Ranger Station, Cascade Forest
(An hour after Jim's arrival)

Blair pulled his Volvo into the gravel parking area of the Ranger station. He immediately spotted Jim's truck parked near the point where the established hiking trails started. Frowning, he got out of his car and walked around the truck, looking for any signs of his missing partner. Not seeing anything, he walked up to the door, tugging on the handle to find the door was locked.

"What the hell is going on here?" Blair muttered as he walked around the building again, trying the back door and all the windows. The building was locked up tight and Blair didn't really want to try breaking in unless he had a good reason to.

Giving up on getting into the building, Blair walked back to his car to retrieve the map he had printed from Kraynor's computer. Jim was a much better tracker than he was, but he'd have to give it a try in hopes of finding his partner before major trouble found either of them. Just as he reached the car, he felt water hit his face as heavy rain drops began to fall.

"No. Oh please. Not rain. Anything but that," the now wet young man pleaded to the sky. He jerked the car door open and dove inside. "This sucks. So totally sucks." Sighing, he studied the map, trying to get an idea of the path he needed to take. No one lived in the area, but cabins were available for campers. There weren't many such cabins, but the cabins that were out there were far apart, as much as several hours.

Resigned to the fact that in order to find Jim he would have to get very wet, Blair hopped out of the car, his jacket pulled tightly around him. He ran to the trunk, opened it and dug around for supplies to take with him. After shoving everything he could into his backpack, he closed the trunk and headed into the woods, aware that the only sounds he heard were the rain and the squishing of his shoes in the wet earth.

Again, the man in the camouflage jumpsuit smiled as he watched the detective trudge off into the woods, still grumbling about being wet and cold. So far, things were going according to plan. Ellison and Sandburg were now separated and it would be hours before they found each other. He had little doubt that they would eventually find each other, but he was curious as to what would transpire before the reunion took place.

Tuesday Night
Cascade Forest

"As Blair would say, this sucks," Jim commented. As the light rain quickly became a downpour and soaked him and the pack he carried.

He had been walking for over an hour in the growing darkness, hoping to reach the cabin before the storm actually set in. Nature had other plans; the strong wind and rain made it increasingly difficult for the Sentinel to use his senses to pick out the sounds that he hoped to hear. If Blair had been with him, it would have been much easier. But if Blair were with him, he mused with a snort, he wouldn't be out in the woods walking in a storm.

Stopping just long enough to shift the pack to a more comfortable spot, Jim rubbed his hands over his eyes, letting the water wipe away some of the weariness. His head was beginning to hurt from the tight control he tried to maintain on his senses in the absence of his Guide. Taking a deep breath, he continued further into the woods towards his destination.

Blair paused, struggling to get his breathing under control. He leaned against a tree and tried to ignore the water that ran down the trunk to soak through his soggy jacket, shirt, and pants. Even his shoes felt full of water. In the dark, he hadn't seen the tree roots until he stumbled down the small incline. Now he was soaking wet, bruised and sore from his fall. He was also now off the path he had been following. The best he could hope for now would be to stay in the general direction he had been walking before tripping and sliding down the hill.

"Damn it, Jim. Where are you?" Blair muttered as he straightened up, trying to see anything through the growing dark, the trees, and the pouring rain. "When I find you, you had better be okay, because if you're not, I'm going to kill you." The young detective sagged back against the tree. As he spoke the words, a part of him realized they didn't make the best sense. Another part of him didn't care; he just wanted to find Jim and get to someplace warm and dry.

His monolog was cut short by a sudden flash of lightning that was quickly followed by a crash of thunder. Mixed with the sound of thunder was a sharp crack and the sound of a tree falling somewhere nearby. Blair instinctively ducked, looking around for where the lightening bolt had struck. "That was close," Blair murmured, not seeing where the tree had fallen.

Pushing himself away from his tree, Blair ran his hand through his dripping hair. "Jim? Where the hell are you?" Blair asked of the growing darkness, setting off again through the trees in search of his partner. Unable to climb up the mud covered hill, he continued on the best he could in what he hoped was the right direction.

Jim moved smoothly though the trees and underbrush trying to ignore the pouring rain. Periodically, he stopped and extended his hearing and sight, hoping for some sign of his partner, their missing witness, or the elusive person who had evidently been watching them for some months.

Trying to filter out the sound of the rain pounding down around him, the Sentinel thought he could almost hear the sound of faint footsteps on wet ground then the sound of a door closing. He tried to piggyback his sight with his hearing, almost able to hear his Guide's voice talking him through the process. But his fatigue was catching up with him and he felt the grayness of a zone beginning to overtake him. With a shake of his head he pulled back slightly before trying again. Without Blair to ground him, using his senses in the storm was becoming increasingly dangerous.

Without warning, a bright flash of lightening eerily lit up the forest around him. The flash was immediately accompanied by a sharp crack and rolling thunder. His senses overloaded between the flash and the noise, Jim moaned and fell to his knees, oblivious to the wet mud and leaves under him. He clenched his eyes closed as his hands covered his ears and he wrestled with the mental dials to get his senses back under control.

Finally, the Sentinel straightened up, although his head was still ringing from the aftereffect of thunder blasting his turned-up hearing. The desire to find his Guide over rode the pain, and he moved deeper into the woods in the direction that he thought he heard the footsteps and door closing.

"Jim, you know I hate being cold and wet." Blair muttered out loud as he walked. "I hate being cold and wet in the dark woods. I hate being cold and wet in the dark woods in a storm."

The litany continued as Blair moved from tree to tree. "This is ridiculous, you know. Knowing my luck, you're back at the truck grumbling about my being out here. I didn't intend on getting out here and getting lost. You were supposed to make it easy and be at the Ranger station, not charging on ahead, alone and without your Guide."

As another flash of lightening lit up the forest, Blair thought he saw the shape of a structure in the distance. Wet, cold and exhausted, Blair didn't stop to think if it was the cabin were Kraynor was hiding or what else could be waiting for him. He simply forced his weary body to move in the desired direction.

Stopping to rest against a large tree, Jim checked his position with the map he carried with him. If he was right, there should be a bridge just ahead. He extended his enhanced sight through the darkness and barely saw the outline of a bridge in the distance. Satisfied he was on the right track, he pushed away from the tree and moved forward.

After another fifteen minutes of walking, he reached the wooden bridge that spanned a deep gap that cut through the woods. The structure had been there for many years, but it looked fairly sound. Jim considered his choices. He could either attempt to cross the bridge, or he could take the time to climb down the muddy hill and back up the other side. He frowned as he thought about the time it would cost him.

That made his decision for him. Hoping that the soaking rain hadn't made the already crumbling old wood more unstable, Jim carefully stepped out on the bridge. He glanced down and knew that a fall probably wouldn't kill him, but from this height, he wouldn't make it out on his own.

Slowly, he moved across the bridge, watching the opposite side growing closer with each step. Suddenly, his feet dropped from under him and he was falling through a hole. Desperately, he reached out, his hands catching the edge of the next wooden beam. "Please hold, please hold." He chanted as he pulled himself back up only to realize that while he had fallen through the hole, he wasn't sure he could make it up at the same spot without physical damage to himself. He began to inch his way to the stronger support beams running the length of the bridge. Soon, he was able to swing himself up over the side of the bridge.

Staring at the hole, Jim realized that he never heard the wood creak and split before he fell. He should have heard something, because he had kept dials turned up despite the storm. Picking the rest of the way across, Jim heaved a sigh of relief as his feet touched the dirt on the other side. Breathing heavily he sank to his knees.

"Damn!" Jim yelled in frustration. With the noise of the storm, his own exhaustion and his worry for his partner, he had completely missed the small minute sounds such as wood breaking. Now that he realized he had missed sounds, he just hoped he hadn't missed important evidence that would lead him to either Blair or the missing witness.

To make it worse, the detective was fairly certain his progress was being monitored since the mysterious caller had called this a test of his abilities. "When I get my hands on you..." the threat ended in a low growl as Jim adjusted the backpack and moved off into the woods towards his destination.

Via a high-powered scope, a figure in gray watched the Sentinel disappear into the woods. "So, it seems that without your Guide, you tend to miss things. I would have thought you'd have heard the crack of the weakened wood, but you didn't. The noises of the storm and your concern have kept you distracted. Interesting."

The watcher frowned that he had lost track of Sandburg's progress after the young detective's fall down the hill. No problem though; he would still know when Sandburg reached the cabin. Of that he had little doubt. Ellison and Sandburg would most likely reach the cabin.

He took a sip of water and settled back in his van to wait.