Journey Through the Past- Chapter 20
Dr. Ken Jones looked up from his paperwork in surprise as his cousin charged into his office. Jones put down his pen and slipped off his glasses.
"Lucas, what brings you to my office this time of night? Grissom's treatment not going as planned?" Jones asked Mallory quietly.
"Kenny, Grissom has escaped. I've got Lopez and Baker looking for him, but you've got to help me find him!"
"You've got to be kidding. Your two men couldn't keep him under control? The man is injured, weak, and almost twice the age of your guys. He's probably delusional and disoriented. How did you let him escape?" Jones asked.
Mallory raked his hands through his hair as he paced around his cousin's office. "I don't know. Things were going so well. I gave him his hypnotic and I guess I pushed him too far. He totally surprised us. "
"Well, this is just great, Lucas. How soon before he is supposed to get his next dose of your PCP concoction?" sighed Jones.
"He was due right then. He started getting a little agitated. I think mainly from the information I was feeding him. I guess he saw the needle, and he went totally ballistic."
"So he didn't get that second injection?"
"Uhh..no, he didn't."
Jones sat back in his chair and looked up at his obsessed cousin. "Well, there is one thing in your favor, Lucas. He'll going to need medical attention because the withdrawal will get severe. He couldn't have gone far. He's probably writhing around in the desert somewhere having seizures. We're miles from the nearest town, and he'd never make it to the main road in his condition. Just relax."
Jones checked his watch. "It'll be light in about eight hours. It doesn't make sense for your guys to be stumbling around in the dark. Have them get some rest, and I'll get one or two of the orderlies to keep a patrol out on the grounds. As soon as day breaks, have your guys look for him. He couldn't have gone far. There's nowhere out there really for him to hide."
"Ummm…there is one thing you should know, Kenny," Mallory said hoarsely. "Grissom was able to take Lopez's weapon. Uhh…that's how he was able to escape."
"You mean he's armed?"
Chewing nervously on his lip, Mallory nodded yes. Jones rolled his eyes at his cousin.
"Well, this is just great, Lucas. Your men are so incompetent that they let him escape. What did they do? Hand him a weapon just to prove their incompetence?" seethed Jones. Shaking his head, this little bit of information put a slightly different spin on the situation. Instead of finding a helpless sick man out in the desert, now they had to contend with someone who could be hallucinating and possibly trying to shoot his enemies, real or imagined.
"Then I'm not risking any of my staff trying to find Grissom. Instead of Lopez and Baker cooling their jets in bed, they'd better be searching the perimeter and the desert surrounding the clinic instead of waiting until daylight. In fact, I'm going to lockdown the clinic. There'll be no movement outside the buildings and every building will be secured. Hopefully, your men will find him before his escape disrupts the routine of this clinic."
Jones stood up and pulled on a jacket. "Let's get going. The sooner we find him, the better."
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Grissom woke up with a start. Opening his eyes, he tried to focus them on the young man kneeling near his feet. Scott had removed the bloody socks and was now gently washing Grissom's torn up feet. Though the water felt soothing on his lacerated soles, his feet felt as though they were on fire. Grissom jerked his foot when the young man pulled a ½ inch thorn from his heel. Startled at the reaction, Scott looked up to see Grissom staring at him.
Scott regarded his father for a moment, cocked his head at his father, and then nodded at Grissom's feet, indicating that he needed to finish the task at hand. Sighing, Grissom nodded and tried to relax.
While Scott continued to dress and bandage his feet, Grissom took stock of his surroundings. It appeared that this mine was a place that Scott regularly visited. Grissom was lying on an inflated air mattress that was pushed up against one side of the mine wall. He was propped up by a folded blanket that had been placed behind his upper back and shoulders. The mine was dimly lit by a single battery-powered lamp which was set near Grissom's legs so that Scott could see what he was doing. On one side of the mattress was a cardboard box filled with dry goods. Two coolers had been set on the right side of the air mattress. Lined up neatly on a towel covering one of the coolers were a dozen or so filled syringes.
Grissom did a double-take. Glancing quickly at Scott and then down at his arms, Grissom realized that he had just recently been given an injection. The tell-tale sign of a recently given shot was evident on the inside part of his left arm. Anger and resentment suddenly filled him, and Grissom pulled his feet away from Scott.
Startled the young man looked up in surprise. Scott followed Grissom gaze from the syringes to the needle mark in his left arm, then back to the syringes.
"Did you inject me with whatever was in those syringes?" Grissom asked angrily, looking at Scott.
Scott eyed the man before him coolly. He nodded his head slowly and then gestured with his hands that he had only given Grissom a partial dose. Crawling over to the cooler, Scott deliberately lifted the first syringe and held it up so that Grissom could see that it was only partially empty.
Realization dawned on Grissom. He held his hands up before his face and found that there was only a slight trembling present. He lowered his hands and stared towards the entrance. The pneumatic pounding in his head had lessened to a slight throbbing, and now that he thought about it, he felt hungry. The nausea seemed to have disappeared.
Looking back at Scott, Grissom said in a low voice, "You gave me only enough in the syringe to stop the withdrawal symptoms. Was I pretty bad off?"
Again, Scott nodded yes. It had only been a little more than an hour since he had literally carried Grissom up into the mine entrance. His father had been barely conscious and was hallucinating, convulsing, and suffering from the chills. When Scott had finally been able to pulled Grissom through, he had collapsed next to his father, taking in large gulps of air to catch his breath. Grissom's condition continued to deteriorate as the tremors increased. His father had broken out in a cold sweat and lay on his side with his arms wrapped around himself, rocking from side to side. Reaching into the deep pocket of his orderly's uniform, Scott had quickly pulled out the syringes he had stolen from Mallory's lab. Finding the syringe that had been labeled for Grissom's next injection, the young man grabbed Grissom's arm.
Grissom's convulsions had made it difficult for Scott to administer the injection. He had to be careful not to break the needle in his father's shaking arm while at the same time giving him only enough of the "meds" to relieve the symptoms. Scott practically sat on top of the thrashing man in order to give him the injection. It didn't take long for the symptoms to subside, and as soon as they did, Scott half dragged and half carried the unconscious man onto the air mattress that lay against the mine wall. The young man quickly laid out the rest of the syringes and tried to make his father as comfortable as possible. Checking his wristwatch, Scott realized that he needed to get back to the clinic fairly soon. Sara was due her next treatment within the next couple of hours, and he had to get to her before Mallory arrived. Needing to take care of some of Grissom's medical needs, Scott hoped that the man would wake before he left so that he could let him know to stay put.
Scott put the syringe back on the cooler next to its mates. Facing Grissom, Scott quickly glanced at Grissom, then back to the injured man's feet, and then back to Grissom. Grissom nodded his assent and slowly stretched his feet out once more. The older man observed how meticulously his son dressed his wounds. Scott bandaged both feet and then reached into a knapsack that apparently contained extra clothing. Pulling a pair of white crew socks from the pack, he pulled them onto his father's feet.
Scott stood up. Grissom had been saying something to him, but he was lost in thought. He needed to get back to the clinic soon and get to Sara before Mallory made his appointed stop. Scott gazed back down at his father and gave him a questioning look.
Grissom gestured with his hands and spoke, "Can you hear? Can you speak?"
Scott shrugged his shoulders and gestured,A little on both counts.
"How long…." Grissom started to ask.
His son quickly stopped him. I have to go back to the clinic. Don't have time to talk. Sara.
Grissom simply stared at his son. Sara was at the clinic? She wasn't a hallucination? She was there in the infirmary.
"Sara? You know who Sara is? How…how do you…? How is she?"
Scott held up his hands to stop Grissom. He didn't have time to explain everything.
Mallory has been treating her too. Too much to explain right now. They'll be missing me.
Confused, Grissom furrowed his eyebrows and tried to make sense of what Scott had just told him. Sara is addicted like me? Was I responsible for that too? I should remember…I need to remember…
Scott quickly reached into the knapsack and pulled out a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and another pair of socks. Changing quickly out of his orderly's uniform, Scott stood up before his father.
He gestured to Grissom. Stay here. I'll be back soon. I won't be gone long. There's food in the box next to the coolers and in the other cooler. You should get something to eat. Okay?
Scott regarded the man propped up against the wall a moment more and then added, hesitantly, You should give yourself the rest of that first injection when your symptoms start to return. Don't wait for them to get bad. Give it to yourself if I don't get back before then, okay?"
Grissom looked at the row of neatly lined syringes with distaste and nodded reluctantly. "Okay. You be careful."
Giving the man on the air mattress a curt nod, Scott turned to the entrance and made his way out, carefully replacing the brush to disguise the entrance of the mine.
Grissom watched his son leave. Sighing, he turned his attention to box that Scott had indicated, the rumbling in his stomach reminding him that he should eat. Sliding off the air mattress, Grissom slowly stood up and swayed slightly as he waited for the dizziness to pass. Wincing at the pain shooting through his feet, Grissom hobbled the few steps to the box and explored its contents. Selecting a granola bar and a bottle of water, he hobbled back to the air mattress and sat heavily down.
As he ate, questions flooded through him, making him more confused than ever. Grissom remembered bits and pieces of his life in Vegas. What puzzled him was that he could not relate this life of addiction to what he could remember. The evidence indicated that what Mallory had told him was the truth. Rachel and Scott had survived the explosion. She had started a new life here with their son without him and had never let him know where she was. Mallory admitted that he had arranged for the explosion and the bodies to be found in the car because Rachel had begged Mallory to protect her from him. Rachel had begun a new life with Jones, that evidence plain as day on her tombstone.
Scott's actions puzzled Grissom even more. Though he was grateful for the young man's help and medical attention, Grissom wasn't sure why Scott would want to help him. Why didn't he just turn Grissom back over to Mallory? His son had no reason to help him. In fact, Scott had reasons quite the opposite. Unless…unless Scott wanted revenge for his father's past wrongs concerning him and his mother. The senior CSI contemplated what he knew of the evidence and pondered the enigma of his own son.
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Sara was slowly coming out of the drug-induced haze. Her thoughts were a bit foggy as she tried to get her bearings. She remembered very little except that Mallory had injected her with something that sent her whole world spinning. There was a time in Sara Sidle's life where she had drowned her sorrows and anger in alcohol, but Gil Grissom had rescued her from that tailspin. Since then, she had learned that she very much liked to be in control. He had taught her that. The feeling of emerging from a chemically induced trip wrapped itself around Sara. Feeling a bit hung over, she wished for the headache to subside.
With deliberate slowness, Sara brought herself up to a sitting position so that she could keep the dizziness at bay. She took stock of herself, and besides the slight headache, Sara appeared to have no injuries. She was still feeling the residual effects of the drugs Mallory had forced into her. She sighed, mulling over what Mallory had related to her, that she would be instrumental in Grissom's destruction. Drugging her was apparently part of the plan.
The jingle of keys from the other side of the cell door snapped Sara out of her reverie. She tensed up as she watched the door start to swing open.
A/N: Another chapter is in. Thanks for the reviews some of you have left. That has really encouraged me. I doubt that I will be able to post again before Christmas Day….but you never know. Hope that all of you have a wonder Christmas season. Please review and I will see about posting by Christmas day. Thanks again for reading!