A/C Thank you all for the encouraging reviews! They certainly kept me motivated this week to keep going. I'm going to try and post a new chapter every Monday. We're not quite at the end yet, but we're halfway there.
Also, shoutout to StrawberryBubble for her amazing fic "A Cold and Broken Hallelujah". I seriously can't get enough so head over and check it out once you read this chapter.
And now back to our heroes…
Hotch stared down the seemingly never-ending highway as he drove down Route 94. Morgan was in the passenger seat next to him, constantly checking his phone for any sign of communication from their friends. Two officers in a police car followed behind for backup. Rossi took another SUV with a couple other officers all the way up to Glendive, a 3-hour trip, while Morgan and Hotch inspected the back roads along the way. They were an hour and a half in and hadn't reached a town yet.
"I can see how someone could get stuck out here," Morgan said. "We've been out here, what? An hour? And I'm already getting withdrawal from civilization."
Hotch silently agreed. The Yellowstone River paralleled the highway with countless reservations on the other side of the road. It would have been a beautiful sight to behold in other circumstances, but the agents felt in their guts that something was very, very wrong about all this.
Finally a sign came into view. It said: Welcome to Forsyth! Population: 1,800.
"Wow, my college graduating class had more people than this town," Morgan remarked.
"Well, people in small towns are more likely to remember strangers passing through. If they saw them, we'll find out," said Hotch, trying to remain slightly optimistic behind his stern exterior.
They pulled onto Main Street and sure enough a few heads turned at the sight of the large black SUV and patrol car rolling into town.
"Garcia just texted me. The sheriff's office is right around the corner from here. Rosebud County Sheriff," Morgan said, slightly smiling at the text message, which contained a few sexual details he didn't disclose.
"Good. We'll start there and give the officers the pictures to show around town," Hotch said.
Before they left Billings, they printed out a memo with Reid, J.J, and Prentiss's personnel file photos. Reid's hair was much longer in the picture, but his small frame and slight nerdiness would be easy to remember in these parts, Morgan thought.
When they arrived at the Rosebud office Hotch walked over to the patrol car and told them what the plan was. Then they drove off in search of residents who might have seen something.
"God, it's hot out here," Hotch mumbled as he and Morgan walked up a flight of stairs to the lobby.
Morgan stopped with a look of concern.
"If they're outside in this, how long do they have?" Morgan asked his superior.
"I'm no Reid, but I would say a few days," Hotch responding, focusing on not letting his emotions slip out. "At this temperature we have to consider the risk of exposure and dehydration."
"Well if I know Emily she would have found shelter by now," Morgan said, trying to be positive. "She grew up camping."
"The thing I'm worried about is finding shelter," Hotch started. "This road goes on for miles without a town in sight."
"Well let's hope pretty boy remembered those maps," Morgan said, mostly to himself.
As they entered the lobby, a man with a thick mustache approached them. The gold star on his chest indicated he was the sheriff they were looking for. He looked like your typical small county sheriff: aging, stressed and desperate for some action.
"Agents," he started gruffly. Then he offered his hand. "I'm Sheriff McKinley."
"SSA Agent Hotchner and this is SSA Derek Morgan. We're from the BAU in Quantico" Hotch relayed, shaking the man's hand firmly. Morgan did the same.
"Well what can I do for you today? I have to say I've already received some calls from a few folks who think there's a killer on the loose," he said with a light laugh.
"Not exactly," Hotch said. "We're looking for three of our agents. We lost contact with them on their way from Glendive to Billings. We just finished a case there."
"Right, that creep who was killing the little girls. Hope that son-of-a-bitch fries, that's for sure," McKinley replied with a look of disdain.
"I hear you on that," Morgan agreed, remembering the basement dungeon the pedophile kept the girls in. He kept them for five days doing the unthinkable before suffocating them.
"We were wondering if anyone in town might have seen them come through. They were driving an SUV like ours," Hotch said, getting the conversation into focus. "Their pictures are on these fliers."
McKinley looked at it for a moment before shaking his head.
"I can't say I heard anything about it if they did. But I have a feeling I would have given the locals' reactions to you fellahs," he said with a hint of remorse in his voice.
"What about your local dispatch?" Morgan pursued. "Any sightings of abandoned vehicles? Accidents?"
"To be honest, Agent Morgan, it's been pretty darn quiet around here the last few days. Not even a domestic disturbance," the sheriff admitted. "But to tell you the truth, Route 94 is a bitch to deal with. It goes through seven different counties, most of which have their own force. It gets very political at times. Many offices don't like to share much."
Hotch and Morgan both frowned at this. They knew just how irritating jurisdiction drama could be. There were many famous cases where this kind of lack of communication caused cases to go unsolved – like The Zodiac.
"One thing I can tell you though is there have been a fair share of unsolved missing persons cases in the area," McKinley confessed.
"How many is a fair share?" Hotch asked with a sense of urgency.
"We're out there searching for people three or four times a year," McKinley stated. "Mostly out of towners camping along the Yellowstone."
"And how many have you found?" Morgan demanded, starting to get frustrated.
"Not many. A lot of families just face the fact that mother nature got them. The amount of drownings out there is astronomical," he answered.
"Sheriff, our people are FBI agents trained in survival skills. It is very unlikely they would drown," Hotch returned.
"What we need to know is if there's been any foul play out here," Morgan demanded.
"Like I said, if there has been one of the other offices might know about it, but not us," McKinley contended. "Unless you count a few local legends, but that's not what I call evidence."
"Local legends…?" Hotch asked, his interest perked.
"Yeah, you know. Just that bull that goes around to scare younger kids," he replied.
Hotch and Morgan both waited for him to continue with stern interest.
"Okay, so legend goes that the fork of Route 94 and Route 12 in Miles City is haunted by a beautiful woman in white who leads you to the middle of nowhere," McKinley said, giving the impression he felt a bit silly. "And then you disappear… forever."
"Has anyone gone missing around there?" Morgan asked.
"Wait, you can't be serious. This isn't a lead or anything… it's just a stupid story," McKinley asserted.
"Sometimes we find that stories like these can actually lead to some truth," Hotch replied. "It may not be a ghost or the boogeyman, but it could be something human and dangerous."
"Whatever you say agent," McKinley said with a shrug. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No, that will be all for now. But please call us if you hear anything," Hotch told him, handing him his contact card.
"Sure thing. Agents," he said with a nod before heading back towards what appeared to be his office.
Hotch and Morgan headed towards the door. Both their heads were stirring with the faint possibility that this legend could hold some truth.
"Morgan, I want you to call Garcia and have her look up missing persons cases in between Billings and Glen Dive," Hotch said as they walked out into the blazing dry heat. "We're going out to that fork."
Reid and JJ
Reid helped J.J along through the long passageway. Her legs were still uneasy from being whipped that morning. In her dress she felt like an over-loved ragdoll. Tension electrocuted the trio as Luke guided them to the crawlspace. Any sound, no matter how miniscule, caused them to freeze with fear. If they were caught trying to escape there wouldn't be another chance – they would be dead.
Luckily, JJ realized Angie unknowingly provided her with a way to get Reid out of his handcuffs. There was a bobby pin with a pink bow in her hair that allowed her to pick the lock to perfection. Reid's wrists were raw and bleeding, but now he had a better chance of survival - especially if he was going to save Emily.
Finally they reached a break in the cement of the right hand wall. Reid peered inside to see if Luke was right. A few feet into the small space was an elevated level of what appeared to be the house's foundation. If there were window to the outside in there they would be one step closer to being rescued.
"Okay Luke," Reid started. "I need you to listen to me. We have to lift J.J up into the crawl space so she can get outside."
"Without us?" he asked with much concern painted on his face.
"No, Luke. You're going to go upstairs and go outside just like everything is fine. If anyone asks, you're going for a walk," Reid instructed calmly. "And then you're going to meet J.J behind in the house and head for the hospital. Do you know where it is?"
"Yes. Miles City. I had to get my appendix out once," he said innocently.
J.J started to look panicked at their conversation. Could they trust Luke? After all, he was one of them. He was the one who dragged her back the first time. But if Reid trusted him, she supposed she had no choice. But that wasn't the only thought bothering her.
"Wait Reid. What about you and Emily? I'm not just going to leave you here," she said tremulously.
"J.J, we don't have a choice," Reid practically whispered hoping Luke was lost in his own thoughts. "Someone has to get help and we can't leave Emily alone with them. I can hold them off until you get the team here, okay?"
At this, J.J started tearing up. She knew there was a chance she might never see her friends again if she left, but there was an even greater chance that she wouldn't see Henry and Will again if she stayed.
She embraced Reid as a sign of understanding what needed to be done. Her makeup was running down her face and onto what remained of Reid's shirt. He held her tight and nuzzled the top of her head before giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. Reid didn't want to let go, but they had no time to spare.
"Okay Luke, help me lift her up," Reid instructed, giving J.J one last look as if to preserve her memory.
Reid held his hands in front of himself and motioned for Luke to do the same.
"J.J, just put your foot on and we'll lift you up," Reid said.
She followed the instructions and they boosted her up to the crawlspace. She struggled to get in at first, but found her balance. Inside it was cool and filthy. There was a dead rat a few feet away and she cringed at the sight. But there was in fact a window that wasn't sealed.
"I found the window!" she shouted to them as she crawled toward it.
With one big push, the wooden frame gave out and fell to the earth on the other side. A drift of mild, fresh air filled J.J's lungs. This was it.
Down below, Reid breathed a sigh of relief. At last there was some hope they might survive.
"Luke, do you remember what I told you to do?" he asked.
"Yes. And thank you," Luke said before giving Reid a bone-crunching hug.
"Lu-Luke, you're welcome," Reid returned, wiggling out of his grasp. "And remember, no matter what, keep J.J safe."
Luke nodded and headed back down the passageway leaving Reid alone in the chilly darkness. He supposed he hadn't given much thought to what exactly he would do to give Emily and him more time before J.J hopefully reached help. In reality there were only two options: to fight or to just take whatever was thrown at them. He had nothing to defend himself with and he doubted Emily did either. He didn't even know if she was okay.
One thing was for sure. He couldn't bring attention to the fact that J.J was missing. If he wandered out to find Emily, it would certainly make the rest of the family suspicious. His best bet was the lock J.J's former cell and then lock himself back in his and wait. To die, or live, he wasn't sure. He just prayed J.J would soon be safe.
Emily
It could have been minutes, day, hours since she last saw Reid dragged away. She couldn't be sure. So much had happened since then. So much pain. It stopped, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
When Pa came back after depositing Reid somewhere with Davey, he instructed Angie to grab Emily out of the cell. Despite putting up a fight – including punching Angie in the tit – she ended up strapped down to the surgical table on the other side of the room.
She was completely nude after Angie ripped off the remaining clothes she had left. It wasn't so much that that bothered her as much as the various instruments of torture lining the walls. In another situation she might have been able to take it, but the rape left her weak.
Angie came up behind her with a large pair of scissors. She grabbed a hold of Prentiss' silky, black hair and started cutting away. Emily cringed at the sound of hair being snipped away, but stayed focused.
It's just hair. You can do this. Stay strong Emily.
After Angie finished with a maniacal laugh, she held up a mirror for Emily to see. Emily barely recognized the reflection. Not only did she only have a few patches of hair left, but her face was sullen and her eyes were dead.
Pa joined in on the mockery of it all.
"Perfect. You're little friend is a fag and now you're a big ole dyke," he cackled.
Emily cared very little about what he said. The only thing she cared about was the blowtorch in his hand.