I stand momentarily frozen in the center of the street as Dean and Sam head in opposite directions into the buildings. I'm afraid, I'll admit that, but I'm also kind of excited. A feeling of anticipation is welling up inside of me, making me expect every shadow in every corner to turn out to be something more than just a shadow. This is what my career is all about. Finally, I'm going to be discovering something real. I know I am. I can feel it.
Still, when Sam and Dean both disappear from my sight into buildings that look like they've never seen better days, just marginally less bad ones, I feel a chill run up my spine. To keep myself focused, I take a few more pictures, using my camera zoom like binoculars to get a closer look at the buildings. I find myself drawn to the dusty windows and the dim outlines of objects inside. It's hard to tell what the objects might be through the screen of dirt and I find myself staring at each one, waiting to see if it will move.
After a few minutes of obsessive staring, movement makes me snap my attention back to the doorway on the left side. To my relief, Dean walks out, shaking his head at me to indicate that he's found nothing. He immediately continues on to the next two-story storefront on his side of the street and my momentary relief from solitude evaporates. Even though I know that both of the boys are fairly close by, with them out of sight I feel immensely alone in this place. Plus, the fact that Dean was holding a gun in his hands, ready to shoot at a moment's notice does not do much to calm my nerves.
I reflect again on the possible entities responsible for the disappearances and shudder to myself. It's infinitely easier to think about werewolves, vampires, and whatever else when they're in the abstract. It's another thing entirely when you're wondering what could be hiding behind the next door.
I pan down with my camera and catch Sam exiting the complex on the right. I resist the urge to take his picture. I don't want to give them any reason to doubt my word about keeping their identities a secret. And since I can't use the picture, it would just be a waste of film. Still, the desire to document evidence of the fact that I'm not alone here is strong. If I do see something, I don't want to have my report dismissed as a hallucination. It's important to me to remain as credible as possible in this line of work.
Sam glances at me with a question in his eyes. I'm not sure exactly what the question is: Am I okay? Did Dean find anything? Have I seen anything? It doesn't really matter which question it is, really. I lower my camera and shake my head at him, indicating that nothing has changed. He holds my gaze for a moment, expressive brown eyes almost radiating comfort and assurance, before he turns to his next search area. I wonder momentarily at Sam's ability to make me feel better without saying a word, then refocus my own attention to the task at hand. I'm supposed to be searching just as much as they are. With that in mind, I take my first few steps forward, feeling as I do so the world that has slowly solidified around me dissipate with the motion. I walk slow, letting myself readjust to the new possibilities of every slight change in my position. I'm acutely aware of the cold metal against my back, but I feel exposed out here in the middle of the street. Still, I'd rather feel exposed than join the shadows under the eaves of the buildings. I can't seem to trust shadows. I've never been able to, not since I was little. My overactive imagination has always been able to read too much into the unknown and as I've gotten older and started to find out about more possibilities of what could be lurking…well, it hasn't gotten better. I saw something when I was a child and I'm not about to let that go no matter what anyone else says. Despite the fact that I almost want something to solidify from the darkness, I'm also afraid that something will. It's a strange contradictory feeling and it makes it hard for me to be very decisive.
The boys are taking entirely too long to search these buildings. I wish there was some way to make this go faster. After all the hell Dean put me through by making me realize that real evil exists in ways I hadn't really come round to believing as of yet (my brain still balks at the thought), the anticipation is killing me almost more than the realization did.
The sun disappears behind some clouds and the whole town falls into dimness. I shiver slightly as my mind recalls my thoughts of only seconds earlier about shadows. I quickly calculate in my head as I look up at the offensive clouds that are causing the premature dusk exactly how much daylight we have left. Now that summer is fading into fall, the days are getting shorter, but there should still be a good five hours of sun left.
As if sensing my irritation about how long this is taking, the boys both emerge almost simultaneously from their second obviously fruitless searches. Dean shrugs at both Sam and I as if to say he doesn't know why whatever is here hasn't been more convenient about revealing itself.
"There's something here." Sam says, sounding so sure that it sends another chill down my spine, "We just have to keep looking."
Dean groans, "Great. Supernatural hide and seek. My favorite."
He pulls something out of his pocket that looks like a remote gone wrong and heads back towards his side of the street, holding it out in front of him. I figure it must be some kind of EMF reader, but it's hard to know for sure. I still haven't said anything, which apparently makes Sam think that I'm really not okay and he has to check on me again. I can almost see it coming when he asks, "Are you okay, Lindy?"
"Fine." I say quickly, "I just wish we could figure this out already."
"We may not find anything until after dark." Sam warns.
I nod, but when Sam starts to walk away to go back to his own investigating I mutter, "That's what I'm afraid of."
As the third and then the fourth dwellings on each side turn out to be equally clueless, my anxiety fades into impatience. This thing is really killing my afternoon. Not only has it unearthed some childhood apprehensions that I'd spent a good deal of time burying in my subconscious, it's caused me to spend a good chunk of my free time with possibly the two hottest guys in my area of interest on a wild goose chase. And yet, I can't immediately dismiss my fears because there is something about this place. Sam's right, there is something here, it just won't show itself. Not yet. Could be it's waiting for just the right moment. Great, there's that anxiety again.
More minutes die agonizing deaths as we search. I'm starting to think that maybe this will turn out like most of my other stories. Nothing substantial to report, just personal experiences and other such things that can't be verified or really counted as evidence.
"Hey, guys!" Sam calls suddenly, leaning out the door of what must be the sixth place I've seen him disappear inside.
He doesn't seem too much like he's in dire peril and I'm fairly excited by the change of pace, so I immediately run over. Dean is quick to join us.
"You find something?" he asks, revealing that he's at least partially as excited as I am that this long search may not have been in vain.
"Come on." Sam says, gesturing for us to follow him instead of just telling us what he's found.
Dean sends me another look that plainly says, 'yeah, he's always this annoying' before he precedes me into the house after his brother. The inside is of the house is dim and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Apparently, the dirt smeared across the windows is as effective as curtains in barring the entry of light. Inside are rows of empty shelves that make me think that this may have once been some kind of general store. I hadn't thought it was possible for this town to seem creepier, but I was obviously wrong. Being inside these buildings is like being in a graveyard.
"Hey, you coming?" Dean snaps me out of it.
I look over at him where he's standing on the other side of a shelf. The shelves are only about five feet tall, so we can easily see over them. I'm at least grateful that they're not towering over me, obscuring my vision of the rest of the room.
"Yeah." I reply, hurrying around the shelf to join him.
He walks by my side as we head around the counter lining the back of the room. There's a small doorway at the back where the door itself has long ago fallen off the hinges and to the ground. I glance at Dean to see if I should go first. He raises his eyebrows in response and I wonder if the look in his eyes is a challenge. I take it that way regardless and step across the door into the even darker, smaller room beyond.
"Over here." Sam calls from inside, waving me over to join him further inside.
He's looking at something on the floor and when I join him, I notice that he's looking at a trap door. The kind you only see on TV with the large iron ring for a handle.
"Why is this important, Sammy?" Dean asks as he walks up behind me.
Wordlessly, Sam pulls the trap door open. On the underside of the door there are scratches etched into the wood. Dean immediately moves to get a closer look, kneeling by the wooden panel.
"These look human." he says, finally. He looks down into the cellar, but even in the daylight it's incredibly dark in there, "Sam?"
"I looked. There's nothing down there. This is all I could find." Sam says. He lowers himself to Dean's level, "Dean, what if these people who've disappeared are still alive?"
"Wait, you think something has these people trapped?" I ask, feeling a little lost. This changes everything.
Sam nods, "I think they're here, but just like we can't find what has them, we can't find them either. I think we need to wait until dark and come back."
As I absorb that information, I bring my camera back up to my face. I don't want the brothers to see my fear returning. I adjust the flash on my camera and take a picture of the scratches. Dean and Sam both kind of groan at the sudden brightness and I kind of hope that the flash blinds them a little bit. That way they won't see me take too long to lower my camera again. That way they won't notice the brief struggle for control of myself. I hope that when they do see me again, they'll only see me look determined and ready for anything.
"Well, let's get out of here, then." Dean says, standing up, "No point in us sitting around here, waiting."
I nod and the three of us head back towards the cars.
