Safe House
Chapter 12
As Hutch rushed back into the room he was brought up short by the sight of a tall, thin man with his arms round Starsky's immobile body, rocking him back and forth and crooning meaningless nothing to him, tears steaming down his long, sad face.
Bernie looked up a Hutch came in. 'I'm sorry' he said, 'I'm sorry. Dennis was mad and I don't like it when Dennis is mad. And now Starsky's dead. I'm sorry'.
Hutch gently pushed Bernie out of the way then gasped as he got his first look at his partner. Bruises and cuts stood out livid all over the brunette's body. There were enormous blisters down his chest and on his upper legs, where a bullet wound also still bled, dried and crusted blood marking its flow down to the floor. There were other burn marks on the chest that looked like cigarette burns. He reached round to cut the bindings on the arms with his pen knife, but was brought up short by the sight of the brunette's red raw and bleeding back and left wrist, which was now twice its normal size and black as hell, with the silver coloured prison cuff still deeply embedded in the flesh.
Hutch gently touched Starsky's face, putting his fingers under the chin to raise his head up. 'Hey buddy, how ya doin?' he whispered gently. He realised his partner was fighting for each breath, an agonised heave coming with each intake. Starsky's eyes were frantic, as he desperately tried to suck in lungfulls of air. The lips were turning blue and there was a greyish cast to the skin, his skin cool and clammy. Trying to ease the brunette's panic, the blond started a litany of comfort. 'Easy there, ya big lug. Just try to take it easy. I'm gonna make it better, ya know. I'm here partner, I'm here'.
Hutch realised that if his partner didn't get air pretty quickly, there'd be more than blisters and broken wrists to worry about.
'Easy Starsk, easy' he murmured gently, casting about for anything he could use to make the smaller man more comfortable.
Starsky was pawing at his chest now, his actions becoming more panicked as time went on. He made a grab for the front of Hutch's jacket with his right hand, pulling the blond closer to him, and managed to whisper '…….thought you……….were dead,' as a tear escaped his eye. He hitched another ragged breath, before his eyes rolled up, and he allowed oblivion to claim him.
'Aw Jeez. Starsk, ya thought that all this time?' a lump coming to his throat. Hutch reached for the pulse in the neck, digging his fingers into the carotid, desperately seeking that life force. Eventually he found a weak and thready rhythm, far too fast for comfort. Hutch's mind reached back to his med school days.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? Crap, just hang in there Starsk, hang in there. How long will the ambulance take? Too long.
Looking again at his partner, he realised there was a discolouration at the front of his neck, and remembered seeing the stranger hit Starsky there with the side of his hand in a sort of karate chop. Oh god no. Not good. Not good at all.
Starsky gave one final shuddering attempt at breath, then nothing, the noisy, ragged struggle for each lung full of air finally silenced. There was a deathly quiet in the room, before Hutch galvanised into action.
Looking around at Bernie he asked 'Bernie, is there a razor blade here, in the bathroom perhaps?'
'Yeah' he replied, 'Bernie has a razor'
Hutch looked at the big man calmly. 'Bernie, Starsky is going to die unless you get me the razor blade now. Quick, hurry' he shouted to the fleeing man's back.
He turned his attention back to his stricken partner, hoping that even though he was unconscious, he would be able to hear him. 'Oh God Starsk! just stay with me? Ok? Stay with me Starsk. I can't do this without ya, just keep tryin' to breathe an' I'll make it better, but ya gotta keep tryin' Ripping off his jacket he rolled it into a sort of sausage shape and placed it against the brunette's back so that it was lengthways down his spine. As he rolled the unconscious man from the chair and onto his back on the ground, the shoulders and neck naturally fell back, exposing and stretching the neck backwards, so that the Adam's apple stood out prominently. Hutch winced as he saw the red raw back and knew it would hurt like the devil if and when Starsky came to, but breathing was the issue right now.
Bernie hurried back with a razor blade, still wrapped in its waxed paper, and handed it to the blond. Now, if he could just find something like a tube. He cast around the room, eyes searching, then patted his trouser pockets, finding in there the pen that the brunette had asked him to look after. Well, that's fitting, Gordo .It'd sure be worth $135. if it saves your life. Now, if I can only remember what to do!
Unscrewing the pen. Hutch emptied the refill from the barrel and broke off the very narrow end part where the ball point emerged. He blew down the resulting hollow tube, making sure there was clear passage all the way down. Not enormous, but it'd have to do.
With no time to spare, Hutch took a calming breath, trying to remember what Prof, Hagedoorn had told him. He unwrapped the blade and held it in one trembling hand.
He could almost hear the Professor's voice in his head:
Feel along the collar bone…. You'll feel an indentation where the collar bones meet. – do you feel that Mr Hutchinson? Now, feel right above that notch, there will be a soft fleshy spot covering a hard/spongy feeling area. This is the trachea. – Have you got it? Good. From here make a one inch incision, horizontally, across the trachea, making sure not to puncture the white membrane underneath. Place the tube into the airway then tape it down.
Hutch doubted that the good professor would have used a BIC pen however.
Trying to stop his hand from shaking he reached towards his friend's throat, hoping he was making the right call. He knew one slip would end the life in front of him, not mend it. He gently felt along the collar bone, feeling the familiar lump where the left had broken once. Towards the middle. Yes, there. Now feel for the trachea. Is that it? Gotta be – hard and spongy. He brought the blade up and positioned it against the brunette's neck, wondering just how hard he would have to press to cut through his friend's skin and other tissues.
'OK buddy' he whispered, 'you're gonna feel this, I'm sorry'. He pushed the blade hard against the skin making a first incision. Blood welled out, obscuring the view. Shit, now what.
Hutch looked over to Bernie, who was cowering away. 'Bernie, ya got a handkerchief, or a towel? Quick'
The tall man leapt to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen, quickly bringing back a reasonably clean pot towel.
'Wipe the blood away, will ya?' Hutch asked, as Bernie shambled forward. Hutch used the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat that was running into his eyes and making them sting.
Once the view was better, Hutch brought the blade back and deepened the incision until he was sure he had made a small hole. He took hold of the pen barrel and pushed it into the wound, putting his ear to the end. Nothing. Not a sound.
Frantically, he pulled the pen out and enlarged the hole with the blade, making the cut just a little deeper. He pushed the pen back in and once again bent his ear to the little tube. He waited long seconds until he heard faint but definite sounds of air whistling through the tube. Holding the tube in place, he sat back on his heels, breathing heavily, feeling relief wash over him as his partner's blood trickled down his fingers. The smaller man's colour was improving almost immediately, and although not normal, was at last not grey.
Feeling weak with the ebb of the adrenalin rush he had had, Hutch looked over to the man in the suit, who he'd hit earlier. He needed to be dealt with too. The blond looked back at Bernie, now sat by Starsky's head, gently stroking the curls and gazing lovingly at the brunette.
'Hey Bernie, ya did good there ya know. You helped to save his life twice over. Do ya want to play at policemen?'
Bernie nodded, eager to do anything the nice blond man wanted. He liked the man, partly because he didn't shout at him and partly because he obviously liked Starsky too.
Hutch went on 'I can't leave my partner. I need to keep this tube in his neck so that he can breathe. Can ya reach into the pocket in my trousers at the back. There's a pair of handcuffs. Take them and put them on that guy's wrists, OK?'
The tall man nodded and did as he was told, then came back to sit protectively by Starsky's side. He looked at Hutch and smiled. 'I like him. He was nice to me', he said simply.
Hutch smiled back at him. 'I think he likes you too, Bernie. Ya wanna go and see if the ambulance is coming, huh?'
Once again, the tall man nodded and headed outside.
Starsky was stirring, and Hutch immediately shuffled up until he could see those cobalt blue eyes as they opened.
He saw the pain and confusion in the brunette' eyes as they cast around looking for who was in the room with them. For one awful moment, Starsky was convinced that he's just passed out and that the torture was going to begin again. Hutch quickly explained. 'Hey buddy. No, don't try to talk. I had to put a little tube in your neck to help you breath and I know it hurts like hell. And it means I can't hear that lousy voice of yours. Don't fight it, it'll feel strange at first, but the ambulance will be here soon. Just blink once for no and twice for yes, OK?'
He saw the brunettes body relax imperceptibly, the eyes coming back to lock onto his. Two blinks.
Starsky weakly raised his right arm up and gently put a finger on the cut on Hutch's head, knitting his eyebrows in concern. So much emotion in that one little action.
Hutch realised that not only had Starsky suffered the physical abuse, he'd convinced himself that Hutch was dead and now needed to know what had happened.
'S'OK Starsk. I'm fine. I cut my head when I fell down in the prison van. I'm OK. You kicked that black buy an' the bullet just nicked the top of my shoulder. ……..Ya saved my life there Gordo'
One blink
'Yeah, you did, and look what it got ya. Hey, no one knew that would go down like it did. God, if I could just do it over again, I'd do anything to save you having to go through all this' he waved his hand at Starsky's damaged body, his voice cracking with emotion.
He felt that right hand creep up to touch his leg, the furthest the brunette had the strength to reach. With his free hand, Hutch held on to that cold hand and willed life back into his partner's weakened body
'Oh Starsk, I'm sorry it took me so long to find ya. You hurtin a lot?'
Two blinks.
'Where's it hurt most? Your back?
Two blinks.
'Yeah, they did a real professional job on that. God, the marks come round to the front here. It looks like…………Starsk, did they use a chain? His voice cracked as he thought of what the brunette had gone through.
Two blinks
'Shit! Just lie still'. He took in the rest of the body before him, anger spiking inside him. 'They shoot you in the leg too? What were ya doin, tryin' to escape?'
Two blinks.
'Jeez Starsk, did they leave any bit unhurt?'
One blink.
Hutch chuckled grimly. 'Ya know, I always did take ya for the strong silent type. Think I could get used to ya not answering me back!'
The hand he was holding squeezed his weakly as they heard the ambulance approaching. Hutch didn't even want to think about the damage to his partner's left, and dominant, hand and wrist.