Chapter 12: Keys

(Hodges)

He followed his designated path all the way to its designation, a locked door.

"Seriously?" he complained to no one in particular.

As he looked around for a solution, an idea dawned on him. He reached into his pants pocket and removed the key that unlocked his hand cuffs. It slid perfectly into the lock and he opened the door.

"Oh my god! Wendy!" he yelled, staring in shock at the DNA tech.

"Hodges!" she screamed, terror shining in her eyes. He entered the room, staring at the device Wendy was restrained to…it looked like a large waffle iron. There was a tape player on the floor, and he played it.

"Glad to see you found your way, David Hodges. It seems to us like your girlfriend here has found herself in a predicament, and it is up to you to save the damsel in distress. The device she is attached to is also connected to the lock box on the floor. To save Wendy, you must unlock the box and power down the device."

"What?" he asked, looking to the box on the ground.

"The key to her salvation is in this room, but be careful." the tape continued. "Every incorrect insertion will result in an electric shock, which will intensify in length, voltage, and amperage every time the wrong key is inserted. We wish you the best of luck, for she is very beautiful, and it would be a shame for her to die at your hands. Let the game begin."

"Get me out of here! Please, Hodges!" Wendy cried.

"I will, I will! I promise you." he replied, looking around for a key. He spotted a tile on the floor that was broken at one of its corners. He quickly tore off the tile and looked down a small hole. It was too dark to see anything, inside, so he reached down and pulled out another box. He opened it and found dozens of keys inside, possibly hundreds!

"There's no way I can try all of these without killing you!" he blurted, frantically looking up at Wendy.

"You have to try! Hodges, you have to!" she pleaded desperately. He returned to the lockbox and picked up a random key.

"Luck of the draw?" he asked, glancing up at Wendy.

"Sure." she said, on the verge of tears.

He looked at the key he had tightly gripped in his hand. "Please work." he quietly prayed, inserting the key. It barely went in the lock and Wendy gasped in pain.

"Oh god, are you okay?" he asked, his heart pounding.

"Yeah, I'm…it wasn't that bad." she said, taking a shaky breath.

"I can't do this. I can't hurt you like this." he said, tossing the key away like it was poisoned.

"You have to! We don't know what will happen if you don't." she said.

He readied himself and tried another key, cringing as he heard Wendy yelp.

"I'm sorry." he apologized, swallowing to try and moisten his dry mouth.

"I know you are. Keep trying." she said. He simply looked at her, wondering why she wasn't freaking out.

"I can handle it." she said, almost like she had read his mind. He grabbed another key and it only slid in about halfway.

"No!" he yelled out in fear and anger, watching as Wendy was electrocuted again, trying not to cry out. He tried another key and Wendy was again shocked.

"I can't do this anymore!" he yelled, throwing the key aside.

"Hodges, look at me." Wendy said, her voice having a pained tone that sounded like nails on a chalkboard to him. He didn't want to look at her, but he did.

"You have to. You need to." she said.

"I could kill you." he replied, his mouth agape at her request.

"You can save me!" she countered, still trying to catch her breath. He looked at the box of keys and dumped it onto the floor. He quickly snatched up the last key he used, which had gone in the farthest, and began separating the pile.

"Yeah, that's it! Good!" Wendy cheered, getting his idea. There were a dozen or so keys that had a similar pattern like the one he had used.

"I don't think you can survive all of these." he said.

"You have to try! Maybe you'll get lucky." she said.

'Nice word choice.' he thought, slowly trying one of the keys. He could feel sweat forming on his brow, and he prayed this key would work.

The familiar electrical hum became more pronounced and Wendy screamed, her eyes squeezing shut as her body jerked against the restraints. This shock was lasting long…longer than the others…too long.

When it stopped, Wendy remained still, her eyes closed, her body limp.

"Wendy?" he called, feeling his pulse quicken in fear. She didn't reply and he moved to the waffle iron thing.

"W-Wendy?" he repeated softly, feeling as if his heart had stopped. The device was still active, so he couldn't check her pulse without getting electrocuted, and he hated it. He looked around the room, noticing the camera watching them. He wanted to scream and throw something at it, but he was too emotionally spent to do anything. Wendy could still be alive, but he couldn't do anything to save her; another wrong key would result in certain death if she wasn't dead already.

"Wait a minute." he said, looking back at the door he had come through. "The key! The key!"

He ran to the door, removed the key, and returned to the lock box on the floor. Crouching in front of it, he cautiously slid the key in, ecstatic when it went in all the way and clicked. He turned it and the lock popped open.

"Yes! Thank you!" he breathed, opening the box. There was an on/off switch, like a light switch. He flicked it to 'off' and could hear the device power down. His body was starting to come off the adrenaline and he exhaled a nervous discharge from the sudden stop of secreting glands. He went to the device Wendy was still attached to and tentatively tapped it, relieved it was incapable of shocking him, and undid her bindings.

He checked for a pulse and let out the breath he had been holding when he found one. It was rapid and irregular, but it was there.

"Come on, Wendy. Please wake up. Please be okay." he whispered, cupping her face in his hands,

(Grissom)

"Do you think Archie's okay?" Greg asked, breaking the silence as they wandered around the halls.

"He's fine, Greg." Grissom replied.

"What if there was no help at those buildings you saw? What if something happened to him?" Greg asked.

"Greg!" he snapped, a little harshly. The two stopped, forced to look at each other.

"I'm sorry. Archie is fine. He's probably found help long ago and Brass knows, and he's sending half the force out here." he said in a much calmer tone.

"Unless Brass is trapped here, too. Who knows who else is in this death trap." Greg added. Grissom didn't want to think about who else could be stuck here, and what they were going through.

Greg suddenly hissed in pain and the duo stopped their barely-started advance forward.

"What is it?" he asked, looking for a sudden spurt of blood, or a rash to suddenly appear.

"It's nothing. Pain is normal in a broken bone." Greg replied, trying to avoid a potentially fatal situation.

The kid probably hadn't meant to, but those words hit him hard, making him feel even more guilty than before.

"Let's sit you down." he said, lowering Greg to the floor.

"Griss, I'm fine." Greg insisted.

"Besides the pain and swelling, what else have you noticed about your hand or foot?" he asked after seeing no other wounds.

"I got that pins and needles feeling going up my leg." Greg said after a small, hesitant pause. "y arm is fine, but my hand just felt like it was on fire." he continued.

"Damn…" Grissom muttered under his breath. "I was afraid of this."

"What? What is it?" Greg asked, looking more worried.

"Compartment Syndrome." he replied, closing his eyes briefly.

"Shit…okay, best case scenario, what? I can still do my job?" Greg asked.

He opened his eyes again, looking into Greg's fearful expression.

"Best case scenario, you get treated in time and after months of physical therapy, you can go back to work." he said, letting the diagnosis roll off his tongue.

"And the worst case?" Greg asked after a pause.

'I wish you hadn't asked that.' he thought, looking away for a microsecond. "Worst case scenario, you're arm and leg will have to be amputated…I'm sorry." he sadly said, placing a firm, but hopefully reassuring hand on his younger coworker's shoulder. The kid looked lost, like he was about to cry.

"No…I'm going to be fine. I'll bounce back, Grissom. I always have." Greg assured as a tear slid down his cheek.

"Then let's get the hell out of here. Whenever you need to stop and take a break, Greg, you tell me. Understand?" he asked, putting Greg's arm around his neck.

"Crystal clear, boss." Greg replied.

He lifted Greg to his feet…well, foot, and they continued to hobble down the never-ending hallway. A noise was softly bouncing off the walls, and they stopped yet again.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Sounds like…nusic." Greg answered.

"Yeah." he agreed with a small nod. They followed the tune and found its source.

"It's coming from behind this door." Grissom said, cautiously pushing it open with the bolt cutters he still kept with him.

A single light bulb flickered on, and the two of them laid eyes on a man shackled to the wall. Static and feedback whined through the tiny room, waking the man, and ending the music. Grissom noticed an older type of INTERCOM in one corner, and yet another camera in a different corner.

"Hello, Lawrence Gordon." a voice said over the speaker. This voice, unlike the ones on the TV and tapes, wasn't garbled by a voice changer.

"No way." Greg exclaimed.

'Lawrence Gordon's been alive all this time?' he thought, watching the Jigsaw survivor curiously.

"I'd like you to meet two of the seventeen people your accomplices abducted while you were locking me away." the voice said as Lawrence Gordon tried to struggle free. "Resistance won't do you any good. That sedative gave me enough time to triple-check the room for any ways of escape. See, unlike you, I play the games the way we were meant to."

The chained Jigsaw survivor groaned as he gave up pulling on the chain.

"Do you remember our talk earlier? I told you I wasn't going to kill you." the mysterious man behind the INTERCOM continued.

"Yeah, I remember. You also said you were going to give me a chance!" Lawrence yelled at the camera.

"I'm a man of my word, Lawrence. The choice won't be up to me, though. It's up to…Mr. Grissom, and Mr. Sanders. Now, before you go ahead and cut his chains with those bolt cutters, Gilbert, you and Gregory should know something. Mr. Dawson, and Ms. Sidle are dead, and Lawrence here is responsible for their deaths…Let the game begin."