He could almost feel the hot breath on the back of his neck. He didn't move. The barrel of the gun dug a little deeper as a hand snaked around his body, deftly unsnapping his holster and removing the .38.
"You're a cop, right?" The voice was definitely not Lonsdale's.
Stunned, Steve blinked quickly several times, trying to get his bearings. "Uh… uh, yeah," he finally got out, "uh, Inspector Keller, San Francisco Homicide." After what seemed like a very long second, the pressure from the gun barrel disappeared. He closed his eyes, exhaling loudly through his mouth and swaying. A hand grabbed his elbow in support.
"Easy, easy, easy," the deep voice murmured, "here, sit down, sit down."
His knees beginning to buckle, Steve allowed himself to be lowered to the ground, his right arm still around his chest. Safely down, he finally looked at the face attached to the voice. A tall, dark-haired State Park officer, not much older than himself, was staring at him with concern.
"Listen, ah, that guy you're after…? He's long gone." The strong voice was now tinged with sympathy. "Why don't we get you back to the highway and have those paramedics get a good look at you. It looks like you took quite a crack to the forehead there... What do you say?"
Steve was shaking his head, "No…no, I gotta…" He tried to get to his feet again but the officer held him down.
"No, you don't. You have to let us look for him; he's our problem now. He's in a State Park. We can set up roadblocks, and we can get a helicopter up and see if they can spot him a lot better than you and me tramping around down here. All right?"
Reluctantly admitting to himself that the cop was right, Steve began to nod, stopping quickly when a wave of nausea washed over him. He leaned forward and dry retched. The cop knelt beside him quickly, one hand on his left arm, the other supporting his back. After a couple of tense seconds, the San Francisco detective relaxed and nodded and the ranger helped him to his feet, keeping a hand on his arm to steady him.
Gaining his balance, Steve flashed a small, grateful smile. "My, ah, my name's Steve."
The young officer flashed a toothy grin. "Dale Gardner. So, ah, let's get you out of here, all right? You okay to walk out on your own?"
Steve nodded. As Gardner turned and began to head back the way he had come, Steve stopped him. "Hey, ah, my partner… how's he doing?"
Gardner stopped and turned back, trying to put on a good face. He smiled slightly, encouragingly. "I'm sure the paramedics are taking care of him. I could hear their sirens when I left to find you so I know they're with him. They'll look after him, don't worry…" He tried to sound more confident than he felt; the lieutenant hadn't looked very good.
Gardner took a few long strides then turned, realizing the injured inspector couldn't keep up. He slowed his pace. After several silent seconds, he glanced back. "We aren't too far from the highway… you were almost paralleling it. It won't take long to get there then I'll radio for someone –" He stopped abruptly and froze, listening.
"Dale!" The loud stage whisper was coming from somewhere up ahead.
Gardner relaxed. "Jack! We're over here!"
Another Park ranger, this one a head shorter and with a military buzzcut under his hat, came into view, the gun in his right hand held down at his side. "I heard your voices," he smiled at Gardner, frowning when his eyes fell on the bloody and obviously injured young man behind him. Holstering his gun, he crossed to Steve quickly. "You're the 'Frisco cop, right?" he asked, glancing at Gardner, who nodded in confirmation.
Swaying slightly and trying to smile, Steve nodded. "Steve Keller," he got out between soft gasps.
The older ranger smiled. "Jack Duncan." He snorted dryly. "I'm glad Dale found you, you're in no shape to go walking around in these forests, especially after a fugitive. You leave that up to us."
"That's what I told him," Gardner offered with a short chuckle. "I'm gonna get him to the road and radio for a car to pick him up."
"Good," Duncan approved as his colleague started away again and he fell into step behind Steve. "Andy and Ricardo are at the crash site; they've got the road blocked off. And the firefighters and paramedics are there too."
Trying to stay on his feet, looking down to make sure he didn't fall again, Steve asked through clenched teeth, "How's my partner?"
"Lieutenant Stone?" Duncan asked almost rhetorically, suddenly unsure how much information he should relay at the moment. "They were getting ready to load him in the ambulance when I left. They're on the way to the hospital as we speak." He hoped he sounded optimistic.
"Was he awake?"
"Ah, I'm not sure, I didn't get that close… ah, sorry…" he lied, his eyes glued to the back of Steve's head, relieved when the younger man didn't pursue the subject.
By the time they reached the culvert beside the highway, Steve was struggling to walk. Gardner had slowed the pace to a crawl and Duncan had taken hold of the young detective's left elbow and was offering what physical support he could. Both rangers were very worried.
Gardner stopped at the base of the small hill that led up to the road. He glanced at Duncan, his brow raised then looked at Steve, whose head was down, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. "Ah, you think you can make it up there?" Gardner asked gently and the cop looked up.
After a couple of indecisive seconds, Steve nodded.
"Good," Gardner said quietly, glanced at his colleague again then sprinted up the hill, slipping the walkie-talkie off his duty belt and thumbing the talk button.
Duncan put his hand on Steve's elbow again and smiled encouragingly. "You ready?"
The younger man nodded uncertainly.
"Good."
Slowly, the pair started up the steep hill, one agonizing step at a time. It was tough going and Steve slipped a couple of times, catching his breath. Duncan's grip on his arm tightened. By the time they started to crest the hill, Steve was in a half-crouch, obviously labouring.
Gardner had finished his talkie conversation and approached them at a jog, reaching out to help Steve negotiate the last few feet to the shoulder of the two-lane blacktop. The welcoming sound of an approaching siren could be heard.
Steve, sweat mixed with blood dripping from his face and his wet shirt sticking to his back, was bent over, gasping for air. Then, without warning, he pitched forward. Duncan caught him before he hit the ground.
# # # # #
The sounds – voices, footsteps, beeps – were distorted and indistinct, fading in and out. He seemed to be floating. He tried to open his eyes but the bright, artificial light was overwhelming and they closed automatically, protectively.
He tried to take a deep breath but the pain in his chest cut it off in a gasp. He could hear someone take a step closer, could feel someone leaning over him. He opened his eyes a slit once more, seeing a dark void in the stark pale blue light above him.
"Mr. Keller, can you hear me?" It was the soft, mature voice of an older woman.
He blinked a couple of times, trying to get his mouth to cooperate with his sluggish mind. A moan escaped his lips. He felt a soft warm hand slip into his right hand, which was lying at his side.
"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me," the voice encouraged.
He curled his fingers as best he could.
"Good, good." He could hear the smile in her voice. The hand disappeared. "I'll be right back with the doctor." The shadow over him disappeared.
He tried to open his eyes a little wider, squinting involuntarily at the bright fluorescents above him. He knew he was in a hospital, the bed surrounded by a circular white curtain; the beeps were coming from a heart monitor to this left. He felt the pinch of an IV needle in the back of his right hand.
He was in pain. The left side of his chest was aching in a way he'd never felt before; he couldn't take a deep breath. He slowly raised his right hand to touch his chest just over his sternum; under the thin cotton of the hospital gown he could feel the wide tensor bandage around his ribcage.
He closed his eyes. His head was aching too. His right fingers found their way to his forehead, touching the gauze bandage that encircled his head, anchoring the large dressing above his left eye.
He let his hand drop back to the bed with a soft groan. Snippets of memory were beginning to come back – the red Chevelle, the blue sedan on its side, his partner lying unconscious in the back seat…
His eyes shot wide and he tried to sit up; the pain was overwhelming and with a strangled cry he slumped to the bed, closing his eyes. The curtains fluttered wildly as a nurse and a doctor hurried into the cubicle. He tried to sit up again but hands gently grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down; he offered no resistance.
"Easy, easy, Mr. Keller, just relax…" he heard the male voice just inches from his ear. "Just relax…"
He gasped for breath, his entire body rigid as he fought against the pain in his chest. The hands on his shoulders continued to offer support and comfort. He opened his eyes slightly; he could see the doctor nod at the nurse and she straightened up. She picked up a small vial and syringe from a kidney dish on the bedside table, quickly and efficiently infusing the pain medication into the IV line.
Within seconds Steve could feel a warmth on the back of his right hand which quickly started to spread up his arm; the pain in his chest began to recede and he relaxed, his body sinking back onto the bed. The hands on his shoulders disappeared.
He lay there for several long seconds with his eyes closed; his breaths became longer and deeper. He knew the nurse and doctor were standing over him, waiting patiently. With an almost relieved sigh, he opened his eyes and they both smiled warmly.
"Better?" the doctor asked and he smiled as best he could. "Good."
The nurse nodded at the doctor and stepped away from the bed. Steve's eyes followed her sluggishly then looked at the man standing over him. He smiled again. "I'm Doctor Williams. I've been looking after you since they brought you in a couple of hours ago. How are you feeling?"
Steve blinked slowly and swallowed, trying to lick his dry lips. Williams leaned forward quickly and picked up a water glass with a bendable straw that was sitting on the bedside table. "Give me a second," he said quickly, still holding the glass as he picked up the remote control and raised the head of the bed so its occupant was almost sitting up. "Does that feel okay?"
Steve, who had been holding his breath while the bed moved, nodded. "Yeah…" he breathed.
With a satisfied nod, Williams sat on the edge of the bed and held the glass for his patient to take a few small sips. As the doctor put the glass back on the table, Steve laid his head back on the pillow.
"Where am I?"
"You're in the Huntington Hospital."
Steve frowned slightly. "In L.A.?"
Williams smiled slightly. "Well, ah, Pasadena, but close enough…" he chuckled. "You were in a car accident in the Angeles Park. Do you remember that?"
Swallowing, Steve nodded. Then he caught his breath. "My partner… Mike… Lieutenant Stone. He was with me… he was hurt… Is he here too?"
Williams frowned. "Ah, I don't know, sorry… I've been treating you and a bunch of other people… Saturday night, you know… There were a lot of shootings last night…" He could see the younger man's rising agitation. Patting his leg soothingly, he stood up. "I'll go check… I'll go see if he's here. You just relax."
As Williams disappeared through the curtains, Steve's head fell back and he stared at the ceiling, tears of worry stinging his eyes.