Sand, dust and forest detritus whipped around the wreckage in the low wind.
The minivan had come to rest on its side, leaving Sara, Greg and Grissom pinned against the ground with only sheets of broken glass between them and the cold, damp earth. The bottom of the bus was rammed against a tree, the only thing that had managed to stop their descent. Smoke billowed out of the engine and all four tyres were ruptured, not that they would be driving it anywhere now.
"Damn." Warrick wheezed, clutching his chest. "What the hell was that?"
"Is everyone alright?" Nick asked urgently, attempting to look over his shoulder at Catherine and Sara and feeling a shot of pain run between his shoulder blades for his trouble.
Grissom, too, was trying to turn around in his seat, but was restricted by the seatbelt.
"Are the girls alright?" He almost pleaded, unable to see them from his position and alarmed by the lack of noise coming from the back of the bus.
"Sara's bleeding." Greg noted.
The brunette didn't respond to the remark, too dazed to be fully aware of the situation. Catherine slid a hand under her head, attempting to get a better look at the injury, but in the shadow of the trees it was impossible to tell how serious it was.
"She's not the only one." Warrick pointed out, gesturing to the side of Greg's face which had a shard of glass embedded in it.
"Hey, does anybody else smell that?" Nick asked, concern lacing his southern drawl.
"Gasoline." Grissom said seriously. "We need to get out of here."
"I'm on it." Warrick agreed.
Managing to support his weight against the seatback, he was able to pop the broken window beside him out of its frame and slithered up onto the side of the vehicle, which was now acting as the roof.
Nick, reasonably in one piece despite his whiplash, braced himself between his seat and the one in front and offered a hand to Catherine, who accepted it with her own trembling one. Greg, injured but so far handling the pain, took her other hand and between them they hoisted her up, where Warrick took her weight and pulled her out.
"Come on Sara, you next." Nick instructed. Still a little disoriented, she climbed out from her seat using Greg's help and allowed them to extricate her from the wreckage as well, where she and Catherine carefully assisted each other down onto the grass.
Grissom followed, then Greg, with Warrick finally pulling Nick out last.
Safely situated on solid ground, the team surveyed their broken transport for a moment.
"Ecklie's going to kill us." Greg mused, rubbing his temple tenderly.
Suddenly remembering the young man's injury, Nick peeled off his shirt and pressed it to the side of Greg's head. Warrick and Catherine, meanwhile, were busy holding Sara up between them, while she attempted to re-gather her bearings.
"What happened?" She mumbled.
"Alright," Grissom announced, trying to exude some sense of control over the situation. "Does anyone have phone signal?"
They all extracted their phones from their pockets and held them up, before shaking their heads in collective despondency.
"If we can get back up to the road, we could try to flag someone down." Catherine suggested, keeping one close eye on Sara. The brunette had now sat down and was propping her head up, her eyes closed to the pain she was obviously suffering.
"It's going to get dark real soon," Nick pointed out. "And we are in coyote territory."
"I think we passed a guest house a couple of miles back." Grissom said, zipping up his jacket and turning the collar up to protect his neck from the cold that was creeping in. "We can go there for the night and regroup in the morning."
The rest of the team looked somewhat unconvinced by the plan, but since they had no better suggestions, they shrugged in agreement.
"I'll get the bags." Warrick offered, walking round to the back of the van. Since it was on its side, the handle was too high up to reach, but the crash had caused part of the door to come away from its frame.
With Nick's help, he was able to prise it open, causing their bags to tumble out at their feet.
Loaded up, they set about carefully clambering their way back up to the road, with Warrick supporting Sara and Nick backing up a limping Greg.
Bringing up the rear, Catherine turned to Grissom.
"I look forward to hearing how you're going to explain this to Ecklie."
x X x
"You know what," Nick said meekly, staring up at the dilapidated building. "I think I'd rather just wait in the bus."
Between the dark grey stone walls, the ivy creeping out of every available crack and the cobwebs hanging off the doorframe, it looked more like something you'd expect to find in a New England-based horror movie, as opposed to stuck in the middle of the Nevada forest.
"We need somewhere to stay for the night." Grissom insisted, pressing the bell repeatedly. "And the sign says there are vacancies."
"I can't begin to imagine why." Catherine stated drolly. The cold had set in on the walk over and she was now shivering inside Warrick's jacket.
Before Gil could call her out for her unwanted sarcasm, the heavy wooden door creaked open and two eyes peered out at them suspiciously.
"We're closed." A husky voice rasped.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but our van crashed." Grissom explained through the gap. "And your sign says there are vacancies here."
"That sign's broken." The voice snapped. They all looked at the large piece of cardboard propped up inside the dirty window with the word haphazardly painted across it.
"It's a hand-written sign." Gil stated the obvious.
There was a moment of deathly silence, before the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman with a stern face and cold grey eyes. Her hair, once jet black and now more-than speckled with a touch of silver, fell in messy strands around her face. She was clad only in a bathrobe that looked like it got cleaned about as often as the windows.
"I suppose you'd better come in." She sighed.
It was almost as dark inside as it was outside, with only a dim lamp casting shadows up the high lobby walls.
The huddled team shuffled inside en-mass, letting Grissom lead the way.
"It'll only be for one night." He promised, taking out his credit card.
"Cash only. Pay when you leave." The woman said, not even looking at him as she started heading for the stairs. Dumbly, he put his wallet back into his pocket and followed the embittered homeowner.
"That's assuming anyone actually leaves this place alive." Sara commented slyly to Greg, who's lips turned up into a grin despite the unsettling feelings making themselves at home in his stomach.
The staircase creaked beneath their feet, the only sound in the whole building. Unnerved by the silence that almost seemed to be echoing around them, Catherine cleared her throat and attempted to make some conversation.
"So, when was this place built?" She asked, being cautious not to trip on the uneven steps.
"My family built this house." The woman said, deliberately failing to actually answer the question.
"You get a lot of customers way out here?" Warrick frowned as the dust from the banister wrapped itself around his fingers.
"Enough." She crooned, casting a small, sinister smile over her shoulder at him. "Drifters mainly. A few breakdowns, like yourselves."
She stopped abruptly outside a thick wooden door, the first of several on the hallway which appeared in the darkness to stretch into oblivion. Rummaging in the seemingly bottomless pocket of her robe, she finally produced a dusty brass key, which she slotted into the lock and nudged the door open with surprisingly little force.
"Okay, I guess we'll pair up?" Grissom said, turning towards his team. "Girls, why don't you take this room?"
Cath raised an eyebrow at the shadowy space beyond the door, but gently took Sara's arm and guided her inside non-the-less.
"I should mention," the woman said in an unexpectedly cheery voice. "There are a few house rules – we lock up at 11. I'd recommend locking the bedroom doors too. And stay in your rooms, no matter what you think you hear." She paused, sensing the alarmed looks that she was receiving, and shot them a wide grin. "Way out here, you never know what's outside."
If her final comment was supposed to be a joke, or somehow intended to sooth their fears, it didn't work.
"Okay." Catherine smiled tightly, staring straight at Grissom. "I guess we'll see you guys in the morning?"
It was an optimistic statement, more than a fact. She hoped they would see them in the morning. Frankly, she hoped they would survive until the morning.
Warrick leant into the room to put Sara's bag down and accepted his jacket back off Catherine, before straightening up and following the rest of the guys down the hall.
"I'm sleeping with one eye open tonight." He murmured to them as a parting comment.
Once he was out of sight, Catherine let the door swing closed and slipped the key into the lock.
"Well." She exhaled, turning to face Sara.
The brunette was stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, as if she were anticipating an imminent attack. Then again, perhaps she was.
In the dim light from the unshaded bulb hanging above them, Cath could finally get a better look at her friend's injuries. Taking a step towards her, she tried to ignore the fact that Sara visibly flinched.
"Take your clothes off, honey." She instructed softly, moving past Sara towards the small en-suite bathroom.
"What?" Sara blinked, certain she must have misheard.
"You're bleeding." Cath explained, returning with a small bowl she had located and filled with warm water. "You're going to get an infection if we don't clean your wounds."
Sara stared at the bowl for a long few seconds, apparently trying to come up with an excuse, any excuse, not to play along with this arrangement.
Evidently coming up empty, she sank sadly onto the end of the bed and began delicately trying to extricate herself from her bloodstained clothes.
"I knew this trip was a bad idea." She muttered, as Catherine appeared by her side to assist.
"Oh sweetheart," Cath sing-songed lightly. "I think the fun's only just getting started tonight. Besides, you and I still have something to talk about..."