CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Starsky moaned as he tried to ignore the various pains in his body. He knew that his most recent beating had broken some bones and the vicious slashes on his shoulders from the knife stung like hell. He tried to fight the weariness and lethargy that settled over him. He knew that death was close and he almost welcomed it. Almost. The hours of relentless torture had taken their toll and he knew that his body couldn't withstand much more. It took a concentrated effort to take a deep enough breath to satisfy his body's insistent need for oxygen. His faltering heartbeat echoed in his head, gradually beginning to slow down.

His eyes burned and the smell of the gasoline that one of Gunther's goons had poured over his head clogged his nostrils. His vision was blurred and cloudy, vague shapes creeping out of the shadows of the room. He shuddered when he felt something furry brush against his face, followed by a sharp pain in the side of his neck. He was too weak to shake off the rat that seemed determined to make a feast of his flesh.

He heard the squeak of the door to his prison as it swung open and footsteps came towards him. He struggled weakly as he felt someone grab his ankles while someone else grabbed him under his armpits. But he was too weak, too far gone to fight back as the two men carried him out of the room. They carried him for a short distance and then let him fall face first to the ground. Starsky lay there, trying to spit the grains of dirt and sand out of his mouth, the pain in his battered body washing over him even as the darkness embraced him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The roar of the gunshot rang out and one of the two men standing over the shallow grave fell to the ground, a well aimed shot blowing out the back of his head. The second man trembled as he slowly raised his hands into the air and begged, "Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me…" His bladder let loose, the front of his jeans darkening with urine, as he stared at the tall blond walking towards him, the smoking gun still held tightly in his hands. The blond's eyes were cold as death, an avenging angel sent to deliver God's vengeance.

"Where is he?" the blond demanded "Where's Starsky?"

"I don't know no Starsky…" the feeble minded goon stammered, falling to his knees in the dirt. His eyes darted to the dead body of his cohort and he began to retch violently, his stomach emptying it's meager contents onto the ground.

Hutch strode over to the whimpering scumbag and grabbed his arm, jerking him to his feet none too gently. "Where is he?" he hissed again "Where's my partner?"

Suddenly, Hutch felt the cold steel of a gun pressing against the back of his neck. Behind him, a cold, flat voice said, "Detective Hutchinson I assume. I don't know how you found us but if you came here looking for your ex-partner than I'll be glad to make sure the two of you are reunited. Drop the gun."

Hutch let the gun fall from his fingers, keeping his hands in plain sight. He silently cursed himself for making a stupid rookie mistake by not making sure the two men were the only danger to contend with.

Gunther glared at the dead man on the ground and the second man who was still trembling in fright and whimpering. "You're pathetic." He hissed "It's a good thing I have no more use for you." A gunshot rang out and the second man fell to the ground with a surprised look on his face and a bullet hole nearly between his eyes. As the second man fell, for the first time, Hutch noticed the fresh mound of dirt behind him that looked suspiciously like a newly covered grave.

Hutch suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest as if he were having a heart attack. After everything he had been through in the past few weeks, was he too late? Was Starsky buried in that grave? He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath as he waited for the bullet that would end his own life. Suddenly, his eyes flew open as a faint voice seemed to echo in his mind…Hutch…help…."

Hutch heard the shot but felt no pain. Startled, he stumbled forward as Gunther suddenly fell against him, almost knocking him to his knees. Shoving himself to one side, he fell on his side and looked up to see Huggy standing a few feet away, a gun clutched tightly in his hands and a grim expression on his face. Gunther lay on the ground, a bullet wound in his back.

Without any hesitation, Hutch scrambled over to the mound of dirt and began digging frantically with his hands. "Hang on, buddy…" he cried out even as the tears flooded his eyes. "Don't you die on me now you son of a bitch…"

Huggy immediately dropped his gun to the ground and ran over to kneel beside Hutch, helping him dig. It wasn't long before they uncovered Starsky's body. His skin was white and cold, his eyes closed. The stench of gasoline filled the air as they dug.

Hutch reached down and pulled his former partner's upper body into his arms, ignoring the burning fumes of the accelerant as he buried his face in those thick dark curls. "Nooooooo…." He wailed, the sound of his voice sending a chill down Huggy's back. Huggy's hand was shaking as he reached out and pressed his fingertips against the side of Starsky's neck. The skin was cold and clammy. Huggy was shocked to find a feeble pulse beating faintly against his fingers.

"HUTCH! HE'S STILL ALIVE!" Huggy yelled, grabbing the distraught blond's shoulder to gain his attention "DAMN IT, HUTCH! DO YOU HEAR ME? HE'S STILL ALIVE!"

Hutch didn't respond, he just held Starsky tighter and began rocking back and forth. Knowing that there was no time to waste, Huggy jumped to his feet and ran back to the rental car to use the CB radio to call for help. He prayed that help would arrive before it was too late. When he returned from his task, he found Hutch giving the injured brunet CPR. Huggy knelt down on the opposite side and took over the chest compressions as Hutch continued the rescue breathing. Concentrating solely on the immediate task of keeping their mutual friend alive, neither one of them noticed the sirens when help finally arrived.

When one of the arriving paramedics grabbed Hutch's arm to try and get to Starsky so he could access his condition, the agitated blond came up swinging. It took Huggy and three police officers to pull Hutch away so the paramedics could take care of their critically injured patient. Even Huggy's soothing voice couldn't penetrate Hutch's terrified mind.

"STARSKY!" Hutch screamed as he struggled with the men who were keeping him from his partner's side. "DON'T GO! TAKE ME WITH YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE AGAIN!"

Suddenly, Hutch's eyes rolled back in his head and the big blond collapsed as he passed out. The police officers gently eased him down to the ground and looked at Huggy gravely. In a tense voice, one of them said, "Okay, fella…wanna tell us what the fuck is going on here?"

Huggy quickly explained the situation to the disbelieving officers. One of them searched the three dead men for identification. Gunther was the only one carrying a wallet but his name was well known to the officers on the scene. Fortunately, one of them remembered seeing the flyers about Starsky which helped to confirm Huggy's fantastic story. Their attitude immediately changed as they joined Huggy in a silent prayer for the brunet that the paramedics were frantically trying to stabilize.