Well, I would like to take this opportunity to thank mrytale2-5 for reviewing, as they were the only one who reviewed last chapter. Anyways, I would really like to know what you think so please, if you have time, leave a review! Happy Holidays to everyone and enjoy this next chapter!
Cammi wished she had brought more than a hoodie to brave the chill of the night. Perhaps fear was what was making her shiver as well, but she tried to shove those thoughts to the back of her mind. In one way or another, this would be over tonight.
When she was younger, the cemetery had always scared Cammi. The ghost stories the older kids told her, the foreboding feeling she got in the pit of her stomach whenever they drove past, and all of those times she and her friend Crystal were dared to run through there on Halloween night had filled her with a sense of dread whenever she had to set foot in there. There was just that feeling hovering on the edge of her thoughts. The feeling that something was stirring beneath the ground she walked on.
This was no different that night. Cammi picked her way around the stones, careful to avoid stepping on the spot where anyone was buried except when necessary. She recalled a stone bench by one of the larger stones, toward the middle of the graveyard. She would wait there, Cammi decided with a resolute nod.
Cammi had just plopped herself down on the bench when she caught movement in her peripheral vision. She had to strain to make out the shadow in the inky blackness of a sky covered by clouds. Whoever it was, they were bent over a particular stone, and if she didn't know any better, she would say they were shivering. Cammi shrank against the bench, waiting for them to notice her. When they did, the figure began moving toward her with slow, almost calculating steps.
Emily had the sense that something was wrong almost as soon as she walked back into the precinct. It wasn't anything major, just a niggling twinge in the back of her mind that she could dismiss as worry about the case, or more specifically, for Cammi.
She hadn't meant to return. After all, Hotch had sent the team to the hotel almost two hours ago. But she'd forgotten a file about the case. She was certain it could wait until morning, but she knew sleep wouldn't come until she figured out whatever was bothering her.
Now that she was here though, she should pop in on Cammi. It was decided that she sleep here, with a few officers sticking around as guards. She waved to the policemen typing away at their computers. They didn't respond. Frowning, Emily headed for the room designated for the BAU team while they were here. The sheriff had mentioned before leaving that it would be best for Cammi to sleep there.
She wondered briefly if Cammi would be asleep. Emily knew stress of any kind kept her awake, and it appeared as though Cammi might be the same. She knew the girl had slept fitfully for brief periods, if at all, back at the hospital.
When she walked into the room and found it empty, Emily was hit first by surprise and then by worry. The police station wasn't large. She probably would have seen Cammi on her way in. Just to make sure, she searched the entire building, which took only a few seconds, then turned to the officers.
"Do any of you know where Cammi went?"
One of them shrugged. He was young, probably new to the job. "Just checked on her. She was sitting by the window, staring."
"How long ago was that?" Emily asked in a voice edged with anger.
Another shrug. "Maybe twenty minutes ago?"
Resisting the urge to yell at those idiots for leaving her so unsupervised, Emily whipped out her phone and began dialing. Hotch answered on the first ring. There was no hint of sleep in his voice.
"Hotch, I'm at the station. I think the unsub took Cammi."
There was a muffled curse word, then a rustling noise. "I'll get the others. Find out where he might've taken her. And Prentiss? We'll find her."
After assuring him that she'd heard, Emily took another survey of the room. Nothing seemed out of place. She sighed, until her wandering gaze fell on a torn sheet of paper lying on the ground. She picked it up, scanning the words with a speed almost worthy of Reid.
Had she seriously gone to meet this guy? What on earth would have possessed her to do that? Emily remembered the guilt Cammi seemed to have at not being there when her family was killed. She sighed. It would not do to get emotional. Compartmentalize, she ordered herself.
There wouldn't be enough time to wait for the others. This unsub had at least a twenty minute head start. Emily dashed out to her car, quickly receiving directions from one of the officers, who promised to follow her to the site. As Emily completed the short drive to the cemetery, she prayed that she would get there in time.
Cammi stood when the man approached her. Most of his face was concealed by a scarf, but she could see his eyes, the same soulless brown she remembered. She couldn't be certain, but she thought perhaps he was smiling under his coverings. The next thing she knew, he had gathered her in his arms, crushing her to a muscular chest. Cammi winced. He was strong. He used that strength to snuff lives out with one simple slash.
She was surprised when he set her back on the grass.
"Christie!" he shouted in a voice that could almost be described as normal. Cammi figured she should play along. After all, he would never hurt his own sister, would he?
"I'm here," she said, cursing her trembling voice.
"They told me you were dead. All of them. But you're not! I was right. You're right here Christie."
Cammi nodded. This guy was crazy. Tears were pouring from his eyes, disappearing into the black scarf surrounding the rest of his face.
"I missed you…Marcus," Cammi said, suddenly remembering his name. This only seemed to make him smile wider, though Cammi wasn't positive.
"Where have you been? I got away from Mom and Dad. They're gone now. I made it look like an accident. But they're gone. I've been waiting for you in the woods where we used to play. Remember when we pretended we had our own little world back there?"
Cammi nodded. She and Tommy had done the exact same thing when they were little.
"Where have you been?" the man asked again.
Cammi began to panic. "Ummmm… Looking for you," she said slowly. It wasn't entirely a lie.
"We can be together now. Without being scared. Now that they're dead. Christie, let's go. We can go back to our kingdom in the woods. Let's go." He extended a gloved hand.
"Wait." Cammi cleared her throat. "I heard you…visited some other people. You killed some families Marcus. Why?"
Marcus' hand dropped to his side, where it swung back and forth. Cammi imagined the knife he must have gripped. His face darkened. "They didn't deserve what they had. They pretended it was all okay but it wasn't!"
"It was," Cammi dared to say. "My…those families weren't like…ours."
"How do you know?" he demanded. "Christie, I told you. There's no such thing as a decent family. But who cares about them? Let's go!"
"You'll stop killing them though, right?" Cammi said.
"I don't need to. You're back Christie." He took Cammi's hand, much to her terror. Though, when she thought about it? How else was this supposed to go down? She had been stupid to come here without telling anyone. Blinded by her desire to do one last thing for her parents and brother. How could she avoid going with him?
Marcus paused when he had a grip on Cammi's trembling hand. Flipping it over to her palm, he peered at the skin. Cammi's breath caught in her throat.
"Where's your birthmark?" he asked, first curious, then enraged.
Cammi tried to pull her hand away. "It's dark," she forced out.
"It's not there," he reasoned. Pulling her closer, he met her eyes with his own. "You're not Christie!"
"I am!" Tears began to roll down Cammi's eyes.
"No you're not!" He shook her until her teeth rattled. Cammi saw the glint of a silver knife gleaming in his jacket pocket.
Turning her face away from him, Cammi thought desperately, I don't want to die.
A chilling breeze whispered across the still cemetery. Emily got out of her car, searching for some sign of life. All of a sudden, an angry voice ripped across the night sky.
"You're not Christie!"
Kevlar vest forgotten, Emily was running toward the sound. Marcus held Cammi at knifepoint, despite her desperate protests.
"Marcus Wilson?" Emily called. Attention diverted, his head swiveled away from Cammi, seeking the person who had called his name. "I need you to drop your weapon and step away from the girl."
"She's not Christie!" Marcus yelled, digging his blade deeper. Cammi winced as it cut the skin on her throat. "I'll let her go once you bring me Christie!"
Emily winced as well. She was faced with an impossible situation. Marcus would never release Cammi until he saw his sister. A sister who probably lay beneath one of the tombstones here. She saw the police officers level a gun at Marcus, hiding themselves in the trees. She shook her head. With Cammi pressed up against him, they would never get in a good shot.
"Marcus," she cajoled. "Your sister is dead. You know that. But this girl doesn't have to die. Think about it. Would Christie want you to kill her?'
Marcus trembled. Cammi was able to meet Emily's eyes. Emily nodded almost imperceptibly at the girl. Everything would be all right. She had to believe it.
Cammi went limp in his arms. She had seen this tactic in movies and crime shows on occasion. Her dead weight, combined with Emily's question, was enough to slacken his grip just enough that she dropped to the ground unharmed. Cammi scurried away, just as a single shot split the night in two.
From the safety of Emily's arms, she watched the monster that had killed her family fold in on himself and crumple to the ground. His eyes were glassy, forever beholding the sky.
Emily gave a sigh of relief. The whole process had taken maybe ten minutes, but to her it seemed like hours. Seeing Cammi in that much distress had taken a toll on her, but that was nothing compared to what it had done to Cammi.
Emily knew that she would be okay, given time. The girl was strong. To face death, no matter how misguided her thought process was, was truly a brave thing.
Cammi turned her face up to Emily just as the team dashed into the cemetery. "Thanks for saving my life," she whispered.
"It's my job," Emily replied. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she hadn't come back. No, she couldn't think like that. Cammi was alive, and that was what was important.
Cammi pulled away, dusting herself off. Emily watched her face, knowing exactly what she was thinking. In her experience, even if they never said it aloud, most survivors questioned why. She even found herself asking that question after particularly grueling cases. The answer was, no one really knew. People could guess at what made Marcus Wilson kill those people, what really motivated him. She and the team could analyze his every move, but the only person who really knew what went on in the mind of Marcus Wilson was the man himself. That's why she had learned to tell victims not to dwell on the why. Not knowing would eat them alive. Cammi would come to understand this in time, Emily was sure. And in whatever way she could, Emily would help her.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think. I really value your insight!