Chapter 15
As soon Dan collapsed onto the ground, Greg, Brass, and a couple of rescuers ran forward towards Sara's lifeless body. It had been pushed up onto the sand by the waves and now lay there, still and unmoving. Catherine hung back, her face broken, Lauren bouncing up and down at her side, trying to get an answer out of her. Matt looked nervous, hiding partially behind Catherine's leg and quietly watching the scene proceed before him.
"Sara…Sara!" Greg shouted, kneeling down at her side, ignoring the corpse of Dan a foot or so from him. He reached out to her wrist and placed two of his fingers along it. "Slow pulse… I don't think she's breathing!" He sounded panicked.
Brass took control. "Move over Greg!" He knelt down as well, feeling for a pulse himself. It was there…barely…and her chest was not rising and falling with moving air.
"Do you know CPR?" Greg asked in a slight panic.
"Yeah…yeah I do…" Brass then muttered, "Airway, breathing, circulation…right," He placed the back of his hand close to Sara's nose and mouth, feeling no sign of air, then slowly tilted her head back. "Greg this is a learning experience. Watch for her chest to rise and tell me if it doesn't…"
"Okay," Greg said breathlessly, kneeling nearby, his mouth open in anxiety. His tongue felt dry, stuck to the roof of his mouth. Brass pinched Sara's nose closed, and gave her two slow breaths. He lifted his head up.
"Nothing." Greg said, gulping.
"Again," Brass readjusted the position of Sara's head, repeated the two breaths, and this time, when he pulled away two sharp, spluttering coughs came from Sara's mouth and her eyes opened with a panicked expression.
"Are you okay?" Greg asked earnestly.
Sara, still coughing, leaned to the side and vomited out a large amount of water, which soaked into the sand.
"Your…hands are tied…I didn't notice…" Brass noted. He reached around to Sara's back and undid the vine wrapped around her wrists. "Saltwater isn't too nice on the stomach." He was breathing heavily, like he had just run a marathon, though it was probably excess adrenaline running through his body.
Sara continued to cough, sitting upright, holding the back of a shaky hand to her mouth, the saltwater on her face from tears.
"Is she okay?" Catherine had come, deciding this was too important for her not to be a part of. Lauren and Matt sat back with Ecklie, who looked somewhere between his usual grumpy self and concern.
Sara answered her, nodding vigorously, though she continued to cough violently. She tried to gulp down some air, trying to steady her breathing, trying to take in deep slow breaths. She was alive.
Brass finally turned to the dead body of Dan, splayed out on a small puddle of blood merging with the sand and dyeing it its crimson color.
"All right," he said to the two rescuers who had followed him. "I want you two to stay with this body. Cover it with leaves, blankets, anything to protect it from the elements. Catherine, go tell the other two of these guys I want them to take Sara, and the two kids back with them to the rescue plane. She needs to get looked at. And actually, you go with. That broken nose needs to get treated ASAP. Tell them to tell the helicopters to head this way. They'll pick the rest of us up."
Catherine nodded and bent down next to Sara, wiped her own blood onto her pants and placed her hand on Sara's shoulder.
"Sara, cad you stad up?"
Sara nodded once more, and slowly hoisted herself upright. She was shaking and still trying to catch her breath. Catherine wiped one of her bloody hands onto her pants and then helped Sara across the sand.
"Are you okay, Sawa?" Lauren asked, breaking away from Ecklie and coming over to them. Her big brown eyes gazed at Sara in such a way it would be a surprise if somebody didn't give her what it was she wanted, in this case information.
"Yeah…yeah Lauren I'm fine…" Sara said, her voice hoarse.
"Ecklie, Brass bight wad to talk to you." Catherine said, "We cad take de kids frob here…" She turned to the male and female rescuers before her, both in cop clothing. "Brass said to take us to de plade ad to tell de helicopters to cob pick deb up…" She looked back at the rest of them. "You bight wad to ward theb of de dead body…"
Ecklie headed off towards Brass and Greg, who were helping with the covering of Dan's corpse. When he reached them, he stood back and watched.
"Take a look in his pockets…anything in there?" Brass asked.
One of the men reached into both pockets.
"Nothing, Detective."
Brass let out a heated sigh.
"This shooting is going to be under question."
"Hey, Brass," Greg said, "Any way to…to know when those helicopters are going to get here?"
Brass turned to him.
"I don't see why it matters, Greg," He grinned, "You're going home no matter what."
Greg sat in the left, backseat of Brass's rented SUV. Sara sat next to him, stuck in between him and Ecklie. She was asleep or at least resting, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head resting on top of them. Ecklie was awake, and still looked like his permanently grumpy self, one hand resting on his flattened fist as he gazed out the window at the passing cars on this Hawaiian highway.
Catherine was in the front passenger seat, sleeping. Her nose had been packed with cotton and it now sported a skin-colored bandage across its bridge. Lauren and Matt were in the car behind them, a social worker escorting them to the hotel. They had all spent one observatory night in the hospital after getting off the plane. And they were now going to a hotel for a single day and a single night of relaxation before they would be taken back across the Pacific to the Las Vegas airport. Grissom, Nick, Lindsey, Catherine's mother, and Warrick would all be there, waiting for them, and Lauren and Matt's family would be there too.
After getting off the plane at the Hawaiian airport, they had been bombarded with shouted questions and flashing cameras as they got into the ambulance. A couple of news vans had even followed behind them as the ambulance took them to the hospital. They had managed to shake them off then, and while they were in the hospital Brass had grudgingly gone shopping and gotten them all a couple of clean new outfits.
Greg yawned during his small reminisce. Things felt so comfortable and new, sitting in this car, feeling fabric against his skin. The glass windows, the roadways, the buildings, the cars—it felt nice, and he appreciated them more now than ever. And now that he was at least back in civilization, he felt nervous about going back home. Almost.
"Here we are…" Brass declared. He turned the SUV quickly into a parking lot. Greg poked his face between the two front seats, trying to get a proper glimpse of the hotel. The front of the building faced the ocean, the sun shining down on it and reflecting brilliantly. Quite a few people were down on the beach, playing in the sand and swimming through the water.
Brass stopped the car, and as he, Greg, and Ecklie all opened their doors, the social worker's car pulled up in behind them.
"They're so exhausted," the woman said affectionately as she stepped out and greeted Brass. "Poor kids…both of their parents…"
Brass nodded in agreement. The woman had dark brown hair, big blue eyes, tanned skin, and was dressed warmly in a suit and nylons.
"Nice hotel…" It was Sara, and she had just stepped out of the vehicle, large bags under her eyes.
"You guys can go right on in," Brass said. "Don't forget Catherine. She's—"
"I'm awake!" Catherine appeared on the opposite side of the SUV.
Brass nodded at Mrs. Ferguson, the social worker, who turned back to the car and pulled out a sleeping Lauren. Brass then turned to escort the group of adults into the building.
As they walked through the lavishly decorated entrance hall and dining room, they gathered a good number of stares. A little girl who was sitting at a table with her mom and dad broke away from her lunch and began to point at the group passing to the front desk.
"Mommy! Daddy! They were on the news! They were on the news!"
"Lydia!" her mother snapped, pulling her arm down.
"But they were! Don't you remember? They were shot down in their airplane by that bad man and were on an island for four days! Don't you remember?"
Brass walked up to the front desk, spoke to the man there, and then came out with two sets of keys.
"Men," He handed one key to Greg, "Women." He handed the other to Catherine. "Pretty simple, you think?"
Catherine gave him a playful shove in the shoulder.
"You've got phones in your rooms. Grissom will be calling me sometime around two. I don't know what time it will be there. Who knows? Well he's calling at two, here. Go to your rooms. I'll get your stuff. Have some fun, relax. Hire room service. Go swimming. Have a good ol' hearty meal. Talk to people. Build a sand castle. Get a tan do something to relax. That's why you're here before you go back home. And don't worry too much about the cost of whatever you go to. People at the lab have chipped in to pay for this small vacation."
They chuckled a little bit, then headed off towards a set of stairs.
"Where are you all planning to head first?" Catherine asked, examining the room number on her key.
"A spa. Please tell me they have a spa." Sara said instantly.
"They have a spa." Greg said, passing a blue sign on the wall next to a door that read, clearly, "BATH AND BODY SPA".
"I'm going to the spa."
"Me too." Catherine agreed.
"I—" Greg began, but he was interrupted when a small voice piped up behind them.
"You were on the news, right?"
They all turned around, and there was the little girl Lydia. She had red hair and freckles, with piercing gray eyes and a red-checkered sundress on.
"Umm…I guess we were…" Catherine responded.
"You didn't say anything on there." Lydia said matter-of-factly.
"We were tired." Greg responded.
"Did you kill the bad man? There was a little Hawaiian girl that I met here, she lives here. She said that she knew him and that he was crazy."
"Umm…"
"Lydia!" It was her mother.
The girl ran to the top of the staircase. "Yeah?"
"Are you bothering them?"
She looked her toes, then looked over at the group. She waved goodbye, then hopped down the stairs back to her mother.
They continued to walk down the hallway, room 231…232…233…
"Room 234." Catherine stated, stopping and sticking the key in the hole.
"Room 235." Greg said. He too opened the door to his and Ecklie's room.
Catherine pushed the heavy door open and gasped when she got inside.
"Wow." Sara said, "Forget the spa, I'm staying here."
The room was very large, two double beds along one wall. A sliding door faced a balcony and the ocean. The carpet was white and the walls were a pale greenish-blue. A stunning lamp rested on a beautifully crafted end table between the two beds. The lampshade was green, with tropical insignia along its rim. A phone rested next to the lamp and a memo pad. A large amount of books rested along the top of a wardrobe, with drawers on one half of it and a cupboard on the other. Sara walked forward and opened the cupboard to reveal a mini-fridge stocked with milk, bread, peanut-butter, and chocolate.
A door connected their room with Greg and Ecklie's room. Next to that door was a large television resting on a beautiful stand. Next to that was a small closet with an ironing board and hangers.
"What's the bathroom look like?" Catherine went towards the closed door and opened it with a broad smile. A toilet and sink, the sink in a countertop made out of the same beautiful wood as everything else out in the room, dawned the right wall. A walk-in shower and a large bathtub took up two of the three corners, and everything was outlined with a gold-colored metal. Coconut scented conditioner and shampoo sat on the edge of the marble tub. The walls of the bathroom were tiled, and mosaic palm trees formed a border around the middle of the room.
"This is too awesome." Sara said. She went over to one of the double beds and laid down on it. The cream covers were very soft and comfortable and the pillows were cool and smooth against her sunburned skin. Catherine strode over to the other bed and lay down, running her hand along its length.
"We are going to sleep like queens tonight Sara."
"Hmm…?" Sara mumbled quietly, her eyes closed as she pressed the side of her face into the pillow.
Catherine smiled and opened her mouth to say something when the adjoining door suddenly opened.
"Dude, Cath, did you know there's a Playstation 2 in the TV thing? I am so gonna kick Ecklie's butt!"
"You do that Greg," Catherine mumbled. She too was nesting into the covers of the bed, fully clothed.
"Hey, whatever. If all you want to do is sleep, be my guest but I am going to kick some serious Ecklie butt."
Catherine groaned and lazily threw one of her pillows at Greg, who ducked and closed the door.
Knock, knock.
Catherine raised her head from the pillow and instantly cringed. Her mouth was extremely dry and her nose was aching. She rubbed her face, pulling her hand down it in an expression of annoyance.
Knock, knock.
"Who is it…?" she asked groggily. She caught sight of the clock beside her bed: 5:37 PM. Crap…she'd missed Grissom's call, missed it horribly. She had been meaning to talk with him to see how Lindsey was.
"It's Lauren!" It was a sweet, adult voice that was nothing like Lauren's.
"Uggh…" Catherine made her way to the door, noting two small suitcases inside it. 'Brass must have dropped off our stuff,' she thought, looking out the peephole and opening the door.
Mrs. Ferguson stood there, holding Lauren's tiny hand.
"Hey, Lauren…Mrs. Ferguson…is…is there a problem?"
"Lauren's been whining for you two." she said. "Nothing I did would get her to settle down."
"When did she start?" Catherine asked as Lauren released Mrs. Ferguson and instead went to Catherine.
"After she asked about her parents," Mrs. Ferguson frowned, looking pitiful. "I told her that she couldn't see them and she started throwing a temper tantrum."
"Where's Matt?" Catherine asked.
"He's in with the men. Mr. Sanders offered to play videogames with him."
"Oh…well…well, thank you. Is there anything…that we're supposed to do, not supposed to do...?"
"Just keep her happy. I see no reason she shouldn't be with you unless you don't want her to be. She's gone through trauma and apparently she's close to you two."
"All right…thank you…" Catherine said. Mrs. Ferguson waved and walked away as Catherine closed the door.
"I don't like her." Lauren said, pouting. "She won't let me see my mommy and daddy." She looked around the room she was in. "I want to see Mommy." She stuck out her bottom lip at Catherine.
"Umm, Lauren…"
"What's up?" Sara had awakened, rubbing her eyes groggily. She coughed harshly a couple of times then sat up in bed.
"Lauren just got dropped off by that social worker. She wants to see her mom."
"Sawa, will you take me to my mommy?" Lauren whined.
Sara threw an anxious look at Catherine, who looked as equally unsettled.
"Umm…Lauren, about your mom and dad…"
Catherine lifted Lauren up by her armpits and set her on the bed. Sara headed over and she too sat down cross-legged on the bed.
"Lauren…do you remember when the plane went down?" Catherine asked quietly, bent down at eye-level with her.
Lauren nodded.
"Do you remember that your mommy and daddy were in that plane?"
"Yes. But…but I was too."
"You're right! And you got out of there didn't you?"
Lauren nodded.
"Lauren…your mommy and daddy didn't ever get out of that plane…"
She looked confused.
"But…but can't we go get them?"
"Lauren…" Sara entered the conversation, "Lauren, your mom and dad aren't coming back. You can't see them anymore."
"But…" Lauren stammered. "But…but…I want to!"
"We know you do." Catherine reached out and brushed a bit of Lauren's hair behind her ears. "We know you do…and we wish you could…but…they're gone."
"No." Lauren said angrily.
"Yes." Catherine insisted slowly, in a soft voice.
"No!" she cried. "No! No! No!"
She began to lash out at Catherine, kicking at her with her brand new Dora tennis shoes. Catherine grabbed her flailing feet in her hands, trying to calm her down.
"Lauren, I'm sorry."
The little girl began to cry. Sara reached around Lauren's neck from behind, holding her closely.
"Lauren, it's going to be alright, okay?"
Lauren twisted around and wrapped her arms tightly around Sara's neck.
"I want my mommy and daddy…" she sniffed.
"I know you do…" Sara wiped her face, which had sprung open with silent tears, and gave Lauren another squeeze. "I know you do."
A cool ocean breeze blew across the balcony the next morning when Sara opened the sliding door and stepped out. She was wearing an orange shirt and khaki capris; her feet dawned with new brown sandals. She held onto a cocktail glass as she closed the door behind her and swept over to the balcony edge, placing her arms across it.
The balcony faced the ocean, reflecting the peaceful sunrise, nothing breaking the reflection other than the calm waves groping at the sandy shore. Sara took a sip from her drink, then lowered it and swirled the paper umbrella around the rim. A small family of three was loading into their minivan. Sara recognized the little girl as Lydia. She scampered across the parking lot with a pinwheel in her hand and her light hair flying out behind her.
Sara absently watched them load into their vehicle, swirling her drink some more. The little girl looked up and caught sight of Sara. She waved fervently as her mother tried to coax her into the van. Sara offered her a small smile and wave, which was cue enough for Lydia to obey her mom.
The van closed up and drove out of the parking lot, a bit of light gray smoke puffing out from the exhaust pipe. Sara sighed. It felt good to see the everyday things once again. Even after four days (Or was it five? She could never remember) of being stuck on that island, she had learned to appreciate the modern gifts that surrounded her today, the abundance of food, the joy of electricity, and most of all…a toilet.
The sun was rising over the horizon. She was up early, but she didn't feel like she was up that early. She sighed and took another sip from her drink. She had ordered it from downstairs, not feeling quite up to heading down to the gaping people just yet. It felt good to be out here alone, to think about everything that happened and to release any tension before they got back to Las Vegas. Oh to see her apartment again…
Suddenly, she heard the sliding door behind her open. She turned her head and saw Greg coming toward her, similar drink in his hand. He leaned against the railing next to her, without a word.
"Do you want something?" Sara asked, taking another drink and twirling her umbrella again.
Greg shrugged.
"Is Ecklie bothering you?" Sara pressed.
"He snores."
"So do you."
He shrugged again.
"I wanted to see if you were up for an extra early breakfast but you weren't in your room. And then I saw you out here."
"You went into my room when I could have been sleeping?"
Greg shrugged a third time.
"So…what are you doing out here?"
Sara paused, then said, "Thinking."
"About what?"
"Lots of things."
"Name one." Greg took a large sip from his cocktail.
"Umm…how close I came to being murdered for one thing."
"Pure luck you had radioed in beforehand." Greg responded. "Anything else?"
"About how Lauren and Matt are going to grow up with the knowledge of murdered parents."
"They're strong kids. They'll be okay. I suppose it's a good thing it happened when they were young."
"Is it?" Sara asked, looking at the swirling liquid inside her glass, her voice low.
"Well…I…no…no, I guess not."
"It's not fun losing a parent, no matter how old you are."
"And you would know?"
Sara pursed her lips, realizing too late that she had backed herself into a corner.
"My father," she mumbled, shifting her feet nervously, hoping she wouldn't have to explain much further. A stupid hope, she knew, and it was confirmed when Greg continued.
"How old were you?"
"13. You know, I really don't want to talk about it," she said quickly, bringing the glass back up to her lips.
Greg examined her face for a few more moments, before saying, "What else are you thinking about?"
Sara paused.
"How in the beginning I was so annoyed with Ecklie being so impeccably…just…Ecklie and how now I feel a little more tolerant…a little."
Greg paused and stewed in thought of Sara's responses.
"Anything else?"
Sara shrugged this time. "Not really."
"Hmm…do you want to talk about anything?"
Sara looked over at him. "Why am I getting interrogated? What do you want to talk about?"
Greg gave her a sly look. "Well…I don't know…how about after I left you that one night, what did you end up wishing for? And don't say nothing, because that would just be a horrible waste of a shooting star."
Sara stared at the swirling paper umbrella.
"It wasn't that special of a wish, Greg."
"So?"
"I wanted us to get off that island alive and in relatively good shape. And it came true…barely…"
"I'm sure that drowning isn't a very fun way to die." Greg stated softly.
"It's not a very fun in any aspect." She paused again, trying to suppress a shudder. She looked out at the ocean. "He didn't say it exactly, but I think he was going to kill everyone else too. No murderer, no witness, no crime. So I guess he'd have ended up killing himself in the end."
"Getting off that island was not a bad wish."
"It was lame. It was either get off the island alive or take a shower."
"Yeah, I noticed your hair was straight again."
Sara reached up and pulled her fingers through her hair.
"And I only got about a million split ends trying to comb through it all."
"Oh no!" Greg said in mock distress.
"Knock it off," Sara said jokingly, giving him a shove.
"You seem tense…" Greg noted, setting his glass on the railing and stepping behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and instantly she tensed up even further. "Well jeez, if you're going to do that of course you're tense."
"What are you doing?" she asked quickly.
"Giving you a backrub because I think you need one?"
"There's a spa for that you know."
"It's not open this early."
He began to move his hands along Sara's shoulders, kneading her back.
"Besides, we're not in a spa. We're out here drinking cocktails and talking about stuff. And you don't freak out when one of those strangers start giving you a backrub."
"Well…but…"
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm doing this as strictly friend to friend, or coworker to coworker if you don't even want to consider us friends. Or you could pretend I'm that stranger in the spa."
"Greg…you are such a weirdo."
"Merci."
"A French speaking weirdo…"
"Gracias."
He took his hands off her shoulders and picked up his glass from the railing.
"Feeling turned on?"
Sara glared at him.
"No."
"That's good."
Sara rolled her eyes and gave him another shove.
"Hey, am I interrupting anything?" The sliding door was open once again and Catherine stood in it. She was wearing the same wrinkled clothes as yesterday. Her hair was in bed-head mode and the purple bruises beneath her eyes were more prominent than ever.
"No," Sara and Greg said at the same time.
"I woke up and you weren't there…and I heard you talking out here." She rubbed an eye. "I was just going to…to," She tried to hold back a yawn but it came out. "To take a shower…" Another yawn.
"Catherine, you're not allowed to take showers with that nose." Sara reminded her.
"Oh…yeah…a bath. I hope it's got a Jacuzzi setting or something…"
"Good luck with that." Sara said, smiling.
"Well, I was wondering if you guys would get Lauren up and we could all head down to breakfast or something."
"Sounds fun," Greg said. "It'll be fun. I'll go see if Matt wants to go later. He's still sleeping, somehow, with Ecklie's snores."
Catherine turned around and Sara and Greg followed her back into the room, empty glasses in hand. Catherine headed into the bathroom and Greg and Sara sat down on a bed. Greg reached over and grabbed the remote from the side table and turned on the television.
"Wanna play videogames?"
"Are you planning on kicking Sara butt now?"
"Yup. You're going down."
"You are such a kid." Sara laughed, but she got up and turned on the Playstation despite herself.
Six karate matches and half-an-hour later, Greg was pouting on the floor of the hotel, fiddling around with the controller.
"You only won those last five times because I was going easy on you. I could be a lot worse you know. Come on, redo. This time I'm playing for real."
"Greg," Sara said slyly, starting up another game. "That's what you said the last four games.
"Yeah, well this time I mean it."
Sara rolled her eyes and pressed start. They both flew into a button-pressing frenzy.
"Gah! Kick-kick-punch! Hiya! Get her! Get her you stupid good-for-nothing—"
"What are you doing?" Lauren was awake.
"Kicking Greg's butt." Sara said, as a deep voice emitted from the television: 'K.O.'.
"REDO!" Greg shouted, hitting the restart button.
"Naw, Greg, I'm done." Sara set the controller aside. "We have to get Lauren ready for breakfast. I think Catherine's almost done in the bathroom."
The screen started up again and Sara's player stood motionless.
"You're dead meat!" Greg began to attack the lifeless figurine on the screen.
"Greg, it doesn't count if I'm not playing."
"Oh yeah!" Greg threw his hands up in victory as the deep, 'K.O.' voice came over the TV again. "I win! I win!"
"Not yet. You still have another match." Sara pointed out.
"Yeah, well…well…"
"Here, Lauren, do you want to play?"
"Yes!"
Sara handed her the controller and then went over to the bathroom door.
"Cath, you almost done in there?"
"Yeah!" Catherine's voice echoed out from inside.
Sara turned around, just as Greg's angry voice broke out. "NO WAY!"
"What?"
"She beat me!"
Sara laughed. "Good job Lauren."
"I can't believe it. I was beaten…by a 3-year-old!"
"Never underestimate Greg." Sara reached over to a suitcase left in the doorway. "Oh, look at this Lauren! Brass can actually pick out little girl clothes!" She pulled out a miniature pair of shorts, the pockets decorated with flowers and a yellow and pink t-shirt.
"I'll go get Matt up." Greg said, sounding disheartened.
"Don't go killing yourself, now."
Greg waved a hopeless hand at her as he closed the adjoining door.
Fifteen minutes later, they were all walking down the hallway towards the stairs, Lauren in her new clothes, Catherine dressed in a red v-neck t-shirt and shorts, Greg in a blue tank top and shorts, and Matt in a monster truck tank top and matching green shorts. Ecklie had decided to sleep in.
As they went downstairs, they gathered more stares from pretty much everybody. Feeling uncomfortable, they ducked over to the dining area. A buffet lined the back wall, brimming with bacon, eggs, pancakes, and boxes of cereal. Several other people were already eating their breakfast, and a couple paused to look up at them as they tried to pass over to the food as inconspicuously as possible.
With full plates, they sat at a table far in the corner, in a coincidentally good spot to watch the early morning news.
"Oh now this should be interesting…" Sara said sarcastically, swallowing her bite of eggs. "Look," She pointed at the television with her fork. There they were, filing off the plane, Sara, Lauren, Matt, and Catherine.
The voiceover of a reporter was heard, "A total of six survivors on a plane of nine, not counting the pilot and crew, exited their rescue plane yesterday afternoon. The four surviving adults had been reportedly going to Australia for a seminar regarding their careers, and the two surviving youngsters had been merely going on vacation, only to tragically lose both of their parents in the crash."
"Oh my God…" Sara said, "I am so glad there were no mirrors on that island…my hair is enormous…"
"Your hair?" Catherine declared, "My nose! Uggh, they should have censored that!"
"Quiet!" Greg snapped as the reporter began to speak again, standing in front of a ramshackle hut near what looked like a road.
"This is the home of Daniel Porter, a well known citizen in his community as well as the owner of a successful auto-repair shop. He was known around the neighborhood as a relatively lonely person, who didn't go out much except to work, where he would do his job, and then come home to tinker around.
Little did people realize that this tinkering had served a much more sinister purpose these past couple of months. This runway was for his private plane, which was used to shoot down the airplane of those six survivors. Let's here what some acquaintances of Mr. Porter have to say…"
A man came up on screen, all the hair on the top of his head nestled around his chin.
"He's was…kind of strange. I know I felt uneasy around him. Kinda…kinda an indescribable feeling, really."
A new person, a pretty young woman.
"Mr. Porter was my boss. I was secretary at his shop. He was always really into telling stories…he told me once…once about this one girl he knew, and about how I reminded him about her. I quit soon after. When he told me about it he was acting kinda weird…kinda strange, not himself."
More people, the word strange coming up more than once in more than one person.
Then the reporter came up once again, "We're still pressing the law enforcement for information, but we're getting there. The survivors were treated at the capital's hospital, and are now relaxing at a hotel before they head back home tomorrow. Our prayers and thoughts are with them as they try to recover from this ordeal."
The news then changed to a different story and the group let out a heavy sigh.
"Glad we're not the only one's who know he's crazy." Sara said, poking her pancakes with her fork.
"Ah, well…" Catherine said. She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled at it. "He's dead. He won't be bothering us anymore and we won't have to worry about anybody trying to shoot down our plane on the way home."
"Knock on wood!" Greg cried.
Catherine rolled her eyes and tapped the table with her knuckles.
They continued to eat, chatting and joking about random things, now oblivious to the numerous stares they were gathering. They gossiped about Ecklie a little bit…wondering if he did have giant hickey from getting pulled out of the quicksand or if he was eating all the chocolate in the mini-fridge for breakfast.
About an hour later, joyful and with full bellies, they still remained at the empty table, still talking, carefree and completely enjoying themselves.
"Sawa," Lauren asked, poking her arm. "I'm bored."
"Oh…umm…well, I…there's a gift shop down that way, do you want to go look at that stuff?"
"Yeah!"
They set off down the lavish hallway, once again trying to dodge the numerous wide-eyed tourists around them.
"Ooh…Lauren, look at all this!"
"What?" Lauren peeked out from behind Sara at the large gift shop filled to the brink with assorted knickknacks.
"See anything you like? Don't forget, we're just going to look." Sara asked, holding Lauren's hand and looking around herself.
"What's that?" Lauren pointed over at a pegboard full of key-chains.
"Those are key-chains. You put your keys on them so they don't get lost."
Lauren dragged Sara towards them and they began to examine the various designs.
"Do you want to look at anything Matt?" Catherine asked.
Matt looked quietly around the brimming walls then pointed over at a set of activity books.
They examined the numerous trinkets for awhile, the adults feeling slightly anxious with everybody coming into the room gawking at them.
"Alright Lauren, our plane leaves in a couple of hours." Sara said after awhile. "We should get going to other stuff we'd like to do." Spa. Spa. Spa.
"But I want it!" Lauren cried, picking up one of the hula girl chains.
"Lauren, we don't have any money to buy that. We were just looking, remember? I told you that."
Lauren stuck out her lip as Sara took her hand and placed the doll back.
"Please, Sawa?"
Catherine, Matt, and Greg joined them.
"Lauren, we don't have any—"
"Oh my goodness, are you those folks from the news this morning?"
Sara, who had been looking Lauren in the eye as they headed out the door, looked up to nothing. She looked down, and there was a tiny old woman, big blue eyes behind large glasses.
"Umm…I…yes, we are I guess…"
"You poor dears," She frowned. "Herb!" she snapped, twisting her head behind her. "Herb, get over here!"
An old man, Sara's height, headed over, stuffing a stick of bacon into his mouth.
"What's wrong, Rosie?"
"Herb, these are those people that were in that crash, remember?"
"Oh…yes…hello there." Herb waved his large hand at them.
"Hi," they said, returning the wave with modest smiles.
"My goodness, look at you dears!" Rosie said. "You must have been starving there…" She reached out and took Sara's hand, examining her bony fingers and thin wrist. She then put one hand in front of Sara's stomach and the other on her back, measuring the distance with her index finger. "My goodness…you need to get a bit of meat on your bones after that. We'll get you some bacon and eggs if you like, dear."
"I'm…I'm a vegetarian." Sara said uneasily.
"Oh, well that explains it."
Rosie bent down to Lauren.
"Now what was it you were fussing about, sweetums?"
Lauren put on her best pitiful face and said, "I want the dolly chain."
"Herb, gimme your wallet!"
"Now, Rosie, they obviously didn't want her to have it."
"Nonsense! This little girl just lost…well, you know…gimme your wallet!"
Herb rolled his eyes but reached into his back pocket.
"How much was that trinket she wanted?" Rosie asked them.
"Umm…it…it was…$6.50, but you—" Sara answered, still trying to recover from her invasion of personal space by a complete stranger.
"Is there a reason you didn't get it?" Rosie interrupted flatly, perusing through her husband's wallet.
Catherine responded, "We don't have any cash."
"Well in that case," Rosie pulled out a small wad of cash. "Take fifty."
"Oh, you…you don't have to." Catherine said breathlessly
"Take it! Take it or I'll be insulted! You can buy some cover-up for those black eyes, I know I would."
She thrust the money into Catherine's hand then bent down to Lauren again.
"You go get that little thing you wanted, sweetums. You need it, I can tell."
"What do you say, Lauren?" Sara whispered, nudging the girl softly in the side.
"Thank you!"
The group's plane had passed over the Nevadan border at about 6:00 pm. It was now 6:15. Lauren and Matt sat next to each other, Mrs. Ferguson sitting between them. Sara, Greg, and Catherine were in one row, in that order, with Sara at the window, while Brass and Ecklie sat one row ahead of them. The airplane was only about half-full, and thankfully people were refraining from interrogating them about their little escapade.
Lauren was playing with her hula doll chain on the tray in front of her and Matt was coloring in an activity book. Mrs. Ferguson was sleeping between the two, and was beginning to snore.
After the gift-shop, they had headed in separate directions. Greg had taken Matt surfing and Sara and Catherine had taken Lauren to her first spa treatment. Afterwards they had sat around in their rooms, just hanging out, reading books or playing Playstation. (Greg lost to Catherine as well)
The seatbelt light blinked on suddenly, stirring them all out of their tired stupors.
"Attention to passengers. This is your pilot speaking. It's a calm evening in Nevada this evening. I'd like to alert you all for landing. Seatbelts on, trays up."
They mumbled tiredly as they arranged themselves. Sara peeked out her window at nearby shining lights. And not just shining lights, an entire portrait of lights upon lights upon lights, lighting up an entire city with their multi-colored rays. Hello, Las Vegas.
Excitement began to claw at their stomachs as the plane tilted down slightly. The swooping feeling caught in their stomachs as it tilted even more. Pressure began to build behind their ears. The flaps on the wings lowered, emitting flapping noises. Their ears felt plugged, and their insides continued to squirm.
Further down the plane went, the strange feelings of landing swimming through their bodies. Then it landed. The airplane jiggled for a couple of moments, then slowed down to an easy stop, gliding across the landing strip and slowing to a halt.
"Please remain seated until the stewardess approves for your exit."
More butterflies flooded into their stomachs.
Five minutes later, as they packed up, the stewardesses began to wave the passengers off the airplane.
The squirming in the pits of their stomachs was now becoming a little too much. What was the big deal? They were home. They shouldn't be nervous.
A female flight attendant waved at them as they made their way down the aisle and to the hallway leading out of the gate, her bright red lipstick showing off her brilliantly white teeth. The floor was a generic, rough carpet, smelling freshly cleaned. The walls seemed flimsy, held together by long strips of metal and screws. Lauren, back with Mrs. Ferguson and carrying a small backpack on her back released the older woman's hand and skipped up to Sara and Catherine's sides.
"Who is going to be out there?" she asked.
Sara responded with a slightly shaky voice. "Umm, some friends of ours, and some of your family will probably be there."
"Oh…"
As they stepped down the hallway it seemed to grow narrower and longer, like it would never end. With every step they took it seemed to only get farther away. Catherine swallowed, trying to ease her dry throat and get her tongue down from the roof her mouth. This stupid cotton-packed nose was really bugging her.
They reached a turn in the hallway and when they followed it, a bit of light shown in at them. Catherine, Sara, and Lauren stepped out at the same time. Two seconds passed, before shouts of "Mom!" filled the air and Catherine was catapulted about three feet backwards.
"Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" Lindsey had clamped her arms around her mother's neck and was now squeezing her closely, rocking back and forth and tears beginning to stream down her face.
"H-Hey, Lindsey." Catherine stammered, partially senseless at the abruptness of her daughter's appearance. She put her arms around her back and held her in return. "Hey there…I missed you…" She sounded choked up, and her bottom lip began to tremble past her wide smile as a single tear overflowed from her blue eyes.
"I thought you were gone!" Lindsey sobbed. "I thought I was going to be all alone. My friends kept talking about what it would be like if I was an orphan! Mom! I'm so glad you're home…I'm so glad you're home…"
Sara and Greg were smiling, the twisting feeling in their stomach drifting away like they did as Catherine's mother moved towards her open-armed, also crying. They looked over towards the rest of the airport, glimpsing around before catching sight of a small mass of people heading towards them.
Sara and Greg couldn't conceal their grins as they reunited. Grissom came forward first, hooking both of them around the shoulders at the same time and pulling them forward in a strong hug, mumbling about how they tried so hard to find them, and how things had gone from bad to worse when the storm had come and made rescue air travel unsafe. His eyes held a sort of relieved brightness in them blinding the dim, worry that had dwelled in them the four days they had been missing.
Nick came forward next, giving Sara a heartfelt hug and then giving Greg a firm hand-clap, one-armed, back-pat, man-hug. Warrick did the same.
Next to them, another small group of people was picking over Lauren and Matt, lathering on the hugs and kisses. A young boy, older than Lauren but younger than Matt was trying to convince him to skip around. Two teenage girls were fussing over Lauren, who was enjoying the attention profusely. An early-forties couple was trying to squish in to greet their relatives past their children's attention-giving arms.
"You won't believe what sort of stuff happened on that island." Greg declared as Catherine convinced her family to let her join them. She too hugged the rest of them, holding each of them for thirty seconds at least. Brass also met up with them, shared a couple of words with Grissom and then leaning against the back of a chair with the other man.
"Well don't start now," Nick said through his smile, "We—"
But he was interrupted when Lauren and Matt's uncle spoke up. "Umm…are, are you those folks that helped find the crash site?"
"Well, it wasn't really us. Mostly people who are trained to do that sort of stuff." Nick replied to the man.
"But you helped?"
Nick looked around at Warrick and Grissom.
"Yes, we helped." Grissom replied, a small smile amongst his beard.
"Thank you…I can't thank you enough. We…we're upset over…over Lily and Joe, but…but at least Lauren and Matthew are all right." he said breathlessly. "And thank you," He turned to Sara, Catherine, and Greg.
"For what?" Sara inquired, raising an interested eyebrow.
"For watching over Lauren and Matthew the way you did."
Catherine replied, "It was nothing, what were we supposed to do, leave them out there to fend for themselves?"
The man opened his mouth respond but Lauren interrupted, having managed her way out of her cousin's grasp, if only for a minute.
"Sawa, this is my Uncle Ralph. And that's my cousin Libby and my cousin Samantha and my cousin Michael." The three cousins waved at them, smiling. "And that's my Aunt Diana. She likes piggies, remember?"
Sara smiled.
"I remember."
The older teenager, Libby, bent down and lifted Lauren off the ground again.
"She's cute," Sara said, still smiling with her arms folded across her chest.
Libby replied with a small, shy, thank you, and Lauren said, "I sure am so cute!"
That caused them all to laugh.
"We have another plane to catch," Ralph declared. "Again, thank you. And…and if any of you want to…to keep in…touch, I-I could take your addresses or something, letters. Matt knows how to read pretty well. Emails would be fine but, but you don't have to."
"Oh, uh…sure…gimme a…gimme a pen or something, will somebody?" Sara said, glancing around.
Grissom pulled a pen out of his pocket and gave it to Sara. Ralph held out his hand, and Sara wrote across the surface of it.
"That's the address to our work. They'll divvy it up there." She smiled at Lauren. "Keep it touch?"
"You can come to my house." Lauren said, smiling. "We can play house."
Sara grinned. "We could do that. Who do I get to be?"
"The mommy." Lauren beamed.
Matt stepped up to them all, shy and quiet as usual.
"Goodbye," he said softly. "I'm going to miss you. You're really nice."
Catherine was whispering in Lindsey's ear fervently. Lindsey's mouth formed an 'oh' shape and she turned to Matt after he had given Sara and Greg tight hugs.
"Hi Matt. I'm Catherine's daughter, Lindsey. Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Umm…" He looked over his shoulder at his family. They nodded.
The two walked off to a couple of empty seats.
Catherine watched them for a moment, faint smile on her face. A few minutes later, Lindsey returned, grinning slightly.
"I did what you said…I hope I didn't make him feel worse or something…" she whispered.
"You did great, honey." Catherine rubbed her back as Matt returned to his new parents, who had begun to talk to Mrs. Ferguson who had finally made her way over now that greetings were done with. The group walked away, the backs of the two children they had watched so carefully over disappearing past a corner, most likely never to be seen again.
"What was that about?" Sara asked Catherine.
She shrugged and then whispered, "I thought Lindsey might have been somebody for Matt to talk to. She was about his age after all."
"Hey, where's Ecklie?" Grissom finally noted after they shared a few bits of chatter.
They looked around, then Sara spotted him, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, arms folded and looking out of it. She headed over to him.
"Hey, you do know that we're sort of waiting for you?"
Ecklie looked up, slightly startled.
"Oh…uhh…sorry, about…that. Umm…yeah, I'll…I'm coming, I'm coming." He turned and Sara fell into stride with him.
"You okay?"
He looked at her.
"Umm…yes…."
"You seem out of it."
"I'm tired."
"You slept in this morning."
"I'm still tired." They walked slower, and Ecklie added, "You know Sara…I have a feeling, that when people are placed out of their usual environment, into a place where they really don't want to be, their personality alters for the worse under that stress. I think it alters almost to an unbearable degree."
Sara stopped and turned to face Ecklie, who also stopped.
"And…and on that island, I think that's what happened. That's what caused the tension."
Sara could hardly believe her ears. Was it really true? Was he really berating himself to somebody not the sheriff?
"And for that, I'd just like you to know…"
Sara tried to conceal her eager grin. This was too much.
"I forgive you."
Sara blinked and the grin faded.
"Oh. Oh, umm…thanks Ecklie." She put on a false smile. "Thanks a lot for that."
She placed her hands into her pocket and strode over to the rest of the group, Ecklie following her with a self-satisfied look. It sounded as if they were talking about how they were getting home, and Nick said something Sara couldn't hear, but made the rest of the group chuckle with laughter.
"We should probably start headin' out to the cars." Nick said as the rest of them tried to stop chuckling. "And we can hear all about whatever the heck happened on that island as soon as we get to my place."
"W-w-wait…your place?" Warrick answered as they headed out. "No way man, who knows what creepy stuff is in there. Let's go to my house. Tina could cook something up, I'm sure she can cook better than you or takeout."
"Why don't we all go to the lab and settle in and talk in the breakroom?" Grissom offered, though the tone of his voice showed that it was the final decision.
"But I want to know some stuff!" Nick cried, looking over his shoulder as they passed the luggage claim.
"Like what?"
"For one thing, who went skinny-dipping first?"
"Nick!" Sara laughed, kicking at him. "Nobody!"
Nick looked slyly at Warrick. "That's what they say,"
"We'll spill everything in the car…" Catherine smiled, pushing open the clear glass doors into the darkened parking lot.
"Can we do it in one car trip?" Greg said as Grissom and Warrick led them over towards the parked Tahoe and another car beside it. Brass entered the second car, Warrick, Ecklie, and Grissom, following him in.
"I don't know, can you?" Nick answered, unlocking the Tahoe and climbing in the driver's seat.
"Where should we start Greg?" Sara asked him, clambering up to the passenger side. Greg piled into the back with Catherine, Lindsey, and Catherine's mother.
"I don't know…what about how we saved Ecklie's life about ten times?"
"What about the fact that he might have a giant hickey?" Catherine offered.
Sara and Greg smirked as Nick chuckled and started the vehicle. He eased the Tahoe out of the parking lot, into the steady fast stream of traffic.
"How about the dolphins?" Greg offered.
"Or…what about the madman?"
"No, too morbid. What about Lauren and her colorful vocabulary?"
"I think when you two decide on something we're going to know everything that happened." Catherine's mother declared, smiling.
"You pick something." Greg offered.
"I have an idea." Nick declared as he halted at a stoplight.
"What's that?" Catherine said.
"Start from the beginning…"
Sara smiled, seated sideways in her seat to face the group in the backseat
"All right then. Umm…it started out with Ecklie annoying the crap out of me…"
And for the entire car ride after that, they went over almost every detail they could recall.
Almost.
The End
Authors Goodbyes:
Well, it's over. No, there will not be an epilogue. And I highly highly doubt there will be a sequal, because it will have to be full of angst and I do not like, nor do I write (well) angst. So, I tried to make the last chapter all happy days and joyful hoorays. Hey, that rhymes!I've been writing this thing since June, and it all came about because I know that people have always wondered what would happen if the CSI's became stranded, and to my knowledge, never attempted to write it. So I did.
Special thanks to ALL of my reviewers. There are too many of you to name. This story is the most popular story I've ever written and my personal favorite (My vegetable series is close behind Waffle, don't worry) If you wantsome more of mysense of strange humor you can check out that vegetable series. It'sstrange,and yet hilarious.
Farewell! I'll miss you all, but I feel so self-satisfied with thecompletion of thisfanfiction. It was 118 written pages long!I darned well be satisfied:) Bye everyone! (My goal is 200 reviews, can I make it? Won't be hard. I only need one.)