Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: Nothing specific, set mid third season.
A/N: Each chapter is told from a different point of view. I owe enormous thanks to M and J who are two wonderful beta readers.
Brass had pulled the records on Daryl Marks's properties. Apart from being the owner of several vans, one of which had been at the apartment complex the night of the murders, he also owned a company called Heavenly Path. The company property was outside Vegas.
Nick and I were supposed to go there with Detective Vega, who was also investigating the case. Grissom and Brass were looking into the TNT, and possible origins. We had met him before at the scene. Local police had never had any problems with Marks, but there had been a few noise complaints in recent weeks. An officer had dropped by but everything was in order. He had not seen anything suspicious. Other than that, the company had not drawn any attention to itself, tax forms had been filed punctually and correctly. On the outside, it was a perfect facade. But from the evidence we had gathered, it seemed more like Daryl Marks had used the estate to establish a small following, a murderous following. I have to admit that made me just a little nervous. Nick looked like it made him more than just a little nervous. Detective Vega looked displeased as always. I can't help myself, just never liked the man and don't miss not having had more opportunities to work with him. Still he did deserved better.
It took us several wrong turns to reach the property of the "Heavenly Path" company. It was far enough away from all other buildings to allow cultists to carry on with whatever they were up to, without anyone snooping around. Still the area was fenced off, but the padlock on the fence was open. Detective Vega went in first. Following my training, I surveyed the area.
"Look at that tire treads. Looks like someone left in a hurry," I pointed to the disturbances in the gravel yard.
"Yeah, also, have a look at this," Nick pointed. "Looks like a blood trail. Our injured killer maybe?"
"Maybe, I'm gonna take a sample," We were in the right place. That was now clear.
We looked at Vega for instructions. He could have called it off there, called in reinforcements, but he didn't. Instead, he carefully made his way to the entrance.
"Las Vegas Police, open up, we have a warrant to search the premises,"
There was no sound from the inside. Vega banged against the wooden door. No answer again. He drew his gun, Nick and I did the same. Vega tested the door, it was open. He went inside, the two of us following. Situations like this always cause me to tense up, no matter how often I have done this. I figure it's a bit like gambling, just with higher stakes. I've always been one for the quick rush.
On the inside, the barn was far better maintained than one would have expected when seeing the depilated exterior. The front door led into a corridor with doors leading off on both sides. The walls were decorated with large black and white photographs. I took a closer look. All featured the same man, over several decades, in various poses. He was always wearing simple white clothing, smiling into the camera. Vegas was edging forward, again announcing our intentions and asking anyone present to come forward. As the rules required, Nick and I stayed behind waiting for him to clear the building. That was a mistake. It might have been what the book said, but it was the wrong thing to do. It got Vega killed. But nobody can change that now. What had happened -happened. Vega had cleared all rooms to the sides and proceeded to the last room, lying straight ahead from the front entrance. He had disappeared from my field of vision, when there was the sudden sound of a gun being fired followed by a scream coming from Vega.
It was immediately clear what had happened. The implication was that we were not alone and that who ever was there did not want us in there. I didn't think, but acted on instinct. Instinct told me to get the hell away from there. Not wanting to alert the shooter to our presence I made hand signs to Nick, signaling that we should leave. Nick seemed to have frozen up after hearing the shot and Vega's scream. I just ran over and grabbed his arm, still trying not to make any noise, but the old creaking hardwood floor made that impossible. A shot was fired in our direction hitting nothing. My head spun around without my brain giving the command. The man from the pictures was standing in the door, a gun trained on Nick and me. The lighting was to our advantage now. We were standing in the dimly lit corridor whereas he was coming from a well lit room. I guess the only reason that he didn't hit either of us on his first shot was that his eyes had to adjust to the lighting first. I'm not sure who exactly fired next. I fired my gun several times and so did Nick. One of us hit the man, who would later turn out to be Daryl Marks, leader of the Heavenly Path cult. Daryl Marks cried out in pain, as his white robes were becoming stained with crimson. He fell down to his knees, but continued to fire at us. I think it was then that Nick was hit. Like in slow motion, I saw him fall over, coming down on his side. I fired somewhere in Marks's general direction, or that is what I intended to do, but my gun merely clicked impotently, I was out of ammo. Now, I was trapped between the urge to help Nick and the instinct to flee and save at least my life. Marks had registered that I was no longer a threat to him. In spite of his injury he was still moving, he was moving toward me. I saw him and couldn't move. The feeling of utter impotency in the face of disaster was among the worst things I have ever felt. And there was a lot of that stuff.
"You cannot destroy us. They will always be loyal to me," He laughed a sick laugh. Words were etched into my memory. I can still remember as if it was yesterday that Daryl Marks stood over me with his gun in hand.
"Look at you, forgotten by your God. He isn't there for you. We have the true strength. You and all the vermin will perish in death. But we, we will transcend death. Today is the day of our transition, a day that the world will not forget. The fires will rage and burn the sinners. Too bad you will be there for it. The fire would have redeemed you all,"
Alarm bells went off in my head, if that was even possible. Somehow, I managed to break out of my frozen state and reach for Nick's gun, which was lying about two feet from me. I got to it and pressed the trigger, aiming at Marks at about the same time he pressed the trigger. The pain is all I remember about actually getting shot. Then I must have blacked out. When I came to again, Marks was gone.
When I was down on the floor, it was extremely strange, not at all the way I would have envisioned that, not that I ever really did. It was surreal at best, I was lying on my back, knowing that I had just been shot, but my mind refused to immediately acknowledge this at first. I wondered why I was hurting so much and why I couldn't get up, why I couldn't really breathe. From the corner of my eye I saw blood, blood in a growing pool. I remember asking myself, who was bleeding that badly. My mind finally came up to speed when I turned my head to the other side and saw Nick sprawled on the floor as well, bleeding from his back. I couldn't see his face from my position, so I had no way of knowing whether or not he was conscious.
"Nick?"
No answer.
"Nick," I called out not sure whether my voice got up to an audible volume.
He didn't respond. That's the moment when I knew it all. We had been ambushed, Vega had been killed, and then the guy had come for us, first hitting Nick then me. Had he killed Nick? I couldn't allow myself to ponder that right now. An ambulance, I reached for my cell phone at my belt. The movement caused me excruciating pain, but the thought of my life and Nick's life at stake outweighed it by far. I finally got a grip on the phone and managed to bring it up to my face again. In retrospect it seems like it took me hours, but in reality it can only have taken a minute at the most. I called 911, knowing that this was faster than calling Grissom. The operator told me to hang on and leave the phone turned on. Then I was one with my thoughts. I thought of the strangest things then. Of course, I was thinking about whether the ambulance would get to us in time, whether Nick was dead or just unconscious, I thought that I might never see my daughter again. But I also thought that it was a shame that I had been wearing this particular blouse, since I had always liked it and now it had a bullet hole in it and blood stains all over it. It had been expensive as hell, too. When I think about it now, it seems crazy how I could think about my clothes at that time, but I think my mind was just trying to distract me to keep me calm and keep me from thinking about dying and leaving my daughter behind.
The time I spent lying on the floor in that barn seemed like hours, but later I learned that it had been less than twenty minutes until the ambulance had arrived. I could not have lasted much longer. That last thing I remember is hearing sirens in the distance.
Could we have done differently? Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe Vega's life could have been saved. But we cannot go back and change it, so I don't dwell on it. It sounds cruel I know. But doing that eats you up. There is always a present to focus on and make it better than the past.
tbc