THE SEARCHERS
The day was morbidly suited for the search. A group of thirty people had gathered in the downtown parking lot beneath an imposing blanket of thick, cool fog. These types of event were never pleasant, and the grim faces showed a determined focus on behalf of the volunteers.
The police liaisons had briefed the crowd, but the details of the case were already well enough known that the small group of people didn’t learn anything that was not already common knowledge.
The thirteen-year-old girl had been on her way home from a friend’s house. She was last seen wearing jeans, a green jacket, and red toque. That had been three days ago, and none of her friends or local family members had seen or heard from her since then.
The group of anxious faces plotted out routes that would take them through the neighbourhood where the girl had last been seen. Ten groups of three would scour the ditches, parks, creeks, and alleys into which the young girl might have disappeared. They would search for some sign that the girl was alive and well.
Two dog trainers held up bags of the girl’s belongings for their well-trained canine assistants. The dogs buried their heads in the bags, excitedly sniffing the scents and locking them in. They were soon ready and started straining at the leashes, anxious to follow the scent.
It was like a game to the dogs, but their minders were far more serious. The girl’s stoic parents stood just off to the side, providing a handful of optimistic comments to the newspaper.
It was an extremely organized event. Of course, they were ready. This wasn’t the first girl to go missing, not even the first one this month, but they hoped she would be the last.
Nothing had been confirmed, and no official statements had been made due to an impossibly overwhelming lack of physical evidence, but it was growing apparent that there was a predator in the city. More than a dozen girls had disappeared in half as many months, and while it had started out slowly, the disappearances were escalating quickly.
He watched from the second story window as the group dispersed to the different points of the compass, dogs straining at leashes and people intently surveying their surroundings for clues. He slowly closed the vertical blinds, blocking out the murky fog that the sun was desperately trying to burn away.
He sat down at his desk and surveyed the stacks of paperwork and the family photo in its black wooden frame. They were a nice looking family. Photos were able to perfectly capture specific moments in time. This photo had captured a happy moment with a loving family. He opened the drawer to his right and glanced down at the fuzzy red toque.
Photos were not permanent though. The moments they captured could end in the blink of an eye.
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