Sam spent the rest of the day in an uncomfortable sort of anticipation. Dean passed the hours by checking and re-checking equipment, going over strategies with Sam and Angie, and ensuring everything was cleaned and properly loaded.

He thought he had the entire thing worked out in his mind—where they would set up, how long it would take to get the creature into the gorge—how fast he'd have to run—they'd gone over and over it again, and again.

It didn't stop the flutter of nervousness in his chest.

Robert tried, at various times, to find a way to join the group, but all three were firmly in agreement on that point. Each one of them knew that if he tried to go, he'd somehow end up risking his life unnecessarily. As the sun drew close to setting he ended up in a melancholy in front of the small television, watching his sister prepare equipment with a sour expression.

"Are we ready?" Dean came through the door with his leather jacket, on despite the heat, the collar upturned slightly.

Angela flinched as she jostled her shoulder, but nodded. "Yeah. I think I've got everything here."

"Machete?"

She pulled out a trio of long, thick knives. "Check."

Robert came up behind her, gathering her hair into a messy knot and tying it back.

"Thanks," she said, craning around to look at him.

"Angelita…"

"Please, just…"

He wrapped an arm around her neck. "No te mueres, eh? Nadie," he added, glancing over at Dean and Sam.

"Esperoque no," replied Dean.

She patted her brother's arm, then pulled away from him. "Don't worry, okay? I trust these guys."

Dean flashed him a grin. She caught the expression. "Except maybe him."

"Hey."

"We'll take care of her," said Sam, gathering up the rest of her stuff. He squared his shoulders, glancing at his brother. "You ready?"

Dean nodded at him. "Let's do this."

They gathered into the Impala a few moments later, trundling down the rocky driveway—Dean grimacing all the way—and drove down Los Cruces in the direction of the setting sun.

Sam could see Robert watching them until they turned the corner, his thin silhouette shadowed by a backdrop of blood red sky.

They reached the canyon at dusk, and began pulling out the equipment for the set-up at the bridge. Angela kept a close watch as they hauled everything out towards the metal span, alert for any change in the wind, smell, or noises of the area.

They worked quickly and efficiently, Dean shedding his coat after a few minutes of hauling gear.

By the time night had settled upon the canyon area, they had everything pretty much ready to go.

There was no sign of the cadejo anywhere. Sam had hoped, in a way, it might venture beyond the canyon, towards the noises. It would save him the trouble of searching through the ridge for it.

Dean tapped his fingers on the tranquilizer rifle uncomfortably, knowing what had to happen next, but reluctant to ask it. Sam took a breath.

"I think I better go ahead and head in."

Dean swallowed. "Yeah…"

Angela handed him a machete, encased in a leather sheath. "If it gets too close, you do what you can."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Right."

His brother watched as he turned towards the bridge. "Hey Sam,"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you try and be the hero, now. You run, that's it, understand?"

"I know."

"I mean it, Sammy. That's ALL you do, you got it?"

"I got it. Don't worry, Dean, I'll be fine."

"Yeah."

He took another breath, and marched forward, across the bridge.

Dean watched Sam cross the bridge, a knot in his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, meditating on the silence around them, then squared his shoulders, and moved towards his position at the end.

Angela was leaning up against one of the thin trees, tapping the knife she'd been keeping for him against her leg.

"You sure your brother's not coming behind us?" Dean asked, trying to alleviate some of the tension in the air. "He's not going to steal the truck and make a grand appearance in the middle of this, is he?

She didn't look at him, just dug in her jeans for a pair of key chains. "Truck keys."

He snorted. "Jeez. I'm glad you're not my sister."

"Yeah." Her eyes were dark, focused on ridge in front of them, where they'd last seen Sam. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"Who, Sam? Yeah, Sam will be fine."

"You're pretty confident."

He shrugged. "Sam knows how to survive; don't you go worrying about him."

She sighed. "Right."

"You better go back to the car."

She glanced at him, but didn't move.

"Angela…"

"A few more minutes. Until we know he's on his way back."

Sam trod through the brush, .45 raised, keeping an ear out on the noises of the night around him. Nothing was out of the ordinary, so far. There was no smell, nothing fresh, at least, and no sound of anything coming.

Given how the cadejo had been stalking them a few days ago, there was no telling which part of the forest it made its den. But Sam headed towards the north end, where he'd been before, to see if he could find some sign of a discernable trail.

There was no trace of the cadejo, at least that he could make out.

When he'd gotten too far from the crevice for comfort, he turned back, keeping alert to the sounds around him.

He scouted the south next, near where Angela and Dean had gotten attacked. There wasn't anything amiss here, either. The birds were still calling; he could even hear the sounds of the lake wildlife floating up and over the mesa.

Sam turned back towards the ridge, slightly frustrated.

The wind was howling lightly in front of the opening to the path. He walked back towards it slowly, glancing down the edge of the ridge to where Dean said he'd found the wolf. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary that way, either.

He stood in front of the crevice, taking a breath, and looked around once more. The wind shifted direction, blowing sharply from the east, across the top of the mesa.

The smell reached him all at once, sharp and thick, floating in waves towards him. He whirled around, searching frantically for some sign of the cadejo.

Above him, the birds darted from the trees in a flurry of sound and shadow.

He looked up.

Something was streaking haphazardly through the brush covering the top of Devil's Hoof, right above his head.

He leapt back as the cadejo charged down the mesa, red eyes glimmering, fishtailing down the soft slope. It made its clattering-like growl as it leapt the last ten feet, springing into the air, towards him.

Sam turned, darting into the ridge as fast as he could, leaping over the roots and slick moss, stumbling, crawling out of the ravine; the creature's frantic panting just over his shoulder. His heart was pounding; he could feel the thing's breath on the back of his neck.

He burst from the opening, breathing in the clear air on the riverside, scrambling towards the bridge. When he had footing he turned back, towards the beast, which had made its way out of the crevice and was rushing towards him, teeth bared.

He got off three shots as he turned for the bridge. The cadejo wasn't fazed, just kept coming.

"DEAN!" he shouted, catching sight of the bridge ahead of him. He scrambled for it, almost on all fours, making it and barely hesitating as the bridge's thin metal clattered and trembled beneath him. "DEAN!"

The creature slammed into the bridge supports, rattling it with unbelievable power. Sam grabbed for the rails as it tilted to the side, shaking and wobbling under the force of the blow. He caught his footing and crawled down the last few feet, turning as he stood, waiting.

Dean was in front of him, the tranquilizer gun raised. Angela was in the far shadows, tensed, watching with large eyes as his brother took aim. He turned around behind him, raising the shotgun level.

Nothing was there.

Dean cast about with the gun, looking from one side to the other. The metal of the bridge wobbled and clattered, but the creature wasn't on it. There were no ripples in the water, and they'd heard no splash. Somehow, it had simply vanished.

"What…what the hell just happened?" Sam panted, trying to catch his breath. "It was right behind me!"

"I know, we saw it!" Dean yelled, keeping the rifle raised. "It must have seen me move in with the gun and gone in the water."

"Without making a splash?" Sam shook his head. "I don't like this. This thing isn't just a normal wolf, Dean. It acts like a wendigo or a skinwalker. It's almost human in intelligence."

"No kidding. And twice as strong."

They listened in silence for a moment. Nothing disturbed the nighttime on this side of the riverbank. Angela walked over to them, handing Sam a shotgun.

"You need to go back to the car," Dean said, finally lowering the gun.

"Are you kidding? No way."

"Angela…"

"I'm not being brave. There's no way I'm walking back to the car by myself. That thing could have leapt the river. I'm staying with the guns."

He stared at her for a moment. "Fine. Just…stay close."

She pulled her pistol from the back of her jeans. "Consider me out of the way. I'm no martyr."

Sam stood, pumping the shotgun once to load the chamber. "I have to go back."

"Nope. You're staying here."

"Dean, if it crossed back over…"

"It didn't. It's around here, somewhere by the river. That thing is smart—damn smart—and it's using this as a chance to get the jump on us. You go back and it'll have you drawn and quartered within five minutes."

"Well, what can we do? We can't just stand around here and hope it comes to us. We need to find it and lure it out."

Dean paused for a moment, glancing at Angie. She shrugged her shoulders. "We know it's out of the canyon, but that's all we've got."

"Look…we've pulled it out as far as the river. I'll go back across, you two scout on this end."

His brother stared at him.

"I'll stay on the riverbank."

Dean exhaled, then nodded. "Be careful."

"You too."

He made his way back to the bridge, slowly setting foot on the metal. It was still wobbly, but the cadejo hadn't done any lasting damage. He could see Angela and his brother making their way along the riverbank, guns raised.

He raised his shotgun, and started off across the bridge, covering it in a few quick strides, hoping the cadejo wouldn't decide to drop in again.

Dean kept careful watch on the shadowy bank near the river's edge, gun raised. Angela stepped close beside him, just as watchful.

Around him, the sounds of the night had died away, though he couldn't tell if it was because of the creature's presence or the sudden appearance it had made a few moments ago. There was a lingering odor nearby, but nothing pungent like they'd smelled a few nights before.

It was watching them. He could feel it.

"I feel like I'm the middle of Cujo," Angela hissed.

He made a face to keep her quiet, then leaned in. "Or a Paris Hilton horror flick."

"Please. Don't insult the cadejo."

Something snapped behind them; they whirled around, stopping for a moment to listen. Angela glanced at him, wide-eyed. He nodded, motioning them to step back.

The water lapped quietly against the banks. There was nothing in the brush, nothing red or glimmering creeping through the darkness.

Dean took a step back, releasing the tension in his shoulders.

The river exploded behind him.

Angela jumped back as the cadejo leapt from the water, scrambling up the bank towards them. It had reached them before Dean had the chance to move, strong paws, thick as hooves, swiping at him, knocking him backwards.

The rifle was torn from his hands; he fumbled around his belt for where he'd sheathed his machete, but the cadejo had its paws on his chest, bearing down on him. The creature swiped at his face, claws scratching down his face and neck.

He yelled out as the long fangs bit down into his shoulder, tearing into the skin.

There were three rapid bursts of light and the cadejo released him, leaping backwards. Another two and the wolf-thing dashed out of sight, into the darkness of the brush.

Angela bent down over him, machete in her injured arm, which was out of the sling. She fumbled with his shirt, pulling it back past his ripped-up shoulder. "I think I hit it," she said, checking over the bite marks. "It missed the carotid; but it tore you up pretty badly. Can you stand?"

"Yeah." He pulled himself up, his shoulder burning fiercely. "What made it run?"

"I shot at it four or five times…but when I reached for the machete, that's when it took off. Guess these things really do scare it."

She helped him to his feet, her injured arm trembling. He bent down, gathering the rifle. "At least we know it's starting to work," he said weakly, trying to stretch out his shoulder. It hurt like hell.

He fumbled in his pockets, pulling out his phone. "We need to find Sam. Call him, and tell him it's on our side of the river."

Sam glanced down at the tracks on the dirt edging the river. If what he was seeing was right, the beast had jumped into the water.

Which meant it was on Dean's side.

There was a shout somewhere down along the river's edge, to the west. He rose, heading upriver, following the flurry of sound.

Five pops rang out across from him. There was a roar, and suddenly the brush shuddered as something tore through it. He skidded to a halt, squinting through the darkness, hoping to catch sight of the cadejo.

A shadow dashed through the trees across from him. Sam stopped, trying to keep still, finger on the trigger of his shotgun.

The thing continued on, past him, towards the bridge. When the cadejo was out of sight, he glanced down at the dark, murky water.

The shout hadn't been Angela. It had been a male voice.

Dean…

Any further downriver and the cadejo could be waiting for him. He scanned the woods for a moment, then reached for his phone, putting it and the shotgun over his head, and waded into the murky water.

It was fast-moving and deep; the current pulled at his body, making it almost impossible to keep the gun and phone above the water. He finally lowered the gun towards the surface, using it to pull himself across. Something skimmed by his legs as he caught his footing; he closed his eyes, letting it pass and not bothering to see what it might have been.

As he clambered up the bank, his phone vibrated.

"Dean," he whispered. "You okay? I heard yelling."

"Angela," replied a female voice. "Dean's been attacked."

"What? Is he all right?"

"He's fine, but Sam, the cadejo's on our side of the river."

"I know…I just saw it. I'm on your side now."

Something crackled nearby.

"Hold on," he murmured, lowering the phone, and reaching for the machete. The gun was more than likely useless now, if the gunpowder had gotten wet.

The noise stopped.

"Sam," came the tinny voice on the phone. "Where are you?"

He lowered himself down, stalking towards the noise.

"Sam?"

"Sam."

He stopped, confused, and raised the phone to his ear. "Angie?"

"Here," said a louder voice, off the phone, coming from the direction of the breaking branches. He turned. Angela emerged from behind him, her arm out of her sling, Dean trudging alongside her. Blood stained the front of his t-shirt and his face, and he walked with a slight limp.

"What happened?" Sam asked, coming over to his brother.

"We had a run-in with our stinky little friend," Dean said, pausing to lean up against a tree.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure. Peachy."

"Did you swim across the river?" Angela asked.

"Had to. I saw it pass by; I figured it would be safest that way."

"Safest? Do you have any idea what's in that river? It's crawling with water moccasins."

Sam swallowed. Dean looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Water moccasins? Are you kidding me? Did you get the number of that demon wolf?"

She glared at him.

"Which direction did it head?" Dean asked, ignoring her.

"East. Towards the bridge."

"Right." He pulled himself off from the tree, handing the tranquilizer rifle to Sam. "You're the best shot right now."

They headed slowly towards the east, keeping alert, pausing just a little now and then to let Dean catch his breath. The creature had really torn into his shoulder.

Sam turned to Angela, eyeing her shoulder. "Hadn't you better put that back?"

She smiled, grimacing a little as she moved her shoulder. "Can't. I can't do anything with it constricted. It's fine. It wasn't serious."

"Oh, of course not," said Dean. "Except for the part where you almost died."

"Don't be melodramatic," she scoffed.

Dean motioned to her, his face pale, and shook his head. "I'm being melodramatic."

They reached the bridge, circling the little clearing where they'd originally set up. Dean bent down, pausing for a minute.

"You feeling alright?"

"Yeah." He opened his eyes, staring off into the darkness. "Sam…"

"We can do this," Sam said. "We can. Come on. Dad wouldn't want us to give up now."

Dean looked up at him, swallowing. "Oh, he wouldn't, huh?"

"Are you kidding? We've got the advantage. We know what it's afraid of," he motioned to the machete attached to his belt.

Dean snorted. "Of course. Why should I be worried?" He straightened up, flinching a little as he moved his shoulder, and tossed Sam a disbelieving expression. "Easy as pie."

Angela backed up towards them. "Guys…"

The clattering sound, now painfully familiar, echoed through the woods. The odor was back to; filtering through the forest in pungent waves, causing Dean to cough. "God, that's awful."

Sam tightened his grip on the tranquilizer gun, raising it level with his shoulder, holding his breath.

The sound of the creature lingered around them, making the direction nearly impossible to track.

"Where is it?" Dean asked.

Sam glanced to the side, trying to make out one area where the sound was loudest. It came again, rattling through the woods, followed by a fresh wave of scent.

Angela turned, looking worriedly around, her .45 in her good hand, backing up against them.

"WHERE IS IT?" Dean yelled again, whirling around.

Sam was back-to-back with his brother, rifle raised. "I don't know."

The smell of it surrounded them. The woods suddenly grew quiet; not even a breath sounded through the trees.

Dean turned, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he stood back to back with Sam and Angela. The cadejo was coming, he could feel it; his muscles trembled in anticipation.

Sam was steady beside him, his breathing calm, focused. Somehow, he did not seem afraid.

The clattering came from the left; a shadow moved to the right. His eyes darted between the trees, as flashes of red light pierced the darkness.

He moved to the side.

The cadejo emerged in front of him; he fired as it leapt towards them, forcing them apart.

They split in three directions as the creature pounded forward, catching Sam in the chest, knocking him down. The tranquilizer gun fell out of his grasp and skittered across the dirt. Dean gritted his teeth and raced for it.

He rolled down, catching the rifle in his hand, and turned forward, trying to get a good aim on the creature, shoulder screaming in protest. The cadejo turned, jumping towards him, forcing him to roll to the side to avoid another attack. He pulled to his feet, but the beast crouched back on its powerful hind legs and leapt forward, landing near him, slapping him across the back with one tremendous paw. The force of it threw him from his feet, knocking the gun out of his hands.

Shots fired behind him; the creature turned, leaving him, racing towards Angela.

Dean looked up; the rifle was only a few feet in front of him. He scrambled to it.

"DEAN!"

He rolled out of the way just as the cadejo landed where he'd been, baring its incredible fangs at him. He pulled to the side, unable to avoid a backhand from the thing, which hit him in the stomach, sweeping him off the ground and into the air.

His head exploded in pain as he slammed into the thick roots of one of the nearby trees, flashes of white bursting in front of his eyes.

He could hear Sam on his feet again, running towards him. There was the clatter of a rifle being picked up.

The cadejo roared; the sound was like an explosion through the semi-quiet forest. Birds in the nearby treetops screeched in protest, rising into the night sky with a flurry of beating wings.

Sam cried out; Dean opened his eyes, watching in horror as his brother tumbled across the small open space, four lines of scarlet blossoming across the front of his t-shirt and jacket. Sam slowly pulled himself to his feet, grabbing at his chest, staring at the creature that had faced off against him. The tranquilizer gun was behind it, out of reach of either Dean or Angela.

It stalked towards his brother, the sinews of its body flexing beneath the matted black fur. It drew closer to Sam, the stink of it filling the clearing, choking them. Sam turned his head, avoiding the creature's penetrating stare, panting in pain and exhaustion.

Dean pulled to his feet.

Shots rang out once more; Angela stood, pistol raised above her, her eyes narrowed dangerously at the cadejo. The creature turned, the red eyes locking on her, watching her like a cat might a mouse.

It was growing tired of the game.

Well, dammit, so am I.

He stalked behind it, making his way to the rifle. The creature turned back to him, watching him with its blinding gaze, mouth curling into a low snarl. He turned his head to the side, avoiding the eyes.

Sam rose, pulling out his machete once more. The cadejo sensed the immediate danger, and turned from Angela, towards them.

He raised the rifle. The creature crouched down, snarling.

If it's smart, there's only one way it can go.

The beast focused on him, ignoring Sam. He felt a sort of helplessness. Too smart. Too damn smart.

"Mira, vendejo. Aqui." The cadejo snorted as the voice rose from between the trees, turning to the east, where a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. Dean watched in surprise as Robert came forward, a long knife in his hands.

"Roberto," Angela breathed from somewhere nearby.

The young man moved into the clearing, crouched down, his dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

The beast growled, but there was a second of indecision, of hesitation in the creature's movements. Robert was staring it point blank in the face, but for some reason, he wasn't affected by the eyes. The creature turned its head, as though trying to figure out why; distracted, just for a moment.

Dean raised the rifle and fired.

The dart hit the cadejo in the side; it yelped, leaping from its position, and jumped forward, towards the Nahual.

The thin man dodged the attack, whirling around. He turned to face it as it skidded to a halt, turning back towards him. He rolled to the ground, avoiding it once more. Sam backed up to the edge of the clearing, watching, trying to figure out the movements, his knife in hand.

Dean reached into his pocket, loading the rifle with another dart. The cadejo charged at Robert once more, who nimbly avoided the attack, turning to face the much larger beast, which had a hard time keeping its footing against the Nahual's almost superhuman speed.

He raised the rifle, and fired once more.

The dart hit the animal in the neck; it rose up in fury, ignoring Robert and pounding towards him. Dean whirled around, the rifle slipping from his hands, and tried to dodge.

He wasn't as quick as Robert.

The infuriated creature caught him in the back, knocking him forward with unbelievable force. He tried to catch his footing as the ground rushed towards him. There was a distant crack; pain on the side of his head—an unbearable pain.

A burst of light, then darkness.