A/N - I will endeavour to update a bit quicker next time, apologies!
Chapter Seven
"Hurry up!" hissed Flack as he turned back to look at Messer who was having a little more difficulty getting over the wall due to his shorter height.
"I'm hurrying just as fast as I can," Danny hissed back in a particularly grumpy tone. He was still a little anxious and annoyed that they'd had to drive an hour north of the city to the institution just on one of Flack's whims.
"Well hurry faster. We'll get caught if you start dawdling about!" Flack hissed as a thud echoed from where Danny fell to the ground.
"If you say one more thing to me, I'm leaving and I'm taking your silly ass with me!" grumbled Danny threateningly before turning to stare at the building in front of them.
The institution loomed threateningly before them and both men shivered slightly in its presence. The dark windows glowering down at them like huge black eyes following them.
"Come on, we gotta find Mac," Flack stated and started trudging towards it, keeping to the shadows.
"This is such a bad idea," grouched Danny as he reluctantly followed Flack over towards the large edifice.
It was clearly a very old structure, most likely built during the 1930s and according to records had always been used as an institution for the insane. As they circled around, looking for entry it became clear that a lot of it had been modernised and that it was pretty much impenetrable from all sides.
"Flack, it's no use. There's no way in hell we're going to get in there," Danny muttered exasperatedly.
Flack growled realising that Danny was right and turned back towards him.
"Then let's try the other building," he said, pointing to the smaller structure further behind the institution.
"What is that?" Danny asked, eyes surveying over the slightly rundown structure.
"That's the original asylum from the turn of the last century," Flack stated as he strode towards it, making Danny jog to keep up.
"I really think we should maybe turn back," Danny stated, feeling almost like he was becoming a voice of reason, a role he felt very uncomfortable playing. Normally Flack was assigned that role and now everything was backwards.
"I am not leaving without Mac," Flack hissed angrily as they reached the crumbling building and immediately found it was much easier to access than the current institution.
Danny sighed irritably as he watched Flack disappear through a gap in a boarded up window and then grouching to himself, reluctantly followed.
"I bet this whole place is rotten and dangerous," he grumbled as he climbed through.
"Will you stop moaning for just one minute," Flack growled as he flicked on his torch and shone it around.
"Only if you stop gallivanting off by yourself trying to play hero," Danny retorted as he turned his own torch on.
"I ain't by myself, Messer, unless you don't exist. And I hardly wanna be a hero. Just doing my job here," Flack stated.
"It's not your job to break into places, that's the opposite," Danny snapped back.
Flack growled and then turned and exited the room, prowling down the corridor outside and keeping an eye out for anything of interest. Danny followed and felt a shiver run down his spine as he exited the room into the corridor. Nothing had changed. The interior looked as if he'd stepped right into a lunatic asylum from the early 1900s. Tiny rooms were off to the sides with rusted metal beds. Strange medical instruments lay about on the floor and surfaces that made him feel rather sick just from looking at them. Old metal wheelchairs were left carelessly about the corridors, some upright and some fallen on their sides. The place was sad, depressing, it was ghostly. Danny felt he could almost see the spirits of the institutionalised walking the hallways. The two detectives perused through a few medical rooms, metal tables in the middle of them to strap the patients down. More nasty looking instruments and machines surrounding them. Flack searched like a madman, nothing seemed to affect him. Danny shivered again and felt the loneliness of the place seep into him. There was something wrong here. Something really wrong. The place was deserted. No-one living had walked these halls in decades. Dust was undisturbed in every place. The only thing left here were memories, memories and ghosts.
"Flack!" Danny hissed as they paused on the third floor in an office.
"What?" Flack grunted as he searched through the desk draws.
"This is hopeless; no-one's been here for years. Surely you can tell that?"
"I'm not giving up!" Flack growled as he went to a filing cabinet and flung the draws open.
"Come on, buddy, he's not here," Danny murmured as he came up behind Flack and gently put a hand on his back.
"I said I'm not leaving!" Flack said forcefully, turning and pulling Danny's hand from him.
"Look, you need to calm down, Flack," Danny said in a raised tone as he came right up to the tall detective.
"Get out of my face," Flack said angrily, pushing Danny aside to get past.
"No you don't!" Danny shouted as he grabbed Flack's arm and swung him around. "We need to leave now!"
"I'm not going until I find Mac!" Flack yelled and yanked his arm out of Danny's grasp.
"You silly shit!" Danny shouted as he pushed Flack back into the wall behind him. "He's not here! No-one is!"
"Don't fucking push me!" Flack growled and pushed Danny who fell back, almost tripping but catching himself just in time and then stalking back over to Flack.
"Then fucking use your head you stupid fuck!" Danny yelled as he grabbed hold of Flack and shook him.
Flack grabbed hold of Danny and tired to pull the smaller man off him but Danny clung on like a leech. The two men started growling, each seething in rage and the scuffle started becoming something more violent. Flack shoved a fist into Danny's chest to try and get him off and Danny returned fire by punching a fist up into Flack's chin to get him to see sense. Flack's lip split open and blood trickled down his chin. Then the gloves were off and both men were fighting, pouring their anger and rage into their own best friend. Flack swung out but Danny dodged the punch and got another shot into Flack's cheek. Flack staggered back and then swung hard at Danny's nose landing the punch dead on. Danny's head swung back and then he straightened and ran full pelt into Flack, pushing him over the desk and both men crashed hard to the floor which creaked ominously.
"Urgh..." Danny groaned, blinking his eyes and putting a hand to his head. His nose was bleeding badly from Flack's punch and would be swollen as hell in a few hours. Other than that he seemed fine though.
"Flack?" Danny choked. The amount of dust that had risen into the air from their fight was revolting.
"Hmmm..." Flack murmured as he moved his hands slowly to his face.
Danny suddenly realised he was half on top of the detective, having landed on him when they had fallen and hurriedly moved off him. He could see Flack had blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth and a black eye.
"You look like shit," Danny muttered as he found his torch and shone it at Flack.
"Thanks," Flack grouched as he pushed himself up.
"You okay?" Danny asked as he stood and then held a hand out for Flack.
Flack glanced at it warily and then took it, letting the CSI pull him up.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Flack muttered, dusting himself off and spitting blood to the floor.
"You sure?" Danny asked worriedly looking about and realising Flack had landed straight on his back on the hard wooden floor.
"Fine. Let's go," Flack said sharply and then disappeared from the room. He was limping slightly.
"Shit," Danny cursed as he followed quickly behind, wondering if he'd just made things a whole lot worse.
Mac had patiently waited for three long hours, the tiny item clutched tightly in his hand, ready to pounce. He knew he would only have mere seconds for his plan to work. His body wasn't aching quite so much anymore and he knew he'd be physically able to carry out what he hoped would be his route out of this place, wherever that might be. Suddenly the light came on almost blinding him and he quickly jumped and stood by the door, trying to adjust to the brightness as fast as possible. He heard the door open and then lunged the point of the plastic cup he'd ripped apart plunging it straight into the neck of whoever was entering the room. Mac heard a strangled cry and then Emerson stubbled back, clutching a hand to his bloodied neck. Mac struck again, swiping the plastic shard across the face of the man known as Thomas. He cried out as Mac struck one of his eyes and then Mac was running.
He sprinted away down the corridor, noting the many doors that lined it so similar to his own. He stumbled out into a larger room. It looked like some type of common room with couches and chairs, a small TV, board games and other items for inmates to use. Mac didn't have time to process it. He ran through the next door, praying it wasn't locked. Emerson was so consumed with hubris and his own omnipotence that he might have overlooked these smaller things. Mac grinned as the door opened, the doctor's own arrogance becoming his downfall. Mac wrenched open another door and ran down the corridor. The place was clinical and old. Very old, but clean. Mac found the stairs through the next door and was starting to descend them when a loud, screeching alarm sounded through the building. It pierced through his ears and he had to cover them with his hands. He flew down the stairs as best he could, his body protesting and trying to shut down. Mac pressed on until he reached the bottom and ran through the corridor and out of a side door. He paused, gasping for breath and then sprinted down the grand entrance hall he was now in to the front doors and pulled them open. It was dark outside but Mac didn't care. He stumbled down the steps and pelted out across the grass. It was only when he reached the trees did he turn and stare back at the building. It was massive and very grand. Every window was barred and lights were flickering on as he stared. He could hear the alarm from outside and wondered if any people nearby might hear it.
Mac turned as he saw the door open and men with dogs appear and then he ran into the trees. He ran as fast as he could over the rocky ground, avoiding the trees and branches that hampered his plight. The dark of the night made it near impossible to see, the cloud low in the sky and the thick trees above him blocking any light that should shine down from the moon. He heard the rustling of the nighttime creatures all around him but wasn't deterred. Twigs and sharp rocks on the ground sliced into his bare feet, his shirt ripped as he passed too close to a bush but still he pressed on. His breath came in short, sharp gasps and he felt pain jolt up the side of his body. His chest heaved and lungs ached, cold air pumping through them as he ran. He risked a look behind into the blackness. There was nothing, he couldn't see anything but he knew they were there.
He ran onwards, ran deeper into the unknown, heart racing, beats thumping loudly in his chest. He came to a stream and followed it down to the left. His muscles still protesting, lungs still aching, heart still pounding. He stumbled over the wet rocks down towards the light in the distance. He skidded to a halt as the ground abruptly fell away from right before his feet and he looked out into the night sky and gasped. The stream disappeared down the side of the sheer cliff face and the moon's light shone brightly out over the ground below. It was forest. As far as the eye could see. Not a house, a building in sight. Just forest. A sea of trees that surrounded this place and Mac knew then there was no hope. He turned as a noise behind him sounded close and looked up in time to see Thomas standing over him, a needle in his hand. But wait, it wasn't Thomas. He had no scratches on his face. But he was identical. That was Mac's last thought as he tried to struggle but was no match for the huge man and the needle went easily into his neck.
Doctor Hartmann glared in pure rage at the monitor in his office and then violently wrenched the phone off his desk and called the oh-so familiar number. It rang a few times before it was answered. The recipient did not sound pleased.
"The cops have been here again...two of them, Don Flack and another...Shorter, spiky hair...Yes this is starting to become irritating...Oh I see, he did now? ...Oh good, well that's something...fine, Kyle will take care of it...Excellent...in that case, I may just have to come down there myself."
Hartmann put the receiver back down in a much calmer manner than he'd picked it up. The boss always had a plan and this one sounded good. For once he might even join in himself. Hartmann grinned as he watched the two detectives clamber over the wall. Oh this would be good.
Jo walked into the breakroom to see Lindsay, Hawkes and Adam all chatting around a table and drinking cups of coffee. Adam laughed loudly at something Lindsay said and then looked up, his face immediately dropping as he saw Jo standing there.
"Oh God," he squeaked.
Lindsay and Hawkes turned and on seeing Jo they stood and started to make their way back to the labs.
"Sorry, Jo. We just needed some coffee," Lindsay muttered in an apology.
"Guys, it's fine. No need to leave on my account," Jo sighed feeling guilty.
"I thought Sid had sent you home for a rest?" Hawkes asked in concern.
"I had three hours," Jo nodded. "That was enough. I need to be here and help you guys."
"Well, there isn't much to be done right now," Lindsay explained.
"What do you mean?" Jo asked, frowning.
"Well the dart is a complete dead end. As is the cigarette, they're simply both too common," Lindsay explained.
"What about the tranquiliser?" Jo asked in concern.
"Sid is looking into that as we speak," Hawkes nodded. "I've been working on the plant trace but honestly the sample is so small it could be weeks before I can deduce its precise species."
"And Kyle Black?" Jo said.
"His body was cremated so there's no way we can prove he was dead or alive," Adam spoke up. "He has no family and all records, credit cards, bank accounts, work address, home address, telephone were all closed upon the date of his death."
"So are we saying this guy could actually be alive?" Jo asked worriedly.
"At the moment, we can't prove it either way," Adam muttered. "But his DNA turning up on a cigarette is mightily queer."
"Who confirmed his ID at the time of his death?" Jo asked.
"He had his ID on him when he died of a heart attack. He was found in his own apartment too," Adam replied.
"Dear Lord, this is hopeless!" Jo cried angrily. She noticed how the other three all swapped grim looks. "Look," she sighed. "I know I've been a bit...well, tetchy but I promise that will stop."
"It's okay Jo," Lindsay smiled. "We're all worried."
"Yeah, it's forgotten," Hawkes added as all three of them left the room.
"Adam?" Jo called.
The timid lab tech turned and stared at her anxiously.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you earlier. You're doing a great job, keep it up," Jo smiled apologetically.
"Oh..um...thanks, Jo," Adam mumbled, going bright red and then hurriedly leaving the room.
Flack sat staring out of the window, arms folded across himself as Danny drove them back to the city. They'd been a huge argument between them about who got to drive. Flack had naturally decided it should be him as he always drove and it was his car. Danny had disagreed as he could see that Flack was in pain and the detective had only agreed when he'd tried to get into the car and let out a quiet yelp.
"Are you gonna talk to me?" Danny asked as they approached the lights of the city.
Flack grunted but didn't say anything.
"You can be so childish sometimes, Flack," Danny muttered, shaking his head.
"Me?" Flack rounded on Danny. "That's rich coming from you."
"Yes you!" Danny retorted, ignoring the jibe. "You made us go all the way up to that stupid institution and Mac wasn't even there. That was three hours we could have spent actually doing proper investigating into where he could be."
Flack opened his mouth to retort and then closed it again, realising Danny was right.
"I just thought so bad he'd be there," Flack sighed.
"I know you did, buddy," Danny replied, taking a glance at Flack. "But you can't keep going off on these wild whims of yours. We need you to keep a straight head here, Flack. Mac needs you to."
"God, Mac..." Flack muttered under his breath. "Where is he?"
"It's not your fault, Flack," Danny said softly.
"Doesn't feel very much like that," Flack snorted.
"You need to take your head out of your own ass and realise there are other people hurting here, Flack. We all want Mac back. We all want to find him and we all blame ourselves. Why do you think Jo is being so unlike herself?"
"God knows," Flack muttered.
"Promise me you'll just take a few hours sleep when we get back. I need you with me, Flack?" Danny said softly, glancing again at Flack.
"Fine," Flack sighed reluctantly.
"And I'm taking you to the lab to get Hawkes to check you over," Danny stated.
"What?" Flack moaned. "Since when did you become so bossy and sensible?"
"Since I became a dad," Danny stated.
Flack grimaced but didn't moan again and the two drove on in silence.
"Hey, Mess?" Flack murmured.
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry I hit you," Flack muttered, not looking at the CSI.
"I'm sorry I hit you too," Danny smiled. "And threw you over a desk."
"S'okay. I deserved it," Flack nodded. "I was kinda being pig headed."
"You were. But that's okay," Danny replied.
The two men smiled to themselves as they approached the lab.
Doctor Emerson sat in his office, grimacing as Doctor Fremont wrapped a bandage around his neck.
"How is Thomas?" he rasped.
"He'll be fine. He needs a bandage over his left eye for a week to protect it from light," Fremont replied.
Fremont was a middle aged, slightly fat man with deep brown eyes and thinning brown hair.
"I've a mind to get rid of 567 immediately. He's proving to be more trouble than he's worth," Emerson stated angrily.
"That would indeed be a shame," Fremont mused as he finished up with the bandage. "You just need to find a way to control him."
Emerson was about to rely when his phone rang. He stared at it angrily for a while, annoyed it had interrupted his talk and then snatched it up.
"Yes?" he rasped into it. "What? Who?...Another?...This will have to be dealt with...567 also attempted an escape tonight...Logan caught him of course, there's no escape here...I will get Kyle to deal with this mess...I have an idea, I'll send Logan to help him...I think we may have some fun here...Excellent."
Emerson hung up the phone and grinned maniacally to himself.
"What is it?" Fremont asked.
"Two cops were poking around Thorn Everidge tonight," Emerson replied.
"And that makes you happy because?" Fremont frowned.
"Because it has just given me an idea. I will get my way Fremont. I always do," Emerson laughed. "And nothing will stop me."
