CHAPTER EIGHT


Starsky pulled up the color on his leather jacket, trying to ignore the rain that dripped from his hair down the back of his neck. The trucker had let him out in El Paso where he stayed for the night but, he hit the road again the next morning. He had to keep moving, it was too dangerous to stay in one place for very long. He had learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago. A bitter smile tugged at his mouth, he had stayed too long in Mesa. It had been too easy to slip into a 'normal' life and forget why he was running and pretending to be someone he wasn't. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

He had caught a ride earlier that had taken him almost fifty miles before dropping him off in the middle of no where. He had been walking for over three hours and hadn't seen another car in that entire time. Then it started to rain, only adding to his discomfort. The rapidly darkening sky was accompanied by a distinct drop in the temperature. Sapphire eyes scanned the horizon, searching for some sort of shelter to wait out the storm.

A heavily wooded area on his left seemed to be his only option. Turning, his weary steps in that direction, he headed towards the trees. It was still wet underneath the cover of the foliage, but at least he was out of the worst of the rain and the wind. He moved deep into the woods before finally stopping. He quickly unpacked the small tent he had bought in El Paso and began setting it up. Reluctantly, he let his mind drift back to another time and another place.

Hutch had always loved camping and fishing. Starsky had always complained and whined whenever Hutch dragged him along on one of his 'nature retreats'. He had never told Hutch that he was actually more comfortable in the woods than he let on. He may have been raised a city boy, but two years in the jungles of Viet Nam had taught him how to survive on his own in a tropical forest. Those survival skills had been tested more than once over the years when he was on the run.

Once the tent was set up, he climbed inside and zipped the screened front flap shut. Spreading his sleeping bag out on the floor of the tent, he laid down on the soft down comforter to rest his weary body. He was exhausted but he knew sleep would be elusive. His every sense was heightened, ever vigilant to any signs of danger. The rain pounding on the roof of the tent was comforting in an odd sort of way. The inclement weather would help to protect his hiding place from curious eyes.

He lay there as darkness fell, his mind drifting back over the past two days. He had no doubt that once Huggy and Alice found him gone, they had returned to Bay City and immediately told Hutch that he was alive. He sighed heavily, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. He missed his former partner desperately. The pain of their forced separation was still as acute as it had been almost ten years ago when he woke up in that damned hospital. Sometimes, his memories of Hutch and the time they had spent together had been the only thing that kept him going when it would have been easier to just give up. He smiled almost bitterly. It was that bond with his partner and best friend that had sent him back into hiding. He would not let anything happen to Hutch, not as long as he was alive.

If they could get to his mother and Nicky as easily as they had, they could get to Hutch just as easily. They had been murdered because of him and he had made a solemn vow that no more innocent lives would be lost because of him, especially Hutch's life. It was a vow that he intended to keep. Still, seeing Huggy and Alice again had stirred the yearning for home that lingered deep inside of him that he had tried to ignore for so long.

He shifted positions restlessly. He had to keep on the move. He couldn't stay in one place for very long. He knew that Hutch would come looking for him and keeping on the run was the only way to keep him from finding him. Not that that would deter Hutch. He would keep looking. Starsky had told Hutch once that he knew Hutch inside and out. That he knew who he knew, he knew how he thought, and that he could predict every move that Hutch would make. The problem was that Hutch knew Starsky just as well. That would make him even more tenacious than Gunther or the FBI. But, even as determined at Starsky knew Hutch would be to find him, Starsky was just as determined not to let that happen. As long as he had believed that Starsky was dead, Hutch was safe. Finding out the brunet was alive would put the big blond in danger without even knowing it.

Every time he closed his eyes, Starsky's mind conjured up images of Hutch crawling inside a bottle to deal with his grief and pain. It was not a pretty picture and it only added to the guilt that Starsky carried deep inside. Hutch could be one tough son of a bitch, except when it came to Starsky. Then he carried his heart on his sleeve. And the feeling was mutual. Hutch was the only person besides his mother and his brother that had ever been able to break through the wall that Starsky had built around his emotions. He was intimately familiar with Starsky's vulnerable side. He knew all of Starsky's hidden weaknesses and fears, just like Starsky knew Hutch's secrets. It was that familiarity that had made them so good as a team. And now, that same familiarity could end up being Starsky's downfall.

Finally, Starsky drifted into a restless slumber. As he tossed and turned, subconsciously alert for any unusual sounds, he began to dream.

It was dark in the house but he didn't need a light to find his way up the stairs to the bedrooms. He moved quietly, blending into the shadows, as he stayed close to the wall. As he paused on the landing, he heard sounds coming from a room on his left. Nicky's room. As he slowly, pushed open the door, he felt a terror unlike anything he had ever felt before, overwhelming him. He reached for his gun only to discover that he wasn't wearing it.

As the door opened, his mind registered the grisly scene in front of him. Nicky was sitting up in his bed, reaching out for him, even as the blood gushed from the gash in his throat. "It's your fault, Davey…" Nicky's raspy voice gasped "All your fault…"

Starsky backed out of the room, shaking his head and closing his eyes against the horror inside that room. The door slammed shut, startling him. He turned and ran down the hallway to his mother's room, throwing open the door.

The scream ripped from his throat when he saw his mother's body, her throat slit, and her sightless eyes staring at him accusingly. "NO!" He screamed, tears running down his face as he turned to run.

Suddenly, Hutch was standing in the doorway, glaring at him. His chest covered with blood, a knife still sticking in his chest. "It's your fault, buddy…it's all your fault…" Hutch said, blood running from his mouth as he spoke. "We're all dead because of you…"

Hutch raised his hand, his magnum clutched tightly in his fist. "We're dead! And you're not!" The sound of the gunshot echoed loudly in the room and Starsky felt the bullet tear into his chest. As he fell to the floor and his eyes closed for the final time, he heard Hutch's voice saying, "You're supposed to be dead! Why aren't you dead? Why did I die instead of you?"

Starsky awoke with a violent start, the scream dying on his lips as he lay there, staring into the darkness, his heart pounding frantically in his chest and the tears streaming down his face. He tossed aside the sleeping bag as he sat up and drew his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his shins, he laid his head on his knees and began to cry; deep, heart wrenching sobs torn from the depths of his very soul.