Inevitable death?
Dean felt his stomach twist. Dumbfounded. Did Jim land in the same kind of situation Julie had? Dropped through a Faraway Tree, stuck, hurt, bleeding somewhere in the woods? Or was it worse—someone, or something, closing in to kill him within the hour?
There were no clues. Nothing. Just a warning and the clock ticking, each second cutting closer to Jim's death. The only certainty was brutal: if Dean didn't move fast, Jim would die.
Boyd's voice broke through his thoughts. "Dean," he said firmly. "I'll gather the townsfolk. We'll sweep the forest." His tone left no room for argument. Then he pointed toward Julie, pale and shaking on the porch. "You go. Get Kristi. That leg needs fixing before anything else."
Dean blinked, pulling himself back into the moment. He forced a short nod. "Yeah. You're right. We've got to move quick. Jim could be in the same kind of danger Julie was. Maybe worse. We don't know how much time he has."
Boyd gave him a steady look. "Then don't waste any."
Before Dean could step off the porch, Victor piped up, his voice shaky but determined. "I'll… I'll get help from Colony House. More hands, more eyes."
Boyd gave a brief nod, already turning to bark instructions at the few bystanders who had wandered closer after the commotion.
Dean didn't wait. He jogged down the steps, cutting across the street, towards the clinic.
The clinic wasn't far. A squat building, clean but plain, its front door propped open to let in the afternoon light. Dean pushed inside, boots heavy on the wooden floor.
"Kristi!" he called, his voice sharp.
From a side room, Kristi looked up from the supplies she was sorting. The yesterday's mess was cleared up by the joint efforts of the townsfolk, except for the broken windows. Kristi's eyes narrowed at the urgency in his voice. "Dean? What happened?"
He didn't waste time. "It's Julie. She's hurt—bad. Broken leg. She fell out of a goddamn tree in the forest."
Kristi froze for a half-beat, then shoved the box she was holding onto the counter. "Where is she?"
"Post office porch. Tabitha's with her. She's in shock, but awake. Needs you."
Kristi's face tightened, but she moved fast, pulling a canvas bag from under the counter. She started stuffing supplies inside—bandages, antiseptic, splints. Dean watched her hands move, quick and steady.
"Anything else you need me to carry?" Dean asked.
Kristi shook her head. "No. Just tell me what actually happened."
Dean gave a sharp nod, then fell in beside her as they left the clinic. They crossed the street quickly, Kristi's bag swinging at her side, as she listened to Dean's explainiation.
By the time they got back, Boyd was already speaking with a group of townsfolk, giving short, sharp instructions. Tabitha sat close to Julie, holding her hand. Julie's face was pale and sweaty, her breathing shallow.
Kristi dropped to her knees beside the girl instantly, setting her bag down. "Julie," she said softly, her hands already working. "It's okay, I've got you. Let me take a look."
Julie's eyes flicked to her, wet and scared. "It hurts…"
"I know," Kristi said gently. "I'm going to make it better. Just hang in."
Dean crouched nearby, watching as Kristi unwrapped the splints and bandages. "She tried to stand," he told Kristi quietly. "Nearly collapsed. Leg's not taking weight."
Kristi nodded without looking up. "Good call bringing me. Broken tibia maybe. We'll see."
She slid her hands along Julie's leg, slow and careful, and Julie hissed through her teeth at the touch.
"Sorry," Kristi murmured. "I know it hurts." She glanced up at Tabitha. "We need her inside. More light. A chair I can work from."
Dean stood immediately. "I'll move her."
He quickly bent, slipping his arms under Julie again. Tabhita properly supported Julie so that the broken leg won't be jostled much while she was moved in the house.
Inside the post office, they cleared a table. Dean set Julie down carefully, making sure her leg stretched out straight. Kristi rolled up her sleeves higher and pulled gloves from her bag.
"Alright," she said, firm but calm. "Julie, listen to me. I'm going to set this leg and wrap it. It's going to hurt, but only for a moment. After that, it'll be better."
Julie nodded weakly, tears slipping from her eyes. Tabitha held her daughter's hand, whispering, "I'm right here, baby."
Kristi motioned to Dean. "Hold her steady at the shoulders. Keep her from jerking."
Dean moved into position without a word, bracing Julie gently. He met her eyes. "You got this, kid. Just grit your teeth."
Kristi worked fast. She aligned the leg, pressed, shifted. Julie screamed, her whole body arching. Dean's grip kept her in place, firm but careful.
"It's alright, it's alright," Kristi soothed. "That's the worst part. Almost done."
Then the splint was secured, bandages tight. Kristi leaned back, wiping sweat from her brow. "There. It'll hold. She'll need rest and no weight on it. Crutches, if we can find some."
Dean stepped back and let out a breath. Julie was still crying, but not as hard as before. Tabitha stroked her daughter's hair, whispering so calming words.
Dean put a hand on Tabitha's shoulder. "We'll find him," he said. His voice was calm but heavy with meaning. She looked at him and gave a small nod, though worry stayed on her face.
Dean turned to see Ethan leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His hair was messy from running. Dean reached out and ruffled it gently. "Hey. Your sister's strong. She'll be alright." Ethan nodded weakly, his eyes wide.
Dean straightened and walked to the door. Outside, Boyd stood at the edge of the street with a group gathering around him. Dean recognized most of them. Kenny held a shotgun, his face tense but steady. Tom had a rope looped across his chest and his sleeves rolled up. Jade stood with a frown, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. Tobey shifted on his feet but stayed in place.
"Boyd," Dean called as he joined them. The group turned, their eyes on him. "Julie said they went into the forest behind Mark's house. That's where they found the tree. The tree could send Jim anywhere, but if he's hurt or trapped, we should start there and spread out."
Kenny nodded quickly. "Makes sense. We'll fan out in lines. Lanterns if it gets late."
Tom adjusted the rope on his chest. "I'll take the left side."
Boyd looked at the group. "Pairs only. No one goes alone." His eyes moved across them until everyone nodded.
He then raised his hand. "Alright. Let's move."
The group started forward. Their boots crunched on the dirt road as they headed to the trees behind Mark's house. The sounds of the town faded until only the wind and the creak of their gear remained.
Dean walked near the front, watching the woods ahead. Every step felt heavier, and the clock in his head ticked louder.
They were going in. And somewhere in that forest, Jim was running out of time.
....
While most of the townsfolk were focused on searching for Jim, Sara lay deep in sleep inside her home. The vision in the morning had drained her, leaving her body heavy and her mind clouded. She needed the rest.
But then her closed eyes began to twitch. A nightmare—or another vision—took hold.
She saw Jim. His face was red, strained, his voice raw as he shouted, "Help! Help me!" He was trapped, pounding against the walls of a narrow, rectangular box. Sara's chest tightened. She tried to call out to him, to reach him, but Jim couldn't hear her. His panic filled the air, sharp and desperate.
The vision shifted, pulling back as if the world itself were widening. The box stayed in view, but the space around it stretched, revealing more. First the dirt. Then the outlines of headstones. Then the surroundings. The vision pulled back again and again, each layer clearer, until Sara finally understood.
Her eyes snapped open. She sat up quickly. Sweat covered her face. Her breath came fast and rough.
"Cemetery!" she gasped, the word ripping out of her. She stumbled to her feet, heart hammering. "Colony House cemetery!"