Mount Up

"He's near Lake Mead, all right," Brass said, holding up a piece of paper with the location on it. "He's near a rental property owned by one Lorna Gibson."

Catherine and Sara looked at each other, then Grissom.

"I guess we know why Crane paid her," Gil said. "How close are our people there?"

"Ten minutes away from the house," Brass said. "There are two cars, and more as soon as they can get there."

They started heading for the parking lot, with the rest of the team in tow.

"Warn everyone that Nigel Crane is armed and dangerous," Gil said with a grimace. "We heard gun shots in the background."

The ride out to Lake Mead was quiet yet anxious. Sara wrung her hands. She'd already checked her gun four times. Technically, the search fell under police jurisdiction, or Search and Rescue. But when it involved one of their own . . .

"You nervous?" Warrick asked as he drove. Sara shook her head. Two seconds later, she nodded.

"I'm more nervous for Nick than anything else," she said. Her friend nodded as well.

"Yeah, he didn't sound too good on the phone," Warrick said.

"Though that didn't stop him from trying to down-play it," Sara said. Nick hadn't gone into specifics, but that almost made it worse. Sara kept imagining him with multiple gunshot wounds and broken legs, while he crawled through the forest.

"Typical Nick," Warrick said. "He never wants anyone worry."

"Yeah, well, he failed miserably this time."

Warrick laughed. It felt good to do, and for Sara to hear. Suddenly, Sara thought of something.

"On the phone, Nick said that Crane found him on the roads last time," she said. "Do you think Nick got away once already?"

Warrick raised an eyebrow at that. "It's possible," he said. "He said he'd stick to the woods because of that. And that makes it harder for us to find him."

Sara nodded, but then stopped as a thought assailed her. "Harder for us, but also harder for Crane."

"True."

Sara stared ahead at the road and the other vehicles headed out to Lake Mead.

"Just as long as we find him first," Sara said quietly.

Nick collapsed on the ground. His chest heaved, and he could feel each time his heart beat through the hole in his side. He didn't know where Crane was, but he knew he had to stop.

Nick pulled up his shirt. It was completely dark now, and the chill around these parts wasn't something he enjoyed, but he had to fix himself up before he bled out.

He tried to unwrap the bandage around his chest with his handcuffed hands. His ribs were the last worry he had. He studied his gunshot wound in the dim moon light. He could see the shimmer of blood, and his fingers told him the wound was a through-and-through. Nick quickly straightened the bandage and started wrapping it around his waist. It was slow-going, almost painstakingly so, but he wrapped it as well as he could.

A cry escaped his throat as he pulled tight on the bandage. Suck it up, Nick. You have to stop the bleeding. He just hoped nothing important was hit by the bullet. He suspected he would be okay since he hadn't died yet, but the night was young.

Nick pulled down at the hem of his shirt, and also at his jacket. He had to stay warm, so he stood to keep moving.

His vision was swirling. The dizziness hit his stomach too, and Nick almost fell back. He caught himself on the trunk of a tree, steadying himself. He swallowed dryly, and willed the oncoming nausea to pass.

The swirling got worse.

No, no, no—you can't pass out. Not now, man. Nick started walking forward. Walk it off. You can get by.

He hoped he was right.

"Grissom," he said, answering his phone.

"Gil, it's Jim," Brass said. "I just got word from the first on the scene. The house is empty. They're searching the area, but so far all they've got are some broken windows."

"Crane's not there?" Grissom repeated. He wanted Crane to be there, to be stupid or to give up. He wanted Nick to be safe. He'd already gone through so much, and Grissom didn't know how much more Nick could take.

"Crane's not here," Brass confirmed. "But his truck is."

Grissom almost hit the brakes of his SUV. "Then he followed Nick on foot." He wants Nick back. But Nick has escaped—how will that affect Crane's actions?

Will he be desperate enough to hurt Nick?

"Nick's already hurt," Grissom said aloud, forgetting about Brass on the phone for a moment. He shook his head. "Brass, it's a race now to find Nick first. He said he'd stick to the woods, and if Crane is in there tracking him, we'll have a problem."

"What do you want me to do?"

Grissom chewed on his lip for a second. "Get choppers ready with heat seekers. We're not far away now. I want my people on board too."

Nick didn't know when but he fell asleep. He didn't even remember stopping, but here he was, suddenly picking himself off the ground. Rough twigs and leaves stuck to his clothes. He could smell dirt, the earth around him. He groaned as he steadied himself on his feet.

That dizziness returned. His side no longer ached, but was sort of numb. His head, on the other hand, wasn't, but with all the blows Nigel dealt him, Nick figured it was a miracle his head hadn't exploded yet.

He wondered what time it was. The sky hadn't lightened yet for morning, and the woods were incredibly still. No birds, no crickets, just a slight breeze and darkness. The moon seemed to have disappeared behind some clouds. And now, everything looked the same.

Which way did I come? More importantly, he didn't know which way to go. Nick swallowed, again feeling the grating of a dry throat.

I wonder if they're looking for me yet. He wasn't sure how long it'd been since he spoke to Grissom on the phone. You better keep moving.

He took a wobbly step forward, then stopped. If I keep going, will they find me?

The first rule of being lost was to stay put. Yeah, but you also could have a psycho killer after you.

It wasn't just a possibility. He knew Crane hadn't given up. Unless the police found him, Crane was still a danger. Nick shuddered. Nigel Crane spooked him. There wasn't a person in the world who made Nick's skin crawl like Crane did.

Keep moving. Nick took a deep breath, and continued through the woods. Twigs snapped under his boots, and he cringed as he realized how loud he was being.

His foot connected with something, and Nick stumbled. He tried to catch himself, but ended up just bracing his fall with his cuffed hands. His shoulder hit the ground next, and then his back as he rolled off the impact.

Maybe I should just stay put. Nick sighed. He felt so tired! He also felt cold, but he knew his jacket could only be expected to do so much.

It's not just the jacket, man. He didn't really want to think about that. He shut his eyes, and let himself relax.

I wonder how Mom and Dad are. The worry their bodies emitted during that press conference made Nick more anxious. The Stokes weren't easily shook up. He wondered if the rest of his family was around.

You'll see them soon. He started drifting off again.

Just as something in the dark approached.