Oct 10, 2013 - [9:26 pm]
Blackwell Academy – Pool Building
Arcadia Bay, Oregon
I glance down at my watch. Less than five minutes before that freak goes up on stage to make his big announcement. It makes me sick to my stomach that I'm going to just let him do what he's planning to do, but I keep reminding myself that Ms. Chase is going to be safe. As safe as she can be, at any rate. The police will be there to rescue her. I'll make sure of that.
Leaning against the wall, I consider the one bright side to what's coming; for a few glorious minutes, I'll actually be able to hear myself think.
It's not that it's terrible music. I've definitely heard worse. I grew up during the days of disco, god help me. Granted, I was only about eight years old when disco peaked, but that kind of thing scars a kid. And while whatever this DJ is playing might not be my thing, it beats the hell out of the Bee Gees. I just wish it weren't being played at the same volume as a damned jet engine.
Does thinking that make me old? Probably. I'm alright with that.
Looking around the room, I'm kind of underwhelmed at how generic this whole thing is. Before I took this job, I'd always imagined Vortex Club parties as being more interesting. They'd always seemed that way when I was growing up. I might've been a public-school kid, but even I'd heard of Blackwell's Vortex Club. Of course, back then it was a completely different animal. A bunch of freaks, commies and counter-culture weirdos, all colored hair, pierced ears, and disrespectful attitudes. Chloe would've fit right in. But as much as they annoyed the hell out of me, there was no denying that they were tough as nails. They stood shoulder to shoulder against bullies, protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.
I respected them for that, at least.
The Vortex Club kids today? They'd probably fall to pieces without their mommy and daddy's money. Except for Ms. Chase, I think. That girl's got steel in her spine, just like Chloe. I haven't seen her tonight, but I don't really expect to. I assume she's in the curtained off VIP area, waiting for her win to be announced. Damn shame that her accomplishment has to be tarnished like this.
"Alright, alright. Settle down, everyone." Principal Wells' voice breaks into my thoughts, and I look up to see him on stage, gesturing for the DJ to turn the music down. What the hell is he doing? Isn't it supposed to be Jefferson up there? "It's time for tonight's big announcement, the winner of the Everyday Heroes contest!"
Producing an envelope from his coat pocket with an affected flourish, he opens it and looks out at the crowd. "And the winner is...Victoria Chase!"
The applause is a little subdued, which isn't surprising. Even I know that Ms. Chase isn't especially popular among her fellow students right now. It doesn't last long either. After about ten seconds, it begins to taper off as people start looking around in confusion. Ms. Chase was supposed to have been waiting for the announcement, ready to go up on stage and accept her victory. Instead she's nowhere to be seen.
"Ms. Chase?" Wells asks, peering out over the crowd.
Did she get cold feet? What she'd volunteered for – to be willingly drugged and kidnapped by a whack-job like Jefferson – would take a lot of guts. It'd be a lot to ask of almost anyone, let alone an eighteen-year-old kid. Still, she doesn't strike me as the type to back out.
"Paging Victoria Chase to the main stage!" Another moment passes, and a cold, anxious feeling begins to form in my gut. Eventually Wells just shrugs. "I suppose someone will have to fill her in later. In the meantime, enjoy the rest of your evening!"
The crowd cheers as he leaves the stage, and the DJ fires up the music again. Trying not to look too obvious, I make a beeline for the VIP area. I'm about halfway there when I hear Wells shouting my name over the noise. I want to ignore him, but he moves right in between me and my goal.
"Madsen!" He waves at me, as if I weren't looking directly at him already. There's a slight sway in his step, and I briefly consider shoving him in the pool. It might sober him up a little.
"Sir, now isn-"
"I want everyone out of here by one AM." he tells me, leaning a bit closer than I'd prefer. I manage not to flinch at the stink of rum on his breath. "Is that clear?"
"Got it," I respond, shortly, looking over his shoulder and hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible.
"I'm going home. If you see Jefferson, tell him to be in my office first thing tomorrow morning." He scowls. "He and I need to have a little chat about him ignoring his commitments."
"No prob..." The cold weight in my gut gets a lot heavier. "What?"
"You think I wanted to be up on that stage? He spent all that time pushing for Blackwell to enter a student into that stupid contest, then he skips out on announcing the winner." He snorts. "Of course, it seems the winner skipped out on it, too, so I suppose it all works out."
Shit. Shit. "I have to go."
"Where the hell ar-"
Wells' voice is lost in the noise of the crowd and music as I rush for the VIP area. The girl sitting at the entrance actually moves to get in my way, holding a clipboard in front of her like a shield. I don't know if she's planning to help or if she actually thinks she'll stop me, but I don't have time for either. I push past her before she can say a word, sweeping the curtain aside and scanning the area behind it for Ms. Chase.
She's not here. Of course she's not. Ignoring the startled looks on several students' faces as they try to hide whatever illicit bullshit they're holding; I rush to the nearest door and shove it open. I break into a sprint, heading straight to the faculty parking lot to check for Jefferson's car...and find nothing there but an empty parking space.
Oh no.
Scrambling to pull out my phone, I bring up Glen Casperson's info. It doesn't matter if the plan was for me to make two calls; this is no time to be subtle. Glen should be at the station right now, so he'll be able to go straight to dispatch.
He picks up on the first ring. "Hel-"
"Glen. It's David."
"Oh, hey buddy," he says. "What can I do for you?"
"I've got a problem at the Blackwell party. Someone just told me they saw Mark Jefferson force a student into his car and leave campus, headed south. He's supposed to be here chaperoning the party, but I just checked the faculty parking lot, and his car is gone."
"Did you tell the officers on site?" Glen's a good cop. Makes sense that'd be his first question.
"You mean Seger and Griffin? Seriously?" If there were ever two ABPD cops that Sean Prescott could consider bought and paid for, it's those idiots. Officially, they're here to 'monitor' the party, but those Vortex Club punks could probably start snorting blow off the hood of their cruiser and they wouldn't do a damn thing about it.
"Yeah, fair enough. You said he was headed south?"
"That's right," I pause. "Glen, I have a bad feeling. I think this is related to that project I've been working on."
"...you sure about that?"
"Ninety-five percent. And the only place to the south that'd make sense is the old Prescott barn."
"Alright. Hang on," I hear the sound of papers shuffling. "Bishop and McKay are on patrol near there. I'll get dispatch to send them to the barn and put out an APB on Jefferson's car. Grey Bentley, right?"
"That's right. Pretty sure the plate reads T-P-F-T-H-L-K."
"Got it. I'll let you know if anything comes of it."
"Thanks, Glen." I don't even wait for him to say goodbye before hanging up, quickly navigating through my contacts until I reach Chloe's. Hitting the call button, I anxiously press the phone to my ear. "Come on, come on..."
"It's Chloe. I'm busy. You know what to do."
It didn't even ring before going to voicemail. Her phone must be turned off already. Hanging up, I try calling Max instead.
"Hey, this is Max Caulfield's phone. Max probably left me on silent again, so please leave her a mess-" I hang up before it finishes and try Chloe again.
"It's Chlo-"
"Damn it!" How could I let this happen? How could I be so fucking negligent?! Fucking idiot!
Okay, I need to stop and think. I've still got fifteen minutes before the emergency SMS goes out. That's enough time to check the dorms, at least. It's possible that Ms. Chase was never at the party at all (unlikely, but possible) so I turn away from the parking lot and take off at a run.
Blackwell's campus isn't very large, and it only takes me a couple of minutes to get there, distractedly noting the slightly muddy tire tracks in the walkway between the main building and the dorms as I pass through. Despite my best efforts, students keep on using it as their own personal drivew-
Damnit, this is not the time.
The front door to Principal Wells' adjoined house is ajar, and if it were anyone else that might be cause for concern. As it is, my guards find it like this at least once a week, to say nothing of the times he's been found passed out on his own porch.
Honestly, that man needs help.
Pulling my recently recovered keyring from my belt, I let myself into the building and upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. For the most part, the dorm is silent; not surprising considering almost everyone is at the party. There's light coming from under the door of room 224, a quick glance at the floor map tells me that's Taylor Christensen's room, and I absently recall something about her and a rabbit.
I jog down the hall toward Ms. Chase's room and avoid looking at Ms. Marsh's door altogether. I'm happy I ran into her at the hospital yesterday, but although seeing her up and on her feet was a real weight off my mind, I can't help but feel a stab of guilt over failing to protect her. It's my duty to keep this campus safe. Not only did I fail to do so, but I had that pervert walking around right under my nose the whole time.
"Ms. Chase?" I say, knocking softly on her room's door. There's no answer, and even though I didn't honestly expect one, I'd hoped to be wrong. I try again, knocking more firmly. "Ms. Chase? Are you in there?"
Still nothing. Trying the handle reveals the door to be unlocked and the room to be empty, just like I knew it would be. "Shit."
A glance down at my wristwatch tells me it's already 21:46. Four minutes until the SMS is due to go out; I need to get back to the gym. As I retrace my steps, I take a second to pray to a God I long since stopped believing in that Bishop and McKay made it to the bunker in time.
I glance up at the twin moons as I cross the campus again and feel an uncomfortable lurch in my stomach. It's just like Max had said, and if I'd been harboring any doubts about her story, they're long gone now.
It's almost time. Leaving a voicemail is better than nothing, so I pull out my phone again and open Chloe's contact. My thumb is hovering over the call button again when the device buzzes and an incoming alert fills the screen.
[69310]: ATTENTION! EMERGENCY WEATHER NOTIFICATION! THIS IS NOT A TEST!
[69310]: A EF5 Tornado warning has been issued for central Tillamook County. All residents in the following towns are advised to immediately evacuate inland: Rockaway Beach – Barview – Arcadia Bay – Garibaldi – Bay City – Cape Meares
[69310]: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO SHELTER IN PLACE. TRAVEL NORTH AND HEAD INLAND. REMAIN THERE UNTIL FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS ARE RECEIVED.
I never thought I'd be so happy to see a storm warning. Even if the girls aren't answering their phones, at least I know that they're alright.
Unfortunately, that means that I've only got five minutes until the lights go out. Maybe less. Reluctantly closing Chloe's contact information, I bring up Joyce's. I hate that I'm going to be lying to her, but I'd rather have her safe and angry later than risk the alternative. I'm not surprised when she answers on the first ring; it seems like she hasn't put her phone down in two days.
"David? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Joyce." Of course that'd be the first thing she asks. She's been all tied up in knots since Chloe left. "Are Ryan and Vanessa still there?"
"They're right here. David, we all just got a storm warning message on our phones."
"I got one, too. I think everyone did."
"The girls are still out there."
"I know. I've got the police looking for them. I'm going to be out doing the same, but I want the three of you to do what the message says and evacuate."
"What?! We can't just leave!"
"You can, sweetheart, and you should. Wherever you can get to, so long as it's far away. There's nothing else for you to do, and these warnings are no joke. I promise I won't give up until I find them."
"But what if they come back here?"
"Leave a message for them on the door, and a few more inside the house. Tell them where you've gone, so they'll know to follow.
"I...I can't..."
The clock is ticking. Not much longer now. "Joyce, please."
"...alright."
"Thank you. I'll find them, I swear. We'll all see you soon. I love you."
"I love you, t-"
Then all the lights go out, and the call drops almost as soon as they do.
21:55, right on the nose.
It figures that Chloe would pick this one time to stick to a schedule.
Oct 10, 2013 - [9:53 pm]
Blackwell Academy Dorms – Room 224
Arcadia Bay, Oregon
I stare at the message on my phone, trying to decide whether or not someone is screwing with me.
Victoria knew this was going to happen. She practically said it was going to. Is this some Vortex Club prank no one told me about?
But if this is a prank, why did she tell me to pack a bag and stay safe?
A storm warning, though? Seriously? The weather outside is fine. Looking out my window, I can see the stars clearly. There isn't a cloud in the sky. Just that fucking double-moon optical illusion thing, but that's not a storm. It looks freaky as fuck, but it's not a storm.
Stuff like this is why I'm so tired of the Vortex Club and all its bullshit. That, and the fact that even after what happened to Kate, half of those assholes are still insisting none of it was our fault.
Okay, I just need to stay calm. There's no sense freaking myself out if there's nothing to freak out about. Of course, almost as soon as that thought passes through my head, everything goes dark.
"Okay, what the fuck?" I mutter.
My laptop gives off just enough light for me to find my way to the bag I put together. Victoria said to pack a flashlight, so I packed a flashlight. I carefully make my way to the door (I really should do a better job of keeping my floor tidy) and out into the hall. Looks like all the lights are out, except for a couple of emergency lamps mounted on the walls. With everyone else at the party, the dorms are dead silent. So much so that even the sound of my socks on the carpet seems weirdly loud.
Walking to the end of the hall, I peer out the window that overlooks the rest of Blackwell and beyond. The lights aren't just out for the school; all of Arcadia Bay has gone dark. Everyone at the party must be freaking out. I can totally picture Principal Wells standing right in the middle of all that chaos, shouting orders while everyone ignores him. It'll probably be that security goon, Mr. Madsen, who ends up taking over.
I wonder if Victoria is okay? I should probably go check on...no. She told me to stay away. She asked me to trust her, so that's what I'm going to do. And I'm going to keep my cool until she and I see each other tomorrow.
...even though she's totally into me and it took me an hour to stop making happy little squeaks every time I thought about the way she kissed my cheek. How the hell can a kiss on the cheek be so goddamn intense? And the way she was totally staring at my lips afterward? I'm pretty sure that if I'd had the guts to go for it, she totally would have kissed me for real.
What the hell is this feeling? It's like anti-anxiety and it is the fucking best! I'm so full of energy and there are butterflies in my stomach, and everything is all bright and shiny and awesome.
It's because you're in love, dumbass, I tell myself, then I shy away from the thought. I know Victoria likes me, but the absolute last thing I want is to scare her away with a big scary word like 'love'.
I can't just sit here, though. She told me to stay in the dorms until 9:50, but that was ten minutes ago so I guess that means it's safe to leave now? Because whether or not this whole thing is some elaborate prank, there's someone who could use a little reassurance right now. Mom is still confined to bed for another week. She's probably worried about me, and since the phones are down, too, this seems like a great time to go visit.
Heading back to my room, I grab my bag, pick up the keys to my nine-year-old crapmobile off my desk, and snatch the rain jacket hanging on the back of my door. Pausing before I leave, I shine my flashlight back into the room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything important, and the first thing I see is Alice looking up at me from her cage.
I try to ignore the sudden and intense unease I feel. Alice is fine now, and she'll be fine while I'm out...but what if she isn't? What if that storm warning was the real thing? The look on Victoria's face when she told me to stay safe makes me feel like it might be. Would Alice still be okay here? Animals can feel disasters coming, right? Or is that just earthquakes? Eyeing her closely, I try to get a vibe on whether she's worried.
"You'll be alright till I get back, right?"
She doesn't respond, because she's a rabbit. But now my anxiety is threatening to go full throttle on me again, so when her ear twitches a little that's pretty much all the convincing I need.
"Okay, fine. Gimme a minute."
Oct 10, 2013 - [9:57 pm]
Blackwell Academy – Pool Building
Arcadia Bay, Oregon
The pool building's emergency lights are just enough to reveal a crowd getting ready to panic. If that happens and people start shoving each other, it'll only be a matter of time before someone gets knocked into the pool. If their clothes are heavy or they've been drinking? If they slip beneath the surface before we spot them? The water is pitch black, so who knows if we'd be able to get to them before they drown.
I need to get on top of this right now. Guided by the small circle of light my flashlight puts out, I rush up onto the stage overlooking the pool, pull a whistle from my belt and blow it as hard as I can. The shrill sound cuts through the noise, echoing off the walls and leaving my ears ringing a little.
"EVERYBODY, LISTEN UP!" I bellow at the top of my lungs. Say what you will about the infantry, they'll definitely teach you how to yell. "Stay clear of the pool edge! Now, I want everyone to turn to the person on their right and grab hold of their wrist to form a line. The other security guards are going to guide you to the exits! Once you're outside, gather on the lawn in front of the main school building!"
After a moment of uncertain hesitation, I'm relieved when everyone does as their told. Guided by several of the school's security guards (who I've trained pretty darned well, if I do say so myself), the crowd makes its way out of the building in several long, connected lines. Clearing the building takes time, and nearly fifteen minutes has passed by the time the last two stragglers are herded outside. The half-dressed teens had been found screwing in a bathroom stall in the boy's locker room, surprisingly resistant to coming out.
And they say romance is dead.
I'm the last person out, and I'm pleased to see my guards have the crowd calm and safely clustered right where I told them to be. Wherever those guys end up looking for work after this storm, they can count on an absolutely glowing reference from me.
I'm headed toward them when the sound of an engine catches my attention, and I look over my shoulder in time to see a green subcompact car leaving the student parking lot. It's too far away to see who's driving it, but it does bring to light a problem that we need to get on top of right away. Carefully shouldering my way through the crowd, I murmur a quick order to one of the guards before stepping up onto the rim of the school's fountain. Taking a deep breath, I shout over the clamor. "Alright, everyone! I need your attention right here!"
Like before, everyone clams up. People might make fun of security guards, but when the shit hits the fan, one uniform is as good as another.
"For anyone who may not have seen the emergency SMS, the government has issued a tornado warning for several towns in central Tillamook County, including Arcadia Bay! I don't know any more than that, but for the moment the safest course of action is to follow the instructions they've provided."
"Oh, come on!" someone shouts. "It's just a blackout!"
It's too dark to see who it was, but that's probably for the best. If I could see them, I'd probably launch into one of my 'complacency can get you killed' speeches. That kind of thing is pretty standard in the military, but they tend not to go over as well with civilians. They always seem like the right thing to say at the time, but an hour later I'm looking back in embarrassment.
"Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't," I respond, as neutrally as I can manage. I don't want anyone to panic, but I still need them to take the danger seriously. "Hopefully, we'll all be back tomorrow. In the meantime, it's better to be safe than sorry."
Some grumbling follows, but no more argument.
"Anyone with their own vehicle, students included, will be allowed to leave campus. However, Officers Seger and Griffin will be waiting at the parking lot exit to administer breathalyzer tests." I gesture to the pair of surprised-looking ABPD officers standing nearby. "They've assured me that no one will be getting in any trouble for underage drinking, so long as they've got someone sober driving."
Under any other circumstances, putting any of these kids behind the wheel at all would be the last thing I'd want to do. But they're going to scatter the second I let them go, anyway. I might as well try to keep any of them from getting into a pointless accident in the process.
For their part, Seger and Griffin recover quickly. Crossing their arms and eying the crowd sternly, they're clearly trying to look like they're worth jack shit as police officers.
"After leaving the campus," I continue, "follow the tsunami evacuation route signs north to the muster point in Barnesdale. There should be other ABPD officers there, ready to provide instruction or direct you further inland, if necessary. Any questions?"
There aren't any. People mostly seem anxious to be on their way.
"Good." I nod, giving Seger and Griffin time to get into position. "Anyone who doesn't have a ride, stay where you are. I'm arranging for the school bus to come around to drive everyone to the muster point. It'll be here soon, so students that live in the dorms should take this opportunity to go back to their rooms and pack an overnight bag. Don't dawdle, though. Once you're ready, come right back here."
I pause again, my eyes sweeping the crowd. There are plenty of nervous faces, but no one is panicking. "Alright, then. Get going, everyone. And be safe."
Like I predicted, as soon as I give the all clear the crowd practically scatters. Bill, the runner I sent to fetch the bus driver, should make it to the man's house in about fifteen minutes and be back with the bus in another ten. Bill's a good soldi...man. Bill's a good man. I know I can count on him.
Sending another guard to go kick Wells' drunk ass out of bed, I glance down at my phone to see exactly the same thing as the last dozen times I checked it. No reception, so no word from Chloe. Forcing myself to put it away, I take a slow breath. I'd give anything to know she was okay, but so far her side of the plan has gone perfectly. All I can do now is keep up my end and hope that we see each other tomorrow.
"Be safe, Chloe," I mutter, watching the few pairs of headlights I can see moving along Bay Avenue and allowing myself a few seconds to wonder if any of them belong to that godawful junkheap she calls a truck. "Please be safe."