A Forest in the Dark
Watkins Point, Utah was a wilderness area riddled with mines and caves. The closest town was twenty miles away. A farm town. The distance of the town from the wilderness area didn't stop animals from going missing every day. Something was using Watkins Point as a hunting ground. And Dean had caught wind of it while looking for their next hunt. He'd found a newspaper article with a picture of an animal track in the mud. Alarm bells went off for Dean. He'd seen a print like that before. He knew they had a hunt.
Now Sam was driving the Impala. One of the handful of times he'd driven since the semi plowed into them over a year ago. Has it really been over a year? He mused to himself, half listening to the new rock music playing softly in the background. He was listening enough to know that one of the Shinedown songs he liked was playing.
Dean was lounging in the passenger seat, asleep, with his arm propped up on the door panel. His head was resting on the back of his forearm as his hand lay back over his right shoulder against his neck. Sam had been driving for the last 200 miles and was beginning to get too comfortable behind the wheel of the car again. The memory of the wreck still bothered him. It was hard to get past the fact that he'd been driving when his dad and brother had come too close to getting killed. He didn't want to become careless and risk history repeating itself.
Sam shook himself from his reverie and glanced at Dean. He was okay, that was all that mattered to Sam. He glanced back at the road enough to see a sign. Welcome to Utah. Crossroads of the West.
"Good." Sam said quietly. He was tired and the Impala needed gas. He reached for his GPS and gauged the distance to the town nearest Watkins Point. He had about an hour of driving before he reached Gunnison. Then he could find them a motel and he and Dean could get some decent sleep before checking into and hopefully taking out their next hunt.