Sam glanced at his watch, noting the time. His long legs eating up the distance, he picked up speed as he went. He knew that Karen had gotten off at ten o'clock. It was a quarter to eleven, now. Certain he must have missed her, he bypassed the restaurant all together, and headed for the employees path. Earlier in the day, he had noticed the path that snaked along the base of one of the park's rollercoasters. At lunch today, he had asked Karen where the path led, and she had told him it went to the cabins.
She had gone on to explain about the employee housing. Karen had mentioned she shared a house with four other girls. One of whom had taken off only a week into the new season. That's where Sam was headed now, he was hoping to find her at home.
Sam turned off the main path and crossed a small bridge. As he passed by the rollercoaster, he headed for the trail that ran along the base of Twister, one of the park's giant rollercoasters.
Ignoring the employee's only sign, he continued to follow the path. A lattice pattern of shadows was cast on the ground, compliments of the coaster's wooden framework. In and out of the moonlight Sam walked, silently rehearsing what he would say to Karen when he found her.
As he left the shadow of the coaster, he headed toward the woods. Just before he entered the forest, another man passed him. The older man was walking in the opposite direction. He wore a dark colored uniform and a cap that read, maintenance. As he passed, he tipped Sam a nod. Sam absently returned the gesture.
A moment later, Sam felt a shiver of unease snake down his spine. Unsure of the cause, but unwilling to ignore it, Sam walked on for a moment. Slipping into the shadows of the trees, he turned his gaze searching the path for the man. He was gone. Sam glanced up and down the path, wishing he had paid more attention. He was certain, the maintenance man was the cause of his unease. Sam, trained to follow his instincts, moved down the dimly lit walkway, his eyes focused on the ground before him. As he walked, his every instinct shouted at him that something was wrong. Unfortunately, in the weak, yellow light cast by fixtures attached to the trees above, Sam found nothing.
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Sam felt his frustration reach new levels, as he once again began searching the trail. Something wasn't right and he knew it. He could feel it pulling him, he just couldn't see it. Years of hunting with his father and later with Dean, had taught him to trust his instincts. So, he continued on, searching the path for any sign that something was wrong.
Several times, he even had his phone out, his finger on speed dial. His intention, was to have Dean help with the search, his problem was that would leave the Rusalka unwatched. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.
So he started over, using his flashlight, he swept the beam back and forth along the trail. He began his search where he'd first seen the man, and ended it where the path suddenly became pavement with houses lining either side.
Twice he did this without success. On his third pass, while he was heading toward the houses, he tripped over his own shoelace. Bending down to retie it, he dropped his light to the ground, in order to free his hands.
It was from this vantage point that he saw it. The beam of his light fell directly across it, illuminating it clearly. As he reached for the yellow hair tie that lay half concealed beneath the leaves, he leaned forward. Snagging the tie from the ground, he swept the area with his light. Quickly, he noticed the brush had been trampled in places. Following a barely discernable trail made up of broken branches, Sam walked deeper into the forest, pushing his way through the undergrowth.
At last, the trail ended. As he swept his flashlight across the leaf-covered ground, he kept his eyes peeled for some sign of what had happened. Sam couldn't help but wonder if the young girl's body was lying near, her soul forever bound to seek revenge.
It was then that Sam's foot brushed against something solid. He dropped to the ground, taking a knee and began scrabbling in the dirt with his hands. As his long fingered hands worked the soil, he felt the edge of something hard and plastic. It took about five minutes of digging for Sam to realize what he'd found.
One hand began to trace the familiar outline of a sneaker, the other had already dialed, placing a call to Dean. Sam grimaced, when as expected he found that a foot still occupied the sneaker. Not wanting to panic Dean, Sam took a step back and a couple of deep breaths before his brother answered the phone.
"Sam what's up? You calling to tell me you won't be home tonight, you dog."
"Dean."
"What's wrong Sam, where are you?"
"I'm fine Dean." Sam stared at his sneakers, leave it to Dean to know something was wrong simply by the tone of his voice.
"Sam, where are you?"
Sam squeezed the bridge of his nose, he knew his brother was probably already heading toward the employee quarters. "Stop Dean. Stay by the creek. I'm fine. I found a body in the woods near the employee housing. I haven't gotten to far yet, but I'm thinking it's our ghost."
"What the hell, Sam. Do you often take dates to dig up bodies? No wonder you're always alone."
Sam couldn't help but grin at Dean's words and the obvious relief in his brother's tone. "No, I was walking toward Karen's and I just got this feeling, so I started looking and found a trail. Next thing I know I'm standing over a body."
"Alright, Kiddo, and you think it's the missing girl?"
Sam grimaced for a moment. "I guess I should check, huh. Hold on."
Sam reached out and carefully began clearing away the dirt, leaves, and debris that covered the poor girl. As he began to uncover her, he mainly focused on exposing her head. As the victim began to emerge, Sam felt a burst of fear clench his heart.
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Dean held the phone to his ear, his gaze turned toward the bridge, his mind focused on his brother. He hated that he couldn't leave the creek in order to go after Sam, after all, the kid shouldn't have to be the one to dig up some poor dead girl. As silence reigned, Dean took a step closer toward the walkway that would take him to Sam.
It was then he heard Sam through the phone. "Aw, no. No it can't be, Dean."
Dean took off, his feet barely touching the earth. The phone shoved so tightly against his ear that he was nearly deaf to any other sound. Dean surged forward as Sam once again called out to him.
Although Sam hadn't said, Dean had a feeling he already knew what his brother had found. He just didn't understand how was it possible. How could it be that yet another girl, Sam had come to care for could be dead?
As his feet pounded along the path, Dean began to call out to Sam. With his phone still pressed against his ear, he was unable to pinpoint where Sam was. Reluctantly, Dean broke the connection and started toward the sound of his brother's voice.
Dean slowed only, when he had reached his brother. In the dim light cast by the brothers' flashlights, Dean could see what was obviously the dead body of a young girl. She laid facedown, her long dark hair obscuring her face.
Dean rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, and dropped down beside him. His gaze riveted on Sam's face.
"Sammy."
As Sam turned to face him, Dean flinched in sympathy. Although his eyes were dry Sam's expression said it all, he was done. His brother couldn't bear the pain any longer.
Dean nodded, and reached one hand toward the girl. As he did, he realized his hand trembled. Drawing a breath, he pulled himself together, and forced himself to be strong for Sam. As he drew back the young girl's hair, he noted that she hadn't been dead for long, an hour at the most. Careful to do no more than brush her face, Dean, looked to Sam for confirmation.
"Oh, God. It's not her." Sam dropped his shaggy head into his hands.
Dean couldn't help the sudden burst of relief that shot through him. His voice was rough with emotion when, he said, "Good, get up, Sam."
Sam stared at Dean in surprise. "We have to call the police."
"No, Sam, we don't. We've already gotten as close to the police as I intend to tonight. I'm not about to be hauled in for questioning, and leave someone else to die." Dean stood and hauled an un-resisting Sam to his feet.
Dean shone his light around the makeshift grave. He understood, even if Sam refused to, just what would happen if they were tied to this murder in any way. Carefully, he brushed over their footprints, the best he could. He was probably covering over any evidence of the actual killer, but as he planned to catch the bastard himself, he didn't let the idea stop him.
As he made his way back through the trees, he regretted the fact that both he and Sam had pretty much blundered their way into the woods. It made it impossible to cover any other tracks they'd made. Careful to keep one hand on Sam, guiding his brother before him, Dean was glad when they finally emerged from the woods. They stood hidden in the shadows until Dean felt it was safe to continue down the path.
"What now? We can't just leave her there."
Dean regretted what he was about to say more than Sam would ever know.
"Now, we do nothing. She's dead, calling the police won't change that." Dean kept a firm grip on Sam's arm. He was hoping that his, six feet three inch, baby brother didn't decide to dig his heels in. Dean knew that if he did, there would be no getting him moving.
Dean nearly stopped in his tracks at Sam's agreeing nod. "You're right."
"I am?" Even in the poor lighting, Dean could see the misery in his brother's face.
"Yeah, they'd never believe we had nothing to do with it. And the real killer would go unpunished."
Dean nodded his agreement. "Right, for now we have to get back to the creek. God only knows what ghost girl's done by now."
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Sam followed his brother, his mind focused on the girl he'd found. His mind sifting the facts they'd gathered. "Dean, describe the ghost girl."
"She would have been about five foot six inches, long, brown hair, dark eyes, full lips."
Sam frowned in thought as he listened to the description. "Okay, now the dead girl."
Dean kept moving across the park, careful to keep to the shadows. "Five feet seven inches, long, brown, hair..." Dean's voice trailed off, as he realized what he'd said. "Crap, you're thinking serial killer, damn."
"Yeah, it makes sense both girls were the same age and similar in looks. From the glimpse I got of the ghost girl, it looked as if she had been stabbed, same with the girl in the woods.
Dean threw his hands up. "Fuck."
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "That about sums it up."