He paces back and forth for a few seconds. “What if something happened to him? What if they find him?”
“Nothing is going to happen to him,” I say. “Because we're going to find him first. But we're going to have to split up to look for him. We need to get to him as fast as we can.”
“Okay, for the record, I can’t be blamed this time if something happens to you when we’re split up,” Dean comments. Sam cuts him a look.
“Where?” Sam asks. “Where should we look?”
“The nearest baseball field,” I say. “He loves baseball. I know there aren't any games being played right now, but this is Xavier. Dean, you know him. Look where he would be comfortable. Somewhere that would make him happy.”
Dean nods, and we head toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Dean asks.
“Andrew Eagan's grave,” I say. “Today is the anniversary of his death. It's really been weighing on Xavier, and I think it finally got to him. Maybe he would want to go and pay his respects.”
“Keep your phone on,” Sam tells me. “Get in touch if anything happens.”
“Both of you, too,” I say, giving each of them a hug.
“Love you,” Sam whispers.
“Love you.”
We split up in the parking lot, and I get in my car. I'm pulling out as I research where Andrew is buried. As I type his name, my mind shifts. That's not where he is. Xavier is anxious and upset. He's angry and sad and agitated. He's not going to go to the cemetery. He's going to go somewhere that gives him peace.
I know exactly where he is.
I shut the car off and wait for a moment in silence, hoping I will hear something, anything to guide me. A gentle, cool breeze moves leaves through the distance, and they collect against the wooden walls blocking the entrance to the theme park. The gate, rusted green by time and weather and disuse, is cracked open. There seems to be no movement I can see inside, but that means nothing.
Pulling the gun out of my side holster, I flip the safety switch off, just in case, before re-holstering it and step out of the car. I shut the door hard, knowing that if someone was waiting for me, they heard me pull in anyway. At least this way, maybe Xavier heard me. I walk up to the gates and peer inside.
There is a long, empty path, looking almost like a road, with facades on either side. At the end of the path is the Ferris wheel, the seats all removed, so it is just a big empty circle in the sky. As the breeze blows, the wheel moves a little but does not spin.
The path forks around the wheel, leading deeper into the amusement park, and then splits off in various directions, all the side paths presumably returning at some point to funnel people back to the entrance. I take a few hesitant steps inside and feel the darkness of the park closing in around me. My eyes begin to adjust to the lack of light, and I can just make out the names on the buildings above empty stalls.
Some of the stalls were clearly games, with empty bottles or a basketball hoop still set up. Time and disuse have worn the paint away from the backboard and the sign telling customers how much a toss costs. I briefly imagine the park full of life. The laughter, the music, the children running around with their prizes. The smell of fried food, the whirring of the rides, the tangible excitement, and the anticipation of being on the roller coaster.
I shudder at the stark difference now and push on. I pass by a drink stand that’s worn away to nothingness, the roof having caved in on itself and the paint of the soda company logo long worn away. I try to get some sense of where Xavier might have gone. The loneliness of the large, empty park starts to weigh on my shoulders, and I shake it off.
Dean and Sam are busy looking elsewhere, but someone needs to look here. Xavier said this is a place of peace. On a night when he desperately needs peace and comfort, this would be a home of both, even in decay. Xavier wouldn’t see it as empty or lifeless or dead. He would see what it once was, the energy that once filled it having never really left at all. He would see himself and his friend, still here and in that way, just as they always were. I try to see it the way he would. Where would he go?
My instincts take me to the left of the wheel. Something about how most people go right makes me feel more as if he would go the other direction. Less traffic moving his way. The path leads around the wheel and then veers off through a tunnel, long overgrown with vines and shrubs. I take a deep breath and enter the tunnel, keeping my eyes on the dim light at the end.
It is suffocating inside. The plant life that grew up around the sides, circling the metal and mesh tunnel, closed off the passage of air. The exit is so overgrown, I’ll have to climb through it. The air inside is heavy and musty, warmer than outside. I can just make out footprints in caked mud along one side, and figure they have to be Xavier’s. Transients wouldn’t come this far out.
I holster the gun and push hard against a branch to create an opening. As soon as I climb through the brush, I hear something shift to one side. The light is
