in his nostrils with each passing minute. The silent sobs of a boy of eighteen… just about six months younger then his own age… he was too young to see such things… and Jake was too young to die in the mud, in the jungle…
Hutch moaned.
Starsky blinked and swallowed hard, forcing the memory away. He was going to have to remove the stick and clean the wound as best he could under these conditions. He stared at the wound… removing the stick was gonna hurt, a lot, and staring at it would not get the task done. He brushed back the hair off of Hutch's damp forehead… as a sort of pre-apology for what he was about to do. The dirty bangs flopped back to their original spot.
He gathered his meager supplies and placed them around him in an organized, easy to reach pattern. Starsky rearranged things several times before he realized that he was stalling. He tied a bandanna around his head and stuck the small penlight in it next to his temple, to act as sort of a miner's lamp for lighting up the wound. He turned it on and took a close look at the stick from both sides of Hutch's arm. Trying to see which way would be best to pull the stick from. He chose the top, that end of the stick was a little larger, so it should pull out easier that way.
"Okay Hutch, here goes nothin'…" Starsky took firm grasp of the stick and pulled up on it. It slid out easily, with a slight sucking noise. It was coated in yellow-white infection… pus. The bile rose into the back of his throat and he swallowed hard several times. He tossed the stick near the entrance of the cave. He would have to dispose of it later.
The wound, now free of the blockage caused by the stick, drained onto the floor. The infection making a small gross puddle under the blond's right arm. Starsky gritted his teeth and began to work the wound, forcing more of the vile substance out. Moisture broke out on his upper lip, then his brow. He continued to work the infection out.
Hutch began to move. Just a twitch, at first.
"Hutch… go back to sleep… s'okay… shhh" he rubbed his knuckles over the blond's pale cheek and waited a few minutes, then went back to work.
Hutch flung his left arm out. More of a bat, then a real swing, Starsky blocked it and then caught it, gently pushing it back down to the blond's chest. The hand swung out again as soon as he released it. "Hutch… please… you have to hold still for just a little longer…" Starsky caught the flailing hand in his. "I need both hands for this… please… just for a few more minutes"
Hutch moaned and moved the second that Starsky released his hand "Huuutch…" He pleaded with his friend. He needed both of his hands to work the infection out, rinse the wound out with an iodine solution that the ever-prepared Baron had provided "Just how does he know exactly what to pack?" Starsky muttered as he let Hutch pull his hand back to his chest, hoping that the blond slipped back under so he could finish his lip-curling, stomach-turning task of cleaning the infected wound and bandaging it. If gangrene did set in, Hutch could loose his arm, if it got bad enough, he could loose his life.
He let Hutch hold onto his hand and used his free left hand to work the muscle around the puncture to keep forcing the ooze out; he had to work the wound until it bled. Soon the blond was shifting again and even holding Starsky's hand wasn't enough to keep him still. Chills racked the long body.
Starsky dropped his chin to his chest and sighed heavily. He would have to restrain his friend or he would never be able to properly clean the wound. He did not look forward to doing that. He took off his belt and secured it around Hutch's legs and then he took a handkerchief and tied Hutch's wrists together and then tied them to the front belt loops of his pants. The he went about the task of cleaning out the injury as quickly as he could so he could then free Hutch.
XXXX
Hutch struggled to free himself. Colby had caught him and was torturing him. He had to get away before John cut his eyelids off and rendered him incapable of doing anything but watching Colby watch him die. They were deep in the woods somewhere and no one would hear him if he screamed. He would not beg. He would not do that.
Pressure and pain suffused him; its epicenter was his right arm. Colby hadn't been lying when he had told him he would make it last. It seemed to have been going on for hours. A time or two he thought he had heard Starsky's voice and the touch of his hands, but it was just his mind playing tricks on him as the pain of the torture increased. Colby must be slowly roasting him over a fire, he was so hot, his throat was parched.
He was going to die at the hands of a mad man and no one would ever find him. Starsky would never know what had happened. His dark hair friend would search, maybe for years. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Starsky would never know the truth. A lonely tear streamed from his eye. Poor Starsky
XXXX
"Poor Starsky"
Starsky looked up from the wound at the sound of his friend's voice. It sounded so sad. "It's okay Hutch… just a few more minutes and I'll set you free" His words didn't seem to have any effect on the blond. He thumbed the tear off Hutch's cheek and kept working, he was nearly done. Sweat rolled down his face and dripped on his shirt. It was torture to watch Hutch suffering and knowing he was the cause. It was for a good reason, Hutch's life… but it still hurt.
He finished flushing the wound with the weak iodine solution and began to bandage it with a shirt he had cut up for just that purpose. He then proceeded to search Hutch's body, looking for other injuries before freeing him. He found scrapes and bruising and some ticks tucked in behind the blond's ears. Starsky removed the disgusting things and burned them with the lighter to kill them once he had them off of Hutch.
He could tend the bee stings on Hutch after he let him loose. There wasn't anything he could do for the sunburn to the right side of his friend's face, which must have happened when he had passed out beside the stream. His exposed right arm was probably burned as well, but with the redness caused by the infection, it was hard to tell.
The brunet quickly released Hutch from the belt and handkerchief. Hutch didn't seem to realize it yet. Starsky cleaned up the little area as best as he could and cautiously exited the cave. He took the fouled rinse water and old bandages out and buried them as far from the cave as he could to discourage animals and Colby from investigating. He made a quick scout around of the area, taking special care not to fall into his own traps. No Colby so far. Was it would be too much to ask for something bad to have happened to the murderer? He thought. Then he heard Hutch cry out and dashed back towards the cave.
XXXX
Starsky slipped back into the cave and scooted over the restless blond "Hey! Shhh! Hutch… shhh… I'm here, 'm back now" He brushed a hand on the furrowed brow, it was still hot, but Hutch's teeth clacked together. He had the chills again.
Starsky quickly arranged the backpacks against the wall as a backrest and eased his legs around to bracket his friend as he had that day after he had found Hutch in a muddy back alley and had gotten him to Huggy's upstairs room to recover. He then gently pulled Hutch into his arms, and wrapped him in the blanket as he did so. He pulled the little camp pot closer, which now had clean water in it and dampened a piece of t-shirt. He mopped his friend's face.
"No… stop!" the words were half shouted as the blond detective kicked out, fighting fever induced demons.
"S'okay boy… I'm here… I gotcha… shhh… quiet… we might get an unexpected and unwelcome guest if you don't, okay? Neither of us is dressed to entertain… 'kay?" Starsky checked his Beretta's position in his holster out of habit. "Though I do have a party favor for the first one through the door"
"No! Starsky… gotta find Starsky" Hutch's body quaked hard as the chills once more gathered him close.
"I'm here Hutch, right here… shhh" Starsky tightened his grip, hugging the shivering man, rubbing the left arm to help him warm up and to let Hutch know he was there with him. The actions he did for his friend now were as natural as breathing, but once, this would have been as foreign to him as a far off place called Vietnam had once been.
Sure, he had hugged and had been hugged by his parents and brother and other relatives. Hugged his girlfriends and held them close. Hugs given to male friends before Nam were the quick and rough 'manly' kind. The kind the consisted of a brief hug while pounding the other guy on the back with both hands as if to say, "I may be huggin' ya, but I'm also hittin' ya"
Nam had changed that. Tim 'Jake' Jacobs had changed that. Starsky tucked the blanket under Hutch's chin as his mind traveled back to Nam; the scene now, was similar to one from then. Hiding from the unseen enemy, with an injured man next to him.
The enemy was out there.
Somewhere
Waiting
Watching
ListeningStarsky sat with his back to a tree; the others in his platoon were hidden around the area as well. Some dozed while others watched and listened. All of them waited. Waited for the helicopters to come and evacuate them and the wounded. Jake moaned.
The soft sound startled him and he peered through the leaves of the surrounding plants to see if anyone else heard the sound. Sergeant Jones motioned for him to keep Jake quiet. The VC were near. Starsky put his hand over Jake's mouth as he leaned near and whispered in his ear to 'hush'. That did nothing. Jake pulled Starsky's hand away and looked up at him.
"Slick?"
Starsky leaned down close so Jake could whisper in his ear "Yeah?"
"I'm gonna die"
"No! You're not… what kinda talk is that? Now hush… try to rest, we'll be rescued soon" he patted Jake's shoulder and placed his hand over Jake's mouth "Please… be quiet… the VC might hear you and find us"
Jake nodded and bit his lip as he withstood the pain. Starsky removed his hand and tilted his head back slowly to look for the Hueys, though he knew he would hear them long before he would see them. 'Any minute now… C'mon… Hurry up' he thought as he stared up…searching and listening.
Jake grew more restless as the day progressed, he was becoming delirious and his mutters grew louder… he was endangering the platoon… twice the VC had nearly found them; it was only sheer luck that had prevented it from happening so far.
Keeping Jake quiet had become a full time job, an increasingly difficult one. Starsky looked at the boy…a boy not much younger then himself.
"Slick?"
"Yeah Jake?"
"I don't want to die" the blond raised his hand.
Starsky grabbed it "You're not gonna die… they'll come soon, just hang on" he urged.
"I can't… I can't Slick…I can feel myself dying…" tears streamed down the pale face. "I don't want to die… I don't want to" his brown eyes connected with Starsky's through the tears, wanting some kind of assurance. "I want to see my mother… before I die"
"You-you're NOT gonna die! Stop talkin' like that, now hush!" He pressed his hand over the quivering lips to silence them. He looked around; some of his fellow soldiers were looking at him. They looked scared.
A series of hand signals were flashed. The VC were making another sweep of the area.
"Slick?"
"Shhh! Ya gotta be quiet now… please… they're close now" He whispered as he peered about, watching for the enemy, then he looked back at Jake.
"Hold me… I don't want to die alone" the brown eyes locked on to blue ones and held on with his eyes, even as his grip on life slipped.
Starsky blinked rapidly and shook his head, trying to tell Jake with his eyes that he couldn't hold him just yet… he needed to keep his hands on his M16, the enemy was getting closer… it looked like they were going to have to engage them this time. He needed his hands on his gun.
Jake made as if to speak again and Starsky pressed his hand firmly over his friend's mouth and held it there. Moments later the threat was gone. And so was Jake. The Hueys arrived and pulled them from the area and Starsky held onto Jake's body all the way back to the base.
From then on he would take every opportunity to touch or hug his friends. If he were hurt or sick, he would want to be held and he knew that he would grab a hold of a friend… hang on and not let go. He would never let a friend die alone again. It was a promise that he made to Jake, or more accurately, Jake's memory. And he intended to keep it.
XXXX
Tears streamed down the brunet's face as he remembered. God, let it go better for Hutch then it had for poor Jake. Had Jake forgiven him for not holding him as he died?
Hutch shifted in his lap, snapping him back to the present. Starsky found his legs had gone numb from the lack of circulation from the weight on them. None of that mattered to him. What mattered was that Hutch was alive. The blond tensed.
"Shhh… s'okay now, go back to sleep" Starsky stroked the blond's hair, then squeezed the left shoulder before picking up the rag to wipe at the beads of sweat that were forming along the hairline.
There was a sound outside. He froze. Hutch moved once more. He hugged the blond close and put his hand over Hutch's lips. "Shhh!" the command was whispered. If Colby heard them… all the man would have to do was open fire into the little cave and they would both be hit. They couldn't escape. Starsky pulled his Beretta from its holster and pointed it towards the entrance of the cave. He held his breath.
XXXX
Hutch slowly climbed back to consciousness. He felt hot and very tired, but also very thirsty. He licked his dry lips as he tried to figure out what was happening around him. His arm ached fiercely. Where was Colby? He shifted slightly. Whatever he was laying on was a little uncomfortable… and moving. He held still and tried to control his breathing. He couldn't let Colby know that he was afraid.
He admitted it. He was afraid. 'Fine Hutchinson… you can be scared, but don't let your fear blind you… you can think of a way out of this, whatever 'this' is' he instructed himself silently. He carefully tested his legs and could not detect any bonds. A small movement with his arms confirmed two things, one: that he was not tied and two: his right arm really hurt. Hutch then had a vague recollection of falling and getting a stick rammed through his arm. It was mixed together with scenes of Colby chasing him.
Hutch opened his eyes and saw nothing. A moment of panic gripped him as he remembered being blinded… oh God… no! Colby…he was running from Colby. Murder… torture… cutting the eyelids off of the FBI agent… he was being hunted and he was blind…
Nervous sweat broke out on his forehead and he tensed as he felt movement beneath him.
"Shhh… s'okay now, go back to sleep" a familiar voice soothed and a hand briefly ran over his hair and on to squeeze his left shoulder. It was Starsky! Hutch relaxed into the touch and exhaled in relief. A damp rag was wiped across his forehead; he moved his head to follow the coolness. The rag was reapplied, the cool wetness slid down his fever-heated face and into his hair. The coolness felt so good.
There was a small sound from somewhere. He felt Starsky freeze and pull him close. His friend put his hand over his mouth and whispered "Shhh" in his ear. He obeyed. He felt Starsky move slowly and heard the tiny sound of a snap releasing its hold. Starsky was pulling his gun. It had to be something serious.
Hutch tried to figure out where he was and just what was going on. Everything was muddled and disjointed, like a badly skipping record. His last clear thoughts, until now, were of running from Colby. How the hell had Starsky suddenly appeared? Oh, wait… he had been lost in the woods… or was that a dream? Or was he dreaming now? Sweat ran down his face. He struggled with his wayward thoughts, trying to get them in some semblance of order.
With his head pillowed on Starsky's leg and with the top of his head touching his friend's belly, he could feel when Starsky suddenly held his breath, listening. Trusting, Hutch held his breath too and listened for… what was he listening for?
He reached up and tried to pull Starsky's hand from his mouth, to whisper the question. The hand clamped harder.
"Shhh, hold still!"
The words were very quiet and urgent. The hand clamped over his mouth slipped up to his nose, almost completely cutting off his air. It was hard to breathe. What was happening? He held still for a few more seconds… but he couldn't get enough air… He tried again to pull Starsky's hand down just a little. Starsky tightened his grip some more.
Now Hutch's air was running out and Starsky's grip didn't loosen. A thought crept in… maybe this wasn't really Starsky… maybe it was Colby who held him after all. He bucked his body and began to really struggle. He would not go down with out a fight. He grabbed at the hand over his mouth and pulled down as hard as he could. He got a lungful of air.
"Hutch… babe… please don't! Don't fight me, not now… they're out there… I mean, he's out there" Came the near-panicked whisper, still in Starsky's voice.
The arm around him began to shake. The hand clamped back over his mouth. It sounded like Starsky… but the actions didn't match the words… Starsky would never try to suffocate him… his fevered brain churned with confusion. Something wasn't right… he held very still and the grip eased from over his mouth, remaining there, but loosened to the point he could breathe freely again. The arm still trembled and the breaths came in nervous pants. He heard the soft 'snick' of the safety being turned off on a gun.
Another sound came from outside… at least Hutch thought it was outside… and he could feel Starsky… he was pretty sure it was his friend and the more he thought about it, the more is seemed… right. His earlier fear of the person holding him being Colby dampened. He patted the arm that held him. Rubbed it… the tremors slowed and the arm that held him gently squeezed him back in response and Hutch's breaths came even more easily now, he was truly safe.
However, something was frightening Starsky. Hutch knew it to his very core. Another sound and a rustling of… leaves? And Starsky's hand clamped over his hand back over his mouth. Hutch held perfectly still, and listened, determined to be of help to his friend, even if that help consisted of merely holding still and not making a sound.
After several long moments, Hutch heard a sound he knew very well, a chitter of a bandit. Starsky's hand clamped over his mouth again. Hutch smiled against it and gently pulled the hand away.
Starsky moved his hand firmly back.
The blond reached up and tugged the hand away long enough to whisper "Starsky? Could ya loosen your grip a bit, please? I can hardly breathe here" he could hear his partner's startled inhalation.
"Hutch? You awake?" There was relief in the brunet's voice.
"Yeah"
"Shhh… we've got company… I think it's Colby" The brunet shifted a little.
"I think it's a raccoon"
"Huh? Are you sure?"
"Ya got a light?" Hutch had to concentrate on each word. He was so tired and hot, he just wanted a drink and to sleep. He heard the –click- of the flashlight being turned on, then the sound of the critter scurrying away.
Starsky exhaled hard and collapsed against the wall behind him. "A damn raccoon! I thought that Colby had found us for a second there." He was still whispering, but not as quietly as before.
Hutch felt a hand brushed over his hair and the palm settled on his forehead.
"You're still pretty hot, partner"
"You're not so bad yourself" Hutch grinned, wishing he could see his friend's face.
Starsky snorted, "You're sicker than I thought, if you think that. All kidding aside, how d' ya feel otherwise?" there was the sound of water swishing in a container, followed by the rapid drips of water being squeezed out of a cloth.
"Terrible" He closed his eyes as the little adrenalin boost he had experienced dissipated. A cool cloth was draped over his brow. "Feels good"
"Thirsty?"
"Very" He could feel Starsky ease his legs out from under his back and move away. A few moments and Starsky was back, slipping his arm under his shoulders and lifting him up enough to drink without choking. The lip of the canteen touched his mouth and he drank deeply, then all too soon the canteen was taken away. He wanted to protest, but knew that too much water too soon would make him sick to his stomach. Somewhat satiated, he let his head fall back. Starsky caught it and eased it down onto a backpack pillow.
His eyes were so heavy now. He had to tell Starsky about his blindness. He struggled against his desire to sleep "Starsk?"
"Yeah?"
The cloth on his head was removed and replaced, the coolness of it beckoned to him, a siren call of comfort and slumber "I can't see"
Starsky snorted, "It would help if you'd open your eyes, dummy"
"S'not that… 'm blind" Hutch slurred out the words, he didn't hear Starsky's response, he was already asleep.
TBC