ACT 4
"Haley, I'm okay," Chase said, talking through his cell phone in the station. "No,
just a few bruises. August is all right, too. He's just mad at me because we've had
our 150th car wreck at high speed." Chase glanced at August, who was seated at his
desk, arms crossed, casting a nasty-looking sneer back at Chase. "I gotta go now, hon.
I'll be home by eight, ok? All right. Love you. Bye." He turned off his cell phone and
sat back at his desk. "Hey, August?"
"I'm not talking to you, Mac," August replied grimly. He had put his feet down,
and was now concentrating on a case file lying on his desk.
"Oh, come on, August. Look on the bright side: we're not dead, are we? Hell, the
fact that we've survived another wreck can be a whole new world record. We can send it
to Guinness."
August looked at his partner with an annoyed expression on his face. "I swear,
Chase. I can't see how you can just shrug yourself off from a near death thing like a
severe car wreck. I'm starting to think maybe you should be a Nascar driver instead of
a cop. You seem to love demolishing cars and not caring whether or not death is round
the corner."
Chase laughed. "Hey, I'm sorry if I made you wet your shorts again, all right?"
He felt through his pocket. "Can I show you something?"
"What, your letter of resignation?" August asked wryly.
"Ha ha. No, it's this." Chase revealed a small black box. He tossed it over to
August, who caught it. August opened it, and was surprised at what he saw. It was a
genuine diamond ring. An engagement ring.
August's eyes widened. "Whoa, Chase. Is this what I think this is?"
"Yep. I've decided to propose to Haley, to be with her and Billy 24/7," Chase
replied, with a smile.
"I don't know, Chase. Don't you think this is a little sudden?"
"No. It's not sudden. Haley and I are really in love. Besides, it has been half
a year."
"Okay. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"What? What's bothering you, August?"
"Well, have you forgotten all about Nicole?"
Chase hesitated. "No. I haven't forgotten about her. I don't think I ever. When
she died I felt so damn empty." Chase was trying hard to fight away tears. "But when
Haley and Billy came into my life, they filled in that empty void and I'll love them
for that."
August nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I'm sure Nicole would want you to be happy, and
not wasting your years feeling all empty inside. And for one thing, Mac, I'm happy for
you, and for your future family."
Chase grinned. "Thanks, August. I really appreciate that, buddy."
"Uh, one more question, Mac."
"Yeah?"
"How much did you spend on buying this stone?" August asked, holding the box.
"Uh, ha ha. Let's just say it'll take me a whole year to get one half of my
pensions back," Chase said, biting his lip again.
August shook his head. "Geez. First that new stereo, now this ring. You really
need to restrain yourself whenever you open your wallet."
As he headed home for the night, Chase listened to Jan Hammer's "Crockett's Theme,"
from MIAMI VICE. He pulled his Prosche into the driveway and climbed out. He walked
toward the front door and saw that it was open. As he descended the steps, he saw
something that made his inner-alert system go haywire. The living room was trashed.
Commemorative plates and vases were shattered all over the floor. The glass coffee
table, along with some chairs, were overturned and broken as well.
He quickly drew his Beretta from its shoulder holster. Clinching it tightly
in both hands, he quietly walked over to inspect the other rooms on the first floor.
Each room was ransacked. Then, he heard a few sounds from the second floor. Cautiously,
he made his way back to the stairs and climbed the steps.
As he approached the second floor, he said, "Haley? Billy? Where are you?"
"Chase, help!" It was Haley. Her screams were suddenly cut short, muffled by
someone's hand.
Chase went to the master bedroom. As he entered, he caught sight of a heavy-set
man wearing all-black garb. Black hair covered his head. The intruder was seated on
Haley's favorite loveseat. Immediately, Chase knew who it was, and his instincts made
him lift the gun and take aim. "Hatcher."
"Well, well," Hatcher laughed. "If it isn't Chase McDonald, the current partner
of my former colleague in blue. We get to meet face-to-face at last."
"Where's Haley and Billy?"
"Oh, they're safe and sound, for the moment. Shiv, Fixx. Bring our 'hosts' in
here." Hatcher's two associates came in the room. Shiv held a crying, moaning Haley
with one arm, cupping her mouth with his left hand. In his other, a long and
exceptionally sharp bowie knife was pressed against her tender neck. Right next to
them was Fixx. He held Billy with one arm. The little boy was struggling, trying hard
to release himself from the fugitive's tight grip.
The urge to just let loose with murderous fury was hard to resist for Chase, but
he kept his stride. Not releasing his gun's aim, Chase said, "Let them go, Hatcher.
You want hostages? Take me instead."
Hatcher laughed a raspy laugh. "Sorry, Chase, but that's not how it's gonna be.
See, you, your lovely girlfriend, and the brat are all part of my little plan, which
is to finally put August Brooks out of his misery. I'm finally going to spill that
back-stabbing bastard's blood for all the hell he's given me. And I'm going to make
him pay, with interest." The Falcon paused to let out another snicker. "With his
precious trusted partner and his family as bait, August is bound to go nuts trying to
save you. The suspense is killing me. I swear, McDonald, I'd lose my head if it
weren't attached."
"I'll keep that in mind, Falcon," Chase replied, and thumbed back the hammer on
his berretta.
"Don't even bother, cop." A voice came from behind. It was Fixx. With his free
hand, he briskly took out a handgun from his waist, and fired.
It was a silent shot, and it made contact on Chase's back. Haley and Billy both
screamed. Chase knew he was shot, but it didn't feel like a bullet. Instead, he felt
an extremely sharp pain on his shoulder blade. He reached back over his shoulder, and
his hand came back with a large dart. Within second, he started to feel light-headed.
The whole room seemed to be spinning around him. His vision began to blur. In his haze,
he fell onto his knees, dropping the gun. He still heard Haley's muffled cries.
A strong hand took grasp of Chase's hair and pulled his face upward. Through his
blurry vision, Chase saw Hatcher looking down at him. "Tranquilizer darts, McDonald.
But if it wasn't because I wanted you to get August to come to me, believe me: I would
have used the real thing." And with his right hand, he backhanded Chase in the face.
The searing pain that ran through Chase's nose and cheeks made him collapse to his
side.
Instantly, he blacked out.
August was delivering a series of punches to the punching bag in the gym. He was
well into his paces, making little dancing steps as he jabbed at the bag left and
right, when his cell phone rang. It was sitting on the side of the boxing ring.
Dropping his hands with a sigh, he walked over and answered. "Detective Brooks."
"August? August, help us. Please." It was Haley.
August was instantaneously alarmed. "Haley? Haley, is that you?! What's wrong?
Where's Chase? Haley."
She was about to say something when the phone was taken away from her. Instead,
a cold, cruel voice came through. A familiar voice. "Hey, partner."
In less than a fraction of a second, August recognized the voice. "Robert."
"That's right, August. Glad to know you haven't forgotten me."
"How could I forget? What are you up to, Bob?"
"Well, it seems that I have your precious partner, Chase, as my hostage. Along
with his new bitch and their rug rat. For good measure, you know."
August stood, filling with anger. "If you do anything to them, Bob, you're
gonna wish you've never had thrown your badge away."
Hatcher laughed. "Who said that I've thrown away my badge? In my eyes, I'm still
a cop, and what I'm doing is justice. Justice that I've been craving ever since you
put me away."
"You name the time and place, and we'll settle this once and for all. Me and you."
"You got it, August. Griffith Park, main picnic area, two AM. Come alone, or
you're gonna lose another partner. This time on a more . . . tragic note." And the line
went dead.
August hung up his cell. He stood there for a moment, a million thoughts racing
through his head. He knew. He knew this was it. This would his last confrontation with
Hatcher, and it wasn't going to be a pretty one. He turned his cell on again and dialed
quickly.
James Harris was just getting up from his desk when his phone rang. He set his file
down and answered. "Robbery/homicide, Detective Harris."
"James, it's August. Hatcher and his goons have Chase, Haley and Billy."
"What? When?"
"I don't know when it happened. The son of a bitch just called me. He�s dead
serious. James . . . I'm gonna need your help."
Chase was coming in and out of consciousness. Just when he thought the whole ordeal
was over, another fist came down hard on his face. He opened his eyes to see Fixx,
Shiv, and Hatcher looking down at him with vicious-looking smiles on their faces.
Chase noticed that he was seated in a wooden chair, his left hand cuffed to the
chair's armrest. He also realized that he had lost his shirt and coat. Only his tank
top covered his upper torso. The light was dim and weak, and the room they were in
was almost completely dark.
Just then, Fixx had let loose with another jab to Chase's face. The punch rocked
the cop on his heels, and he grunted in pain. Blood slowly trickled from swollen lip.
Barely a second after the hurt in his face was getting any worse, Chase felt another
pain that had hurt more than getting slugged. A hot, sharp blade had sliced him
severely on his bare left arm. He yelled out. He tried hard to fight the pain. He
looked up to see Shiv, holding a big gutting knife, and smiling a devilish grin.
Then, Chase caught a glimpse of Hatcher pouring a white powder in the palm of his
hand from a small container, which read, "Iodized salt."
Chase shook his head. "No . . . NO!" Without hesitation, the Falcon quickly
thrusted his hand, filled with salt, onto the bloody laceration on Chase's arm. The
mixture of salt with blood sent a wave of excruciating ache through Chase's limb. A
blood-curdling scream escaped from his lips. "Aaaaagghhhh! You bastards!" he yelled
between grunts of pain. He spit blood out of his mouth, then looked up at them with
look that rivaled their own. "I'm gonna kill every one of you when I get out of here!"
"Spare us, cop. There�s nothing you could do now," Shiv said, fondling the blade
of his knife.
"What a tough little soldier you are, McDonald," Hatcher remarked. "He seems to
enjoy the punishment, guys. Why don't you give him some more?"
Fixx laughed. "With pleasure." The convict exploded his right fist into Chase's
nose, violently whiplashing the cop's head backward.
Ten minutes before two AM, August pulled his car into the parking lot of Griffith
Park. Killing the engine, he turned to Harris, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
"God, am I glad that my car was finished from the shop in time for this."
"Yeah, great timing."
They got out of the car and closed the doors quietly. Except for a few street
lamps around the area, the place was shrouded in darkness. Harris followed August to
the trunk of the car. "Okay, August. Do we have a plan, or do we just burst in and
raise hell?"
August chuckled. "I would prefer to use your second idea, but I don't wanna
risk getting Chase, Haley, and Billy killed in the process." He lifted off a gray
cloth blanket to reveal two guns: a Taurus model, which was an exact twin of the piece
that August carried, and an Uzi submachine gun fitted with a black strap.
Harris whistled lightly at August's gun collection. "Wow. Treat yourself to some
early birthday presents?"
"Insurance. My motto is 'always be prepared.'" He took of his coat and laid in
it the trunk, then slipped into a black leather jacket he took from a large duffle
back. He picked up the Taurus and tucked into the waistband of his pants, pulling his
shirt out so that it hung over, concealing the weapon.
Harris said, "You know, I think my insurance is running out. Mind if I use some
of yours?"
August handed him the Uzi. "Thing you can handle this baby?"
Harris took the weapon, holding it up to check it out in the dim moonlight. Then
He turned back to August and held the weapon at waist-level in both hands. A wicked
smiled graced his face. August looked at him. "It's definitely you."
"Where the hell did you get this thing, August?"
"Chase gave it to me. We tackled some computer chip thieves that liked to dress
like Halloween monsters. For some reason, he kept it in his trunk, so I guess I can do
just the same."
"Oh," James said, adding, "Wonder if Chase has a Desert Eagle he doesn't need
anymore." He slipped the Uzi strap over his shoulder and adjusted it a bit.
Moments later, they were sprinting silently down the dark path towards the park
picnic area. They came to a fork in the path. "Okay, James. I'm going to the picnic
area. I want you to find a place where you're out of sight, but where you can come out
easily in case of trouble."
"Sure, but where?" Harris asked.
August took a look around, and pointed. "There. You see those dirt hills with
those clumps of trees?"
Harris looked where August pointed. "The hills next to the picnic area?"
"Yeah. Try hiding in one of those hills and keep watch. If need be, spit some lead
on the competition."
"You got it, coach," Harris replied, and took off on the right lane of the path's
fork.
August headed toward the picnic area, taking out his gun just incase. The area
was completely silent, except for the occasional down-shifting of Mack trucks on a
nearby road. And it was dark. The only images August could see in the darkness were
several other dirt hills. One was at least ten feet away in front of him, and some
others surrounded the picnic area. He could also see a medium-sized shack, possibly
a place to hold the park's landscape equipment. He held his Taurus in both hands, ready
for the first sign of danger.
Suddenly, high-pitched voices rang in the night. "Help! Somebody help us! We're up
here!" August looked around frantically, searching for the source of the calls.
Instantaneously, a few wooden lampposts that were perched on the dirt hills went
on. On the hill to his right, a lamp was turned on to reveal Haley and Billy Stone, bound
to a wide oak tree.
"Uncle August, watch out. They�ll kill you!" It was Billy. Though only at five
years old, the little boy was able to sense the impending danger surrounding
themselves.
"Don't worry! Everything's gonna be fine!" August shouted back.
"Like hell it'll be." The voice came from the shadows. Turning his combat sense
on, August lifted his gun and took aim. The voice came from the hill in front of him.
It belonged to Hatcher. The Falcon came bounding down from the front hill. As soon as
he landed on the flat picnic area, he started walking towards his former partner. He
stopped only a few feet away. "Long time, no see, ,ugust." Hatcher said.
"Not long enough, Bob. I see that you still have that fire in your eyes, just
itching to kill me."
Hatcher chuckled without putting much humor behind it. "You guessed it. I'm not
going to stop until I make your body a boarding house for maggots."
August stood his ground. "Where's Chase?"
"He's in good hands." Hatcher made a signal with his left hand. Suddenly, a light
lit up in the shack on the front hill, showing two figures from an open window, one who
was standing, and another who was seated. August gasped when he saw that the figure
sitting down was Chase, who was bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth. His eyes
were barely open. Nearly unconscious, Chase looked at August, through slanted vision.
He moaned out hoarsely, "August . . . "
August held his breath again when he realized that the other figure in the shack
was none other than Shiv Keyes, with a huge knife's blade pressed against Chase's neck,
ready to slice at Hatcher's signal.
The look of his most trusted partner all busted up, plus seeing Haley and Billy's
innocent existence shattered, sent a surge of anger running through August's system. In
a fury, he pointed the Taurus right on Hatcher's face.
"Bob, if you don't let them go, I'll execute you right now. I'll throw my career
away. I don't care. I'll kill you right here, right now." His gun hand was shivering,
literally, with anger.
Hatcher grinned, not showing any fear whatsoever. "Ha ha. You won't dare kill me,
August, because if you do, that's the signal to waste the little lady and her brat."
August turned to see Fixx Clifford standing near the tree where Haley and Billy were
being held. The two screamed when the long-haired convict came toward them.
"Hey, cop. Does the name Hiroshima ring a bell?" Fixx shouted from up the hill.
He tugged on the rope that held Haley and Billy. Attached to the rope was a hand
grenade, with its safety pin near to the point of being released.
Slowly, August lowered his gun. He switched gazes from Hatcher, to Chase with
the knife pressed to his throat, to Fixx with his murderous intent to blow up Haley
and Billy. At the same time, he was silently wondering what plan Harris was working
out, and when he could strike.
"Looks like there's no way to go for you and your friends, August," Hatcher
said. "After what you've done to me, August . . . there's hell to pay. And it's time
to pay the piper."
Hatcher quickly nodded to Fixx. The convict was reaching to pull the pin out of
the grenade when a multiple burst of gunfire suddenly cracked in the air. Haley and
Billy screamed. August looked just in time to see several bullets enter Fixx's
midsection, rocking the fugitive off his heels. With a scream, Fixx toppled off to
the other side of the hill. August and Hatcher saw Haris step out from behind one of
the hills, the barrel of the Uzi smoking.
Hatcher stared in surprised. "Who the hell . . . ?"
Harris just held his weapon at waist-level and smiled at the Falcon. "Uzi for
you," he said.
With fear in his eyes, Hatcher turned and ran. In his sprint, he yelled out,
"Finish McDonald!"
Shiv had just started to drag the knife across Chase's throat when August lifted
his gun and fired a single round. The shot hit Shiv in the shoulder, and he stumbled
back.
"Chase! Get the hell out of there!" August yelled.
Chase managed to more or less fall out of the chair. August reached under his
shirt, drawing his second Taurus, and took aim for the window. He squeezed the trigger
and fired double-fisted lead through the window. Shiv managed to miss the onslaught by
ducking. The bullets hit the shack's light bulb, sending a shower of sparks into the
air. Picking up his own gun that lay on a small table, Shiv ran to the shack's window
and fired at August.
August threw himself sideways and landed behind a picnic table to avoid Shiv's
attack. Bullets hit the table, scattering wood chips into space. Shiv adjusted the
aim of his gun at August once more. All of a sudden, he felt a hard, solid object
slam into his back. As he landed on the ground, Shiv turned onto his back to see Chase
holding the wooden chair, now in tattered pieces after the impact.
August looked over the table and didn't see any movement in the shack. He
turned to Harris. "James! Get Haley and Billy back to the car!" he shouted, then took
off into the night in pursuit of Hatcher.
Still handcuffed to it, Chase held the chair high, ready to pummel Shiv with it
once more. "You didn't think I was playing opossum, did you?" Chase asked. But another
dizzying wave struck his head, clouding his vision. In his stupor, Chase staggered. He
groaned as he tried to fight his wooziness.
Seeing that the moment was his, Shiv mounted his attack. While still in a
crouching position, he let his left leg buckle. The kick smashed Chase in the ribs,
sending the cop reeling. As Chase managed to catch his balanced, he wobbled lightly,
thanks to the after effects of the knockout poison in his system.
"I'm gonna cut you up like a Thanksgiving turkey, McDonald. Yer gonna die real
slow." Shiv grabbed the big gutting knife from where it had fallen onto the floor.
"Speak for yourself," Chase said quietly. The two circled each other, ready
to strike. Shiv launched his knife hand towards Chase, nearly slicing his abdomen.
Chase jumped back, expertly dodging the attack. At the same time, Chase swung the
chair at him, but Shiv managed to duck the swipe. As he ducked, he veered the knife
towards Chase's right arm, slicing it. Chase shrieked in pain. With his free hand,
Shiv backfisted Chase in the face, making him topple over onto his side.
Immensely exhausted, and hurt from his severe arm wounds, Chase helplessly
laid on the floor. He saw Shiv standing two feet away, laughing. "Looks like I won,
cop. I'll see you in hell." He flipped the knife with his hand, and caught the blade
with his fingers, then threw the weapon aiming for Chase's face.
But as soon as the knife came close in making his forehead a target, Chase moved
his head to his right, dodging the weapon. The blade went into the shack's wooden wall
and stuck there. Chase noticed that the knife was within easy reach for him. Shiv
noticed that, too, with a horrified expression on his face.
Quickly, Chase grabbed the hilt of the knife and tossed it back to its original
handler. This time, it reached its target perfectly. The knife landed blade-first in
Shiv's upper chest, where the base of the throat met with the chest. Shiv screeched in
pain as he was thrown back from his sudden blow. He careened on the wall and slumped
over to the floor in a heap.
Chase got up on his elbows, slowly and weakly. He was startled when someone had
suddenly burst through the shack door, holding an Uzi.
"Chase!" It was Harris. He shouldered the Uzi and helped Chase off the floor. He
put his arm around his shoulders and helped him walk out. Chase moaned in pain. "You
okay?" Harris asked. "You look like hell."
"I'm aware of that, James, thanks," Chase said, weakly forming a smile. "Haley,
Billy . . . Where are they?"
"They're all right," he said as they stepped out of the shack. "They're back at
August's car in the lot."
"Where's August?"
"He took of after Hatcher. Come on. Let's get you out of here and we can--"
Harris' voice was suddenly cut off when something bounced against his shoe. "What the
hell?" He looked down, squinting in the dark, and his eyes widened in horror.
"What is it?" Chase asked. He was leaning his head back in exhaustion, gazing
up at the star-filled sky.
"Grenade!" Harris yelled, and started moving as quick as he could with Chase.
They were only a few yards away with the bomb detonated. The explosion threw them
forward onto the ground. They crashed into one of the large ditches the landscape
teams had dug into the ground, for new water or gas lines.
"Hey, cop. I'm not done with you yet." It was Fixx, holding a bullet-ridden
Kevlar vest in his hand. He dropped it and took another grenade from his pants pocket.
"Where are ya, cop? I wanna bomb your ass." Fixx reached under his coat with his other
hand and took out a .357 Magnum pistol.
Harris slowly lifted his head, looking over the edge of the ditch. He saw Fixx
standing not far from their hiding place, the dim light of the lamps providing some
illumination. The dark of the night prevented the convict from completely seeing the
cops. Harris crouched back down. Chase was lying on the ground.
Harris whispered, "I'm going to try to nail this guy again."
Chase looked up tiredly. "Shoot to kill, James."
James nodded solemnly, then climbed out of the ditch quietly. He raised the Uzi
as he walked towards Fixx.
Snap!
Harris looked down as he realized he had stepped on a twig, and looked up just as
Fixx was turning to see what had made the sound. Harris fired the Uzi, but Fixx managed
to dodge the attack, firing randomly with his .357 as he ran off.
James ran towards the direction Fixx had escaped to, and spotted him running near
a few stone formations. "Fixx! Don't move!" He pointed the Uzi to prove his point.
But the convict wasn't convinced. He fired his Magnum again, with the intent of
blowing the cop's brain matter out. Harris ducked behind a boulder. When Fixx stopped
firing, Harris aimed the Uzi and fired. He ran out from behind his rock shield and
continued spraying lead at the fugitive, who ran behind more formations.
Harris wasn't far behind where Fixx hid. The cop crept closer to get a better
aim. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of Fixx tossing another grenade, one that was very
much alive. Harris noticed it was the kind of grenade that, when held, it would delay
its detonation. He quickly grabbed it from the ground and held it in a tight grip.
"I think this is yours, Fixx!" Harris yelled out. "Merry freakin' Christmas!" He
tossed the grenade back over the rock.
The grenade landed near the fugitive's feet. With stupefied horror, Fixx suddenly
remembered that he held a pin less grenade, and not the tight-grip anti-detonation type,
in his hand that he was about to throw. The other was still by his feet. He didn't get
the chance to react. Both grenades exploded, spitting a double dose of fire and shrapnel
in the air.
Harris ducked back behind the rock as the explosion rang out, sending chunks of
dirt toward him. When he looked back, he saw only chunks of smoking rock, apparently all
that was left of Fixx's hiding spot, and the convict himself.
"We all wanna go out with a bang," Harris muttered to himself.
EPILOGUE
August sprinted through the park towards the observatory. With a guns in each hand, he
was ready for anything. He paced through the park, coming by the archangel-style
Griffith statues. A few light posts illuminated the area, but the shrouded darkness was
still strong.
Peering through the obscurity, he couldn't make anything out. He resumed jogging
along the path just as two gunshots rang out. He made an acrobatic role along the
granite path in order to disorient the shooter's aim, leaping up and hiding behind one
of the statues. He heard Hatcher's cold, hard voice. "Hey, August! I see you haven't
lost your combat sense. You're not as good as I am, but I sure am impressed!"
"Don't bust your arm patting yourself on the back, Bob!"
"Must we go with the insults, partner?" With that, Hatcher ran from behind a line
of trees and began firing the Delta Elite at August, but cement statue protected him.
August stretched out his left hand and fired his Taurus in the Falcon's direction.
He missed. Hatcher ran down another hill and disappeared into the darkness.
"Hatcher!" August yelled. He ran out from behind the statue and headed to where
the Falcon have fled to. He came to another dirt hill, filled with foliage and trees.
Quietly, he walked through the shrubbery, both guns trained in front. He heard a
rustling of leaves above him. He looked up to see a figure of a man dropping down on
him. Hatcher landed feet first on August's face, slamming him to the ground. He felt
the guns fall from his fists.
August was slightly dazed from the double kick he and crawled away. He found one
of the Tauruses lying near a bush, but unexpectedly he felt a hard boot slam into his
ribs, making him topple into his side.
"Time for the main event!" Hatcher said. He delivered another kick to August's
side, causing him to roll over again. The Falcon outstretched his right foot and said,
"I'm gonna enjoy this, August."
Then, August grabbed Hatcher's boot and held it. He struggled to loosen August's
hard grip and nearly lost balance. August pushed his foot away roughly, causing Hatcher
to stumble backwards. The back of his head slammed hard against a tree trunk. August
got to his feet and charged. He threw a hard right into Hatcher's nose, delivered a
left jab to his midsection, and gave a full-contact uppercut to his jaw. As Hatcher
stumbled, August grabbed him by the shirt and gave the fugitive a solid headbutt to the
face. Hatcher was thrown backwards to the ground.
August came forward, reading for another attack, when Hatcher sudden jumped up,
swinging a modest-sized tree branch. August felt it his face, felt the white-hot
searing pain it sent through him. He spun from the impact and fell to the ground,
landing near the edge of a cliff. In a haze, he pulled himself forward and looked: it
was more than twenty foot drop. He rolled onto his back and saw Hatcher standing over
him, bleeding from his nose and sporting a cruel-looking smile. He clutched the tree
branch in both hands.
"It's been fun, partner. But now, we have to pull down the curtain." Hatcher
pulled the branch back past his head, but before he could swing it, August kicked his
feet into Hatcher's stomach. The Falcon dropped the branch and doubled-over, and
August grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled, throwing Hatcher over him backwards,
judo-style. Hatcher screamed as he toppled over the cliff. August turned and pulled
himself to the edge, looking over. Hatcher was hanging on to a rock that protruded out
from the cliff, not far from the edge. August reached down with his arm.
"Bob," August said, quietly. "Give me your hand. If you don't, you'll die."
Hatcher laughed raspily. "Surprised to see you still care."
"I don't. I'd rather see you in jail than be put in a box."
Hanging on to the rock with his left hand, Hatcher outstretched his arm. Just
inches away from reaching August's hand, Hatcher pulled back.
"No," Hatcher said. "It's time for the Falcon to take his final flight." Then,
he let go of the rock and fell, without so much of a scream. He even had a slight
smile on his face as he dropped down into the darkness below.
August looked away. When he turned his head back, he saw Hatcher's body lying
among some rock formations. The moonlight shone down on his body. Closing his eyes,
August let out a signed and said quietly, "It's finally over."
| INDEX |
