I sat waiting in the shotgun seat for Dean to get Sam and then get the heck out of town.
I hummed to myself and drummed my fingers along the dash to “Enter Sandman” while I waited.
I sincerely hoped Dean wouldn’t take too long. I calculated how long it would take in my head. Sneaking in through the window would take about two minutes tops. The inevitable fight with Sam would take maybe four, five minutes. Then the confrontation and the arguing. Then Sam would probably get dressed and follow Dean back out here. They would most likely argue the whole way and might even stop a couple times to argue some more. All in all I figured it would take about fifteen minutes, which was way too long for my liking.
I would never admit it to Sam, and neither would Dean, but I’d missed Sammy. It was never the same without him on the road. Sometimes Dad would go and sit parked outside of Stanford College if we were passing through. Just to make sure Sam was okay.
I had tried calling Sam a few times over the past years and sometimes he would answer me when he wouldn’t to Dad and Dean. But when I tried to get him to speak to the others he wouldn’t, or well, he might on the rare occasion to Dean, but even that was as I said, rare.
I heard voices coming from outside and I tightened my hold on my gun. I slunk down in the seat to avoid being seen. Two people crossed my line of vision. I cocked the gun, but then I recognized Sammy’s sandy, wavy hair, and Dean’s leather jacket.
“And that’s why you ran away.” I heard Dean say.
“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.” I heard Sam shoot back hotly.
“Yeah, well, Dad’s in real trouble right now. If he’s not dead already. I can feel it.” Dean said an angry undertone in his voice.
I winced and listened for more, but Sam was silent. Finally Dean said, “Me and Kenzie can’t do this ourselves.”
“Yes you can.” Sam said in a condescending tone.
“Yeah, well, we don’t want to.” I heard Dean say.
There was pause from Sam. “ What was Dad hunting anyway?”
I picked this moment to open the car door and pounce on the unsuspecting Sam.
“Hi, Sammy. Miss me much?” I asked hugging his waist.
“Kenzie, you scared the crap out of me!” He yelled, jumping. “Dean, I thought you said she was asleep.” After several failed attempts to pry me off of him Sam gave up and I let go much to his annoyance.
Dean shrugged and opened the trunk of the Impala. “I lied.” Dean propped open the arsenal with a gun and rummaged around a bit. “All right, let’s see, where the hell did I put that thing?”
“So when Dad left, why didn’t you two go with him?” Sam asked.
“We were working our own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.”
Sam gave him a disbelieving look. “Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourselves?”
Dean gave Sam a look. “I’m twenty-six dude. And I’ve been taking care of her my entire life.” He jerked his head towards me and I rolled my eyes. As if I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself. I was eighteen for goodness sakes.
Dean pulled an article out of the trunk. “All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy,” Dean handed the paper to Sam and pointed to the picture. “They found his car, but he vanished. He went completely MIA.”
Sam looked up from the paper to Dean. “So maybe he was kidnapped.”
“Yeah. Well, here’s another one in April.” Dean said tossing down another article. Dean continued throwing down an article for each one as he spoke. “Another one in December ‘oh-four, ‘oh-three, ‘ninety-eight, ‘ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years.” He took the article back from Sam and gathered the others back up putting them back in their folder. “All men, all on the same five-mile stretch of road.”
Dean pulled the recorder out of another bag. “It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We hadn’t heard from him since, which was bad enough. Then I get this voicemail yesterday.” Dean played the staticky recording from Dad.
“You know there’s EVP on that?” Sam asked after it had finished playing.
“Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn’t it?” Dean said approvingly. I smirked and Sam shook his head.
“All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.” Dean played the recording again and a woman’s voice played over.
“I can never go home.” She said in seductive voice.
“Never go home.” Sam muttered under his breath.
Dean put the recorder back and slammed the trunk. He leaned against it as he spoke. “You know, in almost two years we’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.”
Sam sighed. “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him.”
I grinned shamelessly from behind Sam and nearly hugged him again. Dean nodded in acknowledgment.
Then Sam added. “But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”
Sam turned to leave when Dean asked, “What's first thing Monday?”
Sam stopped and turned back. “I have this...I have an interview.”
“What, a job interview? Skip it.” Dean shrugged.
“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.” Sam said defensively.
“Law school?” Dean asked smirking. I raised my eyebrows, impressed.
“So we got a deal or not?” Sam asked.
When Sam finally left to go pack, I turned to Dean and said, “Law school? Impressive, looks like my favorite big brother’s growing up.” I turned to get in the Impala.
Dean gave me a feigned hurt look. “Favorite brother? I thought I was your favorite.”
I grinned.
We drove all night to Jericho and I dozed in the backseat on the way. Well I dozed until about 6a.m. which was about the time Dean cranked up the radio and began singing along to “Ace of Spades” by Motorhead, and banging on the steering wheel.
Sammy rolled his eyes and sighed and I did the same. Not that I didn’t like the music, it’s just Dean’s singing was, well….shudder. I reached into my bag and pulled out a book to read. Might as well make good use of the time, I thought wryly as I tuned out Dean and the music.
At some point we stopped to fill up for gas at a small gas station and Sam got into another argument with Dean about his music. I was very tempted to sigh and roll my eyes again. Obviously nothing had changed between these two. I unwrapped and began munching on the granola bar that Dean picked up for me.
“That sounds about right.” I heard Sam say as I finally tuned back in to their conversation. “I swear, man, you’ve gotta update your cassette tape collection.” Sam said digging through Dean’s box of tapes.
“Why?” Dean asked putting down his soda and chips.
“Well, for one, they’re cassette tapes. And two.” Sam held up a few tapes as he named them. “Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?” Dean snatched the last tape out of Sam’s hand. “It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.”
I snickered a bit. “Well, house rules, Sammy.” Dean said putting the tape into the player. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” Dean dropped the box back into the box of tapes and started the engine.
I heard Sam say over the music. “You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year old. It’s Sam, okay?”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you, the music’s too loud.” Dean yelled over the music.
Dean floored the gas pedal and I leaned forward towards Sam. “Sorry Sammy, can’t hear you either.” I called over the music.
Sam groaned and I grinned and began singing along with the music.
I have to say, I missed making Sam’s life miserable.
* * * * *
“Thank you.” Sam said. He closed his phone and sighed. “All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. You get anything, Kenzie?” He asked looking in the rearview mirror back at me.
I shook my head. “Nothing.” I sighed.
“So that's something, I guess.” Sam added hopefully.
Dean gave him a half glance and then turned back to the road. “Check it out.” He said.
Me and Sam looked up to see several police officers parked on the bridge ahead. Dean pulled off and we watched the scene for a few minutes before Dean popped open the glove department and pulled out an ID card. Sam stared and Dean and I grinned at him.
“Let’s go.” Dean said getting out and heading towards the crime scene. Me and Sam followed suit. I let my eyes trail over the crime scene taking in the spotless car and the lack of blood, sulfur, or visible fingerprints. I walked over to the edge of the bridge while Sam and Dean went over towards the officers.
“You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?” I heard Dean asked and I had to fight a grin at his smart-ass tone.
A few officers were picking their way through the river and over the banks. I looked down and searched for anything that might give us some answers. When I spotted nothing I walked back where Sam and Dean were still talking with the officers. Dean gave me a sort of sly glance and I caught the questioning look returning it with a small almost unperceivable shake of my head.
“So what's the theory?” Sam asked as I came to stand next to him. I expected the officer to say something about me being young but he didn’t. I was blessed with the good fortune to look and act older than I really was.
“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer shrugs.
“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.” Dean said sarcastically. Sam stomped Dean’s foot and I fought off another fond grin. Ah, it was nice to have both my bickering brothers back.
“Thank you for your time” I said quickly before my knuckle-headed siblings could have it out here. I grabbed their arms and pulled them away.
When we were out of earshot Dean smacked Sam upside the head.
“Ow! What was that for?” Sam said indignantly.
“Why'd you have to step on my foot?” Dean retorted.
“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?” Sam shot back.
Dean moved in front of Sam causing him to stop and me to run into Sam’s back.
“Come on,” Dean said. “They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.”
I cleared my throat and Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder. Dean turned as two FBI agents and the Sheriff came up to us.
“Can I help you three?” The sheriff asks.
“No, sir, we were just leaving.” Dean answers. The two FBI agents walk past us and Dean nods to each in turn, addressing them. “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”
We headed past the sheriff back to the car. I didn’t glance back at him but I could feel the Sheriff’s eyes on my back the whole way.
“What are we gonna do now?” Sam asked once we had gotten back in the car and started on towards town.
“Let’s go see about this Amy chick. Maybe she can tell us something. Maybe she noticed if this guy Troy was acting funny before this happened.” I suggested.
Dean shrugged. “Works for me.”
* * * * *
We didn’t have to look for too long. We had only been walking for about ten minutes when I noticed a girl up ahead putting up posters on every visible surface. She had dark hair and she wore dark clothing and makeup. I nudged Dean and he looked up.
“I'll bet you that's her.” Dean said stalking towards her.
“Yeah.” Sam agreed.
“You must be Amy.” Dean said.
The girl turned toward us. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy. And that’s his cousin Kenzie.” Dean said coolly.
“He never mentioned you to me.” She said walking on to put up another poster.
We followed her. “Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.” Dean continued.
“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around.” Sam cut across before Dean could say more.
Another young woman, obviously Amy's friend, came up and put a hand on her arm. “Hey, are you okay?” She asked, concerned.
“Yeah.” Amy answered hollowly.
I spoke up. “We were wondering if maybe we could ask you a couple questions.”
Amy hesitated. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit quieter.” I suggested taking her hand and giving her a sympathetic look.
She nodded and led us into a restaurant down the street. I, of course, was squashed like usual between Sam and Dean while Amy and her friend Rachel sat across from us. We ordered some coffee and after the waitress finally returned with it I asked, “So what happened that night?” I stirred some sugar into my coffee. Well, fine, not some, but a lot. Hey, don’t judge. A girl has to have her sugar and caffeine. Especially when you’re constantly dealing with knuckle-headed brothers, and the supernatural.
“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.” Amy said with a small shake of her head.
“He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked throwing on his soft puppy eyes.
Amy shook her head. “No. Nothing I can remember.”
No one spoke for a few minutes. “I like your necklace.” Sam said suddenly.
Amy touched her pendant and looked down at it. “Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff.” She said laughing a little.
Sam laughed a little as well and I smiled while Dean just gave us both a look that clearly meant ‘geeks’.
“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.” I added.
“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.” Dean said taking his arm off the back of the seat and leaning against the table. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…” Dean trailed off.
Amy and her friend, whose name we found out is Rachel, looked at each other.
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.” Rachel said.
“What do they talk about?” Sam, Dean, and I chorused.
“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.” Rachel said a bit hesitantly. I glanced at my brothers. I could tell we were thinking the same thing. “Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”
Me and my brothers glanced at each other. It was obvious we had some work to do.
* * * * *
“Dean we have to go to the library. We don’t have time for a couple beers.” I say exasperated.
“Yeah, yeah, well when you’re old enough to drink you might finally understand what makes it so great.” Dean snaps back.
I huff in frustration, cross my arms, and stare out the car window.
“I think she’s right Dean. We need to try and figure out who this spirit is and torch her bones before she murders anyone else.” Sam says.
Dean slams his hands on the wheel. “Fine.” He jerks the car around and turns toward the library.
Fifteen minutes later we’re all seated around a computer in the library while Dean searches for anything related to a murder on Centennial.
“Let me try.” Sam said finally, reaching out after several failed attempts on Dean’s part.
Dean slapped his hand away. “I got it.” He huffs.
Sam shoved Dean out of the way and grabbed the mouse. “Dude!” Dean cried hitting Sam on the shoulder. “You’re such a control freak.” Dean muttered.
I bit back a retort to that. “Please, will you two just stop.” I sighed. I’d forgotten how exasperating these two were.
Both of them rolled their eyes at me and I resisted the urge to slap them both upside the head.
“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” Me and Dean said together.
“Well, maybe it’s not murder.” Sam began typing in the search box. He replaced the word ‘murder’ with ‘suicide’. An article appeared and Sam opened it. I skimmed over it quickly.
After a moment Sam said. “This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”
“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked.
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.” Sam looked back at us.
Dean raised his eyebrows and ‘hmm’d. I nodded, thinking quickly about anything Dad might have told us about something like this.
Sam continued to read the article. “'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch.”
I studied the picture of the Sylvania Bridge.
“That bridge look familiar to you?” Dean asked.
We glanced at each other.
* * * * *
When the cover of night finally fell we headed out to the bridge.
Luckily no one was there and we walked along until Dean and Sam finally stopped to look over the side of the railing.
“So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean said, breaking the silence.
“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asked looking over at Dean.
I stood on Sam’s other side gazing down at the river below. If Constance died here why couldn’t we find any traces? Spirits normally repeated their death. Acted it out on a cycle. They liked to work in patterns. This coincidentally made our job both easier and harder. I moved down the bridge, studying the ground for signs of anything that might help us.
“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” I heard Dean say behind me. I heard them following after me.
“Okay, so now what?” I heard Sam say.
“Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while. Hey, Kenzie! Find anything?” Dean called ahead to me. I shook my head still lost in my thoughts, concentrating.
“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—” I heard Sam say and suddenly I stopped in my tracks. I had forgotten about Sam’s interview. I felt my heart twist a little at the thought of him leaving us when we were finally starting to feel like a family again
I heard my brothers footsteps stop as well and I turned around to watch them.
“Monday. Right. The interview.” Dean said coolly though I could tell he had forgotten about it as well.
“Yeah.” Sam said looking a bit uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asked and I had a feeling this was going to lead to a full blown ‘Dean Rage’ if I didn’t do something fast.
“Maybe. Why not?” Sam snaps.
“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” Dean asks accusingly.
Sam took a step toward Dean and I feared this was about to come to blows. I started toward them but Sam threw me a quick burning look that stopped me in my tracks again.
“No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam says angrily.
“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean said matter-of-factly as he turned and continued walking my way.
“And who's that?” Sam snapped.
“You’re one of us.” Dean responded coolly.
Sam hurried and stepped in front of Dean and they both came to a halt. I hurried forward fearful of the results this was bound to bring. I should have known they would do something like this.
“No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life. And you know what? I don’t think Kenzie wanted this for a life either. I mean, look at her. She’s always been like me. She’s always done well in school, but you won’t let her go to college will you? You and Dad probably told her it’s too dangerous but it’s her own damn fault she listens to you!”
That hurt. Of course there was truth to his words. But I had never even gotten up the courage to ask if I could go to college like Sam. I understood I couldn’t. I understood that sometimes life wasn’t fair and you couldn’t always do what you wanted.
I stepped between the two of them, probably not a smart move but I had to do something nonetheless and if they accidentally hit me then they would feel guilty and quit fighting anyways.
“We all have a responsibility to—” Dean starts but Sammy cuts him off.
“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”
Dean pushed me out of their way, none too gently I might add, and grabbed Sam by the collar, He shoved him up against the railing of the bridge.
I stumbled back and look up in time to see Dean say, “Don't talk about her like that.” Dean releases Sam and I feel a slight breeze behind me. Not much but it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I looked behind me and saw a figure dressed in white standing on the edge of the railing. She turned to look at us. “Guys.” I say in hushed whisper.
They both turn to look just as Constance steps off the bridge. We run and look over the railing.
“Where'd she go?” Dean asked.
I shook my head mystified. “I don't know.” Sam answered.
Suddenly I hear the familiar rumble of the Impala being cranked. We all turn in time to see the headlights cut on.
“What the—” Dean gapes.
“Who's driving your car?” Sam asks.
Dean pulled the keys from his pocket and jangled them. “Her.” I breathe shaking my head. The car suddenly jerks and begins heading straight for us. We break into a run.
“Go! Go!” I hear Sam say. As if I needed to be told
I could feel the car almost at my heels and there was no way we could outrun it. We all three jump over the side of the railing.