A/N: I want to thank everyone for all the great reviews posted for chapter one! I really appreciate the time you took to let me know that you are enjoying this story. It was a wonderful, warm welcome back for me to I thought I'd let you know that this will be a five-chapter fic, and that it is just about complete, although not yet totally typed or edited. So there shouldn't be any major delays between postings. Thanks again to my amazing beta, Grissom! Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Trapped
Sara awoke to an odd quiet, though her ears still reverberated with the roar of the mine collapse. Occasional clinks of smaller rocks falling and her own labored breathing were the only sounds she heard. She slowly lifted her head, trying to shake the dirt from her hair and shoulders. She attempted to look around, but it was pitch black—she couldn't even see a foot in front of her face.
She realized that it was hard to breathe, and her lungs and throat burned with each inhalation of air. Panic began to set in as she unconsciously tried to take deeper breaths. She got dizzy and she felt like she might pass out again. Willing herself to stay in control, she managed to slow down her respiration. Discovering that if she took shallower breaths, it was much more comfortable, Sara began to calm down and take stock of the situation.
She sat up carefully, coughing as the movement spread more dust into the already thick air. Besides the pain in her chest, she felt reasonably intact, with no other apparent injuries. But then she shifted, and winced when she felt a sharp twinge in her back. What was that from? she wondered, her thoughts still muddled. Did something fall on me? Then clarity struck and her mind screamed, Grissom! Her heartbeat quickened again, seemingly of its own accord, and she called his name aloud, "Grissom!" He had been right in front of her. Where was he? "Grissom!" she yelled, her voice ringing desperately in the small space.
She shuddered as she remembered the last time she had seen him. He had pushed her out of the way, and then stood there helplessly, being buried as the roof fell down on him. Fear fluttered back to life inside her, and she struggled to keep her mind focused. She thought about Grissom again, and that was enough to force her into an immediate calm. It was up to her to find him and help get them out of there. He hadn't answered her calls, and that meant that he was hurt, and possibly unconscious, or he was awake but couldn't talk for some reason, or he was someplace where he couldn't hear her, or…something much worse that Sara refused to even consider yet.
But she knew he had been close by when the shaft supports collapsed. I was facing him, she remembered, so it made sense to start her search in that direction. But the disorienting darkness didn't allow her to know what direction that had actually been.
Her deductive thought processes kicked in. All right, she told herself, I know my back hit the wall when Grissom pushed me out of the way…He saved me, she pondered, getting distracted. Disaster was about to strike, and he protected me, put my life above his. Does that mean…? No, of course not. It was just instinct. He would have done the same thing if it had been any of our other team members in here with him…wouldn't he? She shook her head, knowing she needed to concentrate on the crucial situation at hand.
She felt around until she came in contact with the rough mine wall that had been behind her when she had woken up. She leaned her back against it, and then got on her hands and knees. Using the wall as a reference, she crawled straight ahead slowly, one hand stretching blindly in front of her, searching for something solid. As she made her way along the ground, she felt plenty of debris and dirt all around her. Some of it poked up sharply, and she had to take care to avoid injuring herself.
After it felt like she had crawled for miles, but had probably advanced only a few feet, her outstretched fingers suddenly bumped into something soft. It was actually something soft buried under a layer of dirt, but she was certain she had found Grissom. She began quickly brushing some of the grit off with both hands, but stopped when she felt curly hair beneath her sightless touch. It was him! "Grissom!" Sara called, moving her hand further back on his head; her fingers reached something wet and sticky, and she instantly jerked her hand away. Oh, God, he's bleeding! she realized in silent fear. A head wound—not good. She moved her hands downward and found his shoulder, which she squeezed. "Grissom?" she asked tentatively. She gripped his shoulder more tightly, gave him a hard shake, and spoke more firmly, "Grissom! Grissom!"
He remained unresponsive, and Sara's worry escalated. "Come on, Gris, you've got to hear me!" Her hands slid along his arm to his hand, and his fingers were unexpectedly cold in her grasp. An involuntary gasp escaped her throat, and she pulled her fingers back from his. No, no, no! she thought. He can't be…Grissom can't be… She wouldn't even allow herself to think the word that hung ominously in her mind.
She was terrified, but at the same time, she had to know. She just had to know for certain. So she reached out again, finding his limp hand. She squeezed his fingers tightly, still getting no reaction from him, and took a deep breath. Then, she slid her fingertips forward, feeling for the inside of his wrist. Her eyes closed reflexively, even though it was too dark to see anything, as she searched for his pulse. She felt like she was going to pass out again, this time in utter relief, when she located the spot that jumped slightly with each beat of his heart. His pulse was a bit weak and thready, but it was there, it was definitely there. "Thank God," Sara breathed. Now that she knew Grissom was still with her, she realized she had to find out just how dire a situation they were in. She didn't even know the condition of the cave or if there was a way out. Thinking back, she tried to recall where their flashlights might have landed.
Feeling around, she tried to locate the lights, hoping at least one of them had survived intact. After a few minutes, she got lucky and stumbled upon one of their Maglites, partially buried under a mound of earth. She twisted the end and a beam of light flooded the small space, reflecting off the bits of dust floating in the air.
She immediately directed the beam toward Grissom's still form, and the sight that greeted her was both shocking and scary. The right side of his body was half-buried in a pile of dirt and debris that had been shaken loose by the mine collapse; a thick chunk of the wooden beam that had been above his head was now lying across his back and shoulders, essentially pinning him to the ground.
From where Sara was still kneeling on the mine floor, she couldn't tell how heavy the beam might be, but she was almost certain she wouldn't be able to lift it alone. In spite of that, she stood and moved closer to him, planning to do what she could to help him.
As Sara got a better look at Grissom, she grimaced. The gash she had felt earlier on the left side of his head was pretty nasty, still oozing blood at an alarming rate. The red stickiness had covered his face, neck, and shoulder on its gravity-driven path to the ground. Why do head wounds have to bleed so much? she thought with a shiver. She knew the biological reason behind the profusion of blood on Grissom, but that didn't help quell the concern coursing through her.
Sara came up next to him, placing the flashlight on the ground and aiming it to illuminate the area as much as possible. She didn't know how badly Grissom was hurt, and if she should even risk trying to free or move him, but she figured that the heavy weight across his back could only be causing him further injury. So she decided to try and lift it. Crouching down and getting a solid grip on the wood, Sara attempted to stand and lift the beam with her. She surprised herself by raising it a few inches. It was not as heavy as it appeared, most likely because its density had been reduced by age, along with water and inevitable insect damage.
Gritting her teeth, Sara kept her grip on the wood and strained to move it a bit higher so she could heave it off Grissom's back. But she couldn't do it; she couldn't even shift the chunk of beam to either side enough to make a difference. Her hold on the splintery wood was starting to slip, and she had no choice but to lower it back down onto Grissom. She did it as gently as she could, so it wouldn't fall with any force and hurt him even more.
It was helpful that she had discovered that she could lift the wood up off him, but she needed both hands to do it. Unfortunately, that meant that Grissom would have to be able to pull himself out from under the debris, and he still showed no signs of waking up yet.
Maybe none of it would make a difference because they would be rescued before she had to worry about releasing him. She knew that others must be aware that they were trapped in the mine. David and his assistants had been right outside when it happened. And Brass knew where they were, too. Sara could only assume that they were working hard to get them out of there as quickly as possible.
Taking a step back and reaching for the flashlight, Sara thought she saw Grissom's outstretched fingers twitch. She wondered if the change in pressure on his back as she had tried to remove the chunk of wood had roused him. She hoped so—she was becoming increasingly concerned about the length of time he had been unconscious. Kneeling next to him, and touching his hand so he could feel her presence, she called his name, "Grissom? Can you hear me?" After getting no further response from him, she let out a slow breath and stood, trying to keep the worry building inside her from boiling over and making her totally useless.
Attempting to think practically, she picked up the flashlight and took a good look around. She sighed when she realized that they weren't going to be able to get out the way they had come in—not without a lot of digging. The entire entrance to the mine had caved in; the opening was now completely blocked by huge mounds of earth and rock.
Swinging the light around, Sara looked toward the passageway she had seen veering off to the left from the main alcove. That gap, too, was now inaccessible. They were trapped in the space between the entrance and the rocky wall that Sara had hit when Grissom had pushed her out of danger.
She was certain that Brass and the LVPD and their team were trying to find a way to get to them. But Sara wished she knew more about what they were planning, and when a rescue might be attempted. She really wanted to let the others know that Grissom was hurt—possibly badly—and that time could become a crucial factor. She thought about her cell phone, wondering why it hadn't occurred to her sooner. Knowing the chances of getting a signal inside the mine were slim, she figured it was worth a shot anyway.
But when she reached for the phone, clipped as usual to the side of her waistband, she knew it would be a futile effort. Before she even brought the phone around so she could see it, she realized it was broken. It must have been smashed when she had hit the wall earlier. She made a face at the remains of her cell phone. The cover had come loose, and a couple of the circuit boards were sticking out through the cracks. She made an annoyed sound, and tossed the useless piece of technology onto the ground.
Exhaling in frustration, Sara sank down against the wall and swiped at the sweat dripping down her face. The oppressive heat had become unbearable, so she stripped down to her tank top, tossing her unneeded jacket and shirt onto the ground. She glanced around one more time, her flashlight beam stopping on Grissom. "Hang on, Gris," she said out loud to him. "I know they'll be coming to get us soon. Just hang on."
She stared at him a moment longer, willing him to move or wake up so she could assure herself that he was all right. But he remained still. Knowing she had to conserve the batteries, Sara reluctantly turned the flashlight off, plunging the mine into darkness once again.
To Be Continued…