Author's note: Yes, I know it is short, but if it's any consolation there will be an update incredibly soon, especially considering i am in the process of writing the 20th chapter...anyhow, Chapter 18 will thicken things up even more. I consider this chapter the calm before the storm of reviews screaming "UPDATE!".
Special Thanks to El Gringo Loco for helping to make this story believable.
Spoilers: I will generally tell what spoilers the chapters contain. In this Chapter: not a lot
Summary: When Ecklie chooses Grissom's team to head to a conference in London, the Las Vegas CSI nightshift couldn't be more excited. Then their plane crashes in the sea. Now Grissom, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Sara, and Greg are stranded on a deserted island and their only way home is to survive.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI.
Surviving the Storm
Chapter 17: Preparations
"Would you get out of the raft?" Nick asked, crossly, looking back at a sheepish-looking Greg Sanders.
"What? It's not like I'm heavy or anything!" Greg protested. He was seated in the raft while the others pulled him along in the shallows of the water.
"Greg! Out! Now!" Grissom ordered, and the former lab rat could not do anything but obey.
"You'd think they'd let the sickie ride in the raft," he mumbled as he clamoured out of the raft and into the cool water.
"Oh, now you want to play the 'I was sick' card?" Catherine asked with raised eyebrows. He shook his head and walked beside Sara, who grinned at him. Nick and Grissom were in front, pulling the raft filled with food, water, and some of the supplies that they wouldn't be needing at the moment. Warrick and Catherine pulled a bundle of floating coconuts behind them, while Greg and Sara walked in the middle, lending a hand here and there, or in Greg's case, hitching a ride.
For the past two days, they had been gathering as much food as possible and storing as much water as possible inside hollowed out coconut shells. They only kept about half of what they gathered and the rest went to the raft. Today, they were making the journey to the water caves to stow their bulging raft. The guys no longer went on individual hunts. Instead, all six of them went to gather or do walk-throughs of the island. Even Greg was allowed to come, providing he took it easy. Grissom was starting to become annoyed with this fact.
"Are we there yet?" Greg whined.
"Almost," Warrick said patiently, for he was the only one capable of a pleasant response to that question. Since their stay on the island, Grissom and Nick's tolerance levels had decreased drastically. As for Catherine and Sara, they had always been two with very short fuses.
Warrick was right, however. Within minutes, they had arrived at the cliff-like formation. A hill led up to the top of the cliff, but the CSIs were more concerned with the rocky formations under the cliff, where the water was deeper and where it meant concealment.
"We're going to have to swim underneath it," Nick said as the water levels changed from above him knees to above his waist.
"If there's sharks under there, I'll kill you," Catherine threatened, but she swam anyways. Sara had moved to help Grissom and Nick swim with the raft, while Greg helped Warrick and Catherine with the strung-up bundle of coconuts. Grissom and Warrick navigated a safe path through the rocks and under the cliff. Soon they had entered a cave large enough to conceal the raft.
"Alright, Nick, Greg, tie these to those rocks," Grissom called handing them a pair of ropes. Nick tied his to a formation skinny on the bottom and fatter on the top. Using a combination of his knowledge of the Discovery Channel and his old Boy Scout training, he tied it. Greg looped his around one piece of rock and then strung it around another for safekeeping.
"Got it!" Greg called when he had finished.
"Good! Cath, pass me your rope!" Grissom said. She gave him her piece and watch as he thread it though one of the loops on the raft, double knotting it. Then he said to Warrick, "Pass me yours," Warrick did so and Grissom did the same as he did for the first one.
"Can we get the Hell outta here, now?" Sara called. They all swam out in agreement.
"Do you think that will hold?" Catherine asked as they reached where they could touch the bottom.
"It had better," Nick smarted, "It's our only shot."
"It will," Grissom stated, "Come on. Lets go through the trees back to camp. We need to know more than one way to get here."
"We should probably see how long it would take us to get here in the event we are spotted," Warrick suggested.
"Like a drill?" Sara asked.
"Yeah," Warrick said, climbing up the hill to the cliff, "We wouldn't be able to leave unless we are all in the raft," he added, and everyone agreed with this statement. No one would be left behind.
"We also need to patrol the island for possible hiding spots, in case we are chased," Nick suggested.
"Good idea," Grissom agreed.
"And we could make traps to hinder the mobsters in the forest," Greg added, clearly excited about this.
"Er…another good idea," Grissom said hesitantly. Nick and Warrick obviously thought this was a good plan.
"We could make a trip wire!" Nick exclaimed.
"Right into the river!" Warrick added.
"Maybe block some paths," Greg injected.
"We could dig a pitfall," Nick suggested. Catherine and Sara looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
"Way too much testosterone," Catherine commented.
"Well, they need to work it off somehow," Sara agreed, and both women chuckled. Nick, Warrick, and Greg mapped out their plans all the way back to camp while Sara and Catherine teased them and Grissom led them quietly along.
The next four days moved quickly for the castaways. After breakfast they would go out and gather food and scope out hiding spots. It didn't take long for them to become familiar with the island. They knew where there were good hiding spots and what paths would provide the least resistance. Then Greg, Nick, and Warrick would disappear for hours in the brush, only appearing for meals. They created all sorts of trip ups for their enemies and then showed them to the others. There were pits, trip wires, falling rocks, blockades that could only be bypassed by swinging on the branch overhead, and little annoying things that they were sure their enemies would not appreciate. They also set up little safe points where the castaways could hide if need be.
While at camp, there would be basic chores being done, along with fashioning tools they would need. Grissom had made several paddles to be stored in the raft to aid in a quick getaway. Catherine often sat by him when he was at camp and would work on refining Warrick's fishing net. It still had his old blue shirt, but the stick were elongated and instead of just being held by the shirtsleeves, it was now woven at different points. On the rare occasions when the guys were at camp, they had made a small, portable raft made of sticks strung together. They claimed it could be used to hold a fire if they were out on the ocean.
Because they were hardly ever all at camp at once, they had worked out a system that if the criminals came and saw them, those on the beach would quickly make smoke by throwing palm leaves on the fire. This was also handy in enabling drills.
Not long after they had established this new order, Greg found himself running full tilt through the trees, bypassing his traps with ease. He ventured a look over his shoulder, but wound up running into the trip wire that sent him plummeting into the river. He got up, cursing, but he ran some more, fearing what could catch up to him. He was all alone, separated from Nick and Warrick when they saw the signal fire. If there was someone behind him…
"Shit," he muttered, just bypassing a blockade. Soon he reached the edge of the trees, and turned to slide down the hill on the edge of the cliff. He easily swung into the water and swam to the raft to find the other five already waiting. Grissom and Warrick helped him up.
"Are they here?" he panted.
"Nope, but we're going to have to do a Hell of a lot better than fifty-six minutes," Catherine quipped looking at the watch in her hand. Greg groaned. It was a drill. He flipped on his back, panting.
"What took you, Greggo?" Nick asked, looking down at his friend.
"Tripped the river trap," he breathed.
"Oh, and who said they weren't going to be dumb enough to get caught in his own traps?" Sara asked, rhetorically. He glared at her.
"It was better than the first drill, though," Grissom said positively, "Even if Greg did trip up."
"You wait, old man," Greg mumbled darkly.
"Who are you calling old, Greg?" Grissom asked, "I was the second one here and it was Catherine who called the drill."
"I smell conspiracy," Greg said scowling. Gil and Catherine exchanged looks.
"C'mon, let's go home," Warrick said, diving into the water. The other five followed suit.
TBC