#####OQ######
Pushing the county library's door open, he walked up to the gray headed woman at the desk. "Hi, I'm here to see Janie Hall."
The woman looked over her glasses at him. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No." He smiled his best fake charming smile and tilted his head just so. "But if you would, could you ask if she's got a minute to fit me in?" While he thought, seriously, she's a librarian, and she's booked solid?
"I'm sorry but Ms. Hall doesn't normally see people without an appointment. In fact, she down right discourages it. I can give you her administrative assistant's number and you could call her and make an appointment."
"Is she in?" He knew the answer since he'd seen her new SUV parked outside.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then would you, please, pick up the phone and ask her if she'll see me. I'd like to see her today."
The woman looked pained.
"What if I said pretty, please? And add that it's important."
Once more, he flashed his smile and the older woman caved.
"Alright, for you, I'll see if she's available, Coach Queen."
"You know me?"
"Of course, I know you, Coach Queen. And my name's Lisa Smith." She extended her hand, and he carefully shook it. "I'm related to Nick Mitchell. His aunt actually. And when is his first game? My family's looking forward to it."
It was all he could do not to cringe before he said, "A little over two weeks now."
"Well, we'll be there. Along with probably most of the town." And she smiled brightly at him.
"That's great." But her words tightened his gut, and he reached in his pocket and fingered her hair tie for an moment.
Picking the phone up, she dialed a few numbers. "Janie, I hate to bother you, but Coach Queen's here to see you. I know he doesn't have an appointment."
A long pause and the woman frowned then said, "Yes, Janie."
Another bit of silence before Lisa said, "I understand that but he said it's important."
"Tell her I will drop by her house tonight around seven if she doesn't want to see me now."
The women repeated his words. "Yes, of course, I'll send him up." And she hung up the phone with the words, "She can give you five minutes. If you'll follow me."
"Thank you for asking for me, and I hope I didn't get you in trouble." While he narrowed his eyes. Five minutes. Hmm. Clearly the woman didn't want to see him. But why?
Leading him past several books stacks and toward the back of the building, she reached a staircase and pointed. "It will be fine. Janie and I have worked together a long time. You need to turn left at the top of the stairs and then go down the hall and her office is all the way in the back. Nice to meet you by the way, and I'll see you at Nick's first game, and Coach Queen," her voice lowered, "Janie Hall has a lot of pull in this town, maybe you should remember that."
"Nice to meet you too, and thanks for the directions, but trust me, I can take care of myself."
Yet, he thought, great more people to watch his team get their butts kicked and seriously this woman had warned him about the town library director, like this woman held some power over him.
Well that'd be the day.
If she only knew the real him, and he grinned, thinking that Felicity would love this. Just wait until he told her.
And he exhaled sharply at the thought of them discussing it later as a small smile tugged at his lips.
Climbing the library stairs two steps at a time, he hit the landing, turned left and walked until he found the door that said, Janie Hall, Library Director, and he walked right in.
Entering the door, he saw a dark haired woman, who looked up like a deer caught in the headlights. "Please, have a seat."
She pointed to a chair beside her desk.
Folding his large frame into the small chair, he waited as the woman, whose name plate said Jennifer Price, fidgeted in her seat as time dragged.
Finally, the phone rang, and the woman clearly jumped before she jerked around in her chair and answered.
"Yes, Janie, I will right now. Just give me a second."
She stood, and pointed. "Go right in. She's expecting you."
Unfolding himself, he stood and walked into the next office.
A large woman, build solidly, Janie Hall's hair had just started to gray. Guessing her age, he figured her to be in her late thirty's, maybe early forties.
And from the look on her face, she was anything but pleased to see him.
Of course, she ignored him for an instant, clearly making her point that she didn't have time for him. As yes, she obviously made him wait a few seconds, let him cool his heels as she plainly disregarded his presence. Her entire attention on the papers in her hand before she slowly closed the folder and stood and held out her large hand.
Before he shook her strong hand, he experienced the distinct feeling of being in a principal's office and being in serious trouble, and of course, she squeezed his hand hard when she shook it, and he realized she was a strong woman.
Giving a slight nod, she said, "Coach Queen, it's nice to meet you. Please, have a seat."
Yet, her eyes said otherwise as he sat down in a leather chair that squeaked.
No, not pleased at all, he thought as the woman sat back down too.
Smiling his best fake smile, he said, "Thank you for taking the time to see me, Ms. Hall. I understand you're busy."
Instinct kicked in as he quickly surveyed the room.
Two real oil paintings were on her large office's white gleaming walls. Her desk comprised of a small stack of papers held down with a glass whatnot, and the thought that the room seemed almost too clean crossed his mind, which was weird since he himself didn't need much but this woman had worked here fifteen years.
Where was the cutter of life?
The bookshelves held several more glass whatnots, most of them expensive blown glass and several books that looked like first editions.
And old first editions, leather bound.
Yet most of her space lay bare.
"How can I help you?" Yet, her tone sounded hardly helpful.
Scanning her neat desk, he processed that she had no pictures. His eyes quickly scanned the room again. No, she wasn't bragging about her sister's orphaned children, and he fought his immediate dislike for the woman.
And once again, something felt wrong, off, with this family, but he forced himself to say, "I needed your input."
"About?" She wouldn't meet his eye.
"Josh Peters."
"What has that little idiot done now to cause trouble?" She narrowed her eyes and her face turned hard.
"Josh has missed soccer practice two days in a row. And frankly, I'm worried. It's not like him. Okay, he's always late to dress out, but he always shows up, and he's never been any trouble at all."
"You'd be wrong there." She met his eyes now and hers flashed. "Josh has been nothing but trouble since I got on the plane with him, and he chose his skateboard over his suitcase of clothes. Did you know he left an entire suitcase of clothes in LA because he wanted a stupid skateboard?"
"I'm not surprised. He seems to love his skateboard, but I've noted that he needs new clothes. His are bare thread and baggy."
"That's none of your business." She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Maybe not, but he still needs new clothes. The boy's pretty much wearing rags."
"Maybe, he likes his rags. Now clearly this isn't your problem. Look, Mr. Queen, you're nothing but a volunteer coach, and you need to understand what this town wants is for do your job and coach that stupid ragtag team and stop putting your nose where it clearly doesn't belong."
His stomach tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Look, I'm doing my job. I care about my team. Yes, they have problems, but you need to understand that I'm not stepping away because Josh is a member of my team. And I intend to look for him until I find him."
She gave a small wave. "Do what you want, Mr. Queen. But, don't trouble yourself since, believe me, that foolish boy isn't worth your time. Now if you'll excuse me?"
"It's no trouble. And I understand you're busy but exactly when did you see Josh last?"
He'd wanted to see her face when he asked that question, and Janie Hall didn't disappoint.
Her face took on a pained expression, and he watched her hand fist before she straightened in her chair. Watching, he noted her hand uncurled, as she gave a dismissive wave. "Look, Josh disappears for days on end sometimes. He's like his mother, a bit high strung. So, I give him no mind. He'll be back when he gets hungry."
And you didn't answer the question, he thought before he ask, "Has he ever been gone this long before?"
The woman bit her bottom lip before she said, "No, normally it's just overnight."
"Wait, Josh, doesn't sleep at home?"
She frowned harshly. "I have a strict rule about curfew. If you come in after curfew then you face the consequences."
"Which are?"
"I lock you out." Her face hardened.
"At what time?"
"Six."
"You do realize that I sometimes hold practice until 5:30?"
"Well he's supposed to pick up his little brother by then, no wonder they've been calling me."
"Perhaps, you need to make other arrangements since he's court ordered to play, and I decide how long to hold my team for practice."
Her look smoldered, when he ask, "If at six you lock the door, then what happens?"
"He has to knock or he figures it out."
"Which means what? Where does he sleep? Do you know any friends he might be staying with?"
"No."
And the word seemed final.
Again the feeling something was terribly wrong with this household plagued him, as she looked down and he thought you're lying when she said, "I didn't say that he didn't sleep at home, and no, I don't know any of his friends. Now I have a meeting and this meeting is over."
"One more question."
"Which is?"
"Why haven't you reported Josh missing?"
She visibly bristled.
"Jeff has enough on his plate, and I didn't want to bother him with Josh's repeated teenage stupidity."
"Josh is hardly stupid. You're aware that he has the IQ of a genius?"
"Not that I've yet seen him display. Besides he's only been gone a couple of days. I'm sure he's out making trouble for me yet again, and he'll be back soon enough. He's just like my sister, selfish and head strong, with no thought for others."
"You do realize he's violating the terms of his probation by not calling in?"
This time she met his eyes before she said smugly, "That would be Josh's fault. But of course, if you think you need to revoke his probation, I'll understand."
Her tone tightened his chest, since she sounded like she'd be thrilled if he'd do exactly that.
"Do you know if I revoke his probation, he'll go to a state detention center and possibility stay there until he's nineteen?"
"Well, he's the one making that choice now isn't he?"
"But you're talking four years. You do realize that he'd, no doubt, be ruined by then?"
"He's already ruined. He was pretty much worthless by the time my sister died. His foolish parents spoiled him into an insufferable brat who seems intent on getting into trouble."
"And the other two?" His tone didn't give away the intense dislike he felt for this woman at the moment but it was an effort not to show it.
"I have hope for Will, since he's still young. But Ruby could go either way. She could be smart and conform or be a fool like her brother." She gave a wave of her hand. And she stood, clearly dismissing him, with the words, "Now, I have a meeting. If you'll excuse me?"
He wanted to say how dare you? But instead he stood. "Thank you for your time. Would you have Josh text me if he comes back?"
"Oh course." She reached out and shook his hand once more, and he turned and walked away.
As soon as he exited the building, he called Felicity.
"Tell me," she said breathlessly, and he knew her eyes were lighting up the way they did when she was excited.
"The aunt's not in the least concerned that Josh has been missing for two days. She pretty well admitted that Josh doesn't sleep at home. I don't like her at all. Something's wrong in this household."
"I believe you, but why would he do that? I've talked to a few people, and he's a loner. So where's he sleeping? If he's not going home after practice, where's he going?"
"I don't know, but I bet if we figure it out, then we'll find those teens."
"Those lost boys have to be somewhere."
"You and your lost boys."
"Well that's what they are. They're your boys and they're lost." She inhaled sharply, before she said, "Oliver, have you thought about asking your team for help? Maybe they know something we don't."
"Maybe I should. Can you message each of them at the beginning of practice and send pictures of the lost boys out?"
"Sure, consider it done."
"And Felicity, she wants me to revoke his probation, so he can go to detention for the next four years."
"We've got to do something about this, Oliver. Josh Peters belongs at Google, to the computer age, not in a jail cell. We're not sending his brain to Criminal 101.
"Agreed, but we have to find him first."
#####OQ#####
Standing at the locker door, he waited for them as they came in for practice, with the words, "Don't dress out. Just have a seat. And you can play on your phones, while you wait."
Their faces registered shock as they filed in and sat down.
Phil hit the door and stopped in his tracks, clear surprise showing on his face.
"Welcome back, Phil. We're about to have a meeting so just have a seat."
And they kept filing in, though none of them talked, instead choosing to play on their phones. By the time seventeen teens sat on the benches in the locker room, the stress in the room lay thick enough anyone of them could cut it with a knife.
Pulling the portable dry erase board out, he wrote his phone number on the board.
"I want everyone to put my number in your phone, if it's not there already."
Several of them tapped his number into their phones.
"Now, like it or not we're team. We're a court ordered team. But we are also starting to be a real team."
Felicity, with her normal flair for drama, made the players' phones sound with a text, sending each team member a text with her normal perfect timing, as she send each player pictures of what she called his lost boys.
"All of you just got a text. Open it."
With a broad hand, he wrote the three missing teens names on the board before he eyed each and every one of them, his eyes sweeping down the line of teens.
"Now these three have been missing for almost two days. Get it. Almost forty eight hours." He eyed them hard before he said, "That's a long time for no one to have seen three people in this town. NOW, I want answers."
Again, he hesitated before he said, "If any of you know anything, feel free to text me. I want you to know I'm not looking for them to get them in trouble. So if you know something, you're not ratting anyone out, and I won't tell anyone you've talked to me. You can trust me to keep it to myself."
He waited before he went on. "Now let me tell you that I've talked to each of their parents or guardians and no one knows where they are. The local law enforcement has been, well let me say outright, less than willing to look for them. But we," he looked the group up and down and some of them met his eyes before he said, "Those three are part of OUR team."
Pointing at them, he said, "And we need to figure out where they are. Pretend I didn't say this but I want you to know that if you were missing, we, your team would look for you. So, where the HELL are they? Something's wrong with this picture."
He paused for effect.
"Now, we all know that they didn't just drop off the face of the earth and this practice, instead of kicking the ball, we're going to go out and look for them. I want each and every one of you out in the field. I meant the town, talking to people, showing them those pictures of Josh, Stan and Jordan. I want everyone looking for them until we figure out where they are. Now who's with me?"
You could have heard a pin drop. Then they shuffled their feet, several looked down, others looked at each other.
At that moment, he thought they weren't going to help, but then slowly, Alonzo, whose large frame was well over two hundred solid pounds, stood. "I'll do the docks. I think Josh hangs down there somewhere."
David stood beside him and added, "I saw Josh headed toward the docks a couple days ago. I agree we should look toward the water."
Marcus said quietly, "Stan's girlfriend threw chocolate milk on Josh at lunch a couple of days ago, maybe Stan went looking for Josh."
"And Jordan and Stan are best friends." Added Scott. "I don't see them being buddies with Josh. You're right, Coach that's there's something wrong with this picture. I can cruise the projects and talk to some people."
And Oliver smiled and nodded. "Then let's hit the streets."
#####OQ#####
Josh woke up much later to find the sun high in the sky, and the need to puke overwhelmed him. Rolling out of the newpapers, he hit the floor, crying out as he jarred his broken arm, and moved to the over side of the room and even with nothing in his stomach, he fell to his knees and dry heaved.
"Josh, you okay?" Stan asked. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up. You worried me."
"Sure, I'm good," he lied.
But he wasn't.
His stomach hurt, and his left chest and shoulder ached like a bad tooth, and he knew he was still bleeding inside and the blood was aggravating the nerves in his shoulder. Dizziness assaulted him, and he shut his eyes to stay up right.
"Josh, talk to me. You don't sound good."
"Give me a minute." It truly hurt to inhale, and he had to use his good hand to steady himself as he opened his eyes, but for the first time, he noted a small tan cable that ran down the very corner of the room and an idea exploded in his brain. Painfully, he got up and followed the cable. Digging with his good hand through the debris, he found a small tan box still bolted on the wall and his heart sped up, his brain working frantically.
Jordan picked that time to groan and Josh said, "Jordan, good to hear you're still with us this morning. Wondered if you'd hang around or you'd be checking out."
"Like this place is a motel, huh, Jordan?" Stan said. "That's a good one, Josh."
"Well if it is then, I'm slumming. Josh, I can't say I'm impressed with your place by the way. So what are you up to this delightful morning?"
He almost grinned. "Well, I'm just about to call room service for you. Anything you'd like to order. Bacon and eggs, maybe?"
"I'm up for blueberry waffles like my dad makes." Stan quipped, "Or he's got these great pumpkin pancakes."
"Funny you two. I'm dying and starving and you two are making jokes and talking about food. "
Checking the box the plug seemed intact. "Well if you're going to dream then dream big. Hey, Stan, why don't you see if you can get one of those fish cans open."
"Way ahead of you. Come get your share of breakfast."
"Jordan, gets the first drink."
"Talk about nasty. Think I'll pass. You two drink it. I'm not going to live anyway. Why torture myself?"
"Don't talk like that. I know it's gross but think about your daughter. We have to drink it since none of us can survive without liquid, and it's our only source of water. Tell you what if you drink it and eat a couple bites, I'll share this roach with you."
"Now you're talking. Wake and bake. That I can do. Being buried alive isn't everything it's cracked up to be. Trust me. Today, I feel like my legs are asleep. I need a pain killer right now. "
"I hear you. I'm in pain too."
But he didn't add, and we're running out of time. His stomach ached like a fiery ball of constant pain. His shoulder and chest were shouting with ripping discomfort every time he moved, and he knew his internal bleeding was putting pressure on his stomach and nerve endings.
He hadn't checked Jordan's feet yet, but last night they had already lost most of their pink. Today was going to be the last day the two of them spent in this room one way or another, and he knew it.
"Josh, come eat your share." Stan insisted.
"I will. Give me a minute."
"Okay, but you need to have your share."
"I'm coming."
Forcing himself, he drank some of the liquid the fish was packed in. But, he couldn't make himself eat the fish.
"I ate it so you have to eat it too."
"Jordan, I can't." He shook his head. "Sorry but the fish would never stay down and puking hurts."
Silence answered him then he carefully explained to Stan how to fashion a roach clip out of a piece of splintered wood.
"Next to the last one." He handed Stan the roach. "Light it up."
"That's lots better. Thanks, man." Jordan said a little while later with a sigh.
"Happy, I could make your day."
The pain somewhat pushed back, he stood and circled the room once more. Earlier, he'd seen some old land lines in the beat up filing cabinet, and he remembered they'd been ancient, but they might work. Moving slowly, gingerly now, he walked over to the filing cabinet.
Opening the drawer, he pulled the old phones out one by one. Both of them were antique enough that they had rotary dials. However, the dial was missing off one of the phones and the second one broke off in his hand when he touched it, but his mind worked franticly, thinking, as he turned the problem, the puzzle, over and over in his head.
"What are you thinking, Josh?" Stan asked.
"Yeah, talk. It's hard to stay awake. I want to sleep," Jordan said tiredly, and he knew Jordan's blood pressure had to be dropping.
"Try to stay awake, Jordan. I'm thinking that maybe they never shut this land line off."
"Like that would ever happen," Jordan said with a small chuckle. "The phone companies love their money. Do you not have a phone?"
"No, not most of the time. My aunt takes it away. The days of always having a phone died with my parents. But, it's a chance. And maybe with these two old phones, I can make one of them work. I know this doesn't help my case on the smart thing, but I know certain things. I read something about these types of phones a while back."
"I'm thinking we need you to be smart right now, but I don't see how two dinosaur phones are going to help us." Jordan whimpered this time.
"I understand how these old phones work."
"You must mean worked because I don't see how they're going to work now." Stan drug his body across the floor to come sit beside him.
"Damn my fucking broken leg hurts like hell. GRRR." His face grimaced. "Not that I've had a lot of experience with landlines, but I'm sure we have to have a phone line to plug one into the wall."
"You're right, we do. But look, Stan. "
"And Jordan. I'm still here. I can't see but I can hear."
"Okay, and Jordan, I can take the cord from the receiver to the phone and use it as a cord to the wall. It's the same jack and the phone doesn't care." Almost grinning, he said, "Both of you keep your fingers crossed."
He plugged the cords in and picked up the receiver and his stomach bottomed out as he found a dead line.
"Anything?" Jordan said hopefully from across the room.
He bit his lip then crushed Jordan's hopes with the words, "No, nothing. Sorry. But give me a second."
His mind raced now.
"Figures, I told you so. When has the greedy ass phone company ever left a phone turned on if no one pays the bill?" Jordan said in a small voice.
"Wait. That's it. Yes, I know the answer to the puzzle."
"What puzzle?" Stan asked.
"The how to get up the hell out of here puzzle."
"Keep talking, Josh. I'd love to get this shit off my legs. It's crushing me. Please, tell me how you solved the puzzle. I'm dying to hear."
"Not funny, Jordan."
"Not meaning it to be. Well come on, tell me what's the answer."
"Look, we have two flashlights, which means we have power."
"Josh, you're not making much sense." Stan shook his head.
"Guys, when they shut landlines off, they just shut off your power source. The phone line's hopefully still intact. What we need is a power supply. With twelve volts, I could turn this phone back on. And we have twelve volts in the flashlight batteries. The phone's probably not to work right but it should work."
"You have to be fucking kidding me. You're talking science fiction here," Jordan said with a low moan.
"No. It will work." He insisted as he tried to take the large six volt battery out of one of the flashlights but found it close to impossible with only one hand, an aching stomach, chest and shoulder and just trying to do it made his chest tighten painfully and he cried out.
"Damn, I can't do this with one hand. Grrr. Jesus, I want to scream."
"Josh, calm down, I have two hands and you don't." Stan looked him seriously in the eye. "Please, let me help. Let me be your hands. Just tell me what to do. I want out of here too, you know? We all need to get out of here."
"Okay, yeah, I know that. You're right. I should let you help." He forced himself to breathe, to cool down, as he handed Stan the flashlight, with the words, "Take both of the batteries out of the flashlights."
"Okay, got it."
And Stan removed the batteries.
"Good. Now, use your pocket knife and remove the wires from one of the flashlight's on and off button. We need jumper wires."
"I can do that. Just give me a little time." Stan struggled a little but managed to remove the wires.
"Okay, now use your knife to take the box off of the wall. We have to get to the wiring. Jordan, you still with us? I need you to fight to hold on. What is your daughter's name?"
"Alisa, but we call her Lisa, but I need a nap."
"NO, stay awake. You'll die if you go to sleep. Fight to stay awake. Think about your daughter. Yes, that's good Stan. Now hook the spring's negative post to the positive post on the two batteries and link them together."
"Sure, which one's negative?"
"They're marked. A minus for negative and a plus for positive. Look. Read."
"Wow, they are. I see them."
"That's it. Good, now, stretch the spring out and connect them. Yes, you just linked the two batteries together and doubled the six volts to twelve volts. Okay, now take the wire from the flashlight and make a jumper wire."
"Huh?"
"We're using the two batteries to power the phone up. We're jumping the system."
"Kind of like jumping a car?" Jordan said weakly, "I really wish I could see what you two are doing."
"I'll show you another time."
"Promise me, Josh. I want you to promise me that you'll show me after we get out of here."
Josh's throat closed up but he cleared it. "Sure, I promise, Jordan. I'll show you after we get out of here. Alright, Stan, this takes a light touch. I want you to skin back the coating on the red and the green wire on the phone box."
"This one?"
"Yes." He noted Stan's hand shook, and he started to cut then stopped, scrubbing his face with his hands.
"Look, it's going to be fine, Stan. You've got this and if you mess up and cut the wire, we've got plenty more wire to slice. And I know how to fix the splice in the phone box. Come on, just breathe and then cut about this much of the casing off, about ΒΌ of an inch. You need to take the coating off but don't cut through the wire. You can do this."
"Yeah, I can do this."
"I know you can." He said and Stan grinned a little as he said, "I'm way glad you're here. I couldn't have done this without you. Tell you what, I'm going to check on Jordan, while you finish up."
Standing carefully, he cradled his arm and the left side of his stomach, and walked to Jordan and then settled on the floor beside the teen that a few days ago wasn't his friend, but now maybe he was.
"How you doing?"
"I'm tired and it's hard to breath. I'm dying. Just not fast enough."
"Don't even talk like that. No, we are going to win, going to survive this. I've figured out the get us the hell out of here puzzle."
"Maybe, but I don't know. Look, Josh, could you call Stan over?"
"Sure. Stan, could you get a little closer, Jordan wants to talk to you."
"Can't you just talk loud, Jordan? Broken leg here. Hell to get around with, and I'm still skinning wire. Remind me later to get a decent ass pocket knife."
"You can tell him for me, okay, Josh?"
"Sure, I'll tell him."
"First off, I want you to know I'm sorry we didn't give you a chance, and that we came looking for you wanting to beat you up. It was wrong of me, of us."
"It's no big deal, Jordan."
"Yes, it is. And I'm being punished for it, for being a bully. It was wrong of me, and I want to die with a clean slate."
"You're not going to die."
Jordan shut his eyes and fell quiet before he said, "Promise me, Josh? I want you to tell my family that I loved them, all of them, especially my little girl, Alisa. I know I wasn't there when I should have been but tell her that her daddy loved her a lot. Tell her mom to go and get the check. There's a check on me if I'm dead, she can draw it every month to help raise my daughter. Then tell my mom."
"Stop, Jordan, I'm not listening to this. You're not going to die."
"NO! Listen to me. I have to say this. You have to tell my mom, I'm sorry I disappointed her. I know she wanted me to graduate, wanted me to be the first in our family to ever walk the walk. I knew it was important to her. But I can't stay much longer. I feel strange. The worse since I fell. I'm not going to make it."
"Yes, you are. We're going to get this phone working. You have to hold on. Try to stay, to hold on. Stop talking like this. You can tell them yourself. You have to fight to stay here."
Yet, he knew Jordan didn't look good, and he'd checked his legs again earlier and wasn't happy with how pale Jordan had become. Touching his cool neck, he found Jordan's rapid heart rate, and he knew his heart struggled to pump enough oxygen to his tissues.
"I'm done." Stan yelled. "Try it, Josh."
"Okay! Rest, Jordan. We're going to get help. You have to hold on. Just hold ON. And try to stay awake."
"Promise you'll tell them?"
"Yeah, I promise."
And Jordan's eyes fluttered shut.
Carefully, he stood and returned to Stan's side.
"That's good, Stan."
"How's Jordan?"
"Not good. His blood pressure's dropping. We have to get him help or else. Now that you have the wires skinned back, you're going to splice into the red wire, with the wire from the flashlight."
"Splice?"
"Yes, we're connecting the batteries to the phone line now. We're about to jumpstart this phone. I want you to remember that you need to hook up the positive first, so wrap the skinned wire to positive wire on the battery and then hook it to the red wire on the phone box."
Stan started to do it, then drew back and asks, "Will it shock me?"
"No, too low of voltage. Do it."
Inhaling sharply, Stan connected the wire.
"Good, now the other one. Hook the wire from the negative to the green wire."
"The moment of truth!"
Lifting the receiver, his stomach plunged, as he said sharply, "You did it, Stan. Our first break, it has static, it's humming, but we have a dial tone."
"But how are we going to call out since there's no buttons?" Stan's intense face looked at him.
"This phone's never had buttons. It's called a rotary dial telephone. You put your finger in the number and spun the dial. And back in those days, they made a lock that locked the dial down. It kept people from making long distance calls, but of course, like most things in life, there's a hack."
"A hack?" Jordan said from across the room. "I love watching life hacks on Youtube."
"Yeah, this phone sends out pulses over the line when you dial a number. If you dial a five then it sends out five pulses."
"But we don't have a dial" Stan pointed to the broken phone.
"Very true but you can use the switch and get the same results. Look, if I click the hook nine times, wait a second and do one and then one again we should be able to dial 911."
"No way!" Stan shook his head.
"Yes, way! Here goes." He clicked nine times then one then one and got a warning noise.
His shoulders slumped.
"It should have worked. But it's making like an alarm."
"Maybe it takes a number to get out. Maybe you're on a network," Jordan said softly, weakly, and he wondered how much time Jordan had left, how much time he had left. "Josh, last year, my mom worked at a place that we had to dial a nine to get an outside line if you used a phone on their network. Put a nine in front of it."
He clicked nine times, nine times again and a one and another one and the phone rang.
"911! What's your emergency?"
"We're trapped in the old cannery on Twelfth Avenue. The roof collapsed under us. All are hurt and need help and now!"
"911. What's your emergency?"
"Didn't you hear me? We're trapped."
"I've got no location and no answer. Maybe a prank?"
"Can you trace it?" Another voice said.
"There's no number to trace. It say's unavailable."
"Probably a hacker jacking with us. Just hang up on them."
And the phone went dead.
He groaned. "They can't hear us."
And Jordan and Stan groaned too.
"Help me, Stan, trade the handsets."
But the exact same thing happened, and 911 hung up on them and they even traded phones but 911 still hung up on them for the third time.
"No one can hear us, can they?" Stan's face fell. "So much for hope."
"Yeah, we have a phone but no one can hear us. We probably don't have enough volts for them to hear us."
"Well that was pretty useless. Since, we're still going to die down here. Go on and fire that last roach up, at least let me die happy." Jordan said from across the room.
"Okay, we have to think. If 911, isn't going to help us. Who else can we call?"
"Well, exactly how many people's numbers do you know? Me that would be no one." Stan shrugged then frowned.
"Hell, I don't even know my own number," Jordan said quietly. "I have to look my number up to give it out. Okay, I admit it. I depend on my phone to remember numbers. I don't remember any numbers."
"I understand. Me too. We've become a generation of letting our phones be our memory. But wait. I do know a number. Let me think. Wait, I know Coach Queen's number."
"Why would you know his number? He's such a hard ass. And I hate practice. Don't you?"
"Yeah, his long practices get me locked out all the time. But I remember his number because he wrote it on the blackboard the first day of practice. We're supposed to call in if we didn't come to practice. I can see it."
"That was weeks ago. Like you can remember that?"
"Yes, I can. I can see it in my mind. Believe me. Give me a second. I can see the blackboard. Coach's number was long distance and my mind noted that. And it's stupid but my brain takes pictures of certain things. Yes, I see it. Stan, write this number in the dirt on the floor."
He handed him a piece of wood as he raddled off a series of numbers.
Reaching for the old phones, he said, "Okay, here goes nothing."
It was hard to try to press the handle left handed and get it right.
"Damn it's too many clicks again. I keep messing it up."
"Josh, let me try. I have two hands remember."
"Okay. You do it."
And Stan got through on the first time.
"Hello." A pause. "Hello? Is someone there?" And of course, when no one talked, Coach hung up on them.
"Keep calling him back. I have faith. I have to. I've decided I want to live. Coach is smart. He'll figure it out and he'll come. Please let him come and soon. We only have so much battery life."
"I'll keep calling until he comes. I promise."
But Coach hung up repeatedly and then he turned his phone off.
"Keep trying. Fill up his voice mail."
A little while later Stan said, "He's turned his phone back on but now he's not answering. I guess we should give up."
Josh bit his lip before he said, "No. Call him and let it ring three times then hang up. Then do it again. But only let it ring three times."
"Three times? Why three?"
"Because SOS is always in threes. In Morris code it's three short, three long and three short tones and right now three rings is the only chance we have until we run out of battery."
#####OQ#####
"Any luck?" She asked as he opened the door after giving up the search to go home and eat a bite.
"The team helped search for them but so far pretty much nothing. Except, my phone's lost its mind. I think I need an update."
He tossed his stupid phone on the table and she picked it up. "What's it doing? Well to start with it's turned off." She powered his phone back on.
"I know that. I turned it off. I want you wipe my phone's brain. It's been ringing almost constantly for the last half hour. First it would ring and no one was there and the number was unavailable. Then I turned it off and back on. I finally stopped answering it and now it rings three times and then stops and then rings three more and then three more, over and over."
"Oliver, you're sure it's in three's?"
"Of course, I'm sure. Listen there it goes again. I've rebooted it repeatedly and it just keeps doing it. I tried shutting it off and then whoever is calling fills up my voice mail but they're not talking."
The phone ran three times, stopped for probably a full minute and then rang three times again. Grabbing her tablet, she said, "Oliver, threes are the universal code for SOS. I'd say someone's trying to get your attention. Maybe your lost boys?"
"Trust you to know that."
His phone rang and she grinned at him as she answered. "Listen, I think you know that we can't hear you, but if you're calling for help then call back and let the phone ring four times."
He rubbed the back of his neck and sat down beside her and waited, entertaining himself by reaching for her hand and playing with her fingers.
A full minute later, the phone rang four times stopped then rang again, and Felicity pulled away from him and answered. "Okay, you need help. Are you hurt? Let it ring two times if you need medical attention."
"Can you trace the call?"
She tilted her head and began talking with her hands, as his phone rang twice then went silent. "Already on it. When they call back have them stay on the line."
In a few minutes, his phone rang again. Oliver picked it up and said, "You need to stay on the line, we're tracing your location and it will take a couple minutes. Trust me, I know you need help."
"Oliver, I've traced this call back to an old condemned cannery near the docks. Maybe that's where your lost boys are. Maybe they're trapped, which is why they've disappeared."
He nodded. "If this is Jordan, Stan or Josh, I'm on my way. I'm coming for you. If this is any of you then don't call back. I've gotten the message, and I'll be there soon."
And he severed the call and for the first time in about an hour his phone went eerily silent.
"It's them. I think we've found your lost boys." She smiled and tilted her blonde head, and he smiled back.
"Yeah, thanks to you." Turning, he walked into the bedroom. Opening the closet door, he removed a small box and opened it. Reaching, he pulled out a small device and pressed a button and his bow extended.
It felt good, right, in his hand. Reaching, he pulled out his quiver and loaded a couple of different arrows. Reaching, he pulled a green hoodie out of the closet.
Looking up, he saw Felicity staring at him with a slight smile on her face. "Are you sure you need that? This is probably nothing."
"Maybe, but better safe than sorry. And I don't know what I'm walking in to, all I know is I've got three missing kids."
"How exactly are you going to explain that to anyone that sees you with your gear?"
"I can collapse it." He frowned.
"And your quiver? The green hoodie? Do you really want to open that can of worms? This maybe small town but they have the internet you know?"
Sighing, he pressed the button, collapsing the bow and carefully returned it to the box. Hanging up the quiver, he grabbed a hanger and hung the hoodie up too. "You're right as usual, people would ask too many questions. "
"But your tracker's in your boot, right?"
"And in my phone."
"Not that matters since I'm coming with you."
"No, I'll call you as soon as I know something. Call Mae. See if she'll dispatch an ambulance. Ask if they've had any 911 hang up calls today."
"Do you want me to call the cops?"
"Maybe later."
"Then I'll meet you at the hospital. Now go find those lost boys, those teens."
"Yeah!" He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss then headed out.
#####OQ#####
The three of them sat close now as he hoped that Coach hurried.
"Josh, talk," Jordan said weakly. "Tell me how you got so smart. Tell me about California. I always thought it would be cool to go there. And now I don't think I ever will."
"Hang on. Coach is coming. I heard him say he's coming. Tell him Stan."
"He said he knew where we were. Even said our names."
"Good." He said weakly.
Josh reached and squeezed his hand. "It won't be long now. We just have to wait a little while longer. Here let's smoke the last of this. I don't want to get busted with it."
"Sure, okay. But someone talk. Josh?"
"Okay, I guess I was born smart. And California? What can I say? I lived in LA, and my parents had a house near the beach. I grew up playing in the ocean, swimming, surfing, snorkeling and scuba diving."
"You can scuba dive?" Stan settled back against the debris and used his hands to re-position his injured leg, with a small groan, as Josh dug in his pocket and pulled out the last roach and handed it to Stan.
"Yeah, my mom was into it, and she started me in classes at ten. I learned in a swimming pool, and then got to go out in the ocean with Mom. There's a whole other world down under the water."
"I'd like to do that," Jordan said very softly.
"Me too," Stan said as he fashioned another clip and lit the roach and held for Jordan.
"Well, it takes years but I was certified and could have gotten my PADI Open Water Diver certification when I turned fifteen. Mom and I had talked about the dive we were going to go on when I turned fifteen." His throat closed up on him, and he stopped talking as his chest contracted.
"I'm sorry about your parents, Josh."
Now this throat really closed up and he sniffed before he said, "Thanks, Stan."
"Me too. But keep talking," Jordan insisted. "Where did you go to school? Everyone says you went to a special school."
"Another reason people don't like me."
"Yeah, probably." Stan gave him a small grin. "But go on."
"Well my dad put me in a private school for smart kids."
"Smart kids? Huh?" Jordan said then whimpered but he hit the roach one more time.
"Yeah, I worked at my own pace. At that school there's no busy work like at this one. I wrote a lot of computer code back then. I was supposed to go to work for Google after I turned eighteen."
"Seriously?" Stan said.
"Yeah, seriously. That's why I hate school here."
Jordan's voice was weak as he ask, "You're past high school, huh?"
"Yeah, I am," he said quietly. "And I'm past bored at this school. What about you?"
But Jordan didn't answer.
"Jordan?" Stan whited as he reached and touched Jordan arm shaking him. "Josh, he's really cold. No, Jordan, you can't be dead. Don't you dare be dead."
"Move, let me see." Reaching, he felt for Jordan's pulse at the base of his neck. It was slow but still there. "Don't freak out, Stan, he's just passed out. Maybe we should all try to rest. I don't feel well myself. I'm going to be sick again. The pot helped but not enough."
Rising, he moved away from them, as he fell to his knees and puked, dry heaved, until he thought he'd die if the urge to puke didn't stop.
Finally the shakes set in, and he collapsed on the floor, his left side on fire.
"Josh, help is coming. Coach said he's coming. Now you have to hold on."
"I'm not going to make it, Stan. I'm dying."
"Don't say that," Stan insisted and he found that Stan had drug himself over to where he lay on the floor on his right side, laid on his broken arm because his left was too painful even try to put pressure on.
"Help me turn over. I want to lie on my back. Have to show you something."
"Okay." But he screamed as Stan helped him roll off his broken arm.
"Better?"
"No, but yeah. Now Stan, can you do me a favor?"
"Anything, Josh, I'll do it, for you I'll do it."
"You're going to have to talk for me. Tell them my spleen is ruptured. Tell them I've been bleeding into my stomach for days now. If they wait, I'll die." He slowly raised his too big t-shirt and showed Stan his bruised left side. "But I want them to repair my spleen. Don't take it out because I need it since it helps my immune system. Tell them to repair it."
"My God, Josh, the roof whipped your ass. You're a complete bruise."
"No, not the roof." He gasped as the pain raged now.
"What are you saying?"
He pulled his shirt higher.
"Look, Stan, I never wanted anyone to know but my aunt did this to me. She kicked my ass over bad grades and fighting with you long before the roof did. She beats me up all the time." He looked away, before he said, "And I've lied about it, covered it up but she hurts me all the time. I can't sleep at her house unless I sleep under the bed."
"No way!"
"Yes, way. That's why I'm always late to soccer practice. I can't dress out or shower in front of anyone because someone will notice all the bruises. She hits me all the time, and she was mad because I'm flunking out, and that I was fighting in school again and other things too."
"She hurt you like that, beat you, because you were fighting with me? Truly, Josh, I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen to you. No one hits me. Well, except you."
"Look it's not your fault. But, I need you to tell them that she kicked me, that she beat me before we fell through the roof. I hate this. I don't want anyone to know."
"Josh, she shouldn't hit you. No one deserves to be hit."
"I don't know about that. I'm pretty bad sometimes, but since I'm dying, I'm going to take her down with me. I need you to tell them she did this to me that I told you. She hits me all the time. I need you to take her down."
"But, why didn't you tell someone? They would have made her stop. You could have told the school counselor."
"Who are they going to believe me or her? She's going to blame this on the roof, the fall, say I fell off my board but she kicked me. Look, I was bleeding before we fell. Tell them. Promise me?"
"Truly, I didn't know. And I thought you were a genius? How can you let her do that to you?"
"I can't stop her, and I'm bad a lot of the time. Maybe I deserve it?"
Stan's face looked pained. "No one deserves to be hit. I've been in lots of trouble and my parents don't hit me, and they're not even my birth parents. But they do ground me. They take my phone and my TV for weeks, but they don't hit me. Josh, they've never hit me. And your aunt shouldn't hit you either."
"Well, I can't stop her. She's bigger than me and fast. And you're a fine one to talk. You hit me."
"You always throw the first punch, and you should have called 911 on her. Have her arrested."
"Who are they going to believe? Me or the director of the county library? She'll say I fell off my board. And if they do believe me then the cops will call the state and children's protective services will split us up. Ruby's past freaked over going back in the system."
"I see her point. I've been in the system and it took years to get out. But you can't let her keep doing this to you. You have to tell."
"Ruby wants us to stay together. All she can talk about is how Mom and Dad would want us to stay together. I almost can't stand it."
"Oh course, she wants you to stay together, to be a family. She's lost her mom and dad, her life, so no way would she want to lose you too."
"Well, I can't help that. Mom and Dad are dead and they didn't have a will. They threw us to the wolves. But none of that matters, since I'm probably not going to make it, but with your help, Stan, I can still stop my aunt, and I can still save Ruby and Will too. Please, tell Ruby, I'm sorry but she has to tell them truth. And tell them both I love them. Promise me, Stan. I'm dying here. I want to stay but it's too hard."
"No, you're going to be alright. Hold on and you can tell them yourself. Coach is coming. I heard both Ms. Felicity and Coach say it. He's on his way and will be here soon."
"I don't think I can wait. I'm bleeding out and Jordan is too. I'm sorry. I've failed us all."
"No you haven't. You figured the puzzle out, and Coach is coming. I heard him say so. Just hold on a little while longer."
"Stan, promise me. I need you to push and not give up because no one wants to hear this. Make sure the state takes my sister and brother away from my aunt because what if she hits them instead of me after I'm gone?"
"You're right she could. If she hits you then she could hit them."
He started dry heaving again before he got control."And I want you to call my Uncle Chad and my Uncle Bill. Ruby has the number and if you can't get it from her then e-mail them and keep e-mailing them until they answer you back."
"Okay, I'll do it."
"They wanted us, you know? Remind them my parents would want them to raise Will and Ruby."
"You too."
"I'm not going to make it. Tell them to come for Ruby and Will." He cried out before he added, "My parents were they're friends since my dad went to work at Google, and we need help. Remind them that Will's named after Uncle Bill. I'm truly dying here. Damn it hurts."
And he screamed. Clutching his stomach, he could stop help himself, as he puked, the dry heaves making him groan, but he managed to get the e-mail address out.
"Remember it, Stan. Help me. Promise."
"I will. I'll remember. I'll do it. I promise." Stan reached and gripped his hand before he said, "Now, what can I do to help you, Josh?"
"There's nothing you can do right now. I can't stand much more of this. I'm dizzy, light headed. Look, you're going to be the only one awake when help finally gets here. You have to be brave, Stan, be forceful if you want Jordan and me to live."
"I'll do it."
"I know. I have faith in you. Tell them I need emergency surgery and a blood transfusion if I have any chance. I'm A positive. Remember, Stan tell them. I'm. . ."
He balled up and screamed out loud.
"A positive. I'll remember. What else? Josh, tell me!"
Panting now, he said, "And Jordan needs blood. Make sure they put an IV in him first thing before they dig him out. He's really dehydrated. We're all dehydrated. Tell them don't wait to type him. I don't know his blood type but get them to give him blood ASAP. He's lost a lot. It's been hours, and I don't know where he's hurt but I know he's lost too much blood, and he's going to bleed when they dig him out."
"Okay." Stan said sharply.
Laughing shortly, he said, "I never thought I'd ever want to save Jordan, since he's never liked me and neither have you. But he has to make it out of here. I promised him."
"Maybe we were wrong. Maybe we never gave you a chance. We could have been friends. I'll tell them, Josh. I promise."
"I would have liked to be your friend, Stan. I missed having friends after I moved here. It's hard to be alone."
"We could still be friends. I want to be your friend, Josh. You just have to hold on a little longer. You're a fighter. Hell, you've been whipping my ass for weeks, you know?"
Clutching his stomach, he screamed again then panted and, "You suck at fighting, Stan. And I'm trying. Tell them your leg has a compound fracture."
"Which means I can wait. You and Jordan will go first. I'll tell them. Okay, Josh? Wait stay awake. Don't go to sleep. Don't leave me alone. Josh."
And he wanted to answer Stan, to reassure him, but the darkness blissfully beckoned.
#####OQ#####
When he slipped through the 'NO TRESPASSING' and 'CONDEMNED' signs at the cannery, his eyes took in the boarded up windows and the fact the building was leaning, looking like the roof had fell in.
The place looked like a good shove could take it down, and he hated having to enter it, since he wondered if the place could collapse any second on him. Frowning, he chose instead to climb the fire escape ladder to the roof and have a look about.
The upside down skateboard was telling, as he viewed the rooftop from the ladder. But, the large gaping hole in the roof worried him about the roof's integrity.
"Josh, Stan or Jordan can you hear me?" He yelled from the ladder and got no answer. Against his better judgment, he stepped carefully out on the flat roof and yelled again. "Hello, can anyone hear me."
From far below he heard a small voice, "Coach? Coach Queen? Here, we're down here."
"Stan?" It sounded like Stan.
"Down here. We're all DOWN HERE!"
Stan's voice faint. Slowly he took another step as he heard Stan yell, "Coach Queen? I knew you'd come. We need help. We're trapped. Locked in some type of storage room. Call 911 NOW. Josh is dying, and Jordan is too. He's bleeding and still buried under the debris."
"Stan?"
"Yes, but, Coach, be careful the roof's rotten."
He pulled his phone out and called 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm at the old Cannery on Twelve Avenue. Three teens down."
"We are already in route. Please stay on the line.
Stan was still yelling, "Josh has a ruptured spleen. Tell them he needs surgery NOW, and he wants them to repair it. Don't take it out. He wants them to repair it. And he's type A positive. Tell them to hurry."
"Okay, Stan." He put it on speaker phone and tucked his phone in his back pocket.
"Please hurry, Coach, Josh is dying. And Jordan isn't far behind him."
"Stan? Give me a second and I'll get closer."
"No, wait, Coach, don't step," were the last words he heard as a large crack exploded in the air, and the entire world collapsed beneath him. He was vaguely aware that Stan was screaming as debris rained into the building, no doubt on the teens.
Freefalling, he desperately clawed the air, trying to throw himself forward, and just barely managed to grasp a passing rafter with one hand as he fell hard, slamming to a bone jarring stop that felt like he'd just dislocated his left shoulder as his body crashed to a rushing stop.
Damn, he thought, I should have brought the bow, consequences be damned. He looked down at the floor now a good twenty feet beneath him, while his shoulder and hand complained about holding all his weight. Biting back a groan and using his momentum, he swung for an instant, while the rafter he hung from creaked ominously.
By sheer will, he managed to pull his body up one handed, then he forced his other hand to clasp the board above his head. His muscles screamed loudly. Exhaling sharply, he silently gave thanks that the rest of the building hadn't collapsed, bringing the roof's rafters crushing down on top of him.
"Coach!" Stan screamed, "Are you alright? I heard the roof go again. Coach, talk to me. Are you okay? Please be okay."
"Stan, I'm okay." He managed to say as he starting pulling his body across the ceiling. It was almost like doing the money bars, moving hand over hand diagonally across the groaning rafter, using only his upper body to support his weight. Dust and other foreign bodies fell as he worked his way toward a spot where the second floor of the building still existed beneath him.
"Coach! Oh, my god! Is that you hanging from the rafters? You are! I see you. How are you going to get down?"
"Give me a minute, Stan. I'm kind of busy here." His arm muscles bulged as he hung for an instant resting, while thinking he was getting slack in maintaining his upper body strength. Maybe it was time to buy a salmon ladder, and he grinned realizing Felicity would be solidly behind that decision.
And yes, he liked it when she watched.
"Wow! You're one strong man." He heard Stan say as he slowly worked his way across the rafter. Another good twelve feet and the floor looked like it might be stable enough to drop to, but he still had to survive the ten foot fall without blowing out his ankles or knees.
Letting go of one hand, he hung for an instant by his fingertips, to make the fall as short as possible. Silently, he gave thanks that the it was a wooden floor beneath him, since the wood would give a little cushion when he hit, unlike concrete, which was not forgiving at all. However, he hoped that the floor could hold beneath his weight and not give out.
Forcing himself to relax, he exhaled and dropped catlike, bending his knees slightly to absorb the large fall as he landed on the balls of his feet. Years of practice permitted his feet to hit the ground at the same time, allowing his lower body to effectively absorb the fall's impact as he dropped into a squat. However, the force of the fall was too much to keep his feet, so he rolled head over heels before standing.
Heart pumping, he wasted no time but moved on soft feet. He realized the floor could disappear beneath him again at any moment, and he needed to move and now.
"Coach! Are you okay? It sounded like you fell."
"I'm fine, Stan. Now, I'm headed to the bottom floor to get you out. You have to help though. Can you to find something to beat on that locked door, so I can figure out which room you trapped in?"
"I can do that, Coach. But please hurry!"
Cautiously, he made his way down a rickety staircase while the sound of incoming sirens met his ears.
The bottom floor was large and filled with old equipment that no doubt had been used to can fish. Stopping, he listened and heard a tapping sound to his right. However, he knew the paramedics were locked out, and he didn't want them to leave, so first he had to figure out a way to get them into the building.
Crossing the floor he found a locked door. Again he wished for his bow and an exploding arrow, but then he realized all he had to do was turn the button on the door to unlock it, and he grinned as he thought maybe he'd been used to using high-tech arrows for too long.
"Has the ambulance arrived yet?" Came a voice from behind him.
Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he said, "Yes, the ambulance is here."
"Good. Call back if you need further assistance."
"Will do." He pocketed the phone.
"Wayne," he yelled as he saw the paramedics exiting the ambulance. "Joe, this way. Call the fire department."
"What's up?"
"Three of my team fell through the roof to the bottom floor and according to the kid that's still awake the other two are on the verge of dying. One of them is bleeding and still buried alive so tell them they need to get a move on before we get to dig out a corpse."
"Are these the missing teens?" Joe asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
"Yeah."
"I'll call it in."
"That's a long way to fall," Wayne added.
"Yeah it is, and they're in a locked room, some type of storage room from what Stan told me."
"Come on, Wayne. They're this way. I just talked to Stan from the roof. I don't know exactly where they are. But I know they're trapped. So, why don't you leave the gurney until we know what we're dealing with." And he turned and headed toward the tapping sound.
He followed the sound down a dark hall until he was forced to get his phone out and turn on his flashlight app to see. Finally, they reached the source of the sound to find a large metal door with a huge rusty padlock on it.
Knocking on the door, he ask, "Stan, can you hear me? We're here."
"I hear you, Coach. Yes, we're trapped in here. Can you get this door open?" Stan beat on the door from the other side.
"Give me minute."
"No way that's budging without some type of tool." Wayne said.
"You got a lug wrench?"
Wayne said, "On my way."
"Coach?"
"I'm here, Stan. We have to get this lock off this door. It will just be a few more minutes. We're coming."
Pulling his phone out, he sent a quick text to Felicity. "Found them. Stan 4 sure alive. Will keep you posted."
Wayne returned with the lug wrench and made short work out of the padlock but when the man pushed on the door, it didn't move.
"Here let me try. Stan, get back from the door. I'm going to kick it in."
"Okay, I'm away."
Lifting his foot up, he kicked the door and it groaned on rusty hinges but the door flung open, slamming against the wall with a crash.
Carefully, he stepped into a stinking room, and for just an instant, he had to shut his eyes as the smell of unwashed human bodies, human waste, and blood met his nose and memories from the past threatened to sweep him away, threatened to overpower him.
The teens, he told himself, help the teens.
Don't you dare flash, he thought.
Whatever you do it.
Don't you dare flash.
And he reopened his eyes and moved, intent on helping his team.
Josh lay prone on the ground, and Wayne went straight to him.
Stan was talking a mile a minute as he moved to Jordan and hunted his pulse.
Carefully, he searched for a pulse in the boy, who he noted was buried under newspapers. Smart idea, he thought, since the papers would help keep his body core from falling.
"Josh has a ruptured spleen. He needs emergency surgery. But he wants them to repair it. Don't take it out since he needs it for his immune system. He's type A positive. Jordan's legs have been bleeding since we fell in here. Josh said if we dug him out he'd bleed to death. Josh said to start his IV before you dug him out. He needs blood and now. And all I have is a compound fracture, but I can wait. Take them first."
"Just calm down, Stan. We're going to help everyone." The teen was clearly stressing.
"Coach, is Jordan still alive? He hasn't talked in a long time."
Finally, he found it. The youth's pulse was thready but still there.
"He's still alive but, Wayne, you better get a move on. He hasn't got long, and I would bet he's going to bottom out soon."
"I'll go get the gurney and guide the help in. Be right back."
Wayne jumped up and was gone.
"Coach, I need to tell you something, to show you something."
"Sure, Stan."
"Look, Coach. Josh's aunt's been abusing him. She's been beating him up. Look under his shirt, he's nothing but solid bruises. I have to make complaint to protective services. And I need to get in touch with his sister, so I can find Josh's uncles in California. He gave me a message for them."
Moving, he crouched down beside Josh's fallen form, and he lifted Josh's dirty t-shirt to find his battered chest.
The bruising was immense as he noted the boy was nothing but starving skin and bones, with bruising, in all stages of healing. His chest was clearly a canvas of yellow, green and dark purple skin.
"You're saying his aunt did this."
"He told me when he thought he was going to die. He told me he didn't fall off his skateboard. But he didn't want anyone to know she was hitting him. He told me that he's been hiding her hurting him from everyone because he didn't think anyone would believe him."
"Because of who is aunt is?"
Stan nodded.
"Okay, but, Stan, let's just keep this to ourselves right now."
"But he asked me to turn her in."
"No, let me. It would be better coming from me but trust me; I'll make sure she never hits him again. Now, not a word about this to anyone else."
Stan's eyes met his and he nodded. "Okay, but Coach? How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"I know you fell through the roof. I saw you hanging from the rafters. That ceiling had to be ten foot and you're not hurt."
"Stan, we'll talk about that later. For now just know I was looking for you. Your team was looking for all of you, and I'm glad I found you in time."
"You didn't answer the question, Coach."
"And I'm not going to. But that's a nice field splint on your leg by the way."
"Josh knew how and talked me through it. Then I splinted his arm. Josh dug himself out of the rubble using leverage and then dug me out before I suffocated. I was completely buried to begin with, even my head."
"Whose idea was the newspapers?"
"Josh knew to use them to make Jordan live longer, to keep him warm, and he taught me how to take two ancient phones and a couple of batteries and make that phone over there work well enough that we could call you for help. Josh is the only reason we're all still here. And, Coach, thanks for coming."
"Of course, I came. You're part of my team."
Wayne and Joe were back with two gurneys and a fireman was carrying a backboard.
"Stan, we're going to haul you out on a backboard and you get a ride in the fire truck. Now let's get you ready to be loaded up."
"But, I want to stay with them."
"You're the easiest one to take first. Go on, Stan. I'll stay."
Men were streaming into the room now, and he went to work helping to dig Jordan out of the rubble, while Wayne tried to get an IV in his arm.
"Damn it, he's so dehydrated he has no veins at all," Wayne complained.
"Same over here. This kid's bleeding out internally, and I can't get a line in," said Joe, who was working on Josh.
"We need to warm them up. Do you have any heat packs?" He looked at Jordan's arm.
"No."
"Well, then use gravity. Hang his arm down, then place the tourniquet and leave his arm hanging for a couple of minutes and you should be able to find a vein."
Wayne did just that to Jordan and then said, "Got it. That's what I'm talking about. IV in. I wish I had blood but the saline will help."
Josh had been moved to the gurney, and Joe said, "Me too. Thanks, Oliver. I'll have to remember that trick. Where'd you learn that?"
Again the old memories threatened, but he reached in his pocket and touched her hair tie, grounded himself to now, as he said, "I read it somewhere."
A few minutes later, Jordan left leg had been dug out, and he had a major bleed. "Pressure, put pressure," Wayne was yelling as Joe worked to control the bleeding with a large bandage as his gloved hands put pressure on the wound.
Meanwhile, they uncovered Jordan's right leg and again he was bleeding. It took a few minutes but they managed to get the bleeding under control.
"Let move," said Wayne. "Thanks all but we've got to get both of them to the hospital. Both of them need blood and now. Jordan is probably already in hypovolemic shock and his heart isn't pumping enough blood to his organs."
Standing, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Josh and Stan's phone. Turning, he took pictures of the missing roof and the room they'd been locked in.
Felicity would love this one. Then he started calling the teen's parents. And he couldn't wait to have a little talk with one, Janie Hall.
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And as always thanks for the read and please review if you have time. Reviews make me happy and I write more when I'm happy. And if you have time let me know if the rescue was believable.