Jim Brass wondered why big clues and case breaking moments inevitably happened at the end of shift. What terrible karma had been handed down to him that he wouldn’t be able to quit when he was at his most exhausted? It definitely had to be from another life, Brass thought, because I’ve been tooooo good in this one.
“Hey, hold up there!” Brass called out seeing Warrick. Nick and Greg heading for the building exit. They looked like they were all prepared to go home and get some rest and relaxation. Well forget it boys!
            The three CSIs watched warily as Brass approached them an evil smirk spreading upon his face. Brass clapped and clasped his hands in front him, rubbing them excitedly. Quitting time didn’t look good for the three of them.
            “What’s up Brass,” Warrick asked wanting to get to the pain of the matter.
            “I am heading out to the Silver Starr Ranch,” Brass said matter-of-factly.
            “Sounds like a brothel,” Nick teased Brass half heartedly since he wasn’t all too sure that it wasn’t a brothel.
            “True,” Brass pointed at Nick “but in this case it would be a tapped out silver mine that is owned by one Mary Starr.” Brass arched a brow knowingly.
            “Who’s Mary Starr?” Warrick asked more eager to know if the Silver Star was a brothel or not.
            “Well, Mary Starr has the distinct infamy of bearing the Bathory Brothers.”
            “Greg did a little research on the mom. Not a pretty story” Nick’s brows arched knowingly “Do we have anything else on the mom?”
            Brass shimmied his head. “Sofia’s been digging but so far all she has found is some worthless property.”
            “So where’s this mine at?’ Warrick asked knowing full well that there was no chance in Hell that they weren’t going out to the mine. It could be the big key to unlock their mysterious box.
            Brass reached in his coat pocket to get his notebook. “17017 Moorgate Mine Road, it’s off of Seven Sisters about four miles from where Gil was found.”
            “Awesome, let’s go!” Nick said forgetting about the ten hours of sleep he had planned. If this was the lead they needed to catch Bathory then that was all he needed.
            Brass followed the three men out into the morning sun. Pulling his sunglasses out of his breast pocket he said, “State troopers are on site and Sofia is on her way.”
            “Alright then let’s go,” Greg said with a hop in his step that matched the renewed energy of his co-worker.
            “I’ll meet you there. I was looking for Catherine since I know I will get my ass handed to me if she isn’t in on this.”
            “Morgue,” Warrick called over his shoulder as he, Nick and Greg loaded up into the black SUV parked nearby.
            Brass went in search of Catherine. After that he wanted to go by and pick up Grissom. If this was the place he was held he might be able to help them in the investigation. Brass wasn’t too keen on the idea of pulling Grissom back into the field so soon but since Under Sheriff McKeen had recently informed him that Grissom was going to be cleared for light duty there wasn’t much he could do about it.

            **************************************************************

            The sun was just clearing the horizon when Brass and Catherine pulled into the driveway of the safe house. It was the time of day when ordinary folks were getting their coffee for the road as they got ready to head to work. For Brass and Catherine it was just half time.
            “Why don’t you go wake sleeping beauty,” Brass teased “I’ll check in with the NEW guy,” he said, referring to the new officer he had placed on Grissom watch.
            Catherine gave him a look that said she questioned his motives for hanging back. “Coward,” she taunted with a smile.
            Catherine knocked on the side door before entering the kitchen. The lights were still off and it didn’t look like the man of the house had gotten up, yet. Good, Catherine thought, he needs his rest.
            Rounding the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen area from the living room, Catherine noticed that the patio door had been left open. Maybe Grissom was up and was just out on the patio, she thought heading over to the open door. Walking out onto the patio Catherine noted two glasses on the glass veranda table but what really caught her attention were the clothes lying on the backs of the deck chairs, especially the peach colored blouse with the CSI badge still clipped to it.
            “Uh-oh,” Catherine muttered her eyes wide. Gathering up the clothes she walked back into the house trying to figure out the most tactful way of handling this situation. Heading towards the bedrooms of the house she quickened her pace upon hearing Brass enter.
            “Make some coffee, Jim” she called out trying to stall for time.
            The house had three bedrooms but it wasn’t difficult to tell that Grissom had chosen the master bedroom and that that was the room in use. The other two bedroom doors stood wide open and vacant, while the master bedroom door was just slightly a jar. Catherine leaned her head in towards the door trying to hear if the occupants were awake or not. The last thing she wanted to do was walk in while Grissom and Sara were getting their groove on. Taking a deep breath she rapped lightly on the door.
            “Grissom, Sara,” she whispered not wanting to alert Brass to the situation but not knowing how it was going to be avoided.
            Catherine sighed inwardly as she poked her head in through the door. Lying in bed mostly covered Catherine thought, were Grissom and Sara asleep. Most of the bedding had ended up on the floor along with the rest of the unwanted clothing from the previous night.
            “Sara, Gil,” she whispered a little more forcefully as she laid the clothes she had collected on the back of a chair sitting near the bedroom door.
            Grissom’s sleep tousled head came up with a start from where it had been laying near Sara’s chest. His arm, lying across her rib cage, tightened protectively against the unknown as his startled gaze sought out the intrusion.
            Grissom frowned accusingly at Catherine.
            “Wake up sunshine,” she teased him.
            He dropped his head with a groan. “Sara, honey,” he said tiredly trying to shake the fog of sleep from his brain.
            “By the way, Brass is with me,” Catherine warned before shutting the door on the two lovers.
            Catherine had to control the giggle that was rising to the surface. It would be interesting to see how they handled this one, especially with Brass in the house. Exiting the hallway into the living area Catherine tried desperately to wipe the giant grin from her face. Taking a deep breath she just gave up and let the smile go from ear to ear.
            “What the hell has you so happy,” Brass asked from his seat at the breakfast bar. Her grin was contagious and he found himself smiling for an unknown reason. “Catch sweet pea in the buff back there?” he teased offering her a cup of coffee he had made in her absence.
            “Something like that,” Catherine said sipping the coffee trying not to break out in a case of the giggles.
            Brass raised a single brow over his own cup of coffee. “Really?” he questioned not sure what to make of Catherine’s unusual behavior.
            “Jim, all I’ve got to say is you better be good,” Catherine warned only half jokingly.
            Brass gave her his best rendition of who me?
            Grissom was the first to emerge from the bedroom, his hair still damp from the quick shower he had taken. Dressed casually in khakis with a white t-shirt covered by a button front denim colored shirt, Grissom looked like a man ready to sit down and enjoy a Sunday football game on the television. Catherine was surprised at how at ease he seemed and wondered if Sara was hiding in the bedroom or had escaped through the window. The picture that came to mind made Catherine duck her head in an attempt to hide her growing smile.
            “Morning,” Grissom greeted as he eyed Catherine with a devilish smirk on his face. He rounded the breakfast bar and headed for the coffee pot.
            Brass looked between Catherine, who was beginning to squeak in her attempt to hold onto her mirth and Grissom who had a definite swagger going on.
            “Ummm- I take it you had a good night’s sleep.” He said haltingly as he continued to look back and forth between the two CSIs.
            “Good night, yes, sleep…naw,” Grissom muttered into his coffee cup before pouring an additional cup.
            Catherine could not contain herself any longer. With a slap of her hands she began laughing, “You are sooo naughty, Gil.” She said her eyes tearing up at this unreserved side of her longtime friend.
            Brass was about to ask what the hell was going on when it became stunningly clear. Walking into the living area was Sara. Dressed in a simple white blouse and faded jeans, her damp hair pulled into a ponytail at the crown of her head showed the slight red tinge that was creeping up her neck.
            Brass’s mouth dropped wide open, a knowing but unbelieving look crossing his face.
            “OH-HO-HO,” he exclaimed spinning to look at Grissom.
            “Good morning,” Sara said to the gaping man as she went to take the coffee cup Grissom had ready for her.
            Grissom leaned forward, his elbows resting on the counter as he looked directly at Brass.
            “Jim,” he said in mock seriousness “you’re going to catch flies.”
            Brass snapped his mouth shut.
            Sara leaned against the counter behind Grissom, almost hiding. She was a little discomfited by being caught red-handed as it were. In fact she was having a very hard time finding anything benign to look at in the safe house without the blush rising higher in her face. The ALS would be blinding, she thought with a giddy flip-flop of her stomach.
            “Since you’ve ruined my morning plans,” Grissom continued. “Why don’t you tell me why you are here?”
            “What plans?” Sara asked. She had thought they were going to relax and enjoy a lazy day together.
            Grissom gave her a sideways look that had her blush reaching the tips of her ears. “Oh,” was all she could mutter as she turned away.
            Catherine clamped her hand down over her mouth in an attempt to save Sara some dignity. “Grissom,” she said in simulated rapprochement “behave!”
            Grissom wagged his eyebrows at Catherine who looked heavenward. The man had gone from borderline repressed to a devil-may-care Casanova
            If we can just get rid of that latent hostility that rears its ugly head, Catherine thought she could get use to this new Grissom. It would take a little while but he was actually kind of fun.
            “Well brother,” Brass said deciding he couldn’t put the ugliness off any longer “Sofia found an old silver mine registered in Bathory’s mother’s maiden name out near where the trooper found you.”
            Grissom’s smirk disappeared like vapor. “Did you find anyone? Anything?” he asked his voice devoid of emotion.
            “I wanted to know if you were up for a ride?” Brass asked seriously hoping that Grissom would say no, but knowing it would be more helpful to the investigation if he said yes.
            “Let’s go,” Grissom ordered leading the way from the house.

            *****************************************************************

            If Seven Sisters Road was desolate, Moorgate Mine Road was the dark side of the moon. The decades of limited use had reduced the road to nothing more than tire ruts. Catherine had had to keep her speed at a moderate pace for fear of shaking her teeth lose from her head as the dark SUV bobbed and bounced along the rutted road.
            “Damn,” Brass had muttered from the front passenger seat. To the three people in the truck with him it sounded like he was cursing the condition of the road but to Brass it was an exclamation in the unbelievable. If Grissom had come from the mine then it had been an act of divine intervention that he had survived, had been the thought running through Brass’s mind.
            Brass glanced in the backseat behind Catherine. Grissom had said very little on the trip to this lousy excuse of a road. Now he sat stone still gazing intently out the window. The only time he moved was two miles in, when they passed the remains of a wooden fence that had at one time crossed the road. On the partial sign, hanging half off a fence post read Silver Starr Mine in white letters that had almost been obliterated by the sun and elements.
            “Gil?” Brass asked a little concerned.
            Sara had been watching Grissom for awhile. His silence was becoming a little disconcerting. She had wanted to ask him if he was okay but had held back, feeling the edgy energy that surrounded him when he was lost in thought lately. Sara knew his behavior was related to his captivity, she had tried to get him to talk to her but he would always find away to change the subject.
            Now as she watched him she could see that the tense energy that vibrated off him like sound waves was manifesting itself into physical energy. His right hand fisted and flexed on the seat between them, his muscular forearms bulging with each fist he made. Sara for the first time since he had awoke in the hospital felt fear.
            “Gris,” she said lightly touching his flexing forearm.
            Grissom jerked his arm away, as if Sara’s touch burned him. His startled gaze looking first at his arm then at Sara, her dark gaze filled with worry.
            “What?” his confused frown told both her and Brass that he had not heard either one of them.
            “Do you recognize any of this?” he asked as the SUV crested a small rise to show the remnants of the mining operation.
            Grissom just shook his head in short quick motions. He didn’t recognize the house or the various buildings but he could feel it. He could feel the sickening blackness. It was there just out of his sight waiting to consume him, drag him under, suffocate him.

            Grisssssommmm

            Warrick, Nick and Greg were all leaning against their Denali, when Catherine pulled up and parked a couple yards away. Even before the truck had stopped fully Grissom was opening the door to get out, his dark brown leather boots hitting the ground just as the Denali came to a stop.
            Catherine was momentarily startled by his evacuation of the truck looking to Brass and Sara before shutting the engine off and exiting the truck.
            “Hey guys,” Nick said pushing away from the fender he was leaning against “we’re just waiting on Sofia’s go ahead.”
            Warrick thumbed towards the house behind them. “They’re clearing the house right now. The machine shed,” he said pointing to his left “is cleared but we didn’t find much in there.”
            Grissom, his dark glasses hiding his eyes, scanned the small mining operation. Outwardly he could see nothing ominous about the place. The house that Warrick, Nick and Greg were waiting on processing was a wood and stone ranch house with a long open porch and tin roof. Unlike the house, the other buildings had been neglected. Boards were missing, roofs were open and doors were gone. The rusting remains of a half a dozen trucks and cars were scattered among the buildings, along with vintage bulldozer missing its tracks.

            Over here

Six curious and worried gazes followed Grissom as he stopped in the large open expanse between the road and the house. His back to them, he looked as if he had just heard something coming from the foothills directly behind the camps perimeter.
            “Hey, Gris,” Nick hollered out “does anything here seem familiar?”
            Grissom appeared not to hear him but before Nick could ask again Sofia exited the front door of the house, bouncing from the porch she headed in their direction.
            “Well, someone has been here and not that long ago,” she informed them coming to stand near Greg and Nick. “There’s a uniform in there so if you want to start processing…”
            Warrick, Nick and Greg had been itching to get in the house since they had arrived and needed no other invitation. Picking up their kits they headed for the house as an after thought Warrick called back, “Cath?”
            Catherine smiled, “Go ahead guys,” she said knowing the three were dying to get in there.
            “How many of these buildings have been cleared,” Brass asked gesturing to the half a dozen eyesores that littered the mining camp.
            Sofia turned in the direction of the house and pointed, “I have a couple of guys going through those building back there.”
            Brass looked in the direction she had pointed. The Silver Starr mining camp sat in a horseshoe of foothills that eventually led to the mountains that cut through the desert. A hundred yards or so behind the house, in the direction Sofia had indicated, sat a sluice built into the rock around it, a shorter building directly beside it.
            Catherine went to the back of the Denali to get her kit out. “Sara do you want to start the external grid?” she asked shutting the backdoor.
            “Sure,” Sara came up short as she went to get the supplies she would need for her task. “Where’s Grissom?” she asked startled, her dark head searching the area.
            Catherine placed her kit on the ground, doing a full turn as she tried to spot the man. “Damn it,” she expelled concern flooding her face.
            “GRISSOM!” Brass called out. Nothing.
Sofia watched the three instantly go on high alert. Not being privy to the out of the ordinary behavior Grissom had displayed in recent days, she was uncertain why his usual wandering off had spooked the three so much. Still, if the unflappable James Brass was worried it was a good sign she should be too.
            “GRISSOM!” Sara and Catherine yelled in unison.
            Sara walked to the spot she had last seen him. Trying to see from that vantage point what might have got his attention and had him walking off. Damn it! Why hadn’t she been keeping a closer eye on him? What if Bathory was still around!
“GRISSOM!” she screamed again unable to keep the fear from entering her voice.
            Catherine put a reassuring arm over Sara’s shoulders, “It’s okay, we’ll find him,” she whispered, scanning the horizon. For all they knew he had done his usual and wandered off to follow some obscure clue. Al least that was what Catherine was going to tell herself. In the corner of her eye she saw Nick jogging towards them. He must have heard Sara’s scream.
            “What’s that?” Catherine asked pointing towards the machine shed closest to the house.
            “The building?” Sofia asked looking in the direction Catherine indicated, not sure what Catherine was asking.
            “Is everything okay,” Nick asked placing his hands on his hips.
            “No,” Catherine replied squinting behind her dark glasses. Her answer was all encompassing to both Sofia and Nick’s questions.
            Sara stood a little straighter as she saw what it was Catherine was asking about. “It looks like a path…in the stone,” she said taking quick long steps in the direction in question, Catherine and Nick close on her heels and Brass and Sofia hustling to catch up.

            Over here, Grissom.

Grissom climbed the half-hidden path snaking up through the rocky terrain. He was close he knew it, could feel it. The crying was becoming louder, a duet to the pounding of his heart. The path ended just short of the rocky plateau but even at his lower vantage point Grissom could see the rusty metal of a rooftop.
            Scrambling up the rock with energy born of fear and insanity he burst onto a flat, mostly open space. To his left the rocks led farther up into the foothills; behind him he could see the whole camp in its various colors of dust and before him a large wooden building. The windows at one end were boarded up, and unlike the buildings below the roof had been patched numerous times with tin and plywood.
            There were two doors to the building, side by side and Grissom found his attention being drawn to one of the two doors. Hanging on the door closest to the boarded up windows was a heavy chain. He could see how the chain could be looped through an old fashioned “D” handle on the door and secured to the wall outside.

            I have ssssomething for you.

Grissom knew he was walking towards the doors, even though he wasn’t aware of willing it. He just kept getting closer until he stood before the door, his hand reaching for the handle. Is that my hand? He felt like he was watching his body from a far, it moved without him stepping into the dark room.
            Grissom jerked his head back as he entered the shack. Pulling his sunglasses from his face he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, rubbing them with his free hand. He felt as if he had been slapped by a claw, hot white light pouring into his head through the imagined gash. Holding the heel of his palm against his left brow, Grissom willed himself to look at the room he had crossed into with his other eye.
            It was a small room wider than deep and smelled of death. In one corner lay a filthy mattress covered in old blood stains, empty water bottles stacked neatly along the wall appeared out of place to the general filth of the rest of the room. In the center stood a wooden support beam and at its base lay a heavy chain, an open shackle at its end. Grissom kneeled to touch the chain, the piercing white light stabbing through his brain at the feel of the cold metal.
            Nick had been the first to find Grissom kneeled in the building hidden on the rock cliff. His concern evident by the gun he held down at his side. A cursory look around the room told him Grissom was alone.
            “Gris?” Nick asked in a voice just above a whisper. There were two doors to the room one to his left and one directly across from the one he had just entered. The thought of not knowing what was behind those doors kept Nick vigilant and his gun ready.
            “Hey man, why don’t we step outside until Brass gets here?” Nick tried to keep his voice light. The possible danger and Grissom’s silence were starting to get to him; he just wanted to step out into the sun until the others got here.
            Grissom stood, dropping the chain loudly on the wood planking of the floor. Nick watched him turn to face him his head cocked to one side his eyes shining unnaturally in the shadows of the room. Nick swallowed hard, actually feeling afraid of Grissom.

            Just for you Grissom

Grissom turned to the door opposite where Nick stood and without hesitation walked through it. Nick shuffling from foot to foot raised his gun a little higher. “Damn it,” he muttered cautiously approaching the door Grissom had disappeared into.
            “Nick? Grissom?” came a chorus of voices from outside.
            “In here,” Nick yelled over his shoulder as he peered into the next room. What he had expected to see he probably couldn’t have said. The air rushed out of his lungs as if he had been struck in the gut. “Oh God,” he gasped his gun falling to his side.
            “Nick?” Sara called out at the door as she entered, gun drawn much like Nick had. She was followed by Sofia, Catherine then Brass. All sweaty, panting and dirty from their trek up the rock.
            Nick held up his hand for them to halt. He felt like he should warn them but found he had lost the ability to speak.
            “Nick? Is Grissom in there?” Sara asked. Nick’s behavior was only adding to her growing fear.
            “I…ummm,” Nick settled for nodding in answer to Sara’s question.
            Sara made to pass him, her heart beating so fast she thought it would shoot from her chest in one giant explosion. Nick reached out and grabbed her arm.
            “Sara, I…I don’t…,” while Nick stumbled for the words Brass placed his shoulder to the door to get a look in the room. It was then that he understood Nick’s hesitation. “It’s not good,” Nick was finally able to spit out, looking at Sara then Catherine.
            Where the front rooms purpose was to contain and imprison the larger backroom sole purpose was hell and suffering. Brass noted the exits and signaled for Sofia to take the closest one to their left while he went the full length of the room to check out back.
            “Stay,” Brass motioned behind him to the three CSIs. Grissom was already in the room, he couldn’t help that, but until he made certain all was safe, the fewer bodies in the room the better.
            Catherine, Nick and Sara placed their backs against the wall just inside the second room. Their faces were identical masks of surprised horror. The room was part operating room, part laboratory and all hell.
            Gleaming glass cabinets held unknown contents and surgical equipment. An operating table sat farther back in the room, bloody gauze littered around its base and a surgical cart with probes, hooks, scalpels and unknown instruments sitting along side it.
            There was a metal spring bed frame standing at a forty-five degree angle. Its purpose made clear by the leather straps and thick electrical cords attached to the frame. Then there was the big top of pain. All three watched as Grissom circled a heavy wooden column just off center in the room, his fingertips gently running the lengths of the leather straps attached to the column, his eyes roving the criss-cross of metal bars above.
            Sofia re-entered the room first.
            “Looks like a combination observation room and bunk house in there,” she said gesturing to the side-room she had just come from.
            Catherine and Nick cautiously entered the room. The room was as long as the two rooms they had just gone through but not as wide. It was a complete contradiction to the other half of the building. There were windows with a clear view of the outside, comfortable furniture, including a couple of wooden bunk beds and a television. At the front of the room was a door. Probably the second door from the front of the building, Catherine thought. Directly opposite and to their right were a couple of long tables, like the type found in banquet halls, lined against the wall. Sitting atop the tables was an array of small monitors and other electronic devises.
            Nick stepped up to the tables and flipped a heavy electrical switch that had been attached to the top of one of the tables. With a snap-hiss the monitors turned on and various electrical LEDs lit up.
            “Sofia was right,” Nick said looking at the monitors that showed various angles of the two rooms they had already been through. Nick pushed a button that said exterior and they could see Brass approaching the building from outside.
            “What’s tank?” Catherine asked pointing at another button on the switching board.
            Nick pushed the button Catherine had been asking about but wasn’t certain what it was the camera was showing them. He tilted his head from side to side to see if a different angle made sense of the picture he was seeing.
            “It looks like a grate maybe.” Nick looked to Catherine to see if she had a clue as to what the “tank” was. Catherine just shrugged her shoulders in confusion.
            “Come on,” Catherine said gently patting Nick on the back “I think we need to get Grissom out of here right now.”
            Nick nodded; this place gave him the willies and Grissom’s behavior was scaring the hell out of him.
            Returning to the room they left, Catherine and Nick went to stand next to Brass and Sofia as they watched Grissom interact with the various devises in the room. The two detectives’ faces a mixture of disgust and sadness. They all knew this was where Gil had spent the twenty-seven days he had been missing. They had been warned by the doctors that he had suffered at the hands of his captors but standing in the horror chamber made everything more palpable. Catherine could almost taste the fear and misery that lingered like a poisonous gas in the room.
            Sara had ventured the closest to Grissom, hoping her presence would distract him from his inspection of the various devises in the room. She didn’t want him in the room, she didn’t want him to remember the pain and suffering that happened here, she wanted to take him far away from this evil place and protect him. Sara realized with a start how frightened she was at that moment.
            Grissom inspected the operating table and accompanying medical cart. His right hand hovered just above the blood stained surface as he circled the table.

            “Grissssom, I have sssssomething for you, just for you.”

            Hypnos had come again in my dreams, I shouldn’t sleep he sends his sons to torment me. I can’t move. Morpheus and Phobetor bind me for their father. Phantnsos watches me, always watching.

            “I am so pleasssed with you Grisssom,” Hypnos sways and hisses as he speaks to me. He is a black wraith, insubstantial like fog. His silver eyes stab through my skull, I have to watch him. I don’t want to, I want to turn away. “You have made me challenge mysssself. I knew you would not disappoint me.”

            Grissom grimaced. Clenching his eyes tightly shut against the onslaught of disjointed images. Flashes of nightmares real or imagined crashed into his consciousness nearly flooring him. Grissom swayed on his feet. His tightly clasped fists leaning against the operating table to steady himself..

“Gris?” Sara said trying to break whatever nightmare of a memory he had fallen into.

            Hypnos bears his shiny, silver claw. It sparkles in the light as he comes for me. AWAY! I have to get away!

            “Shhh, Grissssom there is no where for you to go. No where that you can go.”

            I can feel his claw stroking my hair. He mimics compassion but there is no kindness, only pain and fear.

            “Let’s try something new today,” Hypnos sneers and shows his serrated, hooked claw be-BEFORE!

Grissom’s eyes closed as his face rolled heavenward. A heavy sigh escaped his lips at the remembered pain, piercing, ripping pain tunneling through his side. With roar of rage, Grissom upended the surgical cart. The instruments of his pain and suffering scattering throughout the room in a loud crash 
            “Gil?” Sara whispered
            Through gritted teeth he growled at her. His eyes were wild as his head snapped to the back door that Brass had investigated. Marching past Sara, the others following quickly behind, he exited out onto a natural stone veranda. The sun was on the opposite side of the hilltop house of Hell and cast long shadows that extended to the rocks edge. Grissom stared at the shadows. Hypnos! Pulling his gaze away he approached the wooden platform that surrounded a large stone cistern.            
            During the mines mining days the cistern had been used to collect rain, now… Four round posts about eight feet high stood erect around the top of the cistern. They were connected by a series of braces and attached to each post was a rope and pulley. In the center of the posts and at the top was a round metal grate with an external camera attached to its top. Attached below the grate was a set of iron manacles dangling like dead men on a gallows.
            Grissom stared at the manacles before dropping his gaze to the mouth of the cistern. He felt the darkness creeping in on him, the anger, the fear, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t bring himself to go any closer to the gaping stone maw of the reservoir. Angrily he spun on his heels and left the cistern behind, going back the way he had came.
            They all stared, following his movements in stunned silence. None of them knew how to deal with this volatile Grissom. Grissom had always been like a glass of water, self contained and without a ripple of disturbance. The rare moments when his anger had surfaced had been few enough to count easily and had quickly dissipated without much incidence. This was anger fed generously by terror of both the known and unknown.
            “I’ll send Greg up here with your kit,” Catherine looked to Nick as she spoke. “You two start processing this hell hole.”
            Nick pinched his mouth together, pulled his shoulders back and nodded. It was time to get down to business, especially since he was going to nail these bastards personally if he had any say about it. With Sofia as company until Greg arrived, Nick began mentally gridding the house.
            Catherine, Sara and Brass hurried to catch up to Grissom who had started his way back down the hillside. To Sara he acted as if he was frantically searching for something or someone but she had her doubts that he knew what it was he was seeking. She could sense the chaos of his mind and the turmoil of his emotions. It played across his face each time he looked at her.
            “Grissom,” Sara walked up and gently took his upper arm in her hand. He turned and looked at her hand on his arm as if she had placed a life snake there. Jerking his arm away, he looked across the expense of the main yard that was nothing more than dirt and tire ruts.
            “I don’t remember…” he patted his open hands towards the ground, “but I remember…” he looked back at the hilltop.
            Sara knew he was confused, knew that he was frightened. His head was obviously paining him a great deal since his hand would repeatedly grind at his temple. She was beginning to think that Dr. Thoren was correct, that the headaches were more psychosomatic than physical.
            “It’s okay,” she said soothingly placing her hand on his arm once again.
            Grissom spun on her angrily, his face a mask of fury. It’s- not- o- kay,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
            Sara wanted to get him out of this place as quickly as possible but she’d settle for getting him sitting in the Denali. “Why don’t we go sit down in the truck?” Sara asked trying to steer him in the direction of the parked SUVs. For a brief triumphant moment she thought she would succeed, until Brass’s radio broke in.
            “Captain Brass”
Brass raised his radio to his mouth, his eyes still cautiously watching Grissom. “Brass here,” he replied.
            “Trooper Pechota, we have something back here by the sluice. I think your guys will want to see it.”
The trooper’s voice did not sound good and Brass was actually dreading what it might be that the trooper had found. Whatever it was, based on what he had already seen, it wasn’t going to be good.
            “Be there in a minute,” Brass said wearily watching Grissom look in the direction Pechota had identified. “Gil, maybe you should stay here with Sara.”
            Grissom shook his head, even as Brass had mentioned it he knew Grissom would resist. “No,” Grissom shook his head and started walking in the direction of the broken down sluices.
            Brass hung his head in defeat. How much of this could Grissom take and why the hell did I bring him out here? Brass reprimanded himself as he followed. Sara exchanged worried glances with Catherine before bringing up the rear.
            As they prepared to pass the house, Warrick came gliding out the front door in quick, easy strides. Spotting Catherine he raised his hand and picked up his pace.
            “Hey Cath,” he said walking along side her since she had chosen to keep up with the others rather than stop for Warrick “I think there is something you need to see inside.” Warrick motioned to the house that was now behind Catherine, a frown on his face at the quick pace they were all walking at.
            Catherine glanced in Warrick’s direction briefly, “What is it?” she asked him as her eyes traveled the heights of the sluices they were approaching.
            The mining operation had actually had a rather ingenious method of washing the silver from the dust and dirt by cutting giant cistern into the stone to catch rainfall. A smaller diagonal line was then dug to exit the rock face where a gate was use to hold the water in the tank or let it out to run down into the wooden sluices. By the time the silver ore got to ground level it was fairly clean.
            The silver mine had run dry decades ago and without a proper steward the sluices, like the other buildings had seen their better days come and go. The wood that made up the four story structure was worn and brittle looking. Cross members were missing from the base and the actual sluices had areas where the sides had fallen off, washed way by years of rains unfettered by the gate that was now only a hindrance.
            Warrick had forgotten his line of thinking when he spotted the line of shallow graves at the base of the rocky foothill. A quick count made it nine graves and they were fresh too. The pale gray foot that was half exposed attested to that.
            “What the hell?” Catherine muttered pulling her sunglasses from her face. This place had gone from bad to worst to nightmare in less than hour.
            “Over here,” called one of the two troopers that had discovered the macabre scene. He stood at the base of the second sluice a fence lining the base.
            “Is that a snow fence?” Brass asked no one in particular. He’d lived in Vegas for almost twenty years but he could still remember a few things from his days when he didn’t live in a desert.
            The thin cedar pickets, laced by wire wrapped the perimeter of the sluices base blocking most of the view from with in. At one end there was a loop made of twine where the fence could be pulled back and the trooper did just that. Catherine winced at the trooper’s actions, her mind screaming epithelials even as he released the twine.
            Beneath the sluice, hidden in the fencing was a bone yard with one fresh corpse.
            “There has to be ten, twelve bodies in there,” Sara said incredulously.
            Warrick stepped closer to examine the body hidden among the bones. Slipping on a pair of white latex gloves he carefully pulled the dirty blonde hair back to expose the girl’s face.
            “Damn,” he muttered “she can’t be more than fifteen.” Warrick pulled his gloves off and stepped back. There wasn’t much he could do until they got a coroner out here to release the body.
            “Just a baby,” Catherine whispered. She was probably a very pretty girl in life. Catherine could see she had blonde hair and her eyes had in life probably been blue, in death they had lost most of their color and had sunk visibly back into the girl’s skull. She was in a state of serious decomposition but due to the fact that she was exposed to the elements and was still discernible as a young girl, Catherine guessed her to be dead no more than three weeks. Had she been here when Gil had been here?
 Catherine turned her gaze on Grissom, who seemed unable to look at the girl directly. He squinted and then crushed his eyes together as if blinded by a bright light before letting out a heavy open mouthed sigh.
            Catherine watched in astonished horror as Grissom’s eyes fluttered, then rolled back in his head. “Warrick!” she called out in alarm just as Grissom’s knees gave way with a backwards stumble.
            Warrick’s quick reflexes caught Grissom mid fall, lowering the man gently to the ground. Lowering his ear to Grissom’s chest Warrick could still hear the erratic, fast pace of his heart hammering away. Slipping his black work jacket off, Warrick rolled it up and placed it under Grissom’s head. Checking his pulse, Warrick was glad to feel it had decreased in rate significantly.
            Sara knelt down by Warrick taking Grissom’s hand in hers to reaffirm Warrick’s assessment. Her brown head drooped slightly, part relief, part fatigue.
            “I think we’ve stumbled into hell,” Catherine muttered watching as Trooper Pechota raced to and from his cruiser with a first aid kit.
            The trooper opened the tackle box turned emergency kit and pulled out a thinly rolled white cylinder. Warrick rose to his feet to make room for the trooper as he knelt down next to Grissom. With a snap he broke the cylinder’s seal and waved it in front of Grissom’s face,
            Grissom sucked in a large breath of air before he erupted into violence. With a growl of rage his right fist connected with the troopers jaw with such impact that the poor man was knocked up and over Grissom’s body. Grissom rolled with the momentum of his punch and ended up rolling on top of the trooper, straddling him. With his fist raised he punched the dazed man again in the face before Warrick grabbed him from behind in a bear hug and pulled him off the half unconscious man.
            Grissom gritted his teeth as he fought against the arms that bound him. He arched his back and pushed backwards with all his might, nearly tumbling himself and Warrick. Brass ran forward to help Warrick but before he was able to Grissom had succeeded in toppling the two to the ground.
            Warrick let out a loud HUMPH as he hit the ground with Grissom landing on top, but had the good sense to hold onto the raging man regardless. On the ground Brass took hold of Grissom’s right hand and pinned it to the ground with his knee.
            “GRISSOM!” he yelled trying to get the man to calm down. Warrick took the opportunity to roll out from under Grissom before returning to strike up a similar pose to Brass on the opposite side.
            “GRIS!” Warrick yelled, “IT’S OKAY, MAN!”
            Grissom still struggled and both Brass and Warrick were worried he might end up the winner. “Damn it,” Brass swore almost losing the arm he held down. It wasn’t until Sara kneeled at Grissom’s head, took his face in her hands and whispered his name that Grissom struggles began to abate.
            “Gil,” Sara whispered “please.”
            Grissom’s unfocused gaze slowly fell on her face as his bucking and kicking slowed. His brows furrowed in confusion and worry. “Sara,” he rasped, his breathing labored.
            Catherine placed her hand on Brass’s shoulder a silent signal to let Grissom up. Releasing his arm tentatively Brass rose to his feet, Warrick imitating his actions.
            Grissom sat up once he was free, his left leg bent at the knee. For a moment all he did was run-rub his hands through his hair, mussing it and making the curl more pronounced. He was unnerved and confused with equal parts fear and suffering thrown in.
            Warrick reached down offering him a hand up. “Come on boss,” he said injecting a light tone into his voice. Warrick had known that Grissom was having a hard time still, but it seemed like he was making headway, seeing him then he could tell Grissom was still choking on his nightmares.
            Grissom took the proffered had and rose to his feet. His head was throbbing harder then any migraine he had ever had and the screams long since silenced echoed in his mind. He didn’t dare look back at her. He tried covering his ears but the screams were in his head, burrowed deep like a poisonous parasite.
            “I… have to…I have to …go,” he muttered as he stumbled away.
            Catherine thought this was an excellent idea. “Sara,” she said tossing the other woman the keys that Catherine had in her pocket “I’ll catch a ride with the guys.”
            Sara caught the keys and made to catch up with the stumbling Grissom. “and Sara,” Catherine added in a lower tone not wanting to upset Grissom more than he already was “see if you can get him checked out by a Dr. Thoren.”
            Sara nodded. She didn’t hold out much hope. She knew Grissom would fight any suggestion of a doctor or a hospital but she was more than willing to try. Jogging to catch up to him Sara grasped his hand and led him the rest of the way back to the truck, Grissom following like a tired child behind his mother.
            “You okay,” Warrick asked the trooper with the protruding lip and developing shiner.
            The trooper only nodded obviously not pleased with his pained face or the man who had given it to him.
            Warrick exchanged looks with Brass and Catherine. Something terrible had happened here and for twenty-seven days Gil Grissom had been front and center to the carnage and misery. What insanity had reigned in this little slice of hell to leave ten people recently dead and one highly controlled, grounded man lost and raging at the world? It was almost daunting to know that they would have to uncover it.
            Catherine pulled her cell from her vest pocket. They were going to need some help with this one, so Ecklie better be able to pull some bodies from days.