CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sam was driving along the edge of the road at a snail's pace, his attention fixed on spotting any sign of an old entry point into the forest. He was so focused on his search that, when his phone rang, Sam shot back in his seat with a startled yelp. He glanced at the caller ID before answering, talking as he continued to crawl along in the edge of the road.
"Bobby."
"What? You think you can send me a text like that an' I'm not goin' to call you? What the hell's happening an' why're you idjits in Tennessee?."
Sam sighed.
"Hang on, let me pull up. Ok. Long story short. Dean was having dreams, well…kinda dreams. Turned out someone, something, was planting them in his head. Then he started getting messages even when he was awake, all designed to get us…him…to go find the source. When we set out we'd no idea where we'd end up. We just followed the directions comin' over Dean's new intercranial SatNav. That's why I kept sending co-ordinates to you, so you would know where we ended up if…..you know…"
"You mean if somethin' happened? Mebbe somethin' say, like Dean bein' taken? How'd that happen?"
"Uh…..spell maybe? We were both in the car, I fell asleep, woke up to no Dean and no tracks to give any clues. I've had to drive aways to get a phone signal. I'm pretty sure I've got Dean's location and thought I'd better text you before I lose the signal again. I'm heading back towards where we'd parked up, there's gotta be an old entry point into this damn forest, I just didn't spot it first time around. I was kinda in a hurry."
"Well, if it helps, I'm pretty sure I know what you're up against."
"What? How?"
"My top secret and highly honed psychic abilities obviously, moron!"
"Bobby….!"

"No big deal really. Every time you sent co-ordinates, I went on-line looking for anythin' weird or supernatural sounding happenin' in that area. Hit the jackpot around where you are now."
"So? What did you find?"
"Grave robbers. Past six months or so there's been a spate of coffins being dug up an' the contents goin' missin'. Only thing linking 'em as far as I can see is they were all male, all around 40 to 45 when they quit breathin'. Freshest one died around 18 months ago."
"Ok….so, are we talking zombies then?"
"Don't think so. I think you're looking at something much more autonomous, more self aware. Way less find, eat, find, eat, shuffle along with my arms stuck out front."
"Shuffle along? I think you're getting yourself confused with the Evil Dead films old man. Not zombies then. What do you think we're facing?"
"You ever heard of Lytch?"
"Come again?"
"You heard me...Lytch."

Sam thought briefly, taking himself back to his time at Stanford.
"Yeah, at collage. One of my group was a mad keen D&D player."
"D&D?"
"Dungeons 'n Dragons. Bobby, hate to be the one to break this to you but, Lytch aren't real. They're just part of some fantasy role play game."
"Well, whoever invented that game knew something you didn't 'cos I'm tellin' you, boy, Lytch do exist and just to add to the fun, where's there's Lytch I can guarantee you, there's a Necromancer."
"Necro…? Shit!"
"Yup, a great big pile of the stuff…..and Dean had to go stand smack bang in the middle of it."
"What makes you think Lytch Bobby?"
"Videocam recording. Local police set a couple up in one of the graveyards after two bodies went missin' hoping to film the perps in action an' get an ID."
"I assume they were successful then?"
"Yeah. Managed to ID one of the diggers as well. Name of Ray Lang. Trouble is', he was ID'd by his widow. Ray was one of the missing bodies. When I watched the tape the guy moved smoothly, he didn't act like he was on auto-pilot. Spent some time looking round, as if he was searching for the right kind of corpse to dig up, and he was bein' careful, like he understood there was a risk of bein' seen."
"Bobby. This thing...it specifically targeted Dean."
"Yeah, well, it'll not be for any good reason. Necromancer's are soul stealers. They take other people's life force, or souls, for themselves. Helps keep them damn near immortal. I guess that brother of yours must be walking around with one tasty soul to attract the undivided attention of a Necromancer."
"Given that his soul's been to Hell and back, it would make sense it stands out I suppose….."
"Fuck! Of course! Sonovabitch!"
"Bobby? What?"

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