Hello again. I've been wanting to write this one for some time now--it's a bit different than any of my previous fics, and it's looking like a huge multi-part one at that. Let me know how you like it, and if there's enough interest I shall continue...
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. But I wish they'd come to the Great Lakes.
"What do you mean, he's missing?!"
"I mean we can't find him," said Morgan, putting emphasis on the last part of his sentence. "His calls go straight to voicemail, we've checked his room, the station, even the route he was taking to go and talk to the Parker girl's parents. There's nothing."
Hotch closed his eyes, hoping what his colleague was telling him wasn't true. We can't afford to have another person go missing...not now…
"Any sign of Reid?"
"Nothing, Emily. It's like he fell off the face of the earth."
"Just like those girls…"
All three stood stock still as what Emily said registered.
"It is just like the girls," seconded Hotch, racing toward the board.
On the board were the smiling faces of four girls, all between the ages of twelve and fourteen. Each one had mysteriously gone missing without a clue as to where they'd gone or why—like Morgan said, it was as if they'd 'fallen off the face of the earth.'"
Hotch looked at his other two colleagues, Dave Rossi and JJ Jareau. "What do we know about these girls?" he asked.
"They're all about the same type; small, dark-haired, capable and smart but not a standout," the older man replied. "Why?"
"Where's Reid? Hasn't he come back yet?" asked JJ, noticing they were one agent short.
"We can't find him," said Morgan.
"Can't find him?" Rossi parroted, a little confused. "This isn't exactly a huge town—he has to be somewhere…
Everyone in the room turned their gaze towards the board, at the smiling faces that lay also in the land of mist and shroud. No one liked the thought that each knew was running through everyone's mind.
Reid woke to the sound of tires hitting seams in the concrete. He wanted to lift his head from the floor of whatever it was he was lying in, but the fog that filled his head was so thick and overwhelming that it physically hurt to move it more than a centimeter off the flat surface.
He let out a soft groan, trying to somehow orient himself to his unfamiliar surroundings.
Suddenly he received a sharp kick to his legs. "Well, now, look who's up," came a voice in front of him.
"Shouldn't be up yet," replied another voice, harsher than the first. "Directions and all…"
"True enough," said the first voice.
Reid held his breath a moment as he heard shuffles and steps coming closer to the spot where he lay. He tried to make out the face of the shadowy form, but his eyes just wouldn't focus. "Wh-what are you…" he began, in a voice softer than breathing.
He never got to finish his thought. "Back to sleep," the first voice chuckled.
Reid struggled a little, fighting both whatever had already been put into his system along with a vile-smelling cloth that certainly held ore of the same, but it was in vain. Within seconds, his world turned black once more.
Night fell, and there was still no sign of Reid. It was the team feared—their young colleague simply vanished into the depths of the Northern Michigan woods.
"This is crazy," said Emily. "They ask us to come in to find these girls and we can't even keep track of ourselves?"
"Well, we weren't exactly asked," said JJ, her voice trailing on that last few words.
"What?"
Hotch'stell-me-everything-nowlook prompted the young liason to speed up her explanation. "We were asked, but by everyone except the local sheriff. He kind of got overridden as more girls went missing."
Great, Hotch thought. On top of everything else, we have to deal with a sheriff who wants nothing to do with us. No wonder he was such a pain-in-the…
"What was the sheriff's explanation for all of this?" Morgan asked.
"He blamed it on something called 'Kite Country'," was JJ's only reply. "Sounds like a local legend or something…he claims that no one leaves 'Kite Country' ….alive, anyway."
"They don't," came a gruff voice from behind them.
Six pairs of eyes turned to see the old sheriff standing behind them.
"Look, it's not that I think you folks aren't good at what you do," the man began, "but I don't think it'll help. Might explain a few things, but it won't bring those girls back…nor your friend, if what you say is true."
"And why is that?" asked Rossi, a note of challenge in his voice. "Call me curious…"
The sheriff, who had introduced himself as Tom, gave Rossi the once-over. Deciding that the man seemed at least a little genuinely interested in what he had to say, he began.
"You ever hear of a case in this area, some fifteen or sixteen years ago? Involved a family named Campbell…"