Chapter 2

"I'm on the highway to hell. Highway to he-"

"Hey! Dude, what the hell do are you doing? Do you even know who that is!" Dean snapped, reaching over and pressing the play button.

"-ll. I'm on the highway to-"

"Hmm.. let me see…could it be Metallica?" Sam replied sarcastically, switching the music off again and rolling his eyes at Dean.

"Seriously Sammy, if you do that again, you'll be in that home for the elderly that we just passed sooner than you can say AC/DC." Dean replied, gesturing in the direction they had just come from. "Don't you remember that little chat we had months ago? Driver picks the music, shotgun-"

"Shuts his cakehole." Sam finished, sighing and shaking his head in despair. "I know that, but don't you think there's a reason for me to turn the music off? If I just wanted to get rid of the greatest hits of mullet rock, I would've thrown the tapes out months ago." He unfolded a newspaper that he had on his lap and held the front page up so Dean could read it.

"Route 50 claims another victim," Dean read, glancing at Sam with a sceptical look on his face. "So? What's a car accident got to do with us?"

Sam shot him a warning look and began to scan the front page. "This isn't the first car accident in this place. This is the eleventh one in five years. All of these people died on the exact same stretch of road on Route 50 and -"

"And every single of them was probably killed by a woman in white." Dean finished, grinning at his brother. "Not exactly thrilling news, Sammy. Couldn't you come up with something a little more exciting than that?" He asked, reaching for the cassette player again. He pressed the 'play' button, but nothing happened. He frowned and began to press any button he could lay his hands on, but still nothing. "Dude, what've you done?" He asked, looking over at Sam, who had a cassette in his hand and was currently dangling it out of his window. "Oh that's cute Sammy, real cute. Just give it back, and I promise I won't kick your ass."

"Forget it, not until you listen to what I have to say for a change." Sam replied, letting the cassette slip a little and taking great satisfaction from the look of horror on his brother's face.

Sensing that this was one fight he wasn't going to win, Dean shook his head in exasperation. Besides, he wasn't going to risk his beloved AC/DC cassette over a stupid story. "All right, go on."

Sam smiled smugly and carried on reading from the paper. "You'll be surprised to hear that none of them were killed by a woman in white, unless women in white's attacks have suddenly escalated to incorporate decapitation, and single women."

Dean did a double take, which Sam took particular pleasure in. "Decapitation?"

"Yes Dean, decapitation." Sam answered, trying to keep the sarcasm and glee in his voice to a minimum. "All the bodies discovered were found sans head. They were chopped clean off, some of them were even cauterized. Apparently these attacks have even become more professional as the years have gone by."

"What do you mean 'more professional'?" Dean asked, looking slightly confused.

"Well it says here that in the first year or so, these attacks usually ending in the car crashing and the head ending up a long way away from it's owner," Sam replied, skim reading the newspaper. "But in the later ones, the cars are just found idling in the middle of the road. And the heads… well, the heads were still on the bodies. Nobody realised the head had been detached from the body until they tried to move them." He paused, picturing the gruesome sight that awaited the first person on the scene.

"Sweet." Dean muttered, grinning. "But what makes you think this is some sort of supernatural being? It could just be some axe-wielding maniac getting kicks out of joyriding and chopping people's heads off." He suggested, although already half knowing that this wouldn't be the case.

Sam looked out of the window for a minute, then turned to face his brother. "I suppose there's always a chance it could be just a normal person, but you and I know that's probably not the case. Besides, it's not like we've got anything else to do right now." He looked almost pleadingly at Dean, which for some reason reminded Dean of the helpless kid his brother used to be.

"Alright, alright." Dean replied, giving in. "But that cassette, goes back in there. Right now." He indicated from the cassette in Sam's hand to the cassette player. "Or I really will kick your ass."

Obligingly, although with reluctance, Sam inserted the cassette back into the player. Damn, he thought, that was probably the best opportunity I had to get rid of some of his outdated middle-aged music. He scowled at himself, glancing over at Dean who was grinning wickedly at him.

"That was an opportune moment right there, Sammy, and you missed it. It's safe to say that your ass is never going near my music again." To illustrate this, he grabbed a few of the odd cassettes lying around near Sam's feet, shoved them into his jacket pocket and flashed Sam another wicked grin. "So, where are we going then?"

Sighing, Sam took one last glance at the newspaper. "Eureka."

"As in water is flowing out my bathtub, Eureka?"

"No, Eureka as in Eureka, Nevada." Sam replied, folding the newspaper up and throwing it in the back seat.

"Nevada! But that's about five hundred miles in that direction!" Dean exclaimed, pointing to their right.

"Well we'd better get going then, hadn't we? " Sam quipped, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

"I swear Sammy, if you weren't my little brother, your ass would have been out on the asphalt about a hundred miles back." Dean muttered, putting his foot down and speeding off down the highway.