laugh us out of the forest. And then probably lock us up.”
“So what did Bobby say?”
“He thinks he has a line on a weapon that might kill it. He wants one of us to go with him to the bay area. I called Jason for backup. He’s meeting us at the trailhead.”
They started walking back, keeping an eye out for hikers. The trees grew thick in this area, broken only by large expanses of grey granite. They ducked and bent, moving through a particularly dense section of pines, and Dean heard something moving ahead of them. “Sam!” he whispered.
They squatted behind a boulder. Footsteps drew nearer, something big and bipedal moving through the underbrush.
They waited tensely and it grew closer. Dean stood up suddenly, bringing his .45 to bear.
From around a bend in the trail, a hiker with a huge backcountry pack appeared, face lit up and grinning beneath a shock of blond hair.
Dean stepped out, flashing his F.B.I. badge. “This area’s been closed off.”
The hiker’s face fell. “What? I’ve been planning this trip for ages. Finally got the time off.”
Sam emerged, showing his F.B.I. I.D. as well. “Sorry, sir. There’s a manhunt in progress.”
The hiker’s eyes went wide, and he glanced around nervously. “Manhunt? Like, serial killer manhunt?”
Sam took the man’s elbow and turned him around on the path. “The sooner you return to your vehicle and leave the area, the better.”
Looking thoroughly spooked, the hiker did as he was told, moving at a quick pace back the way he’d come. Sam and Dean followed at a distance, making sure he got back to the trailhead safely. Soon they reached the parking area, and watched while the man loaded his pack into his car and drove off.
While they waited, they turned away two couples and a guy with a dog.
Soon they heard the rumble of Jason’s truck. He pulled in next to the Impala and got out, lifting a hand in greeting. Hefting a pack out of the passenger side, he slung it on his back.
He strode over to them. “So, what kind of fight are we looking at?”
“Big,” Dean said.
“Mean,” Sam added. “Seriously bad news.”
“So how do we fight it?”
“Bobby’s figuring that out now,” Dean told him.
Jason looked around the forest. “We can’t just wait around. People are hiking into these woods all the time. I made two people turn back on the road just now. Told them some crazy story about a pack of rabid dogs. I think they were more scared of me than my story.”
“One of us has to go to the coast with Bobby to get what we need for a weapon.”
“It’ll work?”
“We’re not sure yet. But it’s the best lead we’ve got.”
Jason sized up Dean. “You up for staying out here with me, fending that thing off?”
Dean felt a slight pang of something within him. It felt good to be needed. “Sounds good. Sam, you go with Bobby. We’ll stay here and patrol, try to discourage people from spending the night out here until you two get back.”
Sam shifted his weight. “You sure, Dean?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“All right. Sounds like a plan.”
Some tiny part of himself that Dean was ashamed to admit was there felt a little hurt at Sam’s nonchalant answer. So Dean would stay out here, fighting this thing, while Sam headed off to the bay with Bobby. He could remember a time when Sam wouldn’t have left his side. Now it seemed like Dean was merely an afterthought, and sometimes not even that.
“Okay,” Dean said. “That’s the plan.”
A few minutes later, Bobby’s van pulled up in the trailhead lot, its tires crunching on the gravel. He stepped out. “Jason,” he said in greeting.
“Good to see you again, Bobby,” the other hunter answered.
Bobby eyed Dean. “You boys going to be okay out here on your own?”
Dean nodded. “Someone’s got to keep people from entering this thing’s territory.”
Sam put his gear into the backseat of Bobby’s van and rejoined them. “Be safe, Dean.”
Bobby
“So what did Bobby say?”
“He thinks he has a line on a weapon that might kill it. He wants one of us to go with him to the bay area. I called Jason for backup. He’s meeting us at the trailhead.”
They started walking back, keeping an eye out for hikers. The trees grew thick in this area, broken only by large expanses of grey granite. They ducked and bent, moving through a particularly dense section of pines, and Dean heard something moving ahead of them. “Sam!” he whispered.
They squatted behind a boulder. Footsteps drew nearer, something big and bipedal moving through the underbrush.
They waited tensely and it grew closer. Dean stood up suddenly, bringing his .45 to bear.
From around a bend in the trail, a hiker with a huge backcountry pack appeared, face lit up and grinning beneath a shock of blond hair.
Dean stepped out, flashing his F.B.I. badge. “This area’s been closed off.”
The hiker’s face fell. “What? I’ve been planning this trip for ages. Finally got the time off.”
Sam emerged, showing his F.B.I. I.D. as well. “Sorry, sir. There’s a manhunt in progress.”
The hiker’s eyes went wide, and he glanced around nervously. “Manhunt? Like, serial killer manhunt?”
Sam took the man’s elbow and turned him around on the path. “The sooner you return to your vehicle and leave the area, the better.”
Looking thoroughly spooked, the hiker did as he was told, moving at a quick pace back the way he’d come. Sam and Dean followed at a distance, making sure he got back to the trailhead safely. Soon they reached the parking area, and watched while the man loaded his pack into his car and drove off.
While they waited, they turned away two couples and a guy with a dog.
Soon they heard the rumble of Jason’s truck. He pulled in next to the Impala and got out, lifting a hand in greeting. Hefting a pack out of the passenger side, he slung it on his back.
He strode over to them. “So, what kind of fight are we looking at?”
“Big,” Dean said.
“Mean,” Sam added. “Seriously bad news.”
“So how do we fight it?”
“Bobby’s figuring that out now,” Dean told him.
Jason looked around the forest. “We can’t just wait around. People are hiking into these woods all the time. I made two people turn back on the road just now. Told them some crazy story about a pack of rabid dogs. I think they were more scared of me than my story.”
“One of us has to go to the coast with Bobby to get what we need for a weapon.”
“It’ll work?”
“We’re not sure yet. But it’s the best lead we’ve got.”
Jason sized up Dean. “You up for staying out here with me, fending that thing off?”
Dean felt a slight pang of something within him. It felt good to be needed. “Sounds good. Sam, you go with Bobby. We’ll stay here and patrol, try to discourage people from spending the night out here until you two get back.”
Sam shifted his weight. “You sure, Dean?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“All right. Sounds like a plan.”
Some tiny part of himself that Dean was ashamed to admit was there felt a little hurt at Sam’s nonchalant answer. So Dean would stay out here, fighting this thing, while Sam headed off to the bay with Bobby. He could remember a time when Sam wouldn’t have left his side. Now it seemed like Dean was merely an afterthought, and sometimes not even that.
“Okay,” Dean said. “That’s the plan.”
A few minutes later, Bobby’s van pulled up in the trailhead lot, its tires crunching on the gravel. He stepped out. “Jason,” he said in greeting.
“Good to see you again, Bobby,” the other hunter answered.
Bobby eyed Dean. “You boys going to be okay out here on your own?”
Dean nodded. “Someone’s got to keep people from entering this thing’s territory.”
Sam put his gear into the backseat of Bobby’s van and rejoined them. “Be safe, Dean.”
Bobby
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