Title: And the Thunder Rolls
By: duffshel
Author's Note: Well, it's coming to an end. Almost there. But seems to me that everyone needs a break after what happened last chapter. Too bad I just didn't see to get the message. Always good to throw something new in, right! Well, read on and let me know. So yeah, should be done over the weekend. Just not a whole lot more I can think to do with it. Alright, I'm done. Go on, have fun, and keep your hands and feet inside the cart at all times. Bye!
#14: Deep in her heart…
It had seemed like the world had come to an end. The storm earlier was nothing compared to this. Greg wasn't even sure if he was still alive or not. Somewhere there had to be several bullets embedded in his flesh. Enough had been shot off around him.
There was only one source of light in the room now. It was moving around slowly, a tremble evident. Whatever it was that moved it, Greg wanted it to stop. His head hurt enough as it was. Throwing up a hand, he groaned. The light centered right on his face.
"Greg? That you?"
He knew that voice anywhere. It had been in his life solidly over the past years. Greg had always been a little imitated by Jim Brass, but now, never so fond of that man. Tears welled up in his eyes. As well as a strong desire to rush over and hug the life out of that man.
"You okay, kid?"
But it appeared his voice wouldn't work to form words. Greg was sure his mouth was open, tongue moving, but only unarticulated words were emitted. A few of the tears he had been fighting spilled over to rush over his cheekbones. He planted his hands on the ground and made to move upright. Greg fell back down with a cry. There was something wrong with his leg.
Brass was suddenly closer to him, a sturdy hand on his shoulder, "Hey, just hang in there Greg. Let me take a look."
The flashlight moved down Greg's body. There was a large spot of blood expanding from a hole in Greg's leg. He had been shot in the mess of things. Now that the CSI took the time to assess everything and calm himself a bit, Greg could feel the pain building through his body.
"Hey, don't move too much Greg. Have to take a closer look at that."
"Where's everyone else? Did you see what Andy did?" Greg mumbled as he wiped at his cheeks.
"Yeah, kid. He did good. Saved us by doing that. I'm going to have to write that in his file when we get back to Vegas."
The light lifted from the bloody mess and Brass swung it outward trying to locate another person. He swept over two smaller, younger bodies. Kevin and Derek were down and seemingly out for the count. But Brass wasn't about to make a second mistake, like he had in the band room. He shared a quick look with Greg and made his way slowly over to the two boys.
Kevin was on his back, head twisted back in an odd angle. He took two of the bullets as his own. From what Brass could tell, this probably hadn't been too much of an accident. The bullets were placed in his chest and stomach.
As for Derek, he was laying on his side. His left arm was wrapped up behind his back. There wasn't much of his face left. None of the blood where his nose had been was bubbling up in the light beam. Both were dead.
The detective turned back to where he had left the younger man only to be met with a beam of light of his own. Greg had scrambled around his feet and came up with one of the flashlight lost in the sudden eruption the kids had caused. It made the former lab rat feel safer in his own skin.
"They dead?" He flicked his wrist to throw the beam onto the two teenagers. Brass nodded his head and Greg released part of the breath he had been holding. Now, he swallowed and gained enough courage to turn to find the other people in the room. He didn't have to look far.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Warrick's head hurt. It really hurt. This wasn't one of those headaches that just shows up like an eerie aunt. No, this one had taken up residence inside the bones of his skull. And it was dark.
He slowly lifted his head from where it decided to have a butting contest with the floor. From the wetness running around in the lines of his frown, the floor had taken his number to the bank. There was some movement to his side, but he was too busy trying to keep his stomach from revolting. Of course, throwing up on that floor was sort of like justice.
There were hissing whispers in the room. Sounded like two people. Who those two people would be, he didn't have the slightest idea. His body hurt too much to think about such unimportant matters as to who in their right mind would be whispering right now anyways.
Relenting to losing another battle, Warrick rolled slightly so he was flatter on his back. The tiles were cold and it seeped in through his shirt. Small shivers raked his body as the chill settled in more and more. Pains erupted from different locations of his person. Some were old, from that annoying room across the hall. But there seemed to be two new ones involved now.
Choking back a groan, Warrick cleared his thoughts enough to remember what had happened. The kids had gone berserk when Amber when down because of Andy and it seemed they had a lot of bullets left in those guns. He was sure they shot off most of them in the frenzy. Sure sounded like it. And now, he was sure he wore at least one of those damn things somewhere in his body.
The whispers stopped. Another light source was suddenly in the room, a tad brighter than the other one. Both stopped on him, one lit up around his chin, the other his stomach region. Now he didn't stop the groan from escaping. Two jerking lights danced towards him.
"Warrick? You okay?"
It was Greg. Just like Greg to ask a stupid question. 'Well moron, you are the master. You taught him well. Score on for the grasshopper.'
"Yeah man, just making martinis over here. Nothing big. Using bullets as olives."
Both Greg and Brass moved to his side. Though it was clear Greg wasn't really moving as much as pulling his limp body along the floor. Brass seemed just fine though. That cop could live through anything it appeared.
"You guys?"
Greg waved him off with a flap of his hand, "Never better. Now I can brag about my first gunshot wound, huh?"
Brass shook his head and raised a hand to rub at his forehead. But he didn't think too long on it. Warrick finally brought the question out into the open.
"Nick? Andy? What about them? The damn kids?"
It was enough to get both men to jerk their lights upwards. Brass' fell upon Natalie first. No amount of drama club was going to help her now. Her chest was heaving, but her eyes were pinched closed. Small whimpers rose from her throat, along with a lot of blood. The detective couldn't tell where she had been hit, but she was out for the three.
The other light fell on the mess of bodies on the other side of Warrick, about four feet away from the tall CSI. It was hard to tell who was who from this angle. Andrew and Nick were a mess of limbs. Andrew had been the savior, moving to knock down Amber. But as a result, he had moved his body closer to Nick's.
The small girl was almost on the top of the two of them. Her red hair was splayed across Nick's torso, Andrew's arm. There was no sound or movement from the pile.
A strangled noise erupted from Warrick, pushing the man to ignore his own pains to move over to the group. He sustained a bullet wound to his right shoulder, but it might as well been a simple mosquito bite for all the attention he was paying to it.
But he only made it to about a foot away from the mess. The red head suddenly sat up, twisted smile on her face. It was even more frightening now with the red stains between her teeth. There was blood running out the side of her mouth, arching down her chin.
Every shred of innocence was now gone from her face. The monster she had been hiding in that little girl exterior was now out to play. And it was perched, hunting, over the bodies of two of their friends. Two that still had yet to move or make any noise. Greg's heart thumped harder than he thought ever possible as he watched.
Amber still had a gun in her hand. It hadn't been knocked lose from the kick to her legs. There was no knowing if there were any bullets left in the damn thing, but Warrick wasn't about to tempt fate. He didn't need anymore holes. None of them did. Though he would have no personal issues with putting one in that girl. She was injured somewhere it seemed, but she wasn't about to roll over and play dead.
Her small hand that was free of the gun reached out and she let her fingers brush against Nick's cheek. The Texan's eyes were closed, his lips slack. Warrick's chest froze when he couldn't make any movement of the other man's torso. Nick's pallor was almost translucent. He looked like one of those fish where you can see straight through them, into the veins and internal organs.
"He's dead," her lips formed the words with complete glee. Her eyes shined with a glow normally only seen by young children on Christmas morning. But here it was on a face, smiling in the mist of so much death. "And this one is close."
Greg watched as she shifted and leaned over to Andrew. From his angle he couldn't make out the cop's face, but from the rage on Warrick's face, it wasn't good. He heard Brass growl low in his throat, but didn't dare move his eyes from the scene in front of him. If he did, something even worst might happen.
"Yes, he's close. Brave bastard for pulling that stunt. Didn't think he had it in 'em to move anymore. But he proved me wrong. He is to blame now."
A thin strip of bloody drool ran off her bottom lip as she moved again. It dripped onto Nick's neck. Warrick could watch it slither its way down towards the floor. It didn't move in its journey. There wasn't any movement in that throat to cause any disruption.
Amber lifted her head, her smile even bigger in the yellow light cast upon her. There was more blood on her teeth, but it didn't appear to bother her in the least. In fact, Warrick was sure it was fueling her lust in this situation. She wanted death and now she was in a room that reeked of it.
"But you three are still alive. Not how the game was supposed to go."
"Look Amber. This doesn't need to happen," Brass gathered up his most authorized voice as he spoke to the girl as if she was a skittish cat, "Just put the gun down, put your hands on your head. Nothing more has to happen here. It can all end."
Her head cocked to the right, her brow drawing up. This was not something she could understand. Now that they were in this situation, no one was supposed to leave alive. Kayla had killed them all. This was the dead girl's fault.
"Kayla isn't here. Just put the gun down."
With a look of shock, Amber threw her head upright. She hadn't realized she had spoken her thoughts about that girl out loud. It just pissed her off even more.
"I think not," her hand shook, but she managed to get the gun up and right into the cute man's face. She still hadn't moved, but she wouldn't care about putting another bullet in him. From the blood soaking into her pants, Amber was sure there was a bullet wound along with that cut that killed the man. No dead man should have looks that this one did. Amber wanted to take them away.
"Please, don't do it," Warrick threw away his pride and began pleading with the girl. He might be wrong and Nick could be still alive. But not if this girl shot a bullet into Nick's forehead like she looked to be planning to do.
Amber's eyes suddenly teamed up, shining different in the light, "Too late for pretty words. Never right in times like these for pretty words. Just mess everything up. Always messes everything up."
Her fingers were twitching around on the trigger. Nick held his breath, eyes wide open as he watched the small girl over him. There was little doubt in his mind that she was going to kill him. She had no remorse, no morals to stop her from putting that bullet in his head.
"No time anymore. Nothing anymore," the girl was mumbling to herself now, "Now, say your prayers. Hands held tight. For you're going to lose your head tonight."
Warrick didn't bother to wait any longer. He threw his weight forward, trying to get his arms wrapped around the petite body before the trigger was pulled. Two shots got off before he managed to pull Amber off and away from Nick. She screamed in rage and in pain at his hold.
Now that he had his arms wrapped around her, Warrick could feel the blood from her wounds. From where he was sensing the bullet to be, the girl should have been dead. And with the blood on her teeth, she was breathing it up. Amber was injured, possibly dying. Warrick suddenly could see she was going to take out as many people as possible with her.
A shout sounded behind him. He knew that voice. It was Nick and Warrick felt a little relief to hear the other man up. But as he turned his eyes from the drifting ones of the young girl in his arms, he really wished he hadn't.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
Being unconscious was totally overrated as far as Nick was concerned. In the darkness that his brain put him in, he could see everything and feel everything that had happened to lead him to this point. Andrew had been stupid and risked himself, again. The man came out of no where and took the crazy girl down. Of course, all hell went down. He'd been shot, twice.
There were voices going on around his head, but he was too out of it to figure out who was who. It was too much work at that moment. Nick was quite at peace taking a little break inside his own head. The outside world could wait a moment longer. Not like it was going anywhere anytime soon.
Something was resting on his chest, weighing him down. Panic ripped through his mind for a few seconds. He was immobile, no way to get up if he were to wake. And now waking was all he wanted to do.
His eyes felt like they were glued shut and Nick felt as if he were wasting a year's supply of energy on getting them to even shift under closed eyelids. Some of his fingers moved, but that was all he could give as a sign to the outside world around him. The voices were louder, crazier. Something moved quickly.
Nick pried his eyes open to only see that barrel once again. His stomach churned at the sight, but there was precious little time to process the feeling. Something large and dark slammed into the smaller figure that must have been weighing down his body. The gun jerked and two bullets slammed from the end.
But neither even hit Nick. Close, but not into his flesh.
There was a groan and a slapping of flesh on the tile next to him. Nick ignored his body's protests at any and all movements. He pushed himself upright and looked to where the noise had come from. Andy had taken it again. This time, he lost.
His fingers shook as he reached out to find a pulse, a beat of any kind. Nick let out a shout of despair when he found nothing. Andrew, his friend, the cop, was dead.
It was like a numbing shock. Nick barely registered the other people around him anymore as he took in the scene. His body reminded his brain that he was injured as well and should cease all movement, but his heart ached too much to listen. He could worry about his own pains later when he was sitting in another damn hospital bed.
Right now, he could throw his pain off and be there for a dead man. Tears ran down his cheeks without his permission. Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. There was another sob in the room. But all Nick saw was the bloody man on the floor in front of his hands. And it hurt.
!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()+
The distance from the girl they had found in the street and the school was longer than Catherine had been prepared for. It was a mess in this area. People were rummaging around, looting anything they wished. None looked to be too concerned with any dangers that might arise. This was that moment after a crisis when people forgot to care for others, only themselves.
She and Grissom had to avoid a small scouting party. They ducked behind a half standing home and sloshed around in the mud. Catherine cursed in her head that one of her favorite pairs of work pants were as good as destroyed. And these weren't one of the cheaper pairs.
Grissom darted away from her with a sudden surge of energy. She dug the heels of her boots into the soft ground and tracked after the taller man. There were several more houses to dart around. Grissom changed their direction back to the street when they encountered a labyrinth of fences.
Their shoes hit the pavement in almost the same tempo. It was soothing in a way. Gave the female CSI something new to focus on as they moved forward. Also allowed her to keep up better with the longer strides of her friend.
"I see it." His voice was clear and cut through the night. But Grissom kept it clean as always as he took in the structure that once was a sturdy school. Vehicles were turned around, upside down all around it. He would have laughed at another moment at the sight of the CSI SUV still in its yellow lines. Only thing wrong was the stop sign piercing the back window.
"They never left," Catherine called out as she took in the truck as well, "Where do you think they'd be?"
Slowing down a bit, Grissom scanned what was left of the place. He could make out what once was a front entrance by the cement walkway. There was a large, square room on the side closer to them. That had to be the gym. And there weren't any other large rooms like that on this side.
"Band room's on the other side. Come on."
Catherine shook her head, but kept all comments to herself as she pushed off a little faster. The jumped and weaved around things like on the street, but things were worst here. It looked to be tornado central in this area. She had never seen damage done by a tornado before this close and personal. It amazed her and took all words from her brain. It was scary.
It was a long school and Catherine was breathing heavy by the time they were around to another large room, shaped in a half oval.
"This must be the band room. Always seemed to have some shape like this," Grissom commented as he walked over to where there was a truck tailgate hanging out. He placed a hand on it and pushed as if it were a small toy. It didn't budge of course.
"How do we get in?"
Grissom removed his attention to the truck and took a couple steps back. He scanned the mess of bricks and tried to see anything that would leave them an entrance. So far he was coming up completely short. With a few steps away from Catherine, he moved slowly along the line of wall. There was a hole in the side of it.
"Catherine, found something!"
The relief in that call was enough to bolt Catherine from her spot. Sure enough there was a small hole a few feet above the ground. Catherine had to frown as she looked at it.
"No way in hell we're fitting in there."
"You could. You'd fit."
"Not even going to go there," Catherine's blonde hair whipped as she shook her head, "No way my hips will make it even an inch in. I'm not that tiny."
Grissom frowned and dropped his eyes to his partner's hips without a thought. A cough and raised eyebrow made him remember his manners. His cheeks flushed a little. Grissom was thankful of the darkness that helped to hide that rare physical emotion.
"Well…" he turned on his heels and looked around them. There had to be something he could use to pry it open, make it bigger. Just as he was about to curse, he got an idea. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
"Wha…?"
The man was off before Catherine could even finish her word. She watched him run back in the direction they had just come. Shrugging, she turned back to the wall and moved closer to the hole. Catherine raised her hand and used it to measure the width. Laughing slightly to herself, she pulled her hand down. She would never be able to get her body in that thing.
She tapped her fingers along her pant leg as she waited for what seemed like forever. Finally, Grissom was walking back towards her, stop sign over his shoulder. Catherine's eyebrows rose to her hairline.
"What is that?"
"Stop sign."
"I can see that. Where the hell did you get it?"
"Pulled it out of the truck, back there. Didn't you see if?"
Catherine simply shook her head and stopped that topic of conversation. She wanted to know why he went and got the damn thing. "What you planning on doing with it?"
He walked away from her, not saying a word. Grissom grinned to himself once he knew that Catherine couldn't see his face anymore. There was nothing he liked more than leaving that woman in the dark. She would catch on soon enough.
The bricks underneath the hole seemed unstable. If he pushed the sign in just right, he might be able to dislodge the rest and make it bigger for them to fit through. Walking slowly, looking closely, Grissom found a spot to shove the sign in. He placed his foot on the end and pushed.
"Think its going to work?" Catherine was closer now. She understood what he was trying to do, but didn't see how it would work. Stop signs weren't that sturdy, but bricks were.
"Only one to find out."
He grunted as he fought with it. It creaked and grated against the rock. There was some shifting, some movement. Grissom jumped back just in time as the rest of the wall started to fall. Rocks and bricks fell around his feet. Dust flew up into the air, forcing its way into Grissom's lungs. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to get rid of some of the annoyance.
When everything settled, he stepped back to stand next to Catherine. He smiled now so that Catherine could see it this time. The whole was about four feet long now, two feet wide.
"No problem getting in now."
Catherine gave him a small shove and moved forward. Her small flashlight shined into the room as she moved carefully inward. It was dark. It was quiet. She felt more than heard Grissom follow her into the room. They walked together to where they could make out a door.
Looking around at the damage, Catherine couldn't suppress the shiver that went through her body. Her boys had been in this mess. They had to deal with what happened during that storm. She only hoped she would be able to help them through this and put them back together. Each one would need plenty of help when everything was said and done.
Grissom moved through the doorway, looked into the hallway. He could see where the tornado ripped across, taking the hallway down. It was closed off and he was sure that every other exit was gone. His guys were trapped for far too long.
"Jim? Warrick?"
His voice cut through the darkness, but there was no answer. But there was some sort of sound coming from the doorway he placed his beam of light on. With a quick glance at Catherine, he walked forward. He pushed open the cracked door and took in the sight waiting for him on the floor of the place.
His heart hurt at what he saw.
TBC…