There was no answer at his apartment, so she pulled out her key and went in. She checked the place over, but he wasn't there. Nothing was out of place; everything looked just fine. Wherever he was, there was no indication anything was wrong here. Leaving the apartment, she looked for his car, but it wasn't there. Maybe something happened with his mother...but no, he would have called. Every scenario that popped into her head she was able to shoot down. And she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

Back in the squad room, she sat down at her desk, but she couldn't concentrate on her work. Her eyes kept diverting to the empty desk across from her, and every time she looked, the lump in her gut would get a little heavier.

"Eames!" called a detective from across the room. "Call for Goren on line two!"

She picked up the phone. "Eames."

"Detective Alex! This is Lewis."

She smiled at the eternally cheerful voice of Bobby's oldest and closest friend. "Hello, Lewis."

"Is Bobby around?"

"Not right now. Can I take a message for him?"

"Yeah. Let him know I picked up his car a little while ago and I'll get to it this afternoon. He was right--looks like the alternator crapped out."

"Ok, Lewis. I'll tell him. Um...when did he call you about it?"

"Early this morning. Before seven."

"Ok, thanks."

"Take care, Detective Alex. Maybe you can come with Bobby when he picks it up?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Maybe. Bye, Lewis."

She set the phone in its cradle, not feeling any better. If he left for work before seven, he would have been here long ago. It was time to talk to Deakins.

--------------------------------------

His senses were assaulted by an overwhelming amount of input...the acrid smell of burning electrical circuitry...the sounds of pain-filled moans and terrified crying...the sensation of pain, a lot of pain...

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The emergency lights flickered, penetrating the darkness, but only barely and threatening to go out entirely. He coughed, sending a searing pain shooting through his chest. He rolled onto his side and waited for the pain to diminish, which it did, but it didn't go away. Slowly and carefully, he got to his feet. Staggering, unsteady on his feet, he grabbed the nearest pole for support. Somehow, the subway car had remained upright. When some stability returned, he made his way to the end of the car where he'd been when the accident took place. He looked out toward the next car, but saw only rubble. The tunnel had collapsed.

His eyes scanned the dim interior of the car. People were beginning to stir. Those already awake were sitting about in shock; some were sobbing from pain or fear, or both. The Goth princess he'd noticed earlier was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. He squatted beside her. "Are you badly hurt?"

She shook her head. He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. She had a laceration across her forehead and her face was bloody. "What hurts?"

"Just my h-head."

He rested his hand on her arm and gently squeezed, moving on to the next victim. Eleven people were dead and another half dozen were unresponsive, critically injured. Injuries among the others ranged from head injuries of varying severity to fractured bones, contusions and lacerations; he had no way to gauge internal injuries except to observe for symptoms. He was amazed that there weren't more fatalities. He was still feeling light-headed and his chest and abdomen hurt like hell, but there were others a lot worse off than he was. "I...I'm going outside to look around."

The kid with the beer logo on his shirt said, "Be careful out there, dude. If these lights are still on, that third rail is still carrying a charge."

He nodded. "I know. Thanks."

He knew he'd never be able to muscle open the sliding doors, so he went to the end of the car opposite the collapsed tunnel and opened the door, stepping through between the two cars. The air was heavy and damp. He could still smell burning circuitry, but there was another odor in the air, one that told him what had happened. This had not been an accident. He hesitated. He wanted to look for the emergency lockers he knew were in the tunnel walls every so many yards. There would be first aid supplies, flashlights and maybe a radio. But there were other people who were hurt and might need help. People first, then reconnaissance.

He looked at the adjoining subway car. It had broken off from the car on the other side and lay, tilted, across both tracks. It had hit the far wall with enough force to imbed itself into the concrete. He opened the door and entered the car.

-------------------------------------

Deakins looked up when Eames came to the door. "What's up, Alex?"

She came into the office, closing the door behind her. "Bobby hasn't come in yet, and I'm really worried about him."

"He's not here?" His face creased into a frown. "When did you talk to him last?"

"Last night around midnight. His friend Lewis called and said he talked to him before seven this morning. I went over to his apartment, but everything there is in order."

"That's not like him. You're sure he hasn't been here and stepped out?"

"He didn't get breakfast; he hasn't been here. And he's not answering his phone."

Deakins leaned back in his chair. "Ask around anyway. Check with Rodgers in the morgue and the guys in the lab. Let me know."

She sighed. "Ok. I'll check."

She hated chasing her tail. She knew he hadn't been in and asking around was only delaying things. But it would give Deakins some time to make some calls and maybe do what she had not been able to and find out what had happened to Goren.