A couple of things: This assumes that Adam survives the Apocalypse, staying among the living, and this story is told from an outsider's point of view, which is a first for me.

Also, we're going to play a game at the end. Enjoy!

Thanks to geminigrl11, and as usual, I own nothing.

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The Good Samaritan

"Amanda Graystone."

"Amanda, what are you doing? You're supposed to be on call in the RD's office."

"Oh. Hi, Brooke," Amanda replied, turning the car radio down. She was only getting static anyway. "Kara's filling in for me."

"Where are you?"

"I had some errands to run."

There was a pause before the other woman spoke. "You're out there again, aren't you?"

Busted. "Brooke, this is the last night. It's only three nights every two years, I didn't want to miss a chance." She'd searched the road as a sophomore, but found nothing.

"Manda...girl do you know what Mr. Sykes will do if he catches you goofing off on the job, again?"

"I'm not goofing off." Amanda hissed. Brooke meant well, but her negativity could be very irritating.

"You're driving around in circles in the woods, looking for things that don't exist. That's worse than goofing off. And Kara isn't paid to be an RD, you are."

"The lore says three nights at the end of February in a leap year. If I ever want to find it, I need to be out here looking for it." Amanda replied, ignoring the fact about Kara.

"Oi. You want to spend the night driving in circles, looking for a ghost that has a regular schedule, and then only during a leap year?"

"That's right."

"That's stupid! Ghosts aren't real, hun. You're chasing an urban legend."

Amanda glanced around at the tall, dark forest passing around her. "Trust me, this is as far from urban as you can get in Ohio."

Her logic was greeted with a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. But, if Sykes asks, I'm not covering for you, again."

"Yeah, you are."

"Okay, fine, I am, but you owe me big!"

"I'm good for it," Amanda shot back, smiling.

"Yeah, right. Just don't get the car dirty. I need to borrow it this weekend."

Amanda's retort was cut off by a click on the other end. She pocketed her phone, and sighed. The woods were deserted, just like they'd been the past three nights. Nothing moved, not even animals. It was the coldest night of the year so far, and the temperature had been plummeting since she left campus. Amanda's breath was fogging, even in the car with the heat blasting.

She dropped her head against the steering wheel. "What are you doing? Brooke's right, this is stupid."

Raising her head, Amanda cried out and slammed on the brakes as a man staggered into the road, emerging from a clump of bushes, clutching his side. He stumbled to a stop in front of the car as it slid to a halt.

He looked like he'd been put through a meat grinder. His right side and stomach were bloody, a deep gash and some bruises marring his otherwise handsome face. He was also obviously solid. This was no ghost.

Not that she would have known one if she saw one. She'd only been ghost hunting for four years, and had found little besides a lot of dusty rooms and aggravated bats. But, she'd never given up, not since the night she'd heard her parents' voices…three years after their deaths. Amanda had been fascinated---Brooke called it obsessed---ever since, and had even changed her focus from accounting to theology and myth.

The man was saying something. Oh. Crap. Amanda shook herself out of her reverie and rolled down her window. "Are you okay, Mister?"

"Help me. Please...." He pleaded quietly in a deep voice, moving haltingly to the driver's side window. He kept his arms wrapped around his obviously injured midsection.

"What happened to you?" Amanda asked, wanting to get out and help, but wary. She wasn't keen on picking up strangers in the middle of the night, even if they looked like they were barely standing.

"We were attacked..."

Amanda looked him over again. Attacked by what? He looked like he'd been shredded. Maybe he's been attacked by the ghost... Amanda racked her memory. Was the Route 108 ghost supposed to be dangerous? She didn't recall any reports of that, but the Ghostfacers site had mentioned that ghosts could get violent.

"Can you help me? No one will stop. I need help...."

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and moved to help him into the car. Geez, he's huge! The man was easily two heads taller than her, with broad shoulders. He was wearing several layers, but even then she could see that he was well built. If she had to guess, she'd say he was in his mid-thirties, but his eyes appeared a great deal older.

He stepped back in alarm when she got close. Amanda held up her hands. "I won't hurt you. I just want to get you to a hospital."

"No!" He stepped back again, closer to the front of the car. "No hospital. No cops. Can't.... I can't---"

Panic was beginning to show on his face. Is he on the run or something? Her initial worry about getting out and helping him returned, but she pushed it down and tried to be as calm as possible. He was still mumbling and shaking his head when she stepped back out of his personal space.

"Okay! Okay. Just calm down. I won't call anyone. But, you're bleeding...."

"I'll be fine. I just gotta find my brother."

"Your brother?" Amanda repeated uncertainly. "Is...is he out here, too?"

"We were attacked. Car--- Got separated. Gotta---gotta find him..."

The man was clearly disoriented. He needed a doctor, but Amanda doubted he'd listen until he calmed down. "All right. You were in a car?"

He turned and looked at her, meeting her eyes directly for the first time. "Car. Yes. I was pulled out. After the crash, but...dragged. I couldn't get away. They wouldn't listen."

All kinds of questions were filling her head, but Amanda didn't want to spook the man again. Instead, she gestured to her car and spoke slowly. "If you get in, I'll help you find your car. Will you get in the car?"

It was a good place to start. Maybe the brother was with the car. The man considered her for a moment, and for the first time, she noticed how piercing his gaze was. His eyes seemed to bore right through her, sizing her up. It was somewhat discomfiting, but she didn't feel threatened.

Finally, the man nodded, and walked slowly, uncertainly, around to the passenger side and got in. Amanda took a deep breath, then returned to her seat. Closing the door, she turned to face him again. "Do you remember where the car was?"

He thought for a moment. "S'close. Been looking for it...hard to see in the dark...."

"You think you'd recognize the area if we go look? I'll help you."

Another uncertain pause. "Yes. I think. Gotta find my brother...."

She wanted to reach out and try to calm him, but when she moved, he curled up against the passenger side door. She pulled back and tried a different approach. "My name's Amanda."

He watched her for a moment, and she imagined she could see the wheels turning in his head. "S-Sam."

"It's nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam just stared at her blankly. Clearing her throat, Amanda put the car in the drive and started forward slowly before realizing that she wasn't sure where to go. "Do you...have any idea how far the car is?"

"S'close. There were some trees...."

Amanda blinked, wondering if that was a joke. Sam wasn't smiling though; he just appeared confused. With nothing else to go on, she played along, hoping to pull some better details out of him. "Trees. Okay. Well, we'll keep going this way and maybe we'll find something that'll jog your memory."

They rode in silence for several minutes. Even with the heat blowing through the vents, the car got so quiet Amanda had to keep looking to make sure Sam was still beside her. When she couldn't take the silence anymore, she looked over and cleared her throat. "So, um, can you tell me what happened? You said you were attacked."

She hated to admit it, but she was hoping he would say something about the ghost that haunted this road. Her exciting ghost hunt had taken off on a bizarre tangent.

Sam curled tighter around himself at the question. "Hunters." The air in the car seemed to get even colder when he said it. In one breath, she heard pain, anger and terror all rolled into one.

"Hunters? Like...deer hunters or something?" Amanda asked, cranking the heat up.

He looked at her, again seeming to stare right through her. "Hunters. They ambushed us. Tires blew out. Hit the trees. Someone grabbed me, dragged me away. Wouldn't listen...."

That...sounded crazy. People did this? From Sam's appearance, whoever they were must have been trying to kill him. And they were probably still around. Maybe it wasn't so safe coming out here, she thought with a shudder.

On the other hand, Sam would almost certainly have died out in these woods if she hadn't run across him. Maybe that was Divine intervention. She'd heard it could happen.

"What about your brother?" she asked, tentatively. Sam seemed to get anxious when that subject came up. He was so worked up, she didn't want to add to his distress.

"Gotta find him...." Sam muttered, eyes scanning the woods as they went past.

She frowned. Not helpful. Maybe Sam had a concussion. Or maybe it was the blood loss. His side and stomach looked bad. She wanted to at least offer some first aid, maybe keep some pressure on the wounds, but Sam was too skittish. From the look of his clothes, she was amazed he was even still conscious. Amanda tried to sound as comforting as possible. "I'm sure he's fine."

If someone had hurt Sam this badly, it was doubtful his brother had any fared better. She decided not to point that out. She needed to find Sam's car and then try and convince him to let her call an ambulance.

They'd traveled about five miles when Sam suddenly pointed, becoming excited. Amanda followed his gaze and saw the glint of her car's headlights on something large and metallic just off the road. She pulled the car to a stop along the road, a few yards away. The object appeared to be a vehicle.

Climbing out, Amanda grabbed a flashlight from the backseat. Sam seemed to move incredibly fast for someone so badly injured. He was out of the car before she turned back with the flashlight. He was walking quickly but clumsily away from the road.

"Sam! Wait! You need to be careful!"

Amanda followed, frowning when her flashlight flickered. The batteries were new. Cheap piece of crap. She caught up with Sam as he reached the car. It was an old one. Classic cars were her brother's hobby, but it looked like a sixties or seventies era Chevy Impala. She'd seen a picture of one on a Classic Cars of the Twentieth Century calendar at her brother's apartment. It looked to be well cared for, too. The paint was still shiny, the chrome pristine.

The back end was all right, but the front was totaled. Steam and smoke rose from beneath the crumpled hood. The tires were blown, just as Sam had said. Apparently, that had driven the car off the road into the trees. A thick, broken tree branch stretched through the shattered windshield and had impaled the driver's seat. Amanda gasped. If anyone had walked away from this besides Sam, it was a miracle.

Sam didn't seem to share her pessimistic appraisal. He leaned on the car for support, staggering forward, eyes searching the dark forest around them. "Dean!"

No one answered, but Sam didn't give up. "Dean? Are you out here? Dean!"

"Sammy!" A voice called back. Amanda jumped back, startled when another man, probably closer to forty and also badly injured, emerged from the shadowy tree line and staggered toward Sam. "Sam!"

"Dean!" Sam shouted back, elation lighting up his face. It was such a drastic shift from how he'd looked in the car that for a moment, Amanda could have swore he looked years younger.

The two men embraced, Sam sagging weakly against the man who was apparently his brother. Sam was the first to speak. "I looked for so long."

"I know, Sammy," Dean replied quietly, but happily. Amanda could just barely hear him. "Took us a while, but we finally got the timing right."

Amanda was lost. The conversation she was hearing wasn't making any sense, it was freezing cold, and her flashlight was on the fritz. She let the men have a moment, then cleared her throat. "Uh, look, I know you two must be happy to see each other, but…Sam needs a hospital. We should go."

Sam and Dean turned to her with odd expressions, as though noticing her for the first time. They shared a look. Sam was the first to speak. He seemed close to tears. "Thank you. It's been so long."

The sheer emotion on his face---both their faces---was so powerful that Amanda had to look away. When her own emotions were under control, she turned back. "Look, I'm happy I was able to help, but you really need a hosp---"

They were gone.

Amanda blinked a few times, eyes darting left and right. She was completely alone. "Sam? Dean? What the---?"

Her flashlight suddenly relit, aimed at the wrecked Chevy. She gasped in shock. The car had changed, rusted, paint peeled, a pile of old junk. Amanda stared at it in fascination, and not a small amount of terror. "That's not possible."

Unsure of what possessed her, Amanda cautiously stepped forward, shining her light along the wreck's length. The car looked completely different. It had been sitting there for years. She didn't know how she could have not seen it earlier.

Oh my God…. Amanda gasped. The ghost that haunted this road…had it been Sam all along? She had dismissed it earlier, simply because he had seemed so…real. She even smelled the blood that darkened his clothes and had caught a whiff of his aftershave. If he had been a ghost, he certainly wasn't what she'd expected.

But, he was gone. Vanished into thin air, along with the man he called his brother. The car had transformed before her eyes. All the signs were pointing to Sam being the---thing? Being? Whatever she had been searching for, Sam seemed to be it.

She stopped her advance along the side of the wreck just before shining the light inside the front windows. Amanda spun around, ready to bolt. "I don't want to do this."

But something stopped her from running. She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered the first rule she read on the Ghostfacers website.

Figure out what you're up against.

Information. Amanda needed information. That's why I'm out here. Her courage reinforced, she turned back and stepped over to the car, shining the flashlight inside. The interior was as bad as the outside. Exposure to the elements hadn't done the car any favors. Ominous dark stains marred the rotted leather seats and the inside of the passenger side door.

The worst part, though, was right in front of her. The tree limb that had impaled the driver's seat…hadn't just impaled the seat. A desiccated and crumbling pile of bones was strewn across the seat. Ragged remains of clothing dangled from the limbs, moving minutely in the light breeze. A glint of light drew her gaze back to the seat. Atop the remains, a black necklace held a small bronze amulet of some kind.

The real prize, though, lay on the seat. A black, dirt-encrusted cell phone. Amanda reached out to pick it up, but hesitated. Ghost hunting was one thing, but she seemed to be on the verge of grave robbing, which didn't appeal to her at all. She bit her lip, weighing the options.

The phone might be useless. Its battery was undoubtedly dead, and the elements could have damaged it beyond repair. Taking it could be a waste of time.

On the other hand, if it could be salvaged…surely Sam and Dean had relatives, right?

In the end, her decision wasn't that hard.

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It took a few days, and a few favors from Rob in the Engineering Department on campus, but Amanda had salvaged the SIM card from the old phone. The model wasn't made anymore, but Rob had managed to jury-rig a way to get the information off the old card.

A list of names and phone numbers being the most important.

Amanda stared at the list. Several numbers were already crossed off. She'd tried about half a dozen, and they were all disconnected.

Her approach was anything but logical. Rob and Brooke had suggested started at the top, "like a normal person," but Amanda had chosen to go with her gut. The names weren't in alphabetical order, indicating another method of organizing. They might be in order of importance, or of relationship.

"Cas" and "Bobby" were dead ends. "Chuck" had been a wrong number, or so the panicked voice on the other end had disjointedly told her. "Lisa" had gone to voicemail. Amanda had left a vague message, hoping to get something back.

Staring at the last few names on her list, Amanda prayed that her next choice would yield better results.

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A/N – It's up to you! Please choose the next number Amanda dials:

If you want her to dial "Sarah," proceed to chapter 2.

If you want her to dial "Adam," proceed to chapter 3.

TBC