Next two chapters ready.

Still don't own anyone or anything.


Chapter Thirteen – The Wind from the Hilltop

Mary Polanski had no luck in finding the man from her vision in the mug books. Neither, much to his disgust, did Hutch have any luck in finding the ugly lurker from the previous night. Finally, in annoyance, he left Mary off with Starsky to bring home, and stormed off to have lunch at The Pits with Barlow.

"Hey, Hutch," Huggy said as soon as he saw them, "I got the lowdown on the gentleman of the press for you."

"Oh yeah? What did you find out?" Hutch asked hopefully. Maybe there was something he could discredit the man with.

"The man is a flake, but an honest one. Equally hated by the bad guys he uncovers and the good guys he annoys. Even my Cousin Sweetstick, who is something of the, dare I say, black sheep of the family, says he sticks to things like a dog to a bone, can't be turned away by threats or bribes." Huggy chuckled. "I gather Cousin Sweetstick has tried both on him in his time."

"Pretty much what we heard. Not that it makes much of a difference; we're stuck with him now." Hutch sighed, disappointed. "Starsky picked him up like a stray."

"How did that happen?"

Hutch gave Huggy a brief synopsis of the previous night's events.

"Sounds like Curly's gotten himself into some weird shit, m'man," Huggy said carefully.

"Yeah, and I'm not too happy about it." That was an understatement.

Huggy gave him a sideways look. "Seems to me like you've been into some weird shit yourself sometimes, Hutch. Remember Joe Collandra?"

"I haven't forgotten, Huggy. That's the only reason I'm going along with this as far as I am."

Barlow had been listening to the conversation in silence. Now he spoke up. "Don't look now, Hutch, but he's here."

"Starsky?" Hutch turned to the door.

"No, Kolchak."

Sure enough, the scruffy reporter had just come in. Spotting the trio in their booth, he ambled over to them.

"Ah, Bay City's finest. May I join you?" he asked breezily. Without waiting for an answer he settled into the booth.

"Make yourself at home," Hutch said sarcastically.

"So, Mr. Bear," Kolchak continued, ignoring Hutch, "Have I met your criteria for doing business?"

Huggy glanced warily at Hutch, who shrugged. It wasn't his business who Huggy sold info to. Reassured, Huggy said, "You have been checked and found acceptable, Mr. Kolchak, especially since I now learn that my man Starsky has taken you into his circle of acquaintances. It will be a pleasure to do business with you."

Kolchak smiled cheerfully. Hutch frowned in irritation.

"So, now that we're all friends," Huggy went on, "Hutch, the last time you were here, you were asking if I knew anything about Big-C. And you said that Mr. Kolchak here has been looking into the same question."

"Huggy, are you saying you found out something?" Hutch asked in surprise. He hadn't expected Huggy to come up with anything so soon.

Huggy waved an admonishing finger. "Now, I'm not saying that, no. But you asked me about a certain combination of ingredients, and I said it rang a bell."

"Yeah, and?"

"And first, if you gentlemen will excuse Mr. Kolchak and myself, we need to do some negotiation to cover my fee for telling him what I found. Mr. Kolchak, if you care to step over to the bar?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Kolchak said, sliding out of his seat.

Hutch watched in irritation as Kolchak and Huggy negotiated. Some bills were exchanged, and then the two came back to the booth.

"Where was I?"

"The combination of ingredients rang a bell," Barlow put in helpfully.

"Oh, right. So I called my Aunt Minnie. And we do not want to discuss what an effort the long distance call was, and I'm putting my phone bill on your tab. You remember Aunt Minnie, right Hutch?"

"I'm not likely to forget," Hutch growled. "Our time on that damn island was not something that either Starsky or I enjoy remembering."

"Well, I don't know the lady, so maybe you could explain to me?" Kolchak put in.

Huggy nodded. "Fair enough, since this information is for you as well. Aunt Minnie is a griot, a storyteller. She also dabbles in charms and potions, and is a formidable source on anything relating to Voodoo on the island where she lives. She said that the poisons from sea snakes and toads mixed together was a major ingredient of the potion they use to make zombies."

"Zombies?" Kolchak squawked.

"Not the 'living dead', but the kind that's really a live slave drugged into a stupor. They work 'til they drop, and this is the potion that makes them do it," Huggy explained.

"There's more than one type of zombie?" Barlow asked.

"According to Aunt Minnie there is, and you do not want to argue with that woman, you dig? She says the bokors make a living man into a zombie when they want to punish him, but that's different than when they bring a man back from the dead for revenge on his enemies."

"Yeah, I know all about that kind," Kolchak muttered darkly.

"Are you saying this 'C-dreams' stuff has something to do with Voodoo?" Hutch put in, ignoring Kolchak.

"I'm not sayin' anything, Hutch. It could be a coincidence. But it looks like combining those two is something that's been thought of before, and it was thought of by the voodoo bokors."

Hutch and Barlow exchanged a look. "So, should we try looking in the Haitian part of town?" Barlow ventured.

Hutch nodded thoughtfully. "It's worth a try. It's the only lead we have at this point. All right, let's go. Thanks, Hug."

"You don't think this is just a Haitian drug pusher, do you?" Kolchak asked abruptly.

"It could be." Hutch started getting up.

"There's more to this than that. Mary told you what she saw. Now I know what her vision was."

"Yeah? What?"

"She saw the city of R'lyeh, and the statue of Great Cthulhu. I think that whoever's behind this drug is trying to change reality and bring back the Old Ones from the abyss!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hutch asked in exasperation. He was beginning to understand why this man was regarded as a flake.

"I'm talking about the end of the world as we know it! If the Old Ones return we're all doomed!"

"What the hell are the Old Ones?" Hutch fumed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"They're beings from another spatial dimension. They ruled the world once, and they want to rule it again. This is all a plot by cultists to bring them back again. It all fits, see? The drugs make it possible for time and space to be manipulated. Then the leader of the cult can manipulate the drug users, and then they don't have to wait until the stars are right to call Cthulhu from his sleep! He must be the 'C' in C-dreams, the 'Big C' that the users see in their visions. That's what Mary's been seeing!" Kolchak concluded triumphantly.

"You're crazy," Hutch said flatly. He turned to go.

"Hey, wait a minute," Kolchak protested. "Listen to me. Detective Hutchinson, did Mary Polanski pick anyone out of the mug books when she looked?"

Hutch stopped. "No," he said shortly.

"And did you see anyone who even looked close to the man you saw watching your house last night?"

"No," he was again forced to admit.

"Ah ha! That's because it wasn't a man. It was a Pugwis, one of the Deep Ones, the followers of Cthulhu that live in the oceans. They're probably supplying the drug to the human cultists!"

Hutch stared at him. "Are you saying some non-human monster was watching our house last night? You know, the Chicago police were right. You are totally insane. Come on, Barlow let's go. Huggy, later." He started walking for the door.

"No, wait. Listen!" Kolchak tried to get in his way. "The Deep Ones are frog-like. Maybe they secrete the drug from their own skins! You'll never find out anything just randomly asking about Haitian drug dealers."

"Maybe not, but we'll find out more than we will listening to you!" Hutch was fuming inside. He'd been told Kolchak was a freak, but this took the cake. And this ranting madman was spending time with Starsky? He didn't like the idea at all.

Motioning Barlow to follow him, he stepped around Kolchak and stormed out of The Pits without another word.

When they were in Barlow's car, he slumped back in the seat.

"Man, that guy is deranged!" Barlow said.

"Yeah. I don't want him anywhere near Starsky. I'm gonna' call him and tell him I don't want him in our place again. And I don't want Starsky going home alone either, as long as there's people watching us. He can wait at the station and we can go home together." He reached for the radio.

Barlow put his hand out to stop him. "You might want to wait a minute and think before you do that Hutch. I don't think Starsky'll take that too well."

Hutch glared at him for a moment, but then dropped his hand, and sighed. "I suppose you're right. Damn it."

"I don't think you need to worry so much about him, Hutch. Just what do you think's going to happen, anyway?"

Hutch shook his head. "I don't know. It's just… he's so vulnerable now. I don't want to see this nutcase drag him into anything that's going to hurt him."

"Hutch," Barlow said seriously, "I don't want to interfere. But I'm your friend, and Starsky's too, and I think you're being a little overprotective. His mind wasn't hurt by the shooting, and as to his body, I still wouldn't want to try and take him on one-on-one. If you start treating him like a child, or an invalid, he isn't going to be happy about it."

"I know," Hutch admitted. It was something he'd worried about. But he needed to keep Starsky safe, and it was hard to know where to draw the line. "But it's hard to let go. Seeing him there in the hospital unconscious for so long, not knowing if he'd wake up or not, when I'd never…" He trailed off. "You don't know what it was like."

Barlow looked aside. "Don't think that you're the only one who's ever been in that situation," he said quietly. "During the summer of our sophomore year in college, Angelina was hit by a car, and she was in a coma for almost a week. I had no idea if she was going to live or die."

"Shit, Barlow. I'm sorry, I had no idea." Hutch was shocked. He knew Barlow and Angelina had been together a long time, but they'd never discussed details.

"The worst of it was, we weren't together then. We'd been going out in high school, but after we graduated, I insisted on breaking up. She didn't want to, but I wanted my freedom in college. But her mother let me visit her in the ICU, and as soon as I saw her there, I knew how stupid I'd been to ever let her go."

Hutch winced. The similarity of the situations was uncanny. "What happened?"

"I went to the hospital chapel and prayed. Swore that if she survived I'd do everything I could to make it up to her that I'd left, and get her back if I could. And she did, and here we are. But Hutch, letting go of trying to protect her all the time was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I almost lost her again because she got so angry with me for the way I was clinging to her."

"Barlow, I..." Hutch said uncomfortably.

"Look, just think about it, OK? That's all I'm saying. Because, like I said, you're both my friends."

"Yeah, OK." Hutch was happy to drop the subject.

"All right then. Let's go." Barlow started the car.