Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yada yada
Thanks to all who have read and reviewed this story. It is greatly appreciated.
I attempted to add a bit of comic relief, but I don't think it worked. Please let me know what you think.
Part 5
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away
Sam sat in the back booth of Mossy Oak's only diner, his laptop open on the table in front of him, searching the Web for more information on their case. He had checked into the girls' families further, and found that the fathers had all died or disappeared one year before their daughters, also on the night of the new moon. He had searched the lore for something that followed that type of pattern but so far he had turned up nothing.
Sam had moved on to research the symbol he had found on the window sill of three of the houses, and he was absorbed in a website that listed the uses of ancient runes when he heard someone slide into the other side of the booth.
"About time," he said, not bothering to look up from the laptop screen. "I thought you were going to call."
"Well, I would have, but you didn't leave your number." Startled, he looked up from the screen into the flat grey eyes of a young woman. She appeared to be in her late teens and completely normal except for her bobbed, dark-purplish-blue hair. Sam quickly shut the laptop as he tried to recover his composure.
"I'm sorry, but who--?"
"You're that FBI guy, right? I heard you wanted to speak to my mother."
"Your mother--?"
"Jane Martin. You were at our house earlier today. Mrs. Simmons told me. I'm Vic. Victoria Martin."
"Oh, yes, of course. Special Agent Sam Walsh." He held out his hand, but she ignored it.
"Why did you want to speak to my mother, Agent Walsh?"
"My partner and I are working on trying to clear some cold cases, and we--."
"You want to know about my sister, Elizabeth." A new expression crossed her face, one Sam couldn't quite read.
"Yes. We understand she disappeared about ten years ago under mysterious circumstances, and we are trying to collect as much information as we can."
"I see." She lean back in her seat and stared at him with a guarded expression for a few moments before responding.
"I'm not sure what my mother could tell you. I doubt she knows anymore now than she did ten years ago. She's put it all behind her by now, anyway, and I'd really rather you didn't bring it up with her again." Sam nodded and decided to try a different route.
"What about you? Do you remember anything--?"
"Hardly. I was only eight years old at the time. Spent several years in therapy trying to forget, and I guess it did its' job." Something underneath the bitterness in her tone convinced Sam he wasn't getting the whole story. As he reviewed her words, a detail caught his attention, and something that had been nagging at the edges of his mind seemed suddenly important.
"Your sister was older, twelve when she disappeared, right?"
"Yeah, so?"
Twelve instead of eight. It doesn't fit the pattern. Unless…unless the pattern was established with the second disappearance. And the first was the cause…
Sam was about to ask her another question when something caught his eye and he froze. Oh great. That's the LAST thing I need.
A tall, gangly, craggy-faced man in a law enforcement uniform was making his way over to their table. He stopped next to the girl and put one large work-worn hand on her shoulder. She flinched and looked up at the man who was smiling down at her.
"Everything OK, Victoria?" She glanced at Sam, who was desperately trying to remain calm. A puzzled expression flitted across her face, eyes narrowing as she started at Sam for a second before looking up at the man and responding.
"Fine, Sheriff. Everything's fine."
"Not working tonight?"
"Nope. I have a big test tomorrow."
"Who's your friend?" he asked, looking at Sam and giving him the once-over.
"Sam Walsh. He's…he is helping me to prepare for the test."
"Study Buddy, huh? You look a little old to be a college student. Kinda dressy for one, too." The Sheriff's tone remained amiable, but Sam was not fooled. He was being catalogued, filed away for future reference if something happened.
"Sam's a part time student and working full time. Used car salesman." She briefly turned to Sam and gave him a sweet smile, but the expression in her eyes was far from friendly. "He's got a line a bullshit that just knocks 'em dead." The Sheriff chuckled.
"I'll keep that in mind. Nice to meet you, Sam. I trust you're aware of the curfew?"
"Uh…curfew?"
"Sam will be leaving way before then. And don't worry, I'll be home studying."
"That's good. Well, I guess I better head off. Patrol duty, you know. And Victoria, one more thing?" He took his hand off her shoulder and lifted it up to ruffle her hair. "Lay off the blueberries." He chuckled, turned, and ambled away. Vic's smile remained until the Sheriff had left but it vanished as soon as she turned back to Sam.
"Asshole," she muttered, running her fingers through her hair to smooth it back down. Sam gave a small sigh of relief before he noticed that she was glaring at him with an openly hostile expression.
"OK, buddy, here's the deal: I know you're no FBI agent, you were completely freaked out when the Sheriff showed up. If you don't tell me right now why you're really here, I'm going to start screaming." She jerked her thumb back towards a group of men a couple of booths away. "The Good Ol' Boys club there will take you down so fast you won't even know what hit you. Now spill."
"All right…all right. I really am here to get more information about your sister's case. I'm interested in it because there have been other disappearances here that were similar. They follow a pattern, and my brother and I, we…investigate that sort of thing."
"Investigate? Like reporters?"
"No, we're not reporters--."
"Private detectives?"
"No, it's..." Sam lowered his voice. "We look for things that most people don't even know exist. Look, I know it's hard to believe, but there really is something strange going on here, and we're here to stop it." Vic sat back in the booth and stared at him.
"Strange…like, X-Files strange?" Sam chuckled dryly.
"Something like that."
"And you really think you can help? You and your brother?"
"Yes, we do." After a few moments of awkward silence, she laughed.
"Ah, what the Hell. Everyone thinks I'm crazy anyway, I might as well have some company. What do you need to know?"
"What do you remember?"
"Not much. I remember it was during our Christmas break. We had watched some old black and white horror movie…I don't even remember which one. After we went to bed that night, I got scared and snuck into my sister's room to sleep. She…grumbled a little but let me stay. I guess some time in the middle of the night, she got tired of…well she always said I moved too much when I was asleep, so I guess she got tired of it and went to my room. Next thing I remember I woke up when my mother started screaming…she couldn't find Elizabeth anywhere…and the window in my room was open." Vic shrugged. "That's about it. Well, no, the Sheriff came out and checked but he couldn't find anything. The idiot said she must have run away." She snorted in disgust. "As if. She wouldn't have done something like that." Sam nodded in sympathy. The story was now way too familiar.
"And after?"
"Nothing. We put out flyers, our neighbors helped search. Just…nothing."
"What did your parents think?"
"My father died about a year before this all happened. My mother…Sorry, I'd really rather not talk about that. Let's just say it's not something we've discussed for a long time."
Sam pulled out his cell phone and showed her the picture he had taken at the Miller house.
"Have you ever seen this before?" Vic's eyes widened when she saw the image.
"Where did you get that?"
"I found it carved into the windowsill outside a missing girl's bedroom. There are at least two more like it on the houses of other missing girls."
"Three. There was one on my window, after Elizabeth disappeared." She drew in a shuddering breath. "So you've found something that connects them. Do you know why?"
"Not yet, but we've established a pattern to these disappearances."
"Do you think it's going to happen again?" Sam nodded.
"Tonight."
"Can you stop it?"
"We're going to try."
Vic guided her car into the space next to the Impala while Sam tried Dean's cell again. When he got the voicemail, he snapped the phone shut with a mixture of worry and annoyance crossing his mind.
"No answer? Maybe he fell asleep?" Vic suggested.
"Dean doesn't sleep that soundly." Sam said as he opened the door and unfolded his long frame from the passenger seat of Vic's Gremlin with a grimace. If Dean saw him in that monstrosity, Sam would never hear the end of it. He marched up to the door in front of the Impala and banged on the cheap scarred wood.
"Dean! Open up, man." No response. "Dean!"
"He's not in there." Sam spun around to find an angular, middle aged woman with thin greasy graying hair staring at him with contempt, a half burned cigarette hanging from one corner of her mouth.
"Do you know where he went?" Sam asked as he flashed his FBI badge. The woman's heavy-lidded eyes widened in surprise.
"Saw him take off a few hours ago, walking down the road towards the old Dillon farm, carrying a satchel. He in trouble?"
"No, we're working together. Where is this Dillon farm?" She pointed toward the road heading out of town.
"'bout a quarter mile up the road on the right. Spooky damn place."
"Thanks." She huffed and strode back to the office, slamming the door behind her.
"Need a lift?" asked Vic. "Getting cold out, and I can get you there faster." Sam heard the plea in her voice: Don't leave me out of this.
"Thanks." He climbed back in her car and shut the door. "But when we get there, you're staying in the car."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Civilian needs to stay out of harm's way. Whatever." She pulled out of the parking lot, spinning gravel on her way down the road.
When the reached the farm she pulled over onto the shoulder and killed the engine. The field in front of the burned out buildings appeared to be empty.
"Why would he come out here?"
"Not sure. He must have found something out while he was at the library. Wait here."
Sam climbed out of the car and started making his way through the tangled weeds to the buildings, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. When he reached the house, he called out for Dean, but the area remained silent. On a hunch, he pulled out his cell and dialed Dean's number. The silence was broken by the distinctive chords of Dean's ring tone. Sam followed the sound until something on the ground caught his attention: it was Dean's duffel.
"Dean!" he yelled, looking around for his brother. On gut instinct, he grabbed one of the sawed-offs from the bag, along with a bottle of holy water, and dialed Dean's number once more as he swung the bag over his shoulder. The sound grew louder as he moved toward one of the burned-out foundations, and as the ring cut off he spied the phone lying open on the ground in a patch of flattened grass.
Oh damn it…
"DEAN!"
He noticed a swatch of flattened weeds and followed it, gun raised at the ready as he walked. Suddenly he saw something that caused him to freeze in mid-step. He bent down and touched the darkened stain, his fingers coming away red.
No! Nonononono!
He saw more stains on clumps of weeds, clumps with dirt clinging to their roots. After a few more feet, a glint of metal caught his eye and he bent down to retrieve it: Dean's gun. Sam stood up and bellowed, all his fear and anguish concentrated into one word:
"DEAN!!"
Suddenly, as the echo of his cry died away, another scream broke the silence.
"SAM! LOOK OUT!"
He spun around and his heart slammed into his throat. A rolling, roiling black cloud was approaching at a staggering speed. He raised the shotgun and sent a barrel of rock salt into the center of its' mass, causing it to shriek and fall back. With a burst of speed brought on by sheer fury, Sam ran at it and threw the holy water as hard as he could, shouting the exorcism ritual he had memorized.
Nothing happened.
Sam froze in shock as the thing collected itself and surged toward him again. He let it have the other barrel of rock salt, turned, and ran. By the time he reached the car, Vic had the passenger door open and he practically dove into the car and slammed the door as she took off in a cloud of dust. He looked back at the field in time to see the thing stop at the edge of the road where it hung for a minute before retreating back to the woods. He glanced over at Vic, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel as she fought to keep the car on the road.
"What. The Hell. Was THAT?!" she managed to gasp.
Sam didn't answer. His mind was too preoccupied with a single thought.
Dean…
"I'm Bethany. Bethany Miller."
Dean froze. It was quite honestly the last thing he expected to hear. Before he could form a coherent question, another of the girls spoke.
"I'm Krista. Krista Wallace. Everyone here calls me Kris."
Oh crap…
"And I'm Liesel Schneider," added the third girl. "They call me Lees."
"How…how many of you are there?"
"Five," said Lees. "Us three, Mia Lawson, she was here earlier, and Emmy. I don't know Emmy's last name. She just told us to call her Emmy."
Gotta find out what happened here…
"Uh, OK…and where is 'here', exactly?"
Dean's question was met with silence.
Ah great, apparently that was the wrong question to ask. You're doing just peachy…
Finally Kris spoke.
"We don't exactly know. It's just part of the Caverns. We find new places all the time."
"The Caverns?"
"Well, that's what we call it. It has the stuff you see in caverns, you know? Stalagites?"
"Stalactites," Lees corrected. "Or stalagmites. I forget which is which."
"It's a really cool place, though," added Bethany. "The whole thing, I mean here is kinda boring, but the rest of it is cool."
"I'll take your word for it." You need to find out what happened to them without freaking them out. Think, Dean.
"How…I mean, do you know how you got here?" Or what brought you here?
"Not really. I remember Emmy and Mia finding me, but that's it. They didn't know how I got here, either." Lees sounded puzzled, as if she hadn't really thought about it before.
"How did you get here?" asked Bethany. Dean tried to make it sound as innocuous as possible. He didn't really know what would set them off, but he figured if they did lose control it wouldn't be pretty.
"I…don't know. I remember falling…"
"Oh, like Alice, down the rabbit hole! See guys, I told you, it was magic!" Bethany sounded quite delighted with the idea. One of the other girls snorted in disgust.
"Sure you did."
"Shut up, Krista. It's better than your idea. She thinks it was aliens," Bethany confided to Dean in a stage whisper. He choked back a laugh. Bobby would love this…
"You're both wrong," said Lees, lowering her voice. "We've entered another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. That's the signpost up ahead - next stop--."
"Lees, will you please shut UP!" chorused Kris and Bethany.
This time he couldn't help it. In spite of himself, Dean let out a bark of laughter which he immediately regretted. The pain that flared up through his chest brought the seriousness of his situation back to the front of his mind as he groaned in agony.
The girls stopped bickering at once. After a few moments of silence, he felt a cold, soft hand against his forehead.
"Hey. Are you OK?" Bethany asked in a quiet voice.
"I've been better," Dean managed to grind out through clenched teeth.
"Just wait for Emmy to get here. She'll help you. She helped me," Bethany whispered.
"What…do you mean?"
"When I first got here, I hurt a lot. Like you're hurting I guess. You can't see, can you?" Dean felt a twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach.
"No…"
"I couldn't either. But then Emmy found me. She stayed and talked me to sleep. When I woke up, everything was better, and I could see. So just wait. I'm sure she can help you, too."
Oh, God…
"Bethany…I need to get out of here. I can help you all if I can get out. I promise I'll help you…"
"There is no way out, Dean. We've tried, but we can't find one." She patted his hand. "You just need to wait for Emmy."
Dean fought down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his unseeing eyes and tried to block everything out.
I am so screwed…
A/N: Chapter title is from Beautiful Dreamer by Stephen Foster
Lees' smart-ass routine was inspired by the Rod Serling's monologues in the opening sequence of The Twilight Zone (classic TV series, not the movie)
Y'all will meet Emmy in the next chapter ;)