Late afternoon. The trees around them cast long shadows, mirroring the shadows over each man's thoughts. The steadily increasing elevation of their path was rough going on the two of them, and they were each struggling mightily to keep up the pace they knew they needed to make it to the station before dark. Nick's original statement that they could do three miles an hour was turning out to be a futile assumption. Still, he figured they had made it twenty of the thirty miles Grissom had been right about. Of course he was right about.

They hadn't been any luckier with the water situation either; the alkaline stream they had found hours before being the last sign of water they had seen. They were pretty far up now and Nick still held out hope that they might find a small stream coming down the mountainside that would give them what they so desperately wanted.

They paused for another rest; both aware that this was only slowing their progress further but each figuring the other needed it. As Nick cast his eyes up to the sky he noticed several birds high up, floating on the afternoon thermals. Are those what I think they are ? …

"Hey, Gris. You see what I see?" he asked, eyes steady on a point up in the sky ahead of them.

"I don't know, Nick. What do you see?"

"Turkey vultures."

"And…?"

"Well, Boss. You know your bugs, but I know my birds. And where there are turkey vultures there's usually carrion. I'm thinking maybe our crime scene is up ahead."

"Well then, lead on worthy MacDuff, and we shall take upon what else remains to do, according to our order."

"Shakespeare this time?"

Grissom nodded. "Very good, Nick."

……………

They had picked up a bit of speed; having a goal so apparently close lightening their footsteps. Nick kept an eye on the sky and the flying beacons of death. As they reached the area below where the birds circled they slowed a bit, not sure what they would find or where they would find it. As they entered a small clearing dominated by a great ancient tree they knew without a doubt that they had found the source of the vultures' delight. Two bodies, one noticeably smaller than the other, were tied to the tree with heavy rope. Scavenging animals and insects, along with the aforementioned vultures had been feasting on the remains but even the actions of the wildlife couldn't disguise the manner in which the two had died.

Not died. Been killed, Nick realized.

The men each had a bear trap clamped on their leg. A shotgun was leaned against the tree next to the first, smaller man…body…and the second shotgun was on the forest floor next to the larger. The second shotgun had been used. On the larger man's head. Most of his face had been shot off; the damage easily recognized by the two criminalists.

The larger corpse was dressed appropriately for cool weather in the mountains- flannel shirt, vest, heavy denim jeans, and boots. The smaller corpse was wearing an expensive looking LL Bean kind of shirt- the kind that looks warm in the catalog but is more for appearance's sake. It was worn with a pair of khaki Dockers and rich leather Italian loafers.

Nick and Grissom crept closer, trying to take in what they were seeing.

"Grissom, I've seen some odd crime scenes before but…wow. This is one for the books." His voice had dropped to a murmur, conscious of the fact that someone had obviously done this to the two men. Unless it was some kind of weird suicide pact. The bear traps made Nick strongly doubt that's what transpired.

As they got closer to the bodies they were able to get a better look at the men they were before…well. Just Before. Animal and insect activity had disfigured the smaller man's face but his features were still Oriental in appearance. The larger man was burly and bearded, and his face was completely obliterated. His remaining flesh and the beard lead to the conclusion that he was probably Caucasian.

"So we have an inappropriately but very nicely dressed Asian man on a mountainside with Grizzly Adams?" Nick asked.

"We have something else, Nick." Grissom had wandered a bit away and was half squatting, half leaning on his makeshift crutch, staring at the ground. "We have what appears to be a fresh grave."

Sure enough, there was a large area of freshly turned earth, barely covered over by leaf litter. A small pile of stones had been arranged at one end.

"Curiouser and curiouser…" Grissom mumbled to himself. "I wish we had our equipment. But necessity being what it is…" he began to dig in the dirt.

He had gotten a few feet down, Nick pitching in to help. Both men absorbed in their efforts, they failed to take note of the approach of quiet footsteps.

"Disturb not the grave! It is that of one of God's favored children."

The two looked up to see the arrival of a man with a long beard and wild dread-locked hair. He held a high-powered rifle aimed at them. They stood, arms held away from their sides, staring at the man who had spoken so strangely.

"I see you survived your trip down the mountainside. Perhaps it is better this way. You can join your brethren in Hell!" the man said, gesturing towards the corpses.

"Sir, I'm Gil Grissom, and this is my associate Nick Stokes. We don't know who those men are. We were called to investigate their deaths."

"Liar! You came in the same gas-guzzling monstrosity, spewing your filth into the air. You came to take more of His children. Murderers!"

Nick spoke up. "We're scientists. We just came to check on what happened to these men. Do you know what happened to them?"

"They murdered an innocent. They were smote down in the eyes of the Lord."

Grissom paused a moment, forming a thought. "May I ask with whom we are speaking?"

"You may know me by my actions, and the sanctification I received by our Lord God.

I am Saint Francis of Assisi."