They did not need to run far. They crossed the rise into the grassy plain beyond, and in the darkness Sara could just make out Nick at the bottom of a rocky slope, crouched beside someone. They rushed to his side, and when they reached him Sara's chest suddenly twisted.
"Oh no …" Grissom breathed, face contorting.
It was Sofia. She lay slumped on her side, her body sickeningly limp and twisted, her deathly pale face looking ghostly in the starlight. Her hair was slick with blood oozing from the side of her head, and Sara thought for a moment that she was dead, until Nick spoke.
"She's alive," he reported, shifting over to let Grissom in, "but barely. Pulse is faint, she's stone cold, looks as if she's been here a while."
Grissom quickly fished a pen light out of a pocket, shining it onto her. He felt her pulse, and then raised one of her eyelids, checking the reaction of her pupils to light.
"It looks bad," he said.
He fell silent, appearing to think fast.
"Nick – run back to the house. Get a blanket for a stretcher, and anything we can use to brace her."
"It's risky to move her," Sara said, as Nick left.
"I know," Grissom replied. "But we can't leave her out here."
He pulled his hands away from her, knowing that the slightest touch could inadvertently kill her.
"She's wearing a PD windbreaker," Warrick said slowly, eyes on Sofia's jacket. "High visibility – means she was probably out looking for us." His eyes drifted from Sofia to the slope behind her. "Maybe she took a fall. Head wound's consistent with striking a rock -"
"And I don't see anyone else out here," Catherine said, glancing around. "She must've arrived here the same way we did – however that was."
"It's not important," Grissom said, looking too scared to care. "Right now, let's just focus on keeping her alive."
A moment later Nick returned, passing an armful of blankets and towels to Grissom.
"How do you want to do this?" Warrick asked.
"Slowly and carefully," Grissom replied. "We need to be sure of her injuries so that they can be properly braced and immobilised – otherwise we may end up causing her more harm when we move her. And that means we need to perform a secondary examination, check for fractures and any sign of bleeding."
"I'll do it," Sara quickly volunteered.
She felt a surge of protectiveness over the helpless woman at her feet. The last thing Sofia needed was the men all stripping her naked between them. Sara had done a first aid course once, back at the Academy, and roughly knew the drill.
"I'll give you a hand," Catherine said. She looked to the men. "Why don't you guys give us some space a minute."
Grissom nodded. "All right. Call out when you're ready."
They disappeared up the slope, and then over the other side.
"She's ice cold," Sara said, touching the pulse at her neck. "We'd better make this quick."
"Hold her head," Catherine replied, taking out her own pen light. "You keep her still."
It was hard to hold her head without touching the flowing blood, but after easing Sofia's long hair back out of the way, she managed it, and held her still.
Catherine worked quickly. She started with Sofia's head, examining her skull for possible fracture, and then moved down over her neck to her torso. She unzipped Sofia's windbreaker and unbuttoned the black blouse beneath before spreading the sides.
Sara felt a stab of shock. "Oh my God –"
Sofia's chest and abdomen were covered in bruises. Though they were mild, the discolouration light, they were widespread enough that Sara knew that if Sofia had been conscious, she would have been in agony. They lay in patchy blotches over her shoulders, and then deeper on her abdomen, spreading under her zipped pants.
Catherine looked speechless, and after a moment, pushed up Sofia's shirt at the back to reveal more of the same.
"Maybe she took a tumble," Sara suggested faintly.
"Or one of her suspects roughed her up," Catherine replied, looking equally puzzled.
They moved on, checking over Sofia's arms, legs and pelvis, until they were sure that the only major injury they could find was to her head, and then redressed her before calling the men back.
"What did you find?" Grissom asked. "I heard you talking."
"I'll show you later," Catherine replied, taking the blanket and unrolling it. "She's okay to move. We'll have to brace her head and spine, but she should be okay."
They carried her back to the house on the blanket and set her down on the couch. They put a clean towel underneath her to catch any blood, and in case she vomited, and then braced her in position with blankets and rolled up towels along her neck and spine, keeping her on her side. Sara hurriedly went to the kitchen and fetched an empty bucket from under the sink, placing it on the floor nearby for use if she woke, and Catherine took charge of a damp washcloth to dab gently at the head wound and the blood soaking her long blonde hair.
Grissom still looked stricken. Sara laid a hand on his arm.
"She needs a doctor, Griss," Warrick pointed out. "The time she's been unconscious, whatever's wrong with her isn't anything we're equipped to deal with here. We need to get her to a hospital."
"She's not showing any signs of waking up," Nick said, looking equally scared. "If we're going to save her life we may not have much time."
"Maybe we should leave now," Sara said, a heavy feeling in her stomach. "Take the road in the other direction –"
Grissom turned to look at her, eyes widening at the suggestion.
"And hike out?" he asked.
"I don't think there's a choice," Sara said gently.
She knew he was worried; worried about how exhausted they all were, that all of them could barely stand, let alone hike for any distance, for help that might be a hundred miles away. As a scientist she knew the adrenaline they all felt would help, but only for so long. After that, sheer physical exhaustion would take over. And yet, despite knowing that, the thought of leaving a colleague to die was not an option. Sara had to know that they had done all they could, if the worst was to happen, and that was likely.
"I know it's a risk, but we can't leave her to die here," Sara said. "We may feel better in the morning, but she may not make it that long."
"Exactly," Warrick said. "And I don't want to be burying her in the morning if she doesn't, digging her a grave outside. I couldn't live with that on my conscience."
Grissom had no words; he looked pained – torn between losing Sofia, a solid friend, and the risk of losing Sara, his lover – and finding neither option acceptable.
"Catherine?" Nick prompted.
His eyes searched hers, wondering if she was with them. Catherine put the damp washcloth aside and slowly stood.
"Do you think you can make it?" she asked.
"We can make it," Nick said emphatically, not hesitating. "I'm fit. I know Warrick is –"
Catherine looked to Sara, and despite the fact that her leg muscles felt like jelly, she nodded too. One way or another, they had to make it, and she knew it was down to her, Nick and Warrick to do it. She loved Grissom, but knew the truth was he was unfit, and that Catherine too was dead on her feet. If they did not go, did not find a way, they would be burying Sofia's body in a makeshift grave come morning. The thought tore her up, not only for the thought of losing a colleague, but for the knowledge of how deeply she knew it would affect Grissom.
"I'll be fine," she said.
Catherine nodded; she looked to Grissom, but he still hadn't found words, tormented.
"Take water and blankets," she said. "And don't take risks. If you feel too tired to go any further, just stop and rest. We need you to make it alive."
Sara nodded. She felt as if she had a block of lead in her stomach.
"I'll go get some more blankets," Nick said. "We don't have any time to lose."
It all happened fast. Minutes later Nick appeared with a blanket for each of them, and Catherine had refilled their water bottles. Sara took a last parting glance at Sofia, deathly pale and bleeding into the towel on the couch, and hoped to hell that she would survive the night. The thought of having to face Brass, of having to face Sofia's family, and having to help Grissom through his grief was more than she could bear.
"Don't you worry about a thing," Nick told her, bending down to gently touch Sofia's shoulder. "We'll be back with help. You just hang in there."
Sofia gave no indication she had heard him, or even knew they were there.
They headed out onto the verandah, and Grissom took Sara's arm, steering her to a spot a few feet away.
"Sara –"
He looked lost for words, his eyes wracked with pain, and with fear for her. He held out his hands helplessly in front of him.
"I know," she said tenderly.
She felt equally torn up inside, and wondered how long it would be before she would next see him, and if he would survive the next few hours if Sofia died. Sara steeled herself; she had to trust that Catherine would keep it together, and was strong enough to handle whatever came.
"I'll be back," she promised, taking his hand in hers.
She sensed the others a few feet away, waiting for her.
"Be careful," he said softly, at last finding words.
"It'll be fine," she said, and she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips briefly held his, and he kissed her back, for the first time not caring that they were doing it in front of the team. When they broke apart, the stricken look in his eyes remained, and it pained her, cutting her soul.
Reluctantly she crossed to Catherine, who had already hugged the others, and now moved to hug Sara.
"Don't worry," Catherine said in her ear. "I'll take care of everything."
She knew from the look in Catherine's blue eyes that she did not just mean Sofia. Sara nodded, grateful.
"You two take care of each other," Nick said, walking down the stairs to the ground. "With a little luck we'll be back in a few hours. It won't be long."
"Put your feet up," Warrick said, with ease of confidence. "It'll all be fine."
Sara held Grissom's eyes for another second before she turned to leave with them, and when she did, pain wrenched her. She headed for the driveway with Nick and Warrick, unable to look back, knowing if she did she may not leave at all. But she had to leave, had to find a way out, and had to find help. There was no other way.
She took a deep breath, and with steely determination, headed for the road.
I honestly felt sorry for Grissom while writing this part. I honestly think it would be a very hard thing to feel that kind of helplessness in watching someone you know dying before your eyes - regardless of whether you consider them a friend or just a colleague. It'd be difficult. In any case, story's speeding up now. Would love to hear people's thoughts!