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Over the Hills and Far Away	By : OpenPage Category: 1 through F > 21 Jump Street Views: 2103 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own 21JS or the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
- 16
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Driving slowly through the inner city streets, Booker’s eyes desperately scanned the pavements in search of Tom. Since Hanson had stormed from his apartment four months ago, he had spent almost every night searching the streets of Los Angeles for any sign of his friend. His first thought had been that Tom might have returned to the group home. However, after paying Grant Powell a visit, he was disappointed to find that Tom was not there. Powell threatened to call the police if he ever showed up again and Booker had thrown back his head, laughing hysterically as he told the frightened man that he was the police, or at least he had been, once upon a time. He continued his threat by adding that he still had friends in high places and they could make his life a living hell if he dared to abuse any more young men who crossed his threshold.
After the heavy wooden door slammed closed, Booker had walked the streets surrounding the home, clinging to the hope that Tom would stay in familiar surroundings. But his search proved unproductive and he had returned home feeling frustrated and disillusioned. Over the ensuing weeks he had expanded his search, checking various shelters and known hangouts of the homeless. It was a massive task, the city had a population of over three million people and for Booker, it felt as though he was searching for a needle in a haystack. But he doggedly refused to give up hope. Tom had integrated himself into his life and he was unable to let go, no matter what the cost. Every night, as he lay alone in his bed, he thought about what he should have done differently. He knew he had let Tom down and it brought tears to his eyes when he remembered Tom screaming at him, “I needed YOU!” Now he wished that he had taken his time researching facilities before placing Tom in Glenfield. Concerned that he was becoming less able to resist Tom’s sexual advances, he had hurriedly removed the source of his temptation, sending a scared and confused Tom to a hospital for six months without any visitations. He hated himself for not being able to protect Tom after promising him he would never let any more harm come to him. But most of all he hated the men who preyed on people like Tom. It was difficult for him to comprehend how a human being could treat his fellow man with such cruelty. He had witnessed many disturbing scenes during his time as a police officer but he was never able to come to terms with the callousness that occurred within the world.
When a month passed and he had received no word on Tom’s whereabouts he decided to take his search to the next level. He still had many contacts within the LAPD and he started to call in a few favors. He sent Tom’s photograph to several precincts, requesting that the officers carry the photo on the off chance that they might spot Hanson whilst walking the beat. It was a long shot but he knew that if Tom’s photo was constantly on display, it was more likely that an officer would recognize his face.
His second call was not an easy one to make. He thought long and hard about it before eventually picking up the phone and placing a call through to Harry Ioki. Ioki had been a fellow Jump Street officer and friend of Hanson’s who now worked vice. But like Doug Penhall and Judy Hoffs, he had turned his back on Tom when he went missing, even when he knew Dennis had eventually found him. Booker still felt a bitter resentment against the three officers who once upon a time had been so close to Tom. But he made the decision to bury his anger, at least for the interim. He needed to do what was best for Tom and he would not allow his own ego to get in the way of finding his friend.
Harry had been surprised to hear Booker’s voice on the end of the phone and he became increasingly quiet as Dennis explained the situation. After a long moment’s pause, he had promised to search the database to see if there were any drug or prostitution charges in Tom’s name. Dennis secretly hoped that Ioki’s search would not pull up anything of interest. As much as he wanted to find his friend, he did not want to believe that he was now living as a drug-addicted prostitute.
Parking his Cadillac outside an all night diner, Dennis climbed out of the car and entered the near deserted establishment. Ordering a black coffee, he slid into a window booth and stared out into the bright lights of the city. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a battered packet of Marlboros and tapping out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips. Taking his Zippo lighter from his pocket, he flicked it open and placing the flame against the tip of the cigarette, he inhaled deeply. Flipping the lighter closed, he put it back in the pocket of his leather jacket as he sucked in another lungful of smoke. He had started smoking again several weeks after his fight with Tom, having given up nearly three years before. He knew it was a stupid thing to do but he found it soothed his nerves, especially during the tedious hours he slowly patrolled the streets searching for Tom.
Flicking ash from the tip of his smoke, he smiled at the waitress as she placed his coffee on the table. Returning his attention to the streets outside, he took another drag of his cigarette and stared at a group of twenty-somethings walking past. The young men and women were laughing and joking good-naturedly and were obviously having a good time. Dennis’ eyes misted over and he thought how unfair it was that Tom was not living a carefree life. Only a few years ago, Hanson had the world at his feet. He was young, beautiful and working in a job that he loved. He had good friends and a mother who adored him. Then, in a blink of an eye, all that had been taken away from him and he was now alone and tormented by the horrors that had been inflicted upon him. But Dennis had to believe that Tom would find happiness again. He could not accept that maybe Hanson was destined to die a tortured soul, just another statistic of the harsh streets of L.A.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he stubbed out his cigarette. Slowly sipping at his coffee, he realized how tired he was. He spent his days working and his nights driving through the city streets. Catching his reflection in the window, he was shocked by his appearance. Raking a hand through his tousled hair, he sighed deeply. He had been surviving on only a few hours sleep a night and cigarettes and coffee had become his staple diet. Rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin, he recognized that he needed to start taking better care of himself or he would be in no fit state to help Tom when he finally found him. Smiling into his coffee, he chuckled silently. He was an eternal optimist. He had to believe that one day he would receive the call he was waiting for, otherwise the last three years had all been for nothing and Dennis could not come to terms with that.
Leaving a tip on the table for the waitress, he slid out of the booth and walked to his car. Climbing behind the wheel, he drove back to his apartment and fell into bed, not bothering to undress. Within minutes, he had fallen into an exhausted sleep, as images of Tom’s tortured face haunted his dreams.
**
Waking late in the morning, Dennis was in no rush to get to work. He had finished a case the day before and he had nothing pending. He planned to spend the day catching up on paperwork. Since he began searching for Tom, he had not spent much time on the mundane things that needed doing around the office. Now that he had some free time, he felt obligated to spend at least one day filing the mountains of paperwork that littered his office. But he was in no great hurry. Pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, he laced up his sneakers and left the apartment. He ran through the busy streets to a large park that had several jogging trails winding through the greenery. It had been months since he had exercised and as the light breeze blew against his face, he felt his mind clear. Smoking had definitely made a difference to his fitness and an hour later, he puffed his way back to his apartment. Once inside, he kicked off his shoes and walked into the bathroom. Stripping off his sweaty clothes, he tossed them into the hamper and turning on the shower, he stepped under the hot water. Bowing his head, the therapeutic water slowly eased is tense muscles. Lathering up his body, he began to make a mental checklist of the places he would visit after sunset, places that were known hangouts for people living on the streets. He briefly wondered if today would be the day that he finally found Tom but he quickly pushed the thought aside. It was not a good idea to let his emotions cloud his thinking. He needed to keep a level head and continue his methodical check of the city streets.
Stepping out of the shower, he quickly toweled himself dry and dressed in his trademark black t-shirt and jeans. Walking into the kitchen, he poured a cup of strong black coffee and sat down at the table. Picking up the newspaper that he had purchased on the way home from his run, he scanned the front page and an article immediately jumped out at him. Folding the paper in half, he started to read:
HEROIN OVERDOSES RISE BY 25%

The number of heroin overdoses reported throughout the inner

city limits have risen by a massive 25%, according to a source

within the Los Angeles Police Department. It is believed that

a bad batch of heroin is circulating the streets and it is estimated

that as many as fifteen people per day (the majority homeless),

have been taken to various emergency departments around

the city. Mayor Anderson made a statement late last night,

advising that the city would be cracking down on the drug dealers

that littered the street corners throughout the city. The LAPD

has yet to make a formal statement but it is believed…
Booker stopped reading and laid down the paper. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths before continuing with the article. When he had finished, he pushed the paper to one side as his mind turned to Tom. Even though Hanson had started using cocaine just days before their argument, he could not imagine that Tom would ever consider using heroin, no matter how desperate his situation. It was a sad story and he felt for the people involved but he was also relieved that Hanson was not one of the statistics.
Standing up, he drained his coffee and picking up his jacket and car keys, he exited his apartment. He drove the short distance to his office and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Unlocking his office door, he sighed heavily when he took in the piles of paperwork littering the small room. Shrugging out of his leather jacket, he tossed it onto a chair and walked to his desk. Pressing the play button on his answering machine, he set about organizing a pile of papers. The first two messages were telemarketers and he barely registered the communications. When the third message began, he tuned out, thinking it was just another sales pitch. But when he heard Tom’s name he let out a yell and running over to his desk, he slammed his finger on the replay button. A woman’s pleasant voice sounded out through the speakers. “Hi, my name is Nurse Elaine Hart from All Saints Hospital. I am trying to contact a Mr. Dennis Booker concerning a patient who is currently receiving care at our hospital. His name is Thomas Hanson. If you know Tom, could you please call me on 555-8432 as soon as possible. Thanks.”
Dennis choked back a sob as he stared at the answering machine. Today really was the day. After four months of searching, he had finally found Tom.
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- 17
- 18
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Over the Hills and Far Away