Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Okay, totally off topic, but watching idol last night, helped a lot. One of the guy's sang the song I'm using for this and to be honest, that was the first time I've heard the thing in years. I guess he did all right. Not terribly impressed, but what ya gonna do! But back to CSI…we found a way out! YAY! And we still have that dang case. Let's put some more puzzle pieces into place, shall we. As always, thanks for all the reviews and hits on this. Love to hear from everyone as you all know. Keep up the good work! Until next time…oh say…by Monday at the latest. Bye!
#7: Out of control…
Andrew was still pushing at the stones when the three CSI's joined the cops out in the hallway. From what he could make of it, the tornado had ripped through the school, severing it in two. And on the outside of this storm-made wall, was nothing, but a bigger mess. There was no exit here.
He carefully made his way so his feet were once again flat on the floor. With a stretch, he heard the soft popping sound of his vertebra. As bad as he had always heard it was to pop joints, it sure felt good on certain days. Today was definitely one of those days.
"You guys have any luck?"
"Found Nick's bag and a possible way out," Greg jumped forward to be the one to break the good news. It was his turn to make people feel better, even just a little bit. The bag felt heavy in his hand as he hefted it up.
Brass' eyebrow rose, "Really? Where?"
"Back in the band room. There's a small hole in the broken wall," Warrick's deep voice echoed slightly through the hallway, "But none of us are going to be able to get through it. But we were thinking, one of the kids could do it."
The two officers exchanged a look. It was an idea, but none of them had been cleared from the crime. Brass wasn't about to rule any of them out for this, but if one could get out, then maybe there was a chance to save all this and find the girl's killer.
"We could send two of them. That way, in case something is up, one won't be able to do anything without the other," Andrew spoke up as if he had read Brass' mind.
Nick's mind ran quickly over the kids he had been sitting with. Two of the girls were small and would probably work for this. But would they be willing to do it? This was a big undertaking and it might be too much for their already traumatized minds. "Well, if we're going to do this, we should go talk with them I guess. Have to see if we can even get one, let alone two, to do this."
Brass rested his closed fists on his hips and looked at the four younger men standing around him. This should have never happened to them. It was supposed to be a simple job, help out the local law enforcement. Now they were trapped in a school with what seemed like only one way out. This wasn't supposed to happen to these people. They had enough crap through their lives as it was.
"We still have other rooms to look into as well. Nick and Andrew, you two go in and check with the kids. You two," he nodded towards Warrick and Greg, "Come with me and we'll check out these other three doors. We might get lucky."
As positive as he could be in this situation, Greg looked around them at the other doors. Only one was left on the side where there would be any windows. The other two were next to the classroom the kids were staying in. Unless they were ripped open by the tornado, there would be nothing there. But he wasn't about to argue with Brass.
Grabbing Andrew as the two groups began to form, Brass leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Watch Nick. He's bleeding again."
Trying to be as discreet as possible, Andrew looked down towards Nick's waist. The brown, dried up blood was getting a new tint of red with the new bleeding. That cut needed stitches. Too bad he didn't know how to stitch.
Warrick slapped Nick on the shoulder as he moved to stand closer to Brass so they could figure out how to check out these rooms. He took notice of how Andrew moved close to his partner as they walked away to talk with the kids. Something was up that he missed, but the cop noticed. A twinge of guilt ran through his body at that idea. He was supposed to watch over Nick. Seems he might be letting him down again.
"Well, three doors. Three of us. It was be quickest for each of us to take a room," Brass began to bark out his orders, happy to have something he knew how to deal with, "Look over everything. Don't pass over something because you don't think it matters. I'll take the lone door on that side, you two take your pick of the others. Ten minutes, be back in the hall to report."
If either CSI had anything to say, they never were given a chance. Greg watched the detective head off to do his job. He had to smile a little at the attitude that could grab a hold of the older man. Whenever they had a case and Brass was on the scene, Greg would have to say he always felt completely safe that the man would make sure he was kept from harm whenever possible.
With that fleeting thought, Greg turned to face Warrick, "So, how ya want to do this?"
"No coin toss or any of that crap. Just take the one in front of you and I'll take the other one there."
"Okay, see ya in ten."
Greg turned to face the door head on and took a deep breath. For some reason this was scaring the shit out of him. It was just a door. An empty room. 'Well, I hope an empty room.'
The wooden door had a small, thin plague just lower than his visual range. According to that, this room was for authorized personal only. Reaching out for the knob, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Most rooms such as these had to be locked at all times, only certain people were allowed a key. But he wasn't about to ask for any bad luck, so Greg pushed the door inward.
Here was the reason the electricity still worked in this part of the school. Two large generators took up most of the space. There was a thin walkway through the pipes and wires. Greg walked almost on his tip toes around the area. None of the walls seemed to be affected by the storm. And the one of the machines was still humming strongly. It was providing light to the safe rooms it seemed.
Looking towards the cork board on the wall, Greg could see a map of the school and to which rooms each generator was hooked up to. On the other end of the building, there were two more just like these two. It seemed to be a lot of backup power for a not very large school. Greg just shook his head and moved on.
There wasn't anything in this room to hide in or hide something in. He carefully checked in every nuke and cranny that he could reach to look for anything. But with how the room was stationed and if everyone assumed like he had that the door should have been locked, it was a bad place to stash a gun. Greg checked his watch and saw his ten minutes had been eaten up rather quickly.
Deciding to give the room one more look over quick, Greg got as low as he could. Anything could happen now it seemed. He wasn't about to let anything go. Only hope was someone else would have something go good for them.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Brass threw his weight against the door, swearing the entire time. This was getting way too old for him. After one more push, the door gave and the detective almost fell onto the floor. Shuffling his feet quickly, Brass got into the room on his feet. It was completely dark, just like the classroom next door.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
Groping around his belt, he found the small flashlight he kept clipped there. The beam wasn't broad or even that bright, but it was enough to allow him to see where he was putting his feet. This seemed to be the spot when the tornado turned in towards the school. Only half of the room was truly left. He didn't have to walk far.
Sweeping the light back and forth, there was nothing, but brick and stone. Not even a fun extra encased in this. Stepping over a busted desk, Brass walked towards the new corner formed on his left. Placing his left hand on the wet surface, he leaned his weight towards it. There wasn't even a grumble from the stone.
Attempting not to trip, Brass made his way across the entire demolition sight, testing for a weakness. The tornado left nothing here for them to use. There was a dripping noise by his feet, but he wasn't about to crawl on his hands and knees looking for the source of the water. From what his flashlight told him, there was nothing for a human to use.
Brass sighed deeply and turned back to face into the room. Now he was going to look for anything that might have to do with their case. It was possible something could have been stashed in here, though someone should have seen it.
'Just like someone should have seen that girl get shot in the back of the head in the middle of her band room.'
Everything in this smaller space was made to be there. A few chairs, a couple student desks, a table. Nothing that screamed for any attention. Brass let his light linger over the chalk board eraser on the floor, letting it all sink in.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Now that he had the time to look at the door in his way, Warrick could see the small sign in the middle of it. It was split in two, each side of the line had a picture. There was the stick figure of a man, another of a woman in a dress. It was a bathroom.
Warrick frowned at this fact. Usually in schools, as with other larger buildings, there were two bathrooms, one for each gender. But here, right in front of him, was a bathroom with both available. And to high school students at that. Lots of trust for a group of teenagers.
Shaking his head slightly, he opened the bolt with a turn of the elongated handle. The room was dark inside. Reaching in his right hand, Warrick patted the wall looking for a switch. It was maybe three inches from the edge of the door. The room was lit up immediately. It was a small room.
It turned out to be a single bathroom. There was only one toilet, one sink, and one paper towel dispenser. Still seemed odd to have in a high school. Warrick began to wonder if this building was meant to become a school when it was built. It would have been easy enough to add on other rooms to something that was already standing.
But like the room next to this one, it was untouched by the tornado and had no windows. Taking a step in, it looked to be only nine feet by nine. It wasn't a large bathroom. But it was enough to get the job done.
Warrick decided to start from one side by the door and work around to the other. No way was this going to take ten minutes. There was a trash can with a lid, the typical swinging door on the front. Warrick felt around on his person until he came across his spare gloves. There was no way he was going to ruin something new when they had possibly lost everything else.
The latex touched the rubber of the lid and allowed Warrick to lift it from the base. Crumpled up brown paper was the only thing to meet his green eyes. He reached in and shifted it around, feeling for anything hard. Nothing, but paper towel.
"Shit," he breathed into the room as he turned his head to look at the mirror and the sink. There was nothing underneath the porcelain structure, but a steel drain and the curved trap. His hands were itching for his phenophylene. There could be blood evidence there. Warrick made a mental note to come back and check it out if Nick's supplies were still good.
His hand reached up and tugged at the mirror. It was molded into the wall. Feeling around the edges, there were no gaps. Nothing was behind this thing. But right next to it was the towel dispenser. It was white and old fashioned. There was screw on the top, a turning rod on the side, and small teeth on the bottom. Warrick worked at the screw and got the top of the dispenser to fall forward. A half roll of brown towel was left. Otherwise, empty.
That let the toilet. It was shiny, clean. And the seat lid was down. Warrick lifted it slowly, his head tilted downward. Clear water filled the bowl. Squinting his eyes and pressing his lips together, Warrick let the lid clang down as he released it. His hands went straight for the tank lid this time. Porcelain scraped against other porcelain as it was lifted from its groves. The black float rubber, white plastic, and grayish black steel.
The Glock G21 45 ACP was flooded at the bottom of the tank. Warrick closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled a cleansing breath. It was drenched, but it was a gun. They were one step closer. Now, how it got in this toilet tank?
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Andrew walked into the room first, the CSI trailing behind him. Nick's steps were getting slower with each step he took. But there was no way he was going to let that on to anyone else. He would get through this and then ask for help. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
The kit in his hand felt heavy. For a moment, Nick ignored the eyes following his every move. He wanted to check over what was left in his bag. It made weird clanking noises as he settled it down on the wooden surface.
As Greg had said, the jars were broken. Hell, his fingerprint brush was cracked almost completely in half. There was some water that had settled on the bottom. Reaching in carefully, Nick swiped his finger along the inside of the leather. The paste was his fingerprinting powders. There was no way he was going to get paid back for having to replace this mess.
'You're already one your third kit, Nicky-boy. Ecklie will shit a brick with this latest one.'
Figuring the kit was a waste of time, Nick moved away from it. His body screamed at him to stop moving. But it did feel like the bleeding at slowed down or stopped again. Andrew had taken a seat and had his arms crossed over his chest. The two men shared a look, neither wanting to start this conversation with the kids. Nick rolled his eyes as he realized he lost before they had even begun to form a game.
"Okay, I'm just going to put this all out on the table. We found a way out."
Natalie immediately jumped up, the brown haired Jack on her heels, "We need to get out of here! Where is it?"
Nick held his hands out in a calming gesture. He worked hard to keep his face, his eyes calm as he did this. "There's a small hole back in your band room. And I mean small."
"In the band room? We have to go back in there?" Kyle asked while looking at Nick through his eyelashes, blue eyes dark.
"Well, technically," Andrew jumped in to help a little, "Only two of you need to go back in that room. We want to send two of you out for help. The rest will have to stay here."
Just as the cop expected, protests and outcries filled the room. Derek and Kevin were on their feet now as well, arms flapping in the arm. Their voices were down to growls and mumbles as they protested this. It was clear they knew they were too big to fit through. They just didn't want to admit it.
Nick focused his attention on the other two girls, Amber and Susie. Neither had looked up from their shoes. Their hands were wrapped tightly together. These were the two they needed to send out. Only those two could make it through that space.
"It's simple. Two leave through the hole, go to the police station, get help. Then when helps arrives you all can go home. But that means we need to figure this out now. No more arguing or fighting us. We're not here to hurt you guys."
The explanation from Nick calmed Natalie and Kevin down, but Derek was still besides himself, "And who ya guys gonna send? Huh? What if we die in here? Ya want that?"
The boy was shorter than Nick, but he might have been just as broad. Nick could see the muscles tensing under his shirt. He knew the signs for someone getting ready to attach. This kid was wired on something, fear maybe.
"No one's going to die. We just can't get any help in here without sending someone out."
"Oh yeah? I thought cops had radios, cell phones. What 'bout it?"
Nick might as well been punched in his gut. His cell phone. Wrenching his eyes from the fuming teenager, Nick looked down at his body. It had been blocked from his mind the minute that truck felt bumper over bumper at that doorway. He could have hit himself in the head for not even thinking about it. There were no thoughts about how no one else had thought of it either.
"Radio doesn't work, Nick."
The cop's quiet voice cut through his self punishment, "What?"
"I tried it out in the hallway when Brass and I were looking around. There's nothing. And my phone's in my car so no good with that one. But, look at yours."
Nick fumbled with the flap of his pocket to reach for his phone. The small miracle felt solid and heavy in his hand. And it made Nick's face drop the moment he flipped it open. The screen was dark and cracked. He pushed at some buttons, but nothing happened. It was dead.
"Shit. Won't work."
He handed it over when Andrew reached for it. A deep, shaky breath escaped his frame as he turned to face the kids again. Cell phones were banned from most schools. It appeared that this was one of those. None of the kids had one. And a quick look around the room, there wasn't a land phone present either.
"Any phones around this part of the school?"
Sam shook his head as he watched Derek sit back down, "Nah. Closest one is the office. About five doors down."
That was out of the question. As far as Nick knew, that room didn't even exist anymore. He would have to check with Warrick and Greg when they got back to see if their phones still worked. There had to be one out of the five. They weren't that unlucky.
"Okay, the phone idea is on hold. We still need two people to volunteer to go get help. Your music director, and possibly others, are severely wounded and need help. The more time we waste here talking, the more time we take from them."
"Who could fit?" Amber asked shyly. She seemed nervous to speak above a whisper. It was as if she thought something terrible would happen again if she did.
Andrew rubbed a hand through his hair, "It's pretty small. None of the guys will be able to do it. But, two of you girls might be able to get through. We can take the three of you in and see who can get through."
"Why can't all of us go?" Natalie's face was pale and drawn.
"No, only two. But we have to wait until the other three men are done."
The kids shuffled their shoes and returned to their mesh. But Nick knew they couldn't keep leaving them alone for long periods of time. Someone was going to have to stay in this room with the boys as they worked on getting someone out of this building.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Greg walked into the hallway, headed straight to where Brass was already standing. The detective did not look pleased. His room must have been as big of a bust as his had been. Only one way out and none of the adults could use it.
"Find anything Greg?"
"No, it's the generator room. One's still working strong, reason we got lights out here and that side of the hall. But nothing we can use."
"How about this?" Warrick's voice cut in and forced the other two to turn and look at him. Brass actually smiled at the gun Warrick dangled in his gloved hand.
"Murder weapon?"
"Possibly. Found it in the unisex bathroom I checked out. It was sunk in the tank. Have to get it back to Bobby."
Greg starred at the handgun with wide eyes, "How would someone get that in a school?"
"This is a Glock 21. It's popular for self/home defense. Easy to use, easy to conceal. And you can get them reasonably priced on the internet. A kid could easily get one from their parent's bed side table."
"But…" Greg's blood went cold at the idea. Of course he had heard about all the school shootings and school violence around the country, but he had thought the worst of that was over. Now, here, in almost his backyard, was another incident of kids possibly killing other kids at school.
Brass clamped a bear hand on the younger man's arm, "Don't think too much about it. Worry about it more when we get out of here. Then I want to be impressed by your abilities."
The three men started walking together towards the other classroom, the only other room in this mess with other human souls. Nick and Andrew didn't look thrilled, but Warrick could tell they had talked to the kids already. All six feminine eyes watched his progress closely.
"Anyone?"
Nick shrugged, shifted his weight, "We told them we'd take all the girls in there to see which two could do it. But we have to leave someone in here."
"Andrew and Greg can stay," Brass made it simple, "We'll take the girls and return once we get this done. You CSI's make things to complicated sometimes. Think too much."
"Yeah, that would be us nerdy science type guys," Nick grinned slightly.
Warrick walked to the door ignoring his aching muscles, "So then, let's get a move on. Girls, if you would be so kind as to follow."
Soft groans and sniffle emitted into the room as the three girls forced themselves to their feet. Amber's eyes were wet though she tried to hide them from the others. She was sheltered between the other two as the made to exit the room. Nick was right behind them, limp slightly present.
"You two play it safe. And check up on the director," Brass mumbled softly to his two guys.
"I didn't chat with Nick about his wound yet."
The older detective looked at Andrew. It was clear the younger man was upset that he had let that slide. But considering the circumstances, a lecture wasn't needed. Brass would just have to do it himself. And get some help from Warrick. Well, after he checked on that boy as well. These CSI's were going to kill him before this was all said and done.
"Alright. We'll be back as soon as we can. Watch yourselves."
Greg wrapped his arms around his body as he watched Brass leave the room. The reassuring smile Andrew gave him couldn't help rid his frame of the sudden cold that wrapped around him. He had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.
TBC…