Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Well, here we are with another overdue post. So sorry! I had a really bad week and just couldn't get into the writing mode. But, I forced myself to do it so I could get this out. Just hope it works as well as it seems to. Thanks for everyone on the last chapter! Means a lot. I actually went back and reread a bunch to remind myself that people are waiting on this and I should get into gear. So, thank you. Give yourselves a pat on the back since you helped get this one out. Though…well…oh hell, just go read it! See ya all hopefully sooner next time! Bye!
#11: She reaches for the pistol…
The town was in complete shambles. Catherine sat completely still in the passenger seat, starring out the window trying to take in everything. The destruction was nothing like she was expecting. She had seen several trees missing several limbs to being completely uprooted. Cars were dented, windshields shattered, and large paint scratches.
Houses were in different stages of tragedy. There was one that looked like someone took a shovel right through the center of it. Catherine was sure she had seen the toilet as they drove past, but was too shocked to ask Grissom to slow down or even stop. They had already lost enough time having to reroute so they would be able to get to the police station.
And her company for this little journey was completely silent. The supervising CSI hadn't said anything since they walked out the lab doors. Catherine didn't even think she had even heard him breathe heavier than normal. Her breathing had been loud enough for the both of them.
From what she knew of this city, they were close. They should arrive in less than five minutes if they didn't have to make anymore detours. She wanted nothing more than to get out of that damn SUV so she could get the answers to all the questions that were swimming through her brain. Nothing was going to stop her from getting them.
The station was soon in her sights. Her back straightened up more, her fingers started drumming on her pant leg. Now she heard the slight sigh from the man sitting next to her. Catherine swiveled her eyes over to see if she could figure out what emotion she had missed from that noise. Grissom was giving her nothing. It was typical. Her knee started bouncing.
"What're you thinking?"
It caught Grissom off guard, though all he showed for it was a quick raise of his eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on," her breath escaped in a rush of words, "We're about to find out about the guys. You have to be thinking something."
Grissom starred straight forward, not making any more to glance at the blonde woman sitting next to him. He had been thinking during the entire drive. There hadn't been one moment where his mind wasn't pulled from the focus of driving. But he had no skills in getting those thoughts into words. They were never supposed to leave the safety of his mind.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" The disgust and sarcasm was ripe in her voice. There were too many times that Catherine wanted nothing more than to slap Grissom across the back of the head. Her friend really knew how to wear on her nerves like no one else.
The SUV pulled smoothly into the parking spot. Grissom opened his door and stepped out without offering a single word back to Catherine. He could hear her mumbling in frustration and the truck shook behind him with the power she used to close the door. Shaking his head, he walked after the blonde hurricane.
Catherine didn't bother to keep quiet as she entered the station. She looked quickly around the room, by passing the front desk girl with ease. A uniform and a frown directed her attention. Her feet carried her forward without any thought.
A small, feminine voice tried to break her gait, stop her in her tracks, "Excuse me? You can't go back there without clearance. Excuse me!"
But the CSI ignored her and walked right over the officer she had sighted in, "Hey. Where's the sheriff?"
Grissom followed behind her with less of a storm, merely glancing at the irate secretary. He looked at the officer that Catherine had cornered, looking very much like a deer in head lights. The man's mouth floundered at first before finding the ability to form any words.
"He's in his office…who are you people?"
Thinking fast, Grissom pulled out his badge and opened it for the other man to look at, "We're with the Vegas Crime Lab. Out guys were helping out on that case at the school."
As soon as the cop heard those words, his face lost all color. He didn't say another word, just jerked his head to say he wanted them to follow him. Catherine bolted and almost walked on the heels of his shoes in her hurry. The lack of words from the man had he concern bumping up a few notches.
They weaved through numerous officers, some laughing and joking with each other as if the world outside the walls wasn't in chaos. Grissom had always wondering how people would act upon the end of the world. If this little scenario had any merit at all, he would have to say with a smile and a laugh. He shook his head and swallowed back the response he knew he would have.
The door to the office was closed. Without even knocking, the officer opened the door and walked off before anything could be asked of him. His gait was quick, his steps loud enough to echo through the hall.
"Who is it?" The voice was gruff and impatient. It was clear the sheriff had no desire to speak with anyone at this moment. Grissom entered the room first.
"Sheriff, I'm Gil Grissom with the crime lab. This is Catherine Willows, my associate. We're looking for Detective Jim Brass and our CSI's."
The broad, tall man rubbed at his stubble covering his chin as he looked at the two people standing in front of his desk, "Call me Steve. I was on sight with your detective for a little while. Left to get back here and prepared once the weather started going to hell. Haven't seen him since."
"So, they're not here?" Catherine's voice went up an octave by the end of the short sentence.
"No. My officers arrived back here together. No one was with them. From what I was told, your people were just finishing up and would be leaving soon. No need to worry about them."
Grissom nodded his head slowly as he took everything in, "Who told you this?"
Sheriff Steven Baker looked down at his desk, at the paper he had spread out over it. His right hand reached out and pulled a random sheet out from a yellow folder. There were several different styles of handwriting all over the paper. Catherine couldn't catch a glimpse of it as the man quickly put it away once again.
"Officer Duncan was the reporting officer once they returned to the station," the sheriff got up from his chair and walked around the desk, "If you would follow me."
"He's still here?"
The other man nodded at Catherine's question as he led them out his office and left into the hallway, "I pulled all my officers in when the tornados hit. We're just getting around to cleaning things up. Had to get a hold of the fire department to get things in order. Most of my people are still here."
"The storm has been over for awhile now. Why so long?"
"We're a smaller department than that of Las Vegas, ma'am. Takes more time to get things organized and I'll admit, I don't get along with the fire chief well. Had a few disagreements on how to proceed. But I assure you, we are not letting the people of this city suffer without help. Everyone will do what they can."
The walked to what looked to be a small break room. A short man sat on the couch, head leaned back, eyes closed. His uniform still appeared to be damp. He jumped when he heard people enter and one clear their throat.
"Oh shit, Steve…um, sorry. Just needed to get my thoughts back together first, sir. I'll be on my way now."
Sheriff Baker held up his hands, stopping the officer, "Calm down for a second, Pete. Just have a couple questions for you before you head out. These are more CSI's from Vegas. Wondering where their people are."
The man stood quickly and looked at the two guests standing in the room, "I was the last officer to leave to scene from Boulder. Detective Brass told me they'd finish up soon and head back out. So, I left with the others. Never saw the CSI's though."
"How long before the storm was that?" Grissom asked quietly.
"It was getting pretty bad by the time I even got in my car. The tornados hit almost immediately after I got here. We all took cover and once it was over, I gave my report quickly so I'd be ready to head out with aid."
Catherine pulled in a shaky breath and closed her eyes. They had nothing still. Her boys were still out there somewhere. No one knew where. Acting on a limb, she walked out of the break room and pulled out her cell phone. Her fingers moved quickly over the key pad and she raised it to her ear. It rang a couple of times, enough time for her to feel Grissom move to her side.
A voice picked up on the other end. Catherine quirked up one side of her mouth, "Jacqui, its Catherine. I was calling to see….yeah, have they?…uh huh…thanks. Bye."
She flipped the phone closed and turned to look Grissom in the eyes, "No one's seen them back at the lab. Gil, they're still here somewhere."
"Alright," Grissom turned back towards the sheriff, "We need to get to that school and see if we can figure out what happened. How long?"
"Roads are pretty messed up. Not going to be a quick ride. Might have to detour a great deal. But we'll get there. Pete, go find a couple people and get set up. We have a possible rescue mission at the school."
The two CSI's could hear people moving around them, orders being given. But both were too wrapped up in their own minds. No one knew what had happened to Warrick, Nick, or Greg. Brass and Andrew were still missing as well. Catherine couldn't bear to think of all the possibilities. She wouldn't be able to bear it.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Brass could hear several people gasp, cry out, and shuffle around in the darkness. He reached out in front of his for the wall when a flash of light to his right caught his attention. Andrew was holding up his flashlight, pointing it at Brass' chest.
"You two okay?"
The light bobbed as Andrew nodded his head, "Yeah. We were in the doorway when the lights dropped. Greg's right behind me."
Sure enough, as Andrew took a couple of steps forward, Greg emerged from the room. The young CSI walked with large steps to keep close to the cop and his light. Both men stopped in front of the detective and Andrew pointed the light towards the ceiling, lighting up all their faces.
"I need to find my light. Not on me."
Andrew nodded and slipped past Brass into the room. He swept the room, stopping to rest on two scared teenage boys. A frown twisted up the man's lips as he did some mental math. The beam lit up Nick and Warrick next as he moved in a small circle. Warrick lifted up a hand to block out the light, but Andrew didn't wait for any more movement from the two.
"Hey. We're missing two more kids."
"Oh shit," Brass jumped into the room where he saw his own flashlight. It was on the table with the music director though he didn't remember setting it there. He shook his head and picked it up.
"Sent Natalie and Kevin to the small bathroom. I'll go check."
"Take Greg with you. I'll go check on 'Rick and Nick," Andrew moved away, into the room more, "You two kids don't move."
Derek and Kyle nodded their heads slowly, eyes still owl wide. They did get to their feet and move closer to the cop as he walked over to the CSI's. Andrew noticed they both sat in the chair by the table that their music teacher was still passed out on.
His knee popped slightly as he squatted down in front of the two men still on the floor. Warrick was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness of the small beam of light.
"What happened?" his voice was rough with sleep and confusion.
"No clue, man. Lights just went bust. Oh, and we're missing three kids now. Only have two left."
"What?"
Andrew shrugged at looked at the still sleeping Nick, "You drug him or something?"
"Nah. He's just wiped out. Injured. Not a good combo. I'll get him up."
His long fingers wrapped around Nick's shoulder and Warrick pulled his arm back and forth to attempt to wake the Texan. He was rewarded with a groan and his hand shrugged off. Nick lifted his left hand to rub at the tiredness in his eyes as he slowly opened them. It was bright in one spot, dark everywhere else. He shut his eyes against it.
"Hrrmph…"
Warrick laughed at the response, "Come on, bro. Wake your ass up."
He watched with a grin on his lips as Nick shook his head and worked on pulling his eyelids open. Nick grimaced as his muscles stretched and pulled. What was the worst was that damn cut on his hip. His each ripple of his ads, his hip bones shifted and pulled at his cut. Without even realizing, his hand dropped to cover the area, to protect it.
"What happened?"
"Lights went out. Have to check it out. Brass and Greg left to find the kids?"
Nick's eyes took a look of complete confusion, "Huh? The kids?"
"Yeah, we're missing three of 'em. Sam, Natalie, and Kevin from the looks of it. Andy's gonna check on the director and then we can figure out what to do. But we need ya awake to do this."
"Working on it. Give me a minute."
"How's the wound?"
"Just dandy," Nick grunted as he worked on getting to his feet. His lower back muscles had a spasm, sending weird pains through his legs. Nick never had been one with back issues, so this was all kind of new to him. He put his hands on his hips and looked over at the table and all the people huddled around it. All high spirits were gone from this place.
Warrick got to his feet and moved over to where Andrew was standing. He didn't want to stay and wait around in this room. With a quick glance at Nick to make sure the other man was slightly distracted, he leaned closer to Andrew.
"Hey. I'm gonna go help Brass and Greg. Keep an eye on Nick and don't lose these two."
"Alright, but if he kills me, I'm going to haunt you and your bride, got it!"
"Sure. Feel free, but the bedroom and bathroom will be completely off limits."
Grinning, Warrick walked over to the table where Nick's kit still sat. He pulled it opened and squinted to see inside with the minimal light. Andrew must have seen him because the light suddenly hit him with full force. Inside, he didn't see anything, but a mess. He sighed and shook his head as he stood upright. But Warrick suddenly got an idea.
"Hey, Andy. Shine the light over there," he pointed to the spot where the kids had gotten the first aid kit. Warrick walked over and opened the cabinet again. He smiled at the sight of the three flashlights. Grabbing them all, he stood and walked over to Nick. The Texan took it, not quite sure what he was to do quite yet. Warrick put the other on the table by Andrew.
"See you guys soon," Warrick left quickly before Nick could comment or say anything. His beam was thick and unsure. He sure wished for his normal light. But it was gone, crushed.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Greg walked as close to Brass as he possibly could. It almost seemed easier to hop on the man's back and ask for a piggy back ride. Then all the shuffling and mumbled apologized would seem worthless. He had no idea why he was back on in this mess. With Jim Brass of all people.
The bathroom had been deserted. No one was there. Brass swore he had seen the girl go in, the boy staying outside to lean against the wall. Even with the adrenaline rush from the lights being shut down, he was sure he would have heard the door open and close. And neither of the kids passed them on their way back into the room. They were somewhere. But he was leery to call out to them.
They kept walking. Brass wanted to check to see if the generators were still working or not. Something might have just fired, or a circuit might have blown. He wasn't about to think there was no possibility to get the lights back on. It was just a pain in the ass having Greg right on his back the entire way.
"Sanders, back up. Don't need you to walk all over me," he hissed over his shoulder at the younger man.
The CSI ducked his head down, sheepish smile resting on his lips, "Sorry, just nervous."
"About what? What can possibly go wrong?"
"Not going to answer that," Greg shook his head quickly as they approached the door for the generator.
Brass reached out and opened it. He allowed the beam from his light to fill the room. There was something off, but he couldn't quite put a name to it. Something was familiar yet so unknown. It confused the detective to the point where he was rooted to the spot. Only his hand with the light and his eyes moved. It was then that he caught it.
"What's the hold up?" Greg tried to look over his shoulder into the room. He was the same height as the older man, but looking over that broad shoulder was work. It seemed that the cop was trying to shield him from something. That confused him since he had seen a lot over the past couple of years.
"Just…just stay right here for a minute."
Watching where he placed his feet, Brass slowly walked into the gloom and doom. The beam hit the floor directly in front of him, reflecting back off the tiny specks that were here and there. His right foot had to jump forward at an odd angle, but he kept up his pace.
The generators were silent. It was starting to chill now that the bolts and screws of the machines were no longer in use. He had little hope anything would work any longer. Those holes he just passed were not manufactured for this unit. Someone had gotten sloppy, but he would leave it for now.
Brass was almost to the back of the room when he stopped and turned. He was standing in complete profile to where Greg had stayed. The emotions that spread over the brow of the man were too complicated for Greg to keep up with. But he remained where he was told. Something was up.
"What'd you find?"
"Well, only two kids missing now. Watch your step," Brass swung the light back so Greg could see where to walk so they wouldn't contaminate anything.
Now it was clear to the CSI. The blood trail was sparse and splattered. It fell from a height. Something, someone, had been bleeding, but was able to stay upright. He walked almost the same as Brass had and kept his eyes down to the ground.
"Look left quick. What do you think?"
Greg stopped immediately and swiveled his head. The large machine had three holes in the keypad on its side. They were ragged and uneven. It was the lowest one that looked like it had been made last. They were small and they hadn't heard anything loud. "Knife."
"Thought so. Well, then this won't shock you too much."
The tone in the other man's voice caught Greg off guard and his steps were shakier than he would have like them to be. He was sure he was going to step right in one of the drops and drag it all around with him. Grissom would have his head for getting his kicks in the evidence. Bile rose in his throat a little as he walked to the detective's side.
Sam was positioned on his back, wedged between the two large pieced of the generator. One leg was bent at the knee and hooked around a pipe to keep the boy's body from slipping. Both arms were flung out from the torso. Eyes were wide open and glazed to a dull gray. The slash across his throat was a deep burgundy in the light of the flashlight.
"Who did this?"
It was a dumb question, but Greg couldn't stop his brain from processing it and allowing his mouth to form the words. He hadn't even dreamed that the kid would be a victim. Hell, Andrew had him believing Sam was probably the number one suspect in all this. Now he was dead, blood no longer running though his veins.
"Someone carried him in here. There blood isn't in a dragging motion across the floor," Brass grunted out. He moved the light downward a little as he thought about this. Footsteps behind the men caught them both off guard and Brass automatically reached for his weapon.
Warrick threw his hands up by his face, "Hey, whoa. Just hold it."
"Damn Warrick! Not the time to be sneaking around here. And where the hell did you get that light?"
"Wasn't sneaking. Just coming to help. Got the light from the other room," he took in both men's postures and facial expressions, "What's wrong?"
Brass cleared his throat a little, "Found Sam. Don't walk in here. Evidence."
It was Warrick's turn to take everything in from his spot in the doorway, "I thought everyone was searched by the Boulder cops? How in the hell?"
"Someone was clever. At least they don't have their gun anymore since they stashed it in that bathroom…" Greg trailed off as he looked back down at Sam, "And two that makes three that went there."
"So?"
Greg looked up at the simple question Warrick threw at him. This was not something he could process that quickly. He had been getting good at his job, getting the hand of things, but this was something he had yet to come across. Murder right under all their noses was something new to him. He didn't know what to really say.
"He was carried in here and dropped. This wasn't where was killed," Brass saved the day with his answers.
"Well, Natalie and Kevin are the only two that have been out of that room since Sam was. Possible Kevin did it?"
"Nah, not enough time from the point when I last saw him by the door and the lights went out to when we got here. Would have heard something."
"I dunno, Jim. We were all a little out of it in that blackout. Possible he moved quickly. Hell, Natalie could have helped him."
With a sigh, Brass motioned for Greg to head back out of the room. He was getting kind of edgy standing next to the kid while he was starring at them through cloudy glass. That was not his favorite thing about the dead. Everyone should die with their eyes closed.
Warrick moved aside to let them out, "Now what?"
"Now we look for two more kids. We have to lock the others in that room. No one else is allowed to leave."
"And how do you propose we pull that one off. Nick'll have our heads if we do it. Door's closed anyways from when I left," Warrick motioned to it, "And they have lights now to. Let's just try to find them before they can do anything else. At least they can't get out. Hole's too small for them."
"Alright, but we stick together. They have a knife at least on 'em. Don't want to try anything alone, no hero work."
Both CSI's nodded at the instructions from Brass. They didn't want to go running off on their own anyways. Without even mentioning another word, the three of them headed to the room directly across from them.
Brass took the lead, finally pulling out the piece he wore at his belt at all times. It leads the way into the room, the flashlight tight in the other hand. He swept them quickly around the room, noticing no people in the room. It was empty.
Another light moved past him as Warrick walked into the room. A large splash of blood was on the floor. "Seems we found the main scene. Betting he was killed in here and placed in the other room with the hopes we wouldn't notice."
"Then why wreck the generator?" Greg asked.
Warrick frowned, "You don't think they wanted this do you?"
"Could be trying to pull something. Maybe they think if they pull a stunt like this, then they can bust out of here. Don't know how though." Brass swept the room again. He didn't want to miss anything. Everything was important now.
"This room's clear. Let's check the next. We'll work the rest like this and find those little sons of bitches."
Greg hugged his arms to his chest as he stared at the blood even after the light from the flashlights was moving completely away. Two people had now been killed in these walls. Anything else could happen now. But he tried to think positive. They still had two guns, Brass' and Warrick's. Greg knew they had an edge, right?
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Nick hit the light on the table, but the damn thing still wouldn't work. He wasn't talking to Andrew since he knew the other man was technically on babysitting duty. Being injured, he was officially labeled the invalid and couldn't do anything anymore, but sit there and wait. He hated it.
"Still won't work," Andrew tried again. He shifted in the chair he had dragged over to the table. They were all still huddled around the still form of the music director. The man's skin was blue in the light, cold to the touch even though he was still breathing.
"Oh come on, man. Don't give me that childish crap Nick."
But the Texan still ignored his and started to twist the top off the light to play with the batteries. It was giving him something to do so he didn't snap and start to yell at the cop. Or leave the room and get into more trouble at that.
Andrew's light worked, but the beam was weak. It wouldn't last forever. These were old. There was no telling how long they had been kept in this room without any use. But it was light. It helped call all their nerves a little.
"Quit playing with that thing. Not gonna work."
"I'll do as I damn well please," Nick grumbled under his breath at the other man.
The door opening slowly held off any comment Andrew wished to make to the other man. His back was to the door, the light facing inward. Andrew started to turn around slowly.
Three rapid gunshots sounded through the room. It shook eardrums, rattled teeth. Nick's eyes went wide, facing the door. It happened so quickly. His hands reached down and he felt at his chest. There was no way he was going to trust that he wasn't hit.
But it was Andrew that fell forward. Pain creasing his forehead, filling his eyes. Nick saw the feminine smile as the light from the shots faded from his eyes. No pain, just a chilling cold.
TBC…