Chapter 3
Danny woke up to excruciating pain. The rain was lighter now and the moon was out again. Where was he? What happened that made him feel sick to his stomach? He squinted and looked around to find his location. He saw a bench that looked familiar and an object in the street. Slowly trying to get get up, he groaned in pain as he fell back. He tried to take a deep breath, but it hurt to much. Why did it hurt to breathe? He got up, leaning on the tree for support, and made his way towards the bench. Where was he?
He was beginning to panic and he wasn't thinking clearly. Forgetting that it hurt to breathe, Danny took a deep breath to still the rising panic and to clear his head, resulting a stab of pain and a spasm of coughing. He stopped walking and he leaned forward, his hands on his knees, trying to calm his breathing. He finally gained control of it even though it still hurt, and he continued towards the object in the road. Finally reaching it, he dropped to his knees and picked it up. It was a phone. Whose phone? It was his phone, how did it get out here? He flipped it open and tried to turn it on. The screen was cracked and the keys were broken off. It was busted. He threw it back on the ground and looked around him as he got up, and went back to sit on the bench. He had to get home, he had to get back to the office. He couldn't remember what happened. Why couldn't he remember? Shivering he tried to recollect his memories, he suddenly noticed a car coming around the corner and the headlights shone in his eyes. That's when everything came flooding back to him. Ryan Wallace, the bomb, Jack yelling at him, leaving, car crash. He gasped and began to cough; bringing his hand up to his mouth, he coughed again.
Suddenly he felt something warm contact his hand. He removed his hand and grew paler than he was before. It was blood. He was coughing up blood. He had to get help fast; who knows what he'd injured. He looked around to try and find a way home, but it was too unclear. Each way looked similar. Danny began to break down in tears. He'd never get back home. He decided to pick a way to go; he'd end up somewhere in the city right? He began to walk into what he realized was a park. He'd get home at some point.
Missing 3.5 hours
Jack never thought he'd have to find one of his own. He took an enlarged photo of Danny and stuck it on the whiteboard. He can't believe he had to do that. He sighed as he set up the beginning of the time-line from when he last saw Danny at the crime scene. Martin and Sam went to go check out Danny's last calls, while Vivian kept trying Danny's home and cell phone, hoping that he would pick up. So far, nothing. Ten minutes later, Martin and Sam came walking into the squad-room with the phone records.
"Jack, Danny's last call was from you, but he never picked it up. That means his phone was on when you called him. Something must of happened to him or his phone for him no to answer." Sam said.
Jack sighed, this wasn't going anywhere. What if they never found him? He would have to live the rest of his life knowing that they last words he said to Danny were, "Don't mess with me." He felt completely guilty about that now.
"Can you get the location off that call?" he asked wearily.
Sam nodded and turned back to go to the tech room.
He knew he was going in circles, he just couldn't stop walking; his legs wouldn't let him rest. Danny was so tired, hungry, freezing and, most of all, in pain. How long has it been since he left the crime scene? He just wanted to rest.
His legs finally gave up and he collapsed in between two giant bushes. At least it would protect him from the rain. He knew he shouldn't sleep, but his eyes were heavy and he couldn't keep them open any longer. He decided that he would rest for only a second, then he would start walking again. Slowly closing his eyes, he drifted off into a deep sleep.
