Impact

Chapter 6

"Okay," Grissom says, as they pull out of the crime lab parking lot. "I just talked to Nick, and he said they've driven up and down 95, and haven't caught sight of anything."

"Then why are we going there?" Catherine asks.

"Fresh eyes."

Greg sits in the back seat of the car, looking anxious. "Sara and Warrick went missing in the middle of the night," he reminds them. "So while it might make sense that they weren't found right after they ran into trouble, it's broad daylight now. Shouldn't they be visible from the road?"

"Not if they got off 95," says Grissom, glancing at Greg in the rear-view mirror.

"There's no way they could get lost coming back," Catherine says. "95 is a straight shot back to Vegas, and Warrick grew up here. It's not exactly rocket science."

"No, it isn't," Grissom agrees, "but I'm not saying they got lost. What would have caused them to pull off the main road?"

The car is silent for a moment, as the three of them ponder the possibilities.

"Running low on gas?" Greg suggests.

"Possibly. But there are gas stations just off the highway."

"Another driver giving them trouble?" Catherine says.

"I don't think so," Grissom says, shaking his head. "They would have called for help if that happened. I think, if they got side-tracked, it would have been because of the case."

"What about the case would make them get off the road?" Greg asks.

"That's what we need to find out. Maybe we should split up, and some of us can look at the evidence-"

"We can't," Catherine reminds Grissom. "Everything's in their car."

Grissom nods, pulling onto Route 95. Then, suddenly, he smiles. "Not everything."

o-o-o-o-o

There's an annoying buzzing sound in my ear. It comes in waves, and the more I listen, the more I can almost make out a pattern.

"Sara? Sara?"

I moan softly, and the sound changes intensity.

"Sara, can you hear me?"

Sounds like a man's voice.

"Sara, blink if you can hear me!"

He has no idea what it would take to blink right now. But I try anyway, fluttering my eyelids a little.

"Good," the voice praises. "Good, Sara. Can you try opening your eyes for me?"

I crack a lid slowly, and Warrick's worried face comes into view. "Hey," he says softly. "How're you feeling?"

"Um. Where are we?" I don't want to tell him how difficult it is to breathe right now, or how my entire leg is numb.

"Not sure," he replies, his head still against the dashboard. "Every time I try to look around, I get a pounding headache."

"Mm. Phone?"

"I don't see either of them. they must have gotten lost somewhere in the crash."

"Yeah." It comes to me with startling, blinding clarity. "We're going to die here, Warrick."

"Don't say that," he replies sharply. "I'm sure they're looking for us right now."

"Look at the shadows. It's past noon."

"They're looking," he repeats, his expression growing panicked. "Don't give up now. They'll be here any second, I'm sure of it."

He's probably thinking about his wife right now, and the future they won't have together. Just like I'm thinking of Grissom and the future we won't have.

"I need you to do me a favor," I say slowly, trying to focus my eyes on Warrick. "In case they find you in time. I need you to tell Grissom-"

"No," he cuts me off, his voice sounding thick and tight. "Don't do this, Sara. Don't."

"Please. Please, Warrick."

"No," he says again, choking on tears. "They'll be here. Any second."

o-o-o-o-o

"David," Greg says urgently into the phone, holding it over the center console as Grissom speeds down the highway. "Have you done the autopsy on that DB from the desert yet?"

"Yeah, finished several hours ago." David's voice comes through the speakerphone, sounding vaguely tinny. "What's up?"

"Did you notice anything unusual?" Grissom calls. "Anything that might have piqued Sara and Warrick's interest?"

"Other than the needles?"

Catherine and Grissom glance at each other, then ask in unison, "What needles?"

"The underside of the body was covered with evergreen needles. Most were embedded in the victim's clothing and skin, suggesting that he had been dragged, possibly through a forest."

"What kind of evergreen was it?" Greg asks.

"Multiple kinds. I sent samples up to Frank, and he told me he found several varieties of spruce, fir, and pine."

Grissom stares at something down the road. "David, any chance the needles were brown?"

There's a brief pause before David speaks. "They were all brown and yellow, yes. How did you-"

"Look," Grissom interrupts, pointing to a sign on their right. Greg nods quickly, while Catherine grabs the phone.

"Thanks for your help, David. We'll call you later."

Holding his breath, Grissom turns at the next exit, following the sign for the closed Christmas tree lot.