Hi All,
As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read and review this story. The end is near and soon this story will be done. (Sniff) I am happy and sad about that. As soon as this story is done, I will start working on "White Nightmare" again.
Many, many thanks to the Usual Suspects! 6 days...
'Nuff said, on with the chapter.
Chapter 22
Starsky whipped around and caught Hutch as he collapsed, easing him to the ground. "Easy… I've got ya" He sat down hard under the drag of Hutch's weight. He didn't have much strength left either. He peered anxiously into the blond's face and brought his palm up to his friend's forehead. Hutch was hot. Hotter then he had been before.
He pulled the slightly larger man to him in a brief hug before allowing Hutch to lie back on his lap. Starsky glanced at the stream behind him and wondered about the quality of the water. They both had been taking frequent drinks from the stream throughout the night. But he could see a couple of dead deer along the bank. He might use the water for cooling Hutch down, but would it be wise to drink from it any longer? Hutch stirred in his lap, breaking his chain of thought.
"Wha… what happened?" Hutch blinked and looked about. "How'd I get down here?"
"Gravity" Starsky grinned down at him.
"Smart ass" The blond rolled his eyes woozily, then shook his head to clear it. He bit off the groan he wanted to make.
"You decided to take a little break, s'all." Starsky ruffled the fine, but dirty, blond locks and looked to the stars above for the strength he knew he would need to get them out of this mess. And he would. Somehow.
Starsky sniffed the air and made a face "You need a bath. All righty then, let's get you back on Paco and back to civilization."
Hutch looked up at him with glassy eyes, sniffed, than curled his lip "I ain't the only one needing a bath. If I go blind again, I could just follow your stench right to you."
"Ha, ha very funny" Starsky eased Hutch into a sitting position, got up and walked over to Paco and brought him over. "Climb on Blintz." He helped his friend onto the patient little donkey's back. They started off once again.
The night seemed to extend hours longer then what it should have been. Starsky staggered along side of the gallant little burro. The stops they made were more frequent and lasted longer. Hutch could no longer sit upright on Paco and Starsky slung the blond's left arm over his shoulder and helped to hold him in place on the burro's back.
At last, the sun snuck its way into the sky, slinking like a shy child into a crowed room. Starsky stopped when the burro stopped and he lifted his head to see why. Paco stood with legs trembling and Starsky acknowledged the burro's exhaustion with a tired scratch to the furry neck. He stepped back and eased Hutch off of Paco. He collapsed under his limp blond burden, and lay there for a time, simply too tired to move.
When a modicum of energy seeped slowly back into his muscles, Starsky took notice of the surface that was beneath him. It was pavement. It was a road. Hope was roused and gave him the strength to sit up and look around. A road meant people… people meant help.
He looked around at his surroundings and they were just as denuded and devastated as the mountain was. Starsky looked at the pavement, it was cracked and damaged from the heat of the fire as well. He had thought it was just the mountain that had burned, but he could see that the foothills were just as damaged. He gave a weak shiver as he realized the scope of the fire. The area was huge, hundreds, if not thousands of acres had burned. It all looked revoltingly familiar. He could almost smell the napalm in the air.
He blinked that thought away as he looked up and down the lonely, empty road, would there be anyone even coming through this area? Why should anyone come? There wasn't anything left. He did hear planes flying overhead, but they were too far off to be of any help. He could not see any homes or buildings and certainly not any vehicles. What if the road was not heavily traveled to begin with?
Starsky glanced around, looking for Paco. He spotted the little burro lying on its side in the ashes just off of the gravel along the road. He crawled over to its side and checked him over. The donkey lifted his head and slowly rolled onto his chest and lay there, blinking tiredly at him. The brunet gave the burro a smile and patted the singed, gray coat "Thought I lost ya there for just a sec there, Pac." Starsky could hardly recognize his own voice as he spoke, it sounded raspy to him.
The fire-wrinkled ears flopped once before the burro again closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
Starsky made his way back to his partner's side and looked him over. The three feet distance between Paco and Hutch felt like a mile. He sighed heavily and took a good look at Hutch. The sun reveled what the night had concealed. Hutch's face was covered in soot; he looked as if he was in black face make up. The blond lashes were curled and singed from the heat of yesterday's fire, as was the blond hair. Starsky imagined his hair was probably in worse shape for he had been further out of the water then his partner and exposed for slightly longer as well.
He shook his head to clear those inane thoughts away, realizing he was a little shocky and as such, that he wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. Starsky focused on his partner and concentrated on figuring out how bad off the blond was. He moved to place his hand on Hutch's brow and could feel the heat coming off of it before he even touched it. 'That's not good'
Starsky then checked Hutch's right arm. It looked awful. The arm above and below the filthy bandage had swollen a great deal. The bandage would have to be loosened or it would soon be cutting off the circulation to the lower part of his arm. Along with the swelling, there were blisters above and below the bandage from when his arm had been exposed to the heat of the fire when Hutch had panicked and tried to get out from under the shelter back in the meadow. Those blisters meant he had a second-degree burn. The pain had to be substantial. 'Good thing you're out cold, buddy.' He gently brushed his knuckles along Hutch's jaw, before returning his attention to his friend's arm.
Then there was the original injury. The wound left behind after Starsky had pulled out the stick that had been rammed clear through it. The brunet stared at the once clean cloth. It was filthy. Dried blood, pus and soot had blackened the cloth. He knew he had to loosen it, but should he remove it entirely? Or should he just leave it alone after he loosened it?
Starsky patted his pockets and looked around. He had nothing save the shirt on his back to use, and that wasn't any cleaner then the current bandage. Heat rolled off of the blond's right arm. Starsky simply stared at it for a long time. After a while, he gritted his teeth, loosened the bandage and peered beneath it at the injury. The red lines had re-appeared. Pus oozed out of the crusty entrance and exit wounds. The smell made his stomach turn slowly into a tight knot. The knot stayed there, every so often tightening a little more.
He completely removed the worthless bandage and let the wound drip. If it started to bleed, then he would rip up his shirt and use it as a bandage. But for now, the infection needed to drain. Starsky dropped the dirty rag and turned to Paco.
The little gray burro was sound asleep, his muzzle resting in the ashes. With each breath he took, ashes puffed away from his nostrils. The creature was exhausted. Starsky didn't have the heart to wake him. Paco had gotten them to a road. He couldn't ask the burro to do anything more, it might kill the brave little animal. He stroked his hand over the furry cheekbone and turned back to Hutch.
He maneuvered his companion around and managed to get Hutch to a semi conscious state, it was just enough to get him to stand – with a lot of help from Starsky. The brunet then quickly got in front of him, putting his back to Hutch's chest. With several awkward moves, he finally managed to get his friend onto his back. Hutch went limp again, apparently completely unconscious once more. Starsky glanced at the blond head resting on his shoulder and grunted as he adjusted and re-adjusted the weight.
"You're getting' ta be a little too big for piggy back rides, buddy." There was no response - not that he was really expecting one - so Starsky started off down the road. He couldn't spare a look back at the donkey, but he felt the loss of the animal's presence, and not only because he could have benefited from Paco carrying Hutch. But because of what all three of them had been through together.
Starsky gritted his teeth and kept moving. Hutch needed help and he needed it now. He ignored his body's increasingly louder protests. He ignored the pain. He would get Hutch to the help he needed or he would die trying. He was so intent on achieving his goal; he failed to hear the small tic-tac of hooves on pavement behind him.
XXXX
Paco had awoken to find himself alone. Completely alone. Bad things happened to those who were left behind. So he got to his tired legs, sniffed the air to find the scent of the humans so he could rejoin his new 'herd'. It didn't take him too long to catch up. Humans tended to be rather slow. He settled in behind them and followed along, contented to be with his 'herd' once more.
XXXX
Starsky wearily forced one foot in front of the other. 'Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walkin' across the floor. Put one foot in front of the other and soon you'll be walkin' out the door' He grinned as the lyrics to the song from some Christmas cartoon special played in his head. He had always loved watching those specials. He never missed watching any of them, except while he was in Vietnam. He mentally shook his head. The only thing he needed to think about now was walking. Nothing else, just walking.
He began to sing the song softly, it helped keep him moving, gave him a rhythm to march to. Just like his Army boot camp days. He concentrated on keeping moving, pressing on. He could feel the soft thump on Hutch's heart against his spine. He tried not to think about the limp blond head that lulled on his shoulder, or the infection that was dripping from Hutch's arm and on to his.
Starsky kept his eyes on the road. He had already tripped on the fire-damaged pavement and had nearly taken a header a time or two. Hutch was damaged enough already. He didn't need anything else to deal with. A cool breeze wafted passed him. He paused to look around and see if he couldn't catch a glimpse of someone, for anyone driving along the road. There wasn't. He felt his legs quivering beneath him, they hurt. He hurt. His lungs burned for oxygen, his legs begged him for mercy.
He growled and forced his right leg forward. His world had gone to a narrow red haze that was starting to go gray on him; he forced his left leg to move. Black started to color the edge of the gray. He moved his right again.
Then his left.
His right.
Left
Right
"Stop"
Left
"Starsk, stop"
Right
"Please"
Left
"Please, stop"
The words were whispered so quietly that if the lips of the speaker hadn't been so close to his ear, Starsky would never have heard it. He didn't so much as stop as he simply collapsed. He hit the hard pavement and got the wind knocked out of him. It didn't take much; he didn't have much wind left to knock out.
He lay face down on the pavement, gasping for air. It smelled of hot tar and ashes. It smelled like defeat. Hutch rolled off of his back, well, more like slid sideways. After what felt like an eternity, Starsky forced himself to sit up and pulled the blond into his lap, wrapping his arms around the limp body and holding on tightly.
"Starsk"
He leaned closer to Hutch, easing his partner's head into the crook of one arm; he looked down into the sooty face "Yeah?"
"Don't try to carry me any further… buddy. You're gonna k-kill yourself…tryin'… I… don't want… that to happen." The effort to speak took its toll on the blond.
"Hutch, I told ya before, I'm ain't gonna leave ya… so don't waste your breath askin' me to." Starsky hissed angrily.
"I'm gonna die"
"No!" Starsky cinched up his hold on his friend. "No, you're not… what kinda talk is that? Now hush… try to rest, we'll be rescued soon." A shiver slid down his spine. It meandered from his neck all the way down to the base of his spine, then it crawled slowly back up again.
This was starting to sound familiar. It was as if the two images, one from the past and one from the present were overlaying each other… a mirror image, a snapshot of a ghost from the past and a life… Hutch's life, his life, Jake's death… were growing closer and closer, like the pages in a closing book.
"Starsk?" "Slick?"
"Yeah Hutch?" "Yeah Jake?"
"I don't want to die" The blond man raised his hand. "I don't want to die" the blond boy 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 Starsk… I can feel myself dying…" a tear leaked out of the corner of one light blue eye, making a track through the soot on his face. "I don't want to die, Starsk…" The blond weakly squeezed his hand. "I don't."
"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"
"NO!" Starsky gritted through his clenched teeth. "NO! Not again!" It could not be happening again. Not like Jake. He couldn't live through that again. "I'm here, I'm here… I'm not goin' anywhere… and neither are you. D'you hear me? Huh? Do ya? I went through Hell – literally – to find you. You ain't goin' nowhere without me! Got that?"
Starsky glared into the light blue eyes of his best friend. His partner, the other side to his coin, willing him to have the strength to continue, challenging him to fight and keep on fighting. "Don't give up… don't give up on us, babe."
A weak smile quirked the corner of one side of the cracked, dry lips "S-sounds like a start of a good song. Don't g-give up on us, b-baby…" the smile faded, the light blue eyes rolled up and the lids slipped slowly down over them. The tension leaked out of his body and Hutch went completely limp.
"Hutch? Hutch!" Starsky jiggled his friend, trying to rouse him. He dropped his head down to the blond's chest. The heart was still beating and to his relief, he could feel the gentle rise and fall of Hutch's chest against his ear. He was still alive, but for how long?
Starsky eased his friend off of his lap and got his legs under himself. He tried to stand. His legs refused to obey him. He tried again. And again.
Fine. If he couldn't stand up and carry his friend, he would drag him. "I'm not giving up. Not on you, not on me… I made a promise to get you to safety, and I'm gonna keep that promise. Even if it kills me."
He gritted his teeth. If he couldn't walk, he'd crawl. He ripped part of his shirt off and tied Hutch's hands together, then looped them over his head so the bound wrists rested against the back of his neck. He had seen firefighters do this to remove victims from fires. He straddled his friend and proceeded to drag Hutch along. It was awkward, but it worked, for a time.
The sun climbed a little higher in the sky. Starsky never noticed. Nor did he notice the little gray donkey following behind him and his burden.
There comes a time when the human body reaches a point where even determination, no matter how great, will no longer suffice. Starsky's body was at that point. Stress, hunger, thirst and plain exhaustion had taken their toll. His hands were bloody and his knees were raw from the effort of dragging himself and his partner along. His arms and legs gave out and he collapsed, into a panting, sweating heap on top of Hutch.
He couldn't go on. Not one more step. He managed to unhook Hutch's arms from around his neck and took his weight off of his friend. He lay there panting, staring into the still face of his best friend. He brushed the backs of his knuckles against the blond's cheek, than moved his hand to feel for a pulse in the neck. It was there, weak… so weak, but there. He closed his eyes in relief.
When he reopened them, a gray muzzle lowered its self into his line of vision. He startled a little. It was Paco. He looked into the big brown eyes and swore that he saw sorrow in them. Starsky watched as the creature sank down to its knees than curled its hind legs under and lay down next to him, Paco closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Starsky had used everything he had and it was not enough. He barely managed to pull Hutch into his lap. He leaned back, using Paco as a backrest. Tears of frustration leaked out of the corners of his eyes and streamed down his face. He had failed. Again.
He let the tears fall. He didn't have the strength to move his hand and brush them away.
He was staring into space, not looking at anything but the heat waves rising off of the pavement. A distorted image of something moving caught his eye. It was a mirage. It had to be. The mirage drew nearer until it pulled up to them and stopped. It was a green Chevy truck. The driver exited the vehicle and walked up to them.
Starsky shaded his eyes with one hand and looked up at the person.
"Oh my"
It was a woman's voice. "Help" His word was croaked out.
"Oh my goodness! Are you okay? That's a dumb question, or course you're not okay. I mean you couldn't be okay, 'cause you're sitting in the middle of the road looking like… well, like you were in a fire. Which you were… in a fire I mean. Wow, is he dead? He looks dead. I hope he's not." She pointed at Hutch.
Starsky opened his mouth to speak.
"I just didn't expect to see anyone out here. There was a huge fire; well you were in it so you know that already. Hey! I know that burro! Paco? Is that you? Thank God you're alive! Jenel will be so happy to find out that you made it. I can't wait to tell her."
"Lady-"
"Cindy, my name is Cindy, but you can call me-"
"Cindy, please-"
"Oh right, you need to get to a hospital and here I stand jabbering on. I got some hay in the bed of the truck. I'll break a few bales and make it comfortable, I would put you in the cab, but there's not a lot of room, I don't have a club cab. I think he would be more comfortable back there, you too. Wow, you know, I bet under all that dirt and soot you're a pretty handsome guy. Him too."
"Cindy-"
"Right! We'd better get going, come on; I'll help you with him. He looks heavy. What are you waiting for? He looks pretty sick to me. It's a good thing I came through the back way. I couldn't get to the ranch through the other roads. They're all closed off the main roads to keep looters out. Not that there's much to loot. Everything burned."
Starsky's head snapped up and he looked at her.
"I know what you're thinking. I'm not a looter; I was just going to take this hay to the barn where I keep my horse, Hopeful Farms… Carol and Jenel's place. I've heard of horses finding their way back to a barn after a fire like this. I didn't want them to go hungry. That'll have to wait though. We'll get your friend taken care of first. I can come back later."
Starsky listened to the woman as she prepared the back of the truck for him and Hutch. He didn't really have a choice but to listen. She didn't give him one; she just kept up a steady stream of talk. He couldn't keep up with her. He didn't even try. She drove her truck into the ditch next to the road and backed up so that the tailgate was just a few inches from the bank and led Paco from the bank into the truck bed. The little burro lay down and started to munch on the hay.
With her help, Starsky made it to his feet and with her aid, they got Hutch into the back of the truck. Cindy chattered on as she handed him a blanket and a canteen of water. In short order, they were headed off to get Hutch to a hospital.
The woman opened up the little window that was in the back and kept talking. Starsky didn't hear her. He was too focused on making sure Hutch continued to breathe. Cindy had given him her canteen of water and he sipped it gratefully. He wet his fingers and dapped at Hutch's forehead, attempting to cool the heat he felt there. The blond was once again ensconced in his lap.
It all seemed a little unreal to him, this sudden change of circumstance. Moments ago, he was close to giving up. Giving in and letting go. Hope swelled a little. He looked at Hutch. His friend and partner. "You're gonna make it. We're gonna make it."
He dug into his pant's pocket and pulled out the two-headed coin. The cause of all this trouble. He felt a rush of anger. He drew back his arm to throw it, to rid himself of the memory of his trick. A ray of sunlight glinted off of the metal. Get rid of the coin and get rid of the memory.
Starsky swung his arm forward; at the last second he stopped and retained his hold on the coin. He had gotten rid of too many memories. But he hadn't gotten rid of them. Not really. He had buried them. Pushed them away. But they never left him. He stared at the coin. He didn't want to forget Jake again. Jake was a part of him. Just like Hutch was a part of him. And as long as he remembered, then a small part of Jake would remain alive.
He clenched his fingers tightly around the coin. He looked at his fist. "I will not forget again. I will never use that trick again. I'm gonna punch a hole in this coin and I'm gonna wear it around my neck to remind me never to forget again. I promise." He unclenched his fist and shoved the coin back into his pocket. Suddenly, it was if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a burden that he no longer carried. "You hear that Hutch? Never again."
Hutch's eyelids fluttered and his lips moved.
Starsky leaned in close "Did you say something?" He held his breath, hardly daring to hope.
"Promises, promises" It was a ragged, sarcastic whisper, but it brought a massive smile to Starsky's lips.
XXXX
Fullerton"What d'ya mean I can't go with him?" Starsky glared at the chopper pilot.
"I'm really sorry, we just don't have room for you. You can meet us there." The pilot climbed into the chopper and soon they lifted off.
Starsky stared at the receding helicopter until he could no longer see it. He was at the Fullerton Fire command post, where Cindy had dropped he and Hutch off. He had given her a quick 'thank you' kiss, which left her blushing and speechless, a feat that he thought would be impossible. He began to wander around the building, looking for someone to give him a ride to the hospital.
As he wandered the halls, a group of weary firefighters trudged by him. They were wearing dirty, sweat and soot stained green pants and yellow shirts. Those clothes reminded him of someone… "Wag!" Starsky yelped and grabbed one of the firefighters and asked to speak to someone in charge.
He was directed to the temporary office of IC CraigJohnston. He entered the room without knocking on the door.
The exhausted-looking man had fallen asleep leaning back in his chair. At the slam of his door, the man windmilled his arms and somehow managed not to fall out of his chair.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Johnston grumbled as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. "I told them that I wasn't to be bothered for fifteen minutes."
"Sorry, but it's important." Starsky looked at the maps spread out on the man's desk. "Name's David Starsky, I'm a detective with Bay City PD, two of your guys just airlifted my friend to the hospital. Anyway, I'm here to tell you where you need to look for one of your guys." Starsky gave the man the short version of what happened.
"You need to go up and look for him. He's out there. I hope to god he's alive. He saved me and my partner." Starsky leaned on his hands on the desk, unmindful of the pain this action brought. He had to get them out there looking for Wag.
"What did you say his name was?"
"I didn't get his last name, he just told me 'Wag'. I'm guessing it's short for Wagner or something along those lines. You need to hurry! I can show you were to start to look." Starsky scanned the maps, looking for familiar terrain.
"Wag?"
"Yes dammit! He might be injured and needing help right now."
"Did he look like this?" Johnston pointed to a black and white picture on the wall above his desk.
Starsky looked at it. "Yeah! That's the guy! You friends with him?"
"I was."
At the strained tone, Starsky turned his attention back to Johnston. The man was quite pale. "What's wrong?"
"You saw him?"
"Yes, you're wasting time. Time that man probably doesn't have. I saw him. I talked to him. He gave me this fire shelter. It saved me and my partner's life, he saved our lives by letting us use it." Starsky patted his back pockets, feeling around for the shelter. He couldn't find it. It must have fallen out of his pocket at some point. "Dammit! I musta dropped it somewhere. I'll buy him another one."
"I don't think that'll be necessary."
"Why?"
"He's dead."
"Crap! You found him then?" Starsky dropped his head in sorrow. When he lifted it, he noticed that Johnston was staring at him. "What?"
"You're sure it was this man?" Johnston pointed to the picture again.
"'Course I'm sure-"
Johnston cut him off. "Wag's been dead for five years. I was at his funeral, I was one of his pallbearers."
Starsky felt light headed and sat down in the nearest chair.
"You alright detective?" Johnston stood up, walked around the end of his desk and touched the man's shoulder. "Detective?" upon getting no response, Johnston called for assistance and had two of his people take the detective to Memorial Hospital.
After everyone had left his office, Craig Johnston looked at the photo of Richard 'Wag' Wagner and smiled. "You were right my friend. You told me once that the cancer might take your body, but that your spirit would live on in those mountains. Ya did good."
TBCAuthor Notes: I based the character 'Wag' on a real person who, back in August 8, 1949, led 15 smokejumpers to fight a fire in Mann Gulch in Montana. There was a blowup and supervisor Wagner Dodge tried to get the younger men to light a backfire. The young men couldn't hear him, or perhaps thought he had gone crazy.They didn't listen and ran up the side of the gulch, trying to out run a raging fire up hill. Only 2 of the 15 young men made it to safety.
Wagner Dodge survived the fire by lying down in the bare patch that he had burned out. He did not have a fire shelter. Some people blamed the deaths of their boys on Dodge, saying that the fire he started, had contributed to their deaths. But there is no proof of that. Dodge had gone to each and every parent to express his sorrow. Dodge was made a pariah and died from cancer years later. I thought he deserved better. If those boys had listened, they might still be alive today. That's just my opinion though.