Chapter 4

Victor let out a loud expletive as he realized that he hadn't seen a detour sign for too long a time and the road he was on was looking more and more like a barely maintained rural lane. Damn! How the hell had this happened? He would have sworn that he hadn't missed a turnoff, but the night was dark with no moon and had been getting steadily foggy for the past 45 minutes. Victor was frustrated, but he marshaled himself together and considered his options. It wasn't by chance or because of some misguided bureaucratic attempt at affirmative action that Victor had been promoted to a leadership position. He had proven himself time and again to be a smart and determined investigator that wasn't deterred by setbacks and had long since won the loyalty of his team, even if they did sometimes grouse about his less than charming moments.

First thing to do was to take stock of what he knew, which unfortunately wasn't much. He had no idea where he was, just that the area was rural and densely wooded. He could keep going further on down the road or he could find a spot to turn the car around and see if he could retrace his path. Victor turned on the car radio to see if he could find a local station. That might give him an idea of just where the hell he was. But all he got from the radio was loud hissing and crackling static, so he turned the radio off.

Calling his team to see if they could locate him by the GPS chip in his cell phone wasn't an option because he had lost the phone signal way back at the start of the detour. He knew that because he had tried to update his team about the detour and had tried again at fifteen minute intervals. The frustrated agent decided that turning around would be the best option and, seeing an area that looked alright for making a three point turn, pulled off the road.

No sooner had he pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, then the car radio, despite having been turned off, started to make weird noises and the engine sputtered and died, followed immediately by the lights. Victor tried restarting the car, but nothing he did would get it running again. Maybe it was the bizarre circumstances or maybe it was the growing fog, but Victor suddenly felt uneasy. His gut was telling him that things were just not right, but he was stuck in the middle of nowhere and had only two options... stay with the car or head back along the road and look for help. He remembered seeing a house a mile or two back on the road, so he decided to head back in that direction. Locking the car and pocketing the keys, Victor unconsciously patted his gun and holster, ensuring that everything he needed was in place. He didn't expect to have problems following the road despite not having a flashlight. Once he found an occupied house, he would flash his badge and use their phone to contact his team. Piece of cake.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was well past dark when Dean finally awoke. Still stiff and sore, but feeling a lot less like death warmed over, and ready to eat a horse. He hoped that Sammy had something planned soon for dinner. Looking around the small cabin, he wondered where the heck Sam was at. Checking out the window and seeing the Impala was also missing, he vaguely remembered Sam muttering something about making a supply run to stock up on food and replenishing the first aid kit. 'OK... No problem there,' he thought, 'But what the hell is taking him so long?' The cabin may be well off the beaten path, but it still was only a twenty minute drive from town, give or take, and lunch had been hours ago, judging by his watch... and the state of his growling stomach. Dean's first reaction was assess the situation, years of training and hunting made it next to impossible to be completely relaxed when a member of his family wasn't present and accounted for. If it turned out that Sam was delayed for some benign reason, then he'd get pissed off; but until that time, Dean would be on alert and in full big brother mode.

It doesn't take that long to do a little shopping, and it was hardly like Sam would have taken a little detour to the local watering hole or found a willing girl to hook up with. Wuss! How the heck two such opposite guys could end up as brothers was a constant source of mystery and bewilderment for him. It didn't make him care any the less for his kid brother, but it did seem to present a never ending supply of obstacles to their just being able to relax together and enjoy each other's company.

They were close as brothers, but Dean truly regretted that they never seemed to be friends that could hang out and be comfortable together. He knew that he constantly exasperated Sam with his antics, his music ... well, the list just seemed to go on. Sam had been making an effort to be less critical lately. 'Solicitous of his short lived older brother.' The thought made Dean snort, but the truth was that Dean was indeed touched by this small evidence of his brother's love and concern; not that he'd admit it to Sammy. Not yet, anyway. Right now his emotional stability more closely resembled a house of cards, just waiting for the slightest touch to send it all toppling down. Somehow he'd have to manage to keep it together for the rest of his year. Remembering the look in his father's eyes that day, Dean understood what his dad had to be going through, trying to say goodbye without voicing the words. In a perverse way, having so short a time left was easier. Less time to brood, less need to be strong, just less everything. Thankful that his dad had managed to climb out of that pit, Dean dared hope that he too would get the opportunity.

Dean knew that Sam was taking the whole deal thing hard, but he also knew that Sam was strong and would recover from losing him. He had survived the loss of Dad, the loss of Jess. Sam had already shown that he could live without his family, make a new life for himself. He'd done it once already. Hell, he'd still be at Stanford if not for that damned yellow eyed demon. Sam was stronger than he gave himself credit for. Stronger than Dean himself was; because Dean had barely handled the loss of their dad, and failed utterly to face a life without Sam. What kind of a freak was he that he feared damnation less than trying to live without Sam?

Dean shook off his dark thoughts and got back to the business at hand. He needed to figure out what was keeping Sam so long. Going over to where his jacket was hanging on the back of a chair, he pulled out his cell phone and checked. Yup. He had three missed calls. 'Well, time to fix that.' , Dean decided as he dialed his brother's phone.

Sam answered on the first ring, his tone apologetic as he relayed the mechanic's prognosis of the problem with the Impala and how long it would take to fix. Dean was not happy about it, but decided he would take out his frustration on something other than his brother. From the way he sounded on the phone, Sammy must have been dreading having to tell him and getting more and more worked up about it as time passed and he couldn't get through. He'd suffered enough already, so Dean let him off the hook and acted cool about the whole deal. Hell, soon enough the Impala would be Sammy's anyway. He needed to learn how to do more than just pump gas into her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Walking back down the dark road, Victor started hearing strange noises in the distance and his really bad feeling just kept getting worse... Between the darkness and the fog, he couldn't see much of anything; but the feeling of being watched was growing stronger and stronger. Running over in his mind what kind of wild animals he might expect to see in such a rural area, Victor realized that he was such a city boy that he really had no idea if bears or cougars where native to this neck of the woods. His government issue weapon was designed to handle human predators, not wild animals; and while he had a full clip in his gun, all his spare ammo was back at his apartment or his desk at headquarters. After all, the last thing he expected on a visit to his grandmother was to be lost out in the wilderness.

Drawing his weapon but leaving the safety on, Victor felt less naked and more in control of the situation, though he really had no idea what the hell was going on. He continued down the road when suddenly a strange apparition appeared in front of him and he felt himself being tossed into the woods like a rag doll. Getting up, slightly dazed and disoriented, Victor heard a crashing noise behind him, so he stumbled through the woods away from the noise and the road. He still had his weapon and needed to look for a place to take a stand against whatever it was that was attacking him. He blindly made his through the woods, forced by the approaching sounds to seek shelter of any kind.

Victor was now far from the road and the uneven terrain is disorienting him, but he didn't dare stop because he could hear rustling and the sounds of something large in the undergrowth. He was certain that he was being stalked by some kind of wild animal and was prepared to fire as soon as he could get a clear shot. Slowly he made his way through the brush and trees, trying not to make too much noise when a high, piercing wail echoed around him. The sound had the hairs on the back of his neck fully raised. For at least 20 minutes, that nerve wreaking scream would break the silence as Victor tried to pin point its location, to no avail.

The beleaguered agent stumbled through the brush and trees completely lost. Gasping for air, he was forced to stop and try to catch his breath, leaning against a thick tree to keep from falling over. Still breathing heavily after his brief stop, Victor tried to see through the fog and darkness, hoping that there was a path he might find to follow. But there was nothing to be seen except the shadowy outlines of more trees and brush.

Suddenly a ghostly figure appeared in front of him and then flickered and disappeared. And then reappeared off to the side. Victor was unnerved and only a hairs breath away from panicking. What the hell was happening? He had no idea if it would help, but Victor released the safety on his gun and fired twice at the thing in front of him. For his efforts, Victor found himself once again flying through the air, this time landing on a fallen tree. Fierce pain seared through his leg and he realized that he had impaled his leg on the broken stub of a branch. Damn! He just wasn't getting any kind of break. But Victor believed you made your own luck, so he worked himself loose from the branch and struggling to his feet slowly turned in a circle to face his unseen opponent.

Victor called upon very ounce of training that he ever had and strained his senses to the limit, searching the darkness for any indication of where it was. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't a wild animal. Nor was it any kind of natural being, of that he was certain. Bullets were useless against it, but they were all he had. Victor silently laughed at the absurdity of still hoping to rely on his weapon, but recognized that the feel of it in his hand gave him a measure of calm and he desperately needed to keep his cool if he was to have any hope at all against his foe. So he continued to survey his surroundings, weapon at the ready. Finally his wait was over. The ghostly apparition appeared once more before him and slowly started to approach closer and closer.