Chapter Seven
It seemed like the majority of the kids at the dance still had no idea what was going on. Most of them were too busy dancing like fools to notice the cops that had come in and out of the room a number of times. But the New Directions never missed them.
Mercedes had gotten held up at the refreshment table because some kid had started arguing with Becky who said she was in charge of the punchbowl while Coach Sylvester was gone.
"What took so long?" Kurt asked her when she returned. And Mercedes thought he looked even more disheveled than she left him. Had she really been gone long enough that she didn't remember how disheveled her friend looked?
"Sorry," she said, deciding to forego the truth. "Long line."
Kurt said nothing as he took the glass of punch she handed to him. It was an easy enough excuse to believe. All these kids were probably thirsty after dancing so much.
The pale boy swirled the punch in his glass and stared at the floor until Mercedes spoke again.
"Hey wait a second," she said and Kurt's head jerked up to look at her. He seemed quite jumpy, but who could blame him. "Am I the only one who noticed Rachel still hasn't come back?"
Kurt nearly choked on his punch and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. No, not Rachel. Why would someone kill Rachel? Okay, he needed to calm down. He was jumping to conclusions. Just because Rachel was missing, didn't mean she was dead.
"Don't worry Mercedes," he said, trying to sound confident but thinking he was likely failing. He was in no mood to be confident about anything right then. "You know Rachel," he went on and tried to laugh, but it came out as more a whimper of fear. "She probably got distracted in her favorite obsession. Herself."
Mercedes looked at the boy. She could tell by his tone that Kurt wasn't convinced himself that he was right. That didn't reassure her.
"You don't believe that," she said, always one to be straight-forward with her friend.
Kurt sighed. "I'm trying not to think the worst," he said, looking down at his punch again.
Before Mercedes could respond, a sudden screeching filled the air and several kids yelped, clamping their hands down over their ears.
Everyone turned to see Mr. Schue with a microphone in his hand.
"Oh sure," Santana muttered. "When he takes over the DJ booth, it's okay."
"Santana, he's a teacher," Quinn said.
The Latina shrugged. "So? Is that supposed to give him more right to interrupt the dance than me?"
No one said anything, mostly because they weren't sure what to say to her. Santana would fight you if you said 'yes' to that question, even though it would have been the truth anyway.
"Hey guys," Mr. Schue said casually. "Sorry to interrupt the dance but I have a couple of announcements to make." He paused for a moment, looking around at the students in the gym. How did he tell them this without anyone panicking? He didn't think he should mention the deaths. "As some of you may have noticed, there are currently cops on the school grounds. I don't want anyone to worry. They had a situation nearby and are just here as a precaution."
"Bullshit butt chin," Santana said. The rest of the New Directions looked at her. Kurt was biting his lip, a nervous habit he had long since conquered.
Luckily, she was too far away for Mr. Schue to hear her. "For safety reasons, we're asking everyone to stick together and stay in the gym. If anyone needs to use the restroom, please go in pairs or small groups."
"Why should we?" a rude boy near the DJ booth asked. Quinn and Puck had to grab Santana's arms as she growled and attempted to go after the boy.
Mr. Schue cleared his throat and put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "It's just a precaution. The police are worried someone dangerous might still be in the area and they don't want to put any of you guys at risk. So please, I know some of you might find it childish but if you have to go to the restroom, use the buddy system and go with a friend. Thank you."
The microphone screeched again as Mr. Schue handed it back to the DJ.
"Is he really not going to tell the truth?" Sam asked suddenly. The rest of the group turned to him and Kurt found himself wondering when all the other New Directions had returned to their spot at the side of the dance floor.
"He's got a point," Mercedes pointed out. "We're high school students. I think we're mature enough to know the real reason the police are here."
"We do know the real reason they're here," Quinn stated.
Mercedes shook her head. "We do," she said, gesturing to their group. "But they don't," she added, waving a hand at the rest of the students.
"Forget about all that!" Kurt suddenly cried and everyone turned to look at him. "We've got a bigger problem."
"Like what, dude?" Finn asked, skeptically. He cared a lot about his brother, but since Kurt had been on edge all night, he did worry that he might not have his thoughts straight.
"Like, where the hell is Rachel?" Kurt responded. All the New Directions looked at each other. Currently, the entire glee club was accounted for. But Rachel was still missing. Mercedes had been the first to notice and Kurt had started to become increasingly irritated that no one else had noticed yet.
A glance over at his stepbrother had him glad Finn was currently wearing his helmet. He was sure he wouldn't like the look on the taller boy's face. He could already see Finn's legs shaking just a little bit and that was all Kurt needed to know to realize the other boy was terrified.
"What are we going to do?" Tina asked after several moments of silence.
"Look for Rachel," Finn said immediately.
"We're not supposed to leave the gym," Artie pointed out.
Finn shook his head a little more forcefully than he probably meant to. "We can leave on the buddy system," he reminded him.
"We can go to the restroom on the buddy system," Artie clarified.
Before an argument between the two boys could break out, Brittany suddenly cut in. "Let's play catch a killer!" she cried happily. It effectively shut everyone up as they looked at her. "I can be the alluring sexy blonde girl!" She turned around and wiggled her ass seductively and Santana couldn't take her eyes away from the damn shorts. Why did Brittany have to come dressed as Daisy Duke?
"No one's getting allured by your ass except me," Santana suddenly growled.
The distraction was enough that both Kurt and Finn had started for the door and were nearly there when they were spotted.
"Where are you two going?" Puck called out.
Finn glanced over his shoulder. "To do what Power Rangers do," he said.
"Rescue a fellow Ranger," Kurt added. Because there was always one or a few of them that needed to be rescued in every battle.
Sam, Puck, and Mercedes glanced at each other.
"Wait for us!" Mercedes said and the three of them followed the two boys.
"Are they really going to play Power Rangers right now?" Tina asked in disbelief.
Quinn sighed. "I think Finn and Kurt are too determined to find Rachel to care about the new rules.
"That doesn't explain the other three," Mike said. Quinn shrugged.
"Mercedes is Rachel's other best friend. Puck and Sam kind of just follow Finn's leadership." No one said anything. She was kind of right. And Finn was the leader. Sure Rachel had been elected captain a few years back, but everyone knew in the long run, Finn was always the one true leader of the team.
"I just hope they're safe," Santana said, one of the rare moments she showed how much she truly did care.
…
"What's up McKinley Titans? JBI coming to you live from the McKinley High library. I'm here to report that all hell has broken loose at McKinley. There are cops running around the school and why you ask? No one really knows!"
Jacob Ben Israel, self proclaimed gossip king of McKinley had also ignored the new rules, slipping out of the gym to rush to the library so he could film something juicy. Why should he ever pass up the opportunity to do a live story about the cop infestation?
The boy ran his fingers through the afro on his head and smirked at the camera. Normally, he had someone filming him, but tonight he was on his own. So the library was a good place because he could set the camera up on the table and be able to work it hands free.
"Maybe if we venture out into the hall, we might be able to catch an exclusive interview with one of the cops!" the boy went on. Of course, that meant carrying the camera himself.
Jacob froze suddenly, thinking he might have heard the doors to the library swing open. But it could have been his imagination. After all, this was Halloween and on Halloween, your imagination always ran wild.
"Was that the door?" Jacob said into the camera. "Oooo, maybe I'm about to get a spooky surprise!" He chortled with laughter but it was abruptly cut off when someone else's laughter joined him and Jacob froze again. "Who's there?" he asked, looking around him.
"Do you really think people are entertained by you?" said a voice. Jacob jumped up out of his chair and spun around, but he didn't see anyone.
"Hey man, I have a huge following on my Twitter accounts!"
There was chuckling. "That's funny, seeing as according to some people, you're one of the biggest dweebs in this school."
Jacob could feel a fire in his belly. How dare this person! How dare they! "You can't talk to me like that!"
"Says who?" replied the voice. "Your mommy?"
Jacob could feel his ears burn. He'd forgotten the camera on the table was still running, more concerned with dealing with this invisible idiot. Wait a minute, had he met a ghost?
It was quiet for several moments before Jacob's eyes landed on a figure coming out partway from one of the nearby bookshelves. The lighting in the library was dim because it was after school hours so he hadn't noticed the person hiding in the shadows.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice shaking.
"Are you aware that publicly insulting people hurts their feelings? Or did that afro suck all the brains from your head?"
"You're not very nice!" was Jacob's only comeback.
"Neither are you," the figure said. "And I've decided it's time you learned your lesson."
Jacob swallowed, trying not to show the person he was fearful. "What are you gonna do? Insult me on camera? Hate to break it to you psycho, but people insult me to my face every single day so on camera won't be any different!"
The figure chuckled. "And yet you continue your little gossip vlog. But to answer your question, no. I am not going to insult you on camera. That's so lame."
It took Jacob a moment to realize they had backed up a few steps. He wondered if they were just going to leave without doing anything.
"Teachers are always telling students to read more," the figure said. "I thought I'd be generous and offer you some books."
The next thing Jacob knew, one of the bookcases was falling towards him. He turned to run, but wasn't fast enough. The bookcase knocked him down and one of the shelves pinned his legs to the floor as the books rained down on him.
Jacob let out a howl of pain. The weight of the shelves felt like it was crushing his legs. He pawed helplessly at the floor, refusing to realize he wasn't going to be able to pull himself out from under it.
There was a hiss. Clearly, the attacker hadn't planned for Jacob to get somewhat out of the way. With Jacob distracted by the pain, and trying unsuccessfully to pull himself free from the shelf, the figure grabbed the largest, heaviest book he could find.
They approached the struggling teenager who looked up at them with wide eyes.
"Clearly, you need a little more knowledge," the figure said. And then they brought the heavy book down on Jacob's head as hard as they could, turning it so that the corners of the book were the first to make contact. Jacob fell forward, the book now lodged in his head. He jerked a couple of times on the ground and then went still. "That's enough," the figure said and turned to walk out of the library.
What the attacker hadn't been aware of, was the camera that was still filming on the table. And though the blow to Jacob's head was hard enough to splatter it with backlash, it had also caught a gloved hand and just enough of the arm to expose the fabric of their sleeve.
…
Blaine was smirking to himself. The look on Carmichael's face when he proved he hadn't been lying. As soon as he'd found the blood back at the classroom, further investigation had revealed a horrendous scene. He found Karofsky's body on the floor. He had been mutilated below the waist and his head was missing. He'd immediately radioed Carmichael to tell him he'd discovered the neanderthal dead and the asshole had called him out, saying he was lying to have an excuse to investigate more deaths instead. So Blaine had flat out told him to come see for himself. They were still looking for the boy's missing head.
The young detective was currently speaking on his phone to a colleague back in Westerville. The case was becoming larger than the Lima department could handle alone so he was calling in reinforcements.
He paused mid-sentence however when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.
"Officer Milltower, I'll call you back. Something just came up," he said. After a few more words exchanged, Blaine hung up his phone and turned to face what had caught his attention.
As fate would have it, it was a locker. It looked no different from any other locker in the school, or in any school for that matter. Blaine would have never given it a second glance. But there was a slight difference to this particular locker.
It was ajar.
The opening was slight enough that any untrained eye would have missed it. But Blaine was trained to catch even the smallest of clues. He made his way over to the locker, wondering why it had been left open.
The young detective hesitated as he reached a hand out to pull the locker the rest of the way open. He didn't have a right to search it. No warrant or any other official right. If he opened it now, that would be an invasion of the student's privacy. But there had to be a reason it had been left open.
Swallowing his own protests, Blaine slowly pulled the locker open. The first thing he noticed were the pictures on the inside of the door, and he had to smile. But his attention to the locker door decor didn't last long when he caught a flash of something in the locker and turned his head to look into it properly.
Sitting there on top of a neat stack of books, was a familiar green helmet. It suddenly dawned on Blaine whose locker he was looking at.
Curious as to why the boy would just stash part of his Halloween costume in his locker - because why bring it if you aren't going to wear it - he reached in and pulled the helmet out. That was when something dropped to the floor.
Blaine glanced down. A card was lying at his feet and he set the helmet back on the stack of books to bend down and pick it up. It only took a moment for him to realize it was a driver's license.
"Of course," the young detective said aloud. "He must have stashed it here so he wouldn't lose it at the dance." It was then that he noticed the birth date on the card. "October 31, 1993. That means today is his eighteenth birthday." He frowned. "I wonder why no one is wishing him Happy Birthday."
Deciding he'd been invasive enough for having no official right, Blaine carefully put the card back in the locker and shut the door. Though at the last moment, he left it slightly ajar as it had been when he found it. He had no way of knowing whether the pale boy was aware his locker was open. So it was safer to leave it as he'd found it. He only hoped the boy wasn't one of those people who meticulously memorized exactly how they left everything.