Chapter One-500 Miles from Home
February 10
Muttering to the guy across from him, John Gage rambled more and more incoherently. "It's my fault, y'know, Stoker bein' dead. If I hadn't tripped over my own damned feet again, Mike'd still be here, probably makin' love to that damn engine of his! S'bout all he does make love to I think. Whoa! Things're gettin' foggy in here…Thass some good sh—"
Recognizing the noxious odor, the conductor frowned down at the dark-haired young man passed out practically at his feet on the floor of the Observation Car; and then at the blond man grinning up at him sheepishly from behind his guitar, the newly-rescued joint perched precariously in his left hand.
Ex-Chief Master-Sergeant turned Conductor Ferris ran a tight ship, and he was NOT amused. "Put it out!" He roared. Quickly, the other man did so, as Ferris warned the blond, "If we weren't in the middle of nowhere, I'd make you walk…and if it were strictly up to me, I'd throw you off and make you walk anyway!"
He pivoted on his heel and stomped down the aisle and out of the car. The blond was checking on the kid just as another man with a riot of dark curly hair flopped down next to him, protesting. "Hey, what gives? It was my turn!"
Seemingly unconcerned, the blond grinned. "Yeah, I know, but Ferris showed up and ruined the party—right after the kid here passed out. He's okay, but there's something eating at him bad. I could only catch bits and pieces, but he's in a bad way."
"What, like, sick?"
"No, more like, I don't know, feeling guilty about something. I thought at first he was our guy, but I don't think so. He's way too young…our guy's supposed to be late twenties at least. This kid isn't much more than 20, I think. He was already half in the bag when he dropped down beside me and grabbed the joint out of my hand…had to be, 'cause one good toke and he went out like a light. If I hadn't caught it, he probably would've set his shirt on fire! Then where would we be?" Hutch flipped back the long ponytail that was really starting to bug him…he HATED undercover work!
Starsky laughed, "Yup, where's a good fireman when you need one?"
Neither man noticed the tears sliding down Johnny's pale cheeks.