CHAPTER THREE
"You think they'll just let us in to see her?" Sam whispers.
"Dude, we found her," Dean whispers back.
"She's not a stray dog," Sam hisses.
"Give me a minute," Dean replies simply. He gets up and walks over to the officer standing guard outside the girl's room. Sam watches from his chair across the hall. Dean flashes his trademark grin and gestures toward Sam a couple times and than flashes a couple laminated cards, probably made at some generic copy store in some generic town.
Exactly a minute later, he waves Sam over and wiggles his eyebrows.
"What did you tell him?" Sam asks Dean.
"I am the master and one day I will share my secrets with you, young grasshopper, but today is not that day."
You're such an ass, Sam thinks as he walks into the hospital room.
She looks so small. They had cleaned the blood and dirt off of her and bandaged the cuts and scrapes. Her dark, olive skin stands out from the stark white sheets. Her eyes are closed and she looks like she's at peace, a harsh contrast from a few hours ago.
"Maybe we should come back later," Sam whispers to Dean, pulling him so their backs face her.
"So, you must be my knights in shining armor."
Dean and Sam whip around. Her eyes are still closed, but a slight grin is creeping onto her face.
Dean clears his throat and answers her in his most suave voice, "Why, yes, I believe we are."
Sam just rolls his eyes. Always has to be the charmer, can't even hang it up for two minutes. "I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean. We were just driving by when you bolted from the trees. Gave us real scare. We were just wondering if you would tell us what happened."
She opens her eyes and looks up at Sam, "I already told the cops."
"Yeah, I'm sure you did. But, how about you tell us what really happened. I have a feeling you left out the seven-foot tall beast with decomposing flesh in your account to the cops. Am I right?" Dean countered.
She pauses a beat, and then her smirk returns. "A seven-foot tall beast with decomposing flesh? Really? I'd say he was more like seven and a half feet tall. But what do I know?" She folds her arms on her stomach. "Why don't you take a seat, stay awhile? Sam, is it? And Dean?"
They nod as they sit down in the chairs by the bed.
"I was driving along the road . . . What day is it?"
"The third," Sam answers.
"It's almost been a week then. I was driving down the road when I noticed this huge thing blocking my path. I swerved and ran off into the ditch. I must have hit my head because the next thing I know I'm lying in some old ramshackle barn in the middle of nowhere."
"Did it try to do anything to you?" Dean asks, leaning toward her.
"Not unless I tried to get out. Which I did a couple of times. There were bones all over the floor. I'm pretty sure they were human," she answers. " So, what are you two?"
"Reporters," they answer in unison.