Sara stumbled as she got out of bed, the floor tilting under her feet. Her head spun, and her eyes were still blurry from sleep and the weight of what she had just seen. She pressed a hand to her temple, trying to calm her racing breath. "Dean," she whispered. "I need to find Dean."
Her hands trembled as she pulled on her boots. She barely tied the laces before rushing out the door. Her body felt heavy and weak, but adrenaline pushed her forward. The sunlight outside was bright and sharp after the dimness of her room. She squinted against it, forcing her legs to move faster down the dirt road.
Dean had told her not to take her visions at face value all the time. These visions might be correct or be compeletly wrong. So before drawing any sort of conclusion she has to first confirm things.
Her boots kicked up dust as she ran past the diner and the empty store. The streets were quiet; most people had probably already joined the search.
When she reached the post office, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. Her heart thudded in her chest. Then she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and old wood. Kristi was kneeling beside a table, checking Julie, who lay back on a pillow with her leg wrapped in fresh bandages. Tabitha sat next to her, gently rubbing her arm and whispering something soft. Ethan stood close by, arms crossed, his face full of worry.
Everyone looked up as Sara entered.
Kristi stood and frowned in surprise. "Sara? Are you alright? You look like you ran here. Didn't I tell you to take it easy for the rest of the day?"
Sara shook her head, "I'm fine now. I just need to talk to Dean. Is he here?"
Tabitha shook her head. "No. He left with Boyd and the others. They're out looking for Jim."
Sara's stomach dropped. "Looking for him? What do you mean?"
Kristi and Tabitha exchanged a quick glance. Then Kristi spoke explaining what had happened to the Matthew family.
Sara looked down, hiding the shaking of her hands, as she heard the entire story. She couldn't tell them yet—not until she was sure what she saw was real. "Right," she murmured. "That's good. They'll find him."
Tabhita spoke quietly. "You sure you're okay, Sara? You look pale."
Sara blinked and looked at her hands. They were trembling. "Just tired," she said softly. "Couldn't sleep much."
Kristi frowned. "You should sit for a bit. You're shaking."
Sara gave a weak smile and shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need to find Dean."
Tabitha stood. "He should be near the treeline behind Mark's house. That's where the search started."
Sara nodded. "Okay. Thanks."
She stepped outside again, leaving behind the confused and curious Kristi and Tabitha, both wondering why she was so desperate to find Dean—and why she looked so troubled and anxious.
Sara's heart was pounding. The vision still haunted her—Jim trapped, his voice hoarse from screaming for help. After confirming things with Kristi, her belief in the vision had grown stronger, but she still decided to share it with Dean before taking any action.
As she ran down the road toward the forest, one thought repeated in her mind.
If she....if the vision was right, Jim wasn't just missing.
He was buried alive and he didn't have much time.
Sara reached Mark's house fast, her boots kicking up dust as she ran. Her chest hurt from breathing so hard, but she didn't stop.
As she was about to enter, she saw someone stepping out from the trees. It was Dean, wiping sweat from his forehead, his shirt dirty from the search.
"Dean!" she shouted, her voice breaking.
Dean looked up quickly. He had already noticed someone running toward him but hadn't expected it to be Sara. Seeing how shaken she looked, he frowned and walked toward her.
"Sara? Hey, what's wrong? You shouldn't be running like that," he said.
Sara stopped a few steps away, breathing hard, her hands on her knees. "Dean… I saw him," she said between breaths.
Dean's face tensed. "Who?"
"Jim," she said. "In a vision. He's alive—but trapped."
Dean's eyes narrowed. "Trapped where?"
"Not here," she said quickly, shaking her head. "It wasn't the forest. He's underground...inside a coffin, buried in the cemetery near Colony House."
Dean stared at her for a moment. "Sara… are you sure about this?"
Sara's breath came fast and uneven as she looked at Dean. "Dean… you know how my visions are," she said, her voice trembling but steady. "I can't say for sure if this one's real—but what if it is? If Jim's trapped somewhere out there, we can't just wait. We have to check."
Dean studied her face. Sweat beaded along her temples, her eyes wide but clear. She was terrified, but beneath that fear was conviction. What she said made sense. Even a one-percent chance Jim was alive was worth acting on.
He gave a short nod. "Alright," he said quietly. "We'll check the cemetery."
But even as he agreed, his thoughts turned heavy. Moving the search meant convincing people—and that was the real problem. He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "There's just one thing. How do we tell everyone about this and that too without starting another fight between the colony house and townsfolk?"
Sara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Dean glanced around to make sure no one was near. "I mean, we can't just walk up and say, 'Hey, Sara saw Jim buried alive in a vision.' You know how people are. Half of them will think we've lost it, and the rest will panic. We'll waste time trying to calm everyone down instead of digging."
Sara lowered her head, biting her lip. "So what do we do? We can't dig up the whole cemetery on our own."
Dean exhaled and spoke after thinking over it for a bit. "We tell them—but not everything. Not about the vision. Not yet."
Sara looked up, uncertain. "Then what do we say?"
"We keep it simple," Dean said. "You've got a strong feeling something's off near the cemetery. Say it hit you suddenly—like you couldn't ignore it. Around here, that's not hard to believe. This place messes with everyone's heads. The air, the trees, the silence—it does something to us. That feeling you had… maybe it wasn't just you. Maybe this place was trying to show you something."
Sara hesitated. "You think they'll believe that?"
Dean gave a half-smile, though there was no humor in it. "They don't need to believe it. They just need to move. You've been here long enough. People trust your instincts more than they'd ever trust mine. If it comes from you, they'll listen."
Sara's jaw tightened. "And if they don't?"
Dean's gaze hardened slightly. "Then you make them. Be stubborn about it. If they say no, tell them you'll search alone. That'll get through to them. No one here wants to risk losing another person—not after everything we've seen."
Sara took a deep breath, nodding slowly. The fear in her eyes didn't fade, but something else took its place—a kind of quiet defiance. "Alright," she said. "If they don't listen, I'll go myself. I'm not letting someone die because I was too scared to sound crazy."
"Good," Dean said, his voice low but approving. "That's the attitude we need right now. If we're right, we save Jim. If not… we lose nothing."
Sara gave a nervous laugh, barely more than a breath. "Well… except for everyone calling me crazy."
Dean's mouth twitched. "Yeah, maybe. But better crazy than doing nothing."
That earned a small, tired smile from her. The tension in her shoulders eased a little. "Okay," she said. "Let's go."
Dean nodded, then hesitated, shifting his weight slightly. "Yeah, we will. Just—give me one minute, alright?"
Sara frowned. "Why? What is it?"
He gave a small, sheepish shrug. "I didn't exactly get the chance to stop while we were out searching earlier. Had to leave the others for a minute back there—nature called. Didn't think I'd be heading right back out this soon."
Sara blinked, then just exhaled softly. "Okay."
Dean gave a short nod and jogged toward Mark's house. "Won't take long," he called back over his shoulder.
A minute later, Dean came back out, wiping his hands on his jeans and taking a steadying breath. "Alright," he said, his tone back to calm resolve. "Let's move."
Together, they stepped into the forest. The air shifted around them—quieter, colder. Somewhere ahead, a faint sound echoed through the trees. Maybe a twig. Maybe a voice. Sara tensed but didn't stop walking.
Dean's words from earlier echoed faintly in her mind, grounding her in that thin thread of courage she was clinging to.
Better crazy than useless.