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.
I didn't allow myself to dwell on what had happened just before. It was pointless, there was nothing Sara or I could have done to save Greg's life. But still, I felt bad afterwards for just coldly moving on. My focus was getting out of there alive and preventing any further loss of life.
Outside in the waiting room, I could hear the cultists talk. Even though they were talking softly, I could make out most of what they were saying.
Someone was crying outside, a woman. At first I though it was one of the hospital employees, but the context of the following conversation made it clear that she was one of the cultists. From her voice, I could tell that she wasn't the girl we had seen earlier.
A male voice was trying to calm her down.
"Shh, don't cry, you just have to have faith. He would never abandon us. He'll lead us to the new world,"
"I...I know. I believe. He looks so weak, the doctor said he ...That cannot be," Her words were punctuated by sobs.
"The doctors don't understand us. They are weakened by their sins. He is strong and cannot be stopped by the impure. He will rise and join us. You know that. You were chosen, you mustn't doubt that now,"
"I will never doubt him,"
"Then you have nothing to fear. Come on, we must let the others know,"
I was beginning to see the scope of the cultists' delusions and that told me that the situation had reached an impasse. Daryl Marks was in no shape to be leaving the hospital, and his followers would never deviate from their plan. They genuinely believed that this was the day of their transition. They had mentioned a new world. That indicated that they were probably planning to kill themselves. But they couldn't do it alone. They were like lost children without Daryl's input. They were ready to die today. The police was probably already all over the building, the HRT moving into position. There was no way out for Daryl' followers. The only person who would be able to maybe persuade them to surrender was Daryl himself. But even if he were willing, there was no way I could get to him. There was indeed nothing I could do right now. I sat down on the desk not sure what to do next, except wait. But I didn't even know what I was waiting for, except waiting for it to end in a bloodbath. Sara was sitting on the floor, blood all over her shirt and hands. She looked far away -totally unaware of the situation. Seeing Greg die right in front of her must have shocked her, my mind presented me with an analysis. It was then that the young woman came in the room again. Before, I had still been mentally dazed by the shock from the events, so I had not paid as much attention to her as I should have, another mistake, but a crucial one. I don't know… it's very difficult to find that out in retrospect. Sometimes, I'm inclined to agree with Catherine. No use dwelling on the past. But my mind doesn't agree.
The woman was young, younger than twenty, probably. She was one of the followers, dressed in a simple, old fashioned dress, wearing straw bound sandals. It then occurred to me then that we didn't even know how may of theme were there. There were the four men, which had stormed to office, killed Greg and Dr. Hellman, taken our phones and weapons. I had also seen a middle aged woman, in the waiting area with a gun. So the five of them plus the girl made at least six followers. None of them seemed injured, so there might be another one, the person who had killed Gwen Delaney.
The girl just looked at us. Her facial expression was puzzling, no hatred, no fear, just a resigned smile on her face. I forced myself to analyze the change in situation. By the way she was holding the gun I could tell that she had no practice with firearms, something which went to our advantage. However, given the size of the room, even with a poor aim she could still lethally wound Sara or me. But they wouldn't kill us just yet, only when they realized that there was no way out they would kill us. For now, having hostages gave them an advantage in the bargaining process. I wasn't quite sure how clearly they were thinking in assessing their situation and to which degree their judgment was clouded by indoctrination.
"Mr. Grissom?" the girl asked, more than stated. Her voice was much younger than her appearance. She might even be as young as sixteen it occurred to me.
"That's me," I said.
"The police want to know that you are still alive," she said and reached with her free hand into the pocket of her dress. She pulled out a cell phone. It was my own phone, which they had taken when they had stormed the office.
tbc