Author's Note: Alas, the characters still don't belong to me. Everything else belongs to me though, so I guess that balances out. Thanks for all your reviews. And on a personal note, this chapter is dedicated to my mom, who is hooked on the story and tells me how much she likes it. She's been my biggest fan from the beginning, so here you go Mom – hope you enjoy!
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Children
The life blood of the world, the innocence in a society of corruption, the future of humanity. Children are the unbiased, the non-judgmental, and the honest. Unlike adults, children don't try to complicate matters. Children treat every day like it's a dream come true.
The dream was over for these children. As the CSI's started examining the scene, each was reflecting on the horror of this crime. They were overwhelmed by emotions, ranging from heartache (Catherine) to rage (Warrick). It affected them differently, yet very much the same. They all felt a sense of outrage that these innocent lives had been torn from their bodies. They felt disturbed that someone would place the bodies in such a ritualistic manner. They felt sorrow for the loss of youth.
But a crime scene is not the place to allow your emotions to guide your actions. They had a job to do, and set about doing it. Grissom and Sara began examining the bones more closely, Catherine was photographing the scene and Warrick and Nick explored the surrounding area.
"You find anything?" Warrick called to Nick after searching for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes.
"Yeah, dirt" came the reply.
"Very funny" muttered Warrick as he continued to examine the ground. There was nothing. Any physical evidence had either blown away with the changing winds or was buried beneath layers of dirt. It was like trying to find a needle in the proverbial haystack, except this haystack stretched across miles of desert.
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As Warrick and Nick tried to make sense out of the dirt, Catherine continued to photograph the victims. With each snap of the lens she felt more like a voyeur. This crime scene felt intensely private and photographing it seemed wrong somehow. It was like taking pictures in Church – you're not supposed to. You should just be observing what is in front of you. But crimes scenes are not cathedrals and the only crucifix here was the very unholy one that the remains of the victims formed. Catherine continued to photograph the evidence, all the while thinking about Lindsey. She said a silent prayer of thanks that her daughter was safely in school right now. How unbearable it must be she thought, for the parents of these children. They were trapped in every parent's nightmare of not knowing where their children were. Somewhere, there had to be parents praying for the safe return of their children. And with the discovery of the crime scene, all those hopes were dashed.
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"I've got nothing!" Sara leaned back and grasped her head in frustration. "I can't find anything that will give us an idea of what happened. We've got no marks on the bones, no skin samples, not even the presence of any insects! What are we going to do?"
Grissom looked at her. It wasn't unusual for Sara to feel passionately about a case but right now she seemed hopeless. She looked like she was ready to throw down her gloves, walk away and never look back. Grissom tried to find words that would give her back the hope that she had lost when she walked into the crimes scene.
"Sara, just because we can't find anything doesn't mean that there is nothing to be found. We may not be able to see thing with the naked eye, but we're scientists – we have magnifying eyes that can see for us."
She smiled weakly at him. "Bring this stuff back to the lab?"
He smiled back, glad to see that a bit of the fire had returned to her eyes. "As soon as Catherine is photographing we can gather up our evidence."
Catherine overheard and responded. "I'm done. And I think Warrick and Nick are too. Anything we need to know is on those bodies. It sure isn't here."
The team watched as the bones were carefully gathered. They had already gotten samples of the blood. The only thing that remained was for them to leave. Yet none of them moved. They were frozen in place, unable to tear themselves away. They felt an odd compulsion to stay, to pay last respects to the innocent. The ground they now stood on was tainted. Not by the blood which would fade with time, but by something much more than that. The ground was tainted with evil, which spread across everything that the sun touched. The evil could not be erased. The evil could not be contained.
The evil could not be stopped.