10. Something Wicked

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The Impala drove down a country road.

"Yeah, you probably missed something, that's what," Dean said.

"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?"

"Yeah, I double-checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy."

Sam began getting frustrated. "Well, I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something I don't know what."

"Well maybe he's going to meet us there," Cassidy guessed.

"Yeah. 'Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point."

"You're a real smart-ass, you know that?" Dean said. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam asked.

"'Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."

"No it doesn't," Sam and Cassidy argued.

"It totally does."

Dean glanced at Sam and Cassidy, then looked back at the road with a little grin. The Impala cruised past the sign for Fitchburg, population 20,501.

They reached Fitchburg and Sam leaned against the Impala, staring straight ahead. Cassidy sat cross-legged on the hood. Dean crossed the road to his brother and Cassidy, holding two coffees from Glascow's Diner.

Dean handed Sam a coffee. "Well... the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, no one's heard about anything freaky going on."

"Dean, you got the time?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at his watch. "Ten after four. Why?"

Cassidy pointed to the park. "What's wrong with this picture?"

Sam and Cassidy had been watching the playground. It was deserted, only one child climbing around.

"School's out, isn't it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "So where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now."

A woman sat on a park bench reading a magazine. Dean approached.

"Sure is quiet out here," Dean commented.

"Yeah it's a shame," the woman agreed.

"Why's that?"

"You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing."

"How many?"

"Just five or six, but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."

They watched the little girl playing by herself.

The trio entered Dane County Memorial Hospital and approached the reception desk.

"Dude," Sam said. "Dude, I am not using this ID."

"Why not?" Dean asked, grinning.

"Because it says Bikini Inspector on it."

"Don't worry, she won't look that close, all right? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy." He spun Sam to face the desk and kept walking.

The receptionist looked up.

"Hi," Sam greeted. "I'm Doctor Jerry Caplin, from Disease Control."

"Can I see some ID?" the receptionist asked.

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