Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just wish I did.
Feedback: I would love to hear from you.
Judas
By LovinFace
Standing on a rooftop, Judas shivered as the cold wind whipped through his black windbreaker. He slowly placed the rifle down so that he could snap the jacket, then retrieved it and returned to his stance once more, pausing only to pull a cigarette out of his pocket and placing it between his lips. Cursing under his breath for not being able to light up for fear of giving his position away, he waited for the man to arrive at the bar.
Thunder answered lightning and Judas pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck. The storm was moving closer and he hoped the detective arrived before the storm. He hated working in wet clothes. Then he heard it – the distinctive roar of the car as it turned the corner. It was time to get the job done. After tucking the cigarette behind his ear, he raised the rifle to his face, adjusting the scope as the Torino came to a stop in front of the bar. The driver got out, pausing to shut the door. The wind blew through his hair and he zipped up his leather jacket as he walked around the car.
In the same instant that Judas pulled the trigger, lightning branched across the purple-gray sky with a resounding crack.
It began to rain.
XXXXXXXXXX
Two days earlier…David Starsky pushed his head under the pillows when the alarm clock went off at 6 a.m. He searched for the offending clock with his hand and turned off the alarm. He had just dozed off when the phone rang.
"Dammit," he muttered, pulling his head out from under the pillows. He tossed the covers back and sat up in the bed, dry-washing his face with his hands. He picked up the phone on the fourth ring.
"It's 6 o'clock in the morning. This better be good," the brunette grumbled, falling back against the pillows.
"I got a note. It's signed 'Judas'."
Starsky pushed himself up, absorbing the words his partner, Ken Hutchinson, had spoken.
"Starsk, did you hear me? Starsk?"
"Yeah, I heard you. How did you…what…" Starsky's stomach tightened and his head began to throb.
"He slid a note under my door. See if you have one."
"Yeah, okay. Be right back."
Starsky placed the receiver down on the nightstand then stood shakily. He walked to the living room, knowing that if Hutch had received a message from Judas, then no doubt he had received one as well. On the floor about six inches from the front door lay a manila envelope. Starsky stooped to pick it up and returned to his bedroom. He positioned the receiver between his shoulder and his ear.
"Yeah, looks like I got one too."
"Open it. Tell me what it says."
Starsky's hands shook as he opened the envelope. He pulled out a piece of crisp white paper and read the neatly written words.
"It says 'Numbers 35:19.'"
"Hold on." Starsky heard the soft thud of footsteps, followed by the rustling of pages. "The revenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer: when he meeteth him, he shall slay him."
"Terrific," he replied, a shiver running up his spine. "What did your message say?"
Hutch hesitated then said quietly, "I am he."
XXXXXXXXXX
Captain Harold Dobey propped his elbows on his desk and kneaded his scalp with his thick fingers before carefully picking up the notes placed on his desk. "Who the hell is Judas and why haven't I heard about him until now? One of you better do some explaining. And don't leave anything out!"
Hutch turned to look at Starsky who was standing by the water cooler, staring out the window. Since his partner made no attempt to answer, Hutch replied to the captain.
"We were going to tell you. We just –"
Starsky interrupted his partner. "I wouldn't let him. I needed to sort things out," he said, a hint of anger in his voice.
Dobey sighed. "Well, we're going to sort things out now. We're going to start by getting prints on these letters and envelopes, and get the handwriting analyzed. Okay, one of you give me the details."
Hutch motioned to the empty chair beside his own and Starsky sat down. Hutch reached across and patted his partner's thigh and then continued with the story.
"We think Judas is Simon Marcus' right hand man. At first, we thought it was Luke, you know - the Keeper of the Flame."
Dobey noticed as Starsky clenched his jaw and absently rubbed the healing burn on the side of his face with his right hand then began pulling at the buttons on his denim shirt, but said nothing. Hutch noticed too, and looked to his partner in silent communication. Permission was given to continue, and Starsky stood from the chair to retrieve a cup of water.
Hutch continued, "Starsk has been having nightmares about his ordeal with Marcus' cult. Memories are coming to the surface about what all happened. We didn't say anything before because he still has gaps in his memory, but one thing he does remember is a man called Judas."
Dobey watched as Starsky returned to the chair and sat down. He wanted to chastise them for not sharing this information sooner, though in reality he knew that Hutch was just trying to protect his partner by giving him time to come to terms with what had happened during the 24 hours he had been missing. The whole affair had happened only three weeks ago. Starsky had insisted on coming back to work after only two weeks off. Dobey wondered now if perhaps he had let the detective return to work too soon.
"Starsk never saw Judas' face," Hutch continued. "But he heard his voice. He remembers hearing Judas instructing Luke during the time they had Starsky strung up on a pole with his arms behind his back. They had a plastic bag over his head. He'd get close to passing out and they'd release the edge of the bag so he could inhale some air, and then they'd start again. Starsky clearly remembers Luke saying 'Judas, this wasn't part of Simone's dream,' and Judas answering, 'No, but it's part of mine.' After that, Starsky passed out and…"
Dobey cocked his head in Starsky's direction. Hutch turned to see his partner sitting dead still in the chair, his eyes closed, taking deep, deliberate breaths. Hutch leaned in and clasped Starsky's knee. "Hey Buddy, we can take a break if you want. I can fill Dobey in later."
Starsky opened his eyes. "No, go on. I'm okay. Really," he said quietly, clenching the now empty paper cup in his left hand.
Hutch turned back to Dobey but left his hand on his partner's knee. "Starsky did eventually pass out. When he came to he was bound to a table and they … they were burning the shape of an inverted cross on his chest. He awoke on fire. Gail doused the flames but…well, you know the damage that was done."
Dobey recalled seeing the pictures taken of Starsky after his rescue from the cultists. The doctor had reported that the shape of the cross had been drawn on Starsky's chest with a flammable liquid, most likely gasoline, and then lit. Fortunately, it wouldn't leave a permanent scar, but it would take some time for the skin to completely heal.
Dobey finally spoke. "Okay. So we know he's out there and we know what he's capable of. According to the verse, he's the revenger of blood and is going to slay the murderer – Starsky. You two weren't the only ones working the Marcus case. Any idea why he considers Starsky a murderer?"
Starsky pushed himself out of the chair and walked back to the water cooler. He turned slowly and faced his captain and partner. "I don't know…I –"
Starsky's face paled and he began to sway. Hutch jumped up from his chair and grasped his partner's arm in an attempt to steady the man.
"Starsk, what's wrong?"
Hutch slowly guided Starsky back to the chair and pushed down on his shoulders, forcing his partner to sit. Starsky's eyes were clenched shut, his body trembling.
"Hutch, I killed him. I killed him with my bare hands." Starsky opened his eyes slowly and locked them onto his partner's face.
Hutch asked softly, "Who? Who did you kill Starsk?"
Starsky looked to Dobey and then back to his partner. "The messiah."
XXXXXXXXX
Starsky had not spoken much since leaving Dobey's office, not for lack of trying on Hutch's part. His revelation about killing the messiah had shocked both Dobey and Hutch. They had not found a body upon rescuing Starsky three weeks ago. Yet Starsky was convinced he had killed a young man with his bare hands. Dobey had recognized that the detective was shutting down, and ordered Hutch to take him home, hoping to let him decompress and possibly provide some answers to the events that had happened.
Starsky entered his apartment, immediately peeling off his jacket and putting it on the hook by the door. Hutch noticed he left the holster on. The brunette sat wearily on the couch, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
Hutch grabbed two beers and brought them into the living room, sitting on the couch beside his partner.
"Here, have a beer," he said, offering the drink to his partner.
Starsky reached out his hand to take the beer, but kept his eyes closed and his head against the back of the couch.
"Starsk, we need to talk about it."
Starsky finally looked at his partner with pain-filled eyes. "I killed the messiah. A kid. I killed him with my bare hands."
Hutch sighed. "Starsk, we didn't find a body at the old zoo. There was no evidence of blood other than your own. You couldn't have killed anybody."
"Hutch, I'm not crazy! I know what I did!" Starsky yelled.
"Starsk, nobody thinks you're crazy. Just tell me what happened. Tell me everything you remember."
Starsky closed his eyes, the memory of that night invading his mind.
A voice. "Polaris, meet the Messiah. The chosen one."
Starsky was still bound to the table, the burned cross causing searing pain radiating across his chest. He bit his lip trying to stifle the tears. He didn't want to give Marcus' followers the satisfaction of seeing his distress. From the corner of his eye he saw the young man, a kid really, no more than 16 years old. He was dressed in a white robe, his skin so pallid it nearly matched in color. Greasy blonde hair hung down to his shoulders. But it was his eyes that Starsky remembered. Pale blue, almost impossible to see.
Luke had approached the detective, leering. He cut the ropes from Starsky's ankles and wrists. Gail had approached then, reaching out to Starsky. Luke had knocked her to the ground, reminding her that this was all part of Simone's dream. Luke roughly pulled Starsky from the table, causing him to fall to the ground, gasping in pain.
The messiah had approached him then. "I am Messiah. You will kill me. Simone has dreamed it."
Using the table for support, Starsky had pulled himself up. "Yeah, well screw Simone's dreams. I won't be dictated to by that freak."
Luke grabbed Starsky's hair and pulled his head back. "You will do what Simone has dreamed."
Starsky glared at Luke. "In your
dreams!" he spat.
Messiah approached the two men, pulling Luke away from the detective. "It is time."
Peter and Matthew pushed Starsky down to his knees and held his arms behind his back. Luke handed Messiah a large hunting knife. Messiah instructed Peter and Matthew – "Release him."
Starsky immediately fell to the ground. With trembling arms, he pushed himself up to his knees. "I'm not gonna kill you, Kid. You're wasting your time."
Messiah motioned to Luke, who pulled Starsky up to his feet. The detective swayed, but managed to stay upright. Messiah placed the blade up to his own throat. "Kill me. Simone has dreamed it."
Starsky lunged for the knife, knocking it out of Messiah's hands. "I told you. I ain't gonna kill you." Messiah lunged at him then. With weak arms, Starsky pushed at the boy, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground, striking his head on a rock.
Luke rushed to Messiah's side. Blood was seeping into the dirt. Luke looked up at Starsky. "It is done. And tomorrow, you will die."
Starsky stared at the body of the lifeless boy on the ground. The only sound he heard was the weeping of Gail and a voice from the shadows. "My brother's blood cries to me from the ground. Vengeance is mine."
Then the world went black.
XXXXXXXX
Hutch had convinced Starsky to lie down after giving the details of what had happened at the old zoo. The blonde couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, a piece of the puzzle that should be obvious. He peeked into the bedroom to check on his partner. Starsky had changed into his sweats and t-shirt and was sleeping fitfully, his head rocking back and forth.
Hutch sat on the couch and opened up the files he had brought with him from the station. He read through Gail's statement. The woman had saved Starsky's life and he hoped that she would be able to get the psychological help she would need to recover. He read Luke's statement. He had only repeated over and over that he was the Keeper of the Flame and that Simone never lies. Hutch flipped through to the pages in the back of file, those dealing with Starsky's kidnapping. He scanned through the transcript of his interviews with Marcus. I dreamed your death, Hutchinson, so you will die. Then there were the pictures. Starsky's name written in blood on the mirror in the courthouse. The burned cross on Starsky's bruised chest. Close-ups of his raw ankles and wrists. The burn on his face. As horrendous as the pictures were, the pain that had been inflicted, it was the look on his partner's face that hurt Hutch -- a look of emptiness.
Hutch closed the file and leaned back on the couch. Closing his eyes, he realized how tired he was and decided to take a nap while Starsky was sleeping. He fully expected to be awakened by his partner when the nightmares came – if they came. They had come on with a vengeance before and after nearly a week and a half Starsky had finally been able to sleep through the night. But after today's revolutions, Hutch fully expected Starsky to have new nightmares.
XXXXXXXX
Judas crept through the apartment of the curly-haired detective. He paused, looking down at the blonde detective sleeping on the couch, one arm dangling off the side. It would be so easy to do it now. But that was not what Simone had dreamed.
XXXXXXXX
Hutch was awakened by the ringing of the telephone. He bolted up off the couch and grabbed the phone.
"Starsky? Why aren't you here yet? You and Hutchinson were supposed to report in 30 minutes ago!" Dobey bellowed.
Hutch felt his stomach tighten. "Cap'n, this is Hutch. I don't—hold on a minute."
Hutch put the phone down and ran back to Starsky's room. The sheets were on the floor. He ran into the bathroom. There on the mirror, written in blood, was one word. Starsky.
"Oh my God."
Hutch ran and opened the front door and saw the Torino parked in its usual spot. He ran back to the phone, "He's gone, Cap'n. Starsky's gone. His name's written in blood on his bathroom mirror."
"I'm on my way."
Hutch hung up the phone and walked through the apartment again. How could Starsky have been taken out of the apartment without waking him up? He was asleep on the couch, in the middle of the room. There was no sign of forced entry. It was as if Starsky had simply walked out.
Hutch dropped onto the couch and put his face in his hands. "God, Starsk, this can't be happening. Not again."
XXXXXXXX
The crime lab team had canvassed every inch of Starsky's apartment. They had found a razorblade in the bathroom covered in blood. They would have to run tests to confirm, but Hutch knew the blood on the razorblade and mirror belonged to his partner. In the bedroom, they had found Starsky's blue and white Adidas tennis shoes and the jeans and shirt he had been wearing yesterday on the floor by his bed. His gun was on the nightstand. His keys were on the hook by his door along with his empty holster. A pack of cigarettes had been found on the floor. They had dusted it for prints and sent it to the lab for analysis.
Dobey put his hand on Hutch's shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.
"I just got off the phone with the lab boys. The only prints on the letters you and Starsky received were yours, his, and mine."
Hutch nodded. "No surprise there. Anything from the handwriting analysis?"
Dobey shook his head. "Not yet. I'll keep checking with them though. I've put everything on priority. We're going to find him, Son."
Hutch turned from his captain and walked to the front door. "I can't just stand around here. I'm going to look for him." He grabbed the keys and left, slamming the door behind him.
XXXXXXXXX
Judas paced the floor of the downtown hotel, scrubbing the blood off his hands with a dirty rag. Tonight Simone's dream would come true. The White Knight would die, followed by Polaris. Searching in his pockets for a cigarette, he realized he must have dropped the pack somewhere. There was nothing he could do about it now. In just a few hours everything would go according to plan.
Judas walked to the telephone and placed a call, setting tonight's execution in place.
XXXXXXXX
Simon Marcus was ushered into the interrogation room by two police guards. He sat at the end of the table, much has he had just weeks before.
Hutch slowly pulled a chair out at the other end of the table and sat down. "Tell me where my partner is."
Marcus smiled. "What is old is new. I dreamed Starsky's death, he's already dying. I dreamed your death, Hutchinson. So you will die."
Hutch balled his hands into fists. "Cut the bullshit, Marcus. Just tell me where my partner is."
Marcus merely smiled. "Judas betrayed his master and paid with his life. Polaris will pay with his. That's all I have to say."
Hutch pushed his chair away from the table and walked over to the door. He turned to look at Marcus once more, then opened the door and walked away.
Marcus just smiled.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"Zebra 3. Zebra 3. Hutch – this is Dobey. Come in."
Hutch opened the door of the Torino and reached for the mic while sliding into the driver's seat.
"Yeah, Cap'n."
"You better come in here."
"Cap'n, is he….did you find…"Hutch couldn't make himself for the words.
"No. But I need you to come in here right away."
Hutch tossed the mic onto the seat and headed toward the police station.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Judas changed into his black sweats, black t-shirt, and black windbreaker. He slipped on his new black shoes and double knotted the laces. He walked over to the mirror and picked up the black grease paint. Looking in the mirror, he caught a glimpse of Starsky. You'll be dead soon enough, but the White Knight must die first.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Hutch rushed into Dobey's office without knocking. "What have you got?"
Dobey looked up at the haggard detective. "You might want to sit down."
Hutch leaned on the desk. "Just tell me what the hell you found!" he shouted. Realizing what he done, he followed up with a quiet, "Please."
Dobey sighed and pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead. "I told you the prints on the letters were yours, mine, and Starsky's."
Hutch looked puzzled. "Yeah, so what? That's what we expected."
"The blood on the razor and mirror was Starsky's as well."
Hutch sighed. "Okay. No surprise there. Where are you going with this Captain?"
"The handwriting analysis came back. It says that whoever wrote the note was more than likely left-handed, but wrote the letter with his right hand."
Hutch felt his stomach begin to knot. "So?"
Dobey continued. "I gave them some of Starsky's notes to compare. They say they're 90 percent certain that the notes were written by Starsky."
Hutch dropped down into the chair. "Why would he write the notes? Why would he—"
"His prints were on the cigarette package we found in his apartment. And there were other packets of the same brand of cigarettes in some of his jackets," Dobey added, and then wiped his face again.
"What you're saying is, Starsky is Judas." Hutch tried to wrap his mind around the revelation.
"Yeah. And Huggy called. Seems an anonymous caller set up a meet with him at Jingo's bar to work out details of a trade, but only if you come. The meet's supposed to go down at 7:30 tonight."
Hutch felt sick to his stomach, and remembered the drugged water Starsky had ingested at the hands of Marcus' followers. "It had to be something in the water, some kind of hallucinogenic drug they gave him. He believes he killed a kid. He really believes it."
He looked at his watch and noted the time was 6:40. "I've got just under an hour. If I'm right, they're going to have Starsky kill me then kill himself, just like the real 'Judas' did after betraying Jesus."
Dobey sighed heavily. "What do you want to do?"
Hutch pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the door. "I'm going to Jingo's."
XXXXXXXXXX
Judas dropped the cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot. He picked up the duffle holding the gun and went in through the back of the building. All he had to do was wait.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Hutch pulled up Jingo's and watched as the lightning flashed in the distance. Stepping out of the car, he shuddered as the cold wind whipped about him. He zipped up his jacket and walked around the car. He heard a crack and the flashing neon sign above the bar entrance shattered. It began to rain. Hutch dropped to the ground, then slowly raised his head up to look across the street. His eyes navigated to the roof, where he saw a man in the shadows. Starsky.
Hutch ran across the street and into the old apartment building. Taking the stairs two at a time he made it to the roof. He slowly opened the door. Starsky was standing by a television antenna. He was dressed completely in black and had black grease paint smeared all over his face. He had even smeared some on the bandage covering his right hand. Lightning struck and Hutch was able to see the blue of Starsky's eyes for an instant.
He approached his partner slowly. "Starsk. It's me. Let's get out of this rain, okay Buddy?"
Starsky stared at the ground. "I tried to kill you, Hutch."
Hutch continued to walk slowly. "No you didn't, Starsk. Judas tried to kill me, but you wouldn't let him. You saved me."
Pain-filled eyes searched for Hutch's face. "But I'm Judas. I killed that kid, Hutch. And I nearly killed you."
Hutch reached out to his partner and took the rifle from his hands. "Starsky, there never was a kid. They drugged you somehow and you believe that you killed this 'messiah,' but I promise you, Buddy, it wasn't real."
"It seemed real, Hutch. Me trying to kill you…that was real." Starsky slumped his shoulders, completely dejected. He looked up with red eyes and quickly dropped his gaze to the ground. Even in the rain, Hutch could tell he was crying.
Hutch reached out and lifted Starsky's chin, forcing his partner to look him in the eyes. "Starsky, none of this is your fault. You are not Judas. You are David Starsky. My partner. My friend. I trust you more now that I ever have. After all you've been through, after all Marcus and his followers did to you, you were able to fight back. Now, let's get out of this rain and into some dry clothes, okay? We'll talk it out at my place. It's going to be okay, Starsk, I promise."
Starsky nodded slightly, but said nothing as he wiped a tear from his eye.
Hutch put his arm around Starsky's shoulders and together they went down the stairs.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"How's he doing Hutch?"
"He's doing better Captain. He just went out for some pizza, so at least his appetite is back. The doctor said that there had to have been something in the water they gave him that made him highly susceptible to suggestion. Luke is probably the one who convinced Starsky that he killed a kid named Messiah. The burning and suffocation attempts were real though. He won't admit it, but the therapy sessions really helped him with coming to terms with what happened."
"What about the cigarettes? Starsky doesn't smoke."
"No," Hutch said, "But he did when he was in Vietnam. The doctor said that turning into Judas, focusing on his mission, made Starsky revert to his old habits of Vietnam. And even then he only smoked when he was 'Judas'."
"When do you think you two will be back into work?"
"We'll start back after the weekend. The doctor says Starsky's fine and you know Starsk….he's ready to get back into action." Hutch smiled at that last statement.
"Okay. I'll see you at 8 o'clock Monday morning. And Hutch, if you need more time, just let me know."
"Okay, Cap'n, but we'll be there Monday morning. Thanks."
Hutch hung up the phone and glanced at the clock. Starsky should be returning with the pizza anytime. He went to the refrigerator and took out two beers, sitting them on the table next to the plates he had already laid out.
XXXXXXXXX
Starsky retrieved the pizza from the passenger seat of the car. Heading toward Hutch's apartment, he threw the cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with his foot.
The End
