PART THREE: Follow the Bouncing Ball
The sharp heat of the day had diminished noticeably, retreating with the sunlight, but it had left behind the humidity and not much relief - even at midnight. Sticky and oppressive, the air wasn't even stirred by the slightest breeze. It lay thick and heavy around them. Sam felt like he was suffocating beneath a shroud of darkness. Being in the car didn't help.
Dean sat beside him in the driver's seat, head tilted back, mouth slightly ajar, eyes wide open and staring at the Impala's roof. Sweat trickled down his forehead. "I'm dying."
Sam grinned. "No you're not."
"Melting." Dean moaned and tipped his chin back down. "Why am I here again? I could be lounging in front of an air conditioner watching pay per view."
"I don't know." Sam peered anxiously out through the Impala's broad windshield. "Ellen said we should check it out tonight." He shook his head. "I'm telling you, Dean, there was something about that girl. We just...connected. It was weird."
"You're weird, she's weird, you should get married and have weirdlings." Dean chuckled at his own joke. Sam punched him in the shoulder. "Ow!"
"I'm serious, and I think she may have had an experience out here or something. She didn't like to talk about it."
"Or she lost someone. Given the number of fatalities on this stretch of roadway odds are a lot of people probably know one or more of the victims. Didn't you say she's a local?"
"Yeah, and she did lose someone. She told me her fiance died out here, but she didn't elaborate and I didn't ask." Shifting his weight in his seat, Sam reached for the video camera sitting on the dashboard. He checked the tape and the batteries for the tenth time. "Why was she was so insistent that we come out here tonight, though?"
"You shoulda asked her that, not me." Turning, Dean reached around into the back seat fumbling for the cooler he'd stashed there. From within he produced two cold bottles of water. "Here."
Sam opened his water and drank. Dean pressed his bottle to his forehead for a minute or two before following suit.
"Maybe she's psychic," Sam suggested softly. "That would explain a lot."
"Oh jeez."
"What?"
"Nothing, I just...Sammy I think you're reading too much into things. You just met the girl."
Angrily, Sam replied quickly. "What, it's okay for you to pick up skanky barflies and have sex with them, but I can't even establish a friendship with a nice girl in a library?"
"Oh, listen to you preach..."
"I'm just sick of the double standard, Dean!"
"That's bullshit, Sam." Dean inhaled deeply, obviously searching for the right way to say what he wanted to say. "Look, I'm all for you hooking up. I think it would be good for you, okay? But I just can't help being suspicious of some random geek-girl you meet in a library basement. She sounds too nice. Remember that chick from Iowa I was seein' for a while?"
Sam wrestled his anger back down. "Yeah, Mary something," he muttered.
"Yeah. She told me everything I ever wanted to hear, tried to be everything she thought I wanted her to be, perfect in every way, and she was nuttier than a fruitcake." There was a pause as Dean took another long pull from his water bottle. "It's too hot to fight," he added abruptly.
In that, they were in agreement.
"I don't think Ellen is another Mary," Sam said after a long silence. "I don't know why, but I felt..."
He stopped as something caught his eye.
A milky white light, the size and shape of a softball, drifted past the windshield. It dipped a little as if acknowledging their presence, before floating across the road and into the forest, propelled by something other than the nonexistent breeze. Sam stared after it.
"Orb." Dean said casually.
Sam snorted. "Thank you Helen Hunt, I can see that."
The two of them scrambled out of the car, relieved to finally have something to do other than sit around sweating. Dean swung the EMF into action, turning slowly around in a circle as more orbs manifested themselves. They floated up from the cornfield, swirling in and out among the stalks before coming up onto the road. Sam focused the camera on Dean who looked as if he were standing amidst dozens of giant soap bubbles.
"Have you ever thought," Sam said quietly, turning to film an orb that was hovering around just beside him. "What would happen if we went public with proof of the existence of ghosts? I mean solid, indisputable, scientific proof."
"Oh, I know what would happen."
"Yeah, what?"
Dean looked up from the EMF meter with a broad grin. "We could start charging people for this."
Shaking his head, Sam continued filming. He paused once to look over his brother's shoulder at the EMF meter. "It's spiking like crazy."
"I've never seen anything like it," Dean admitted. "Never so many in one place. Look, they're comin' from both sides."
Sam switched off the camera and looked toward the woods. Sure enough, there were ghostly white balls of light among the trees and bushes too. As he watched they rolled out toward the road and across, joining the others to dance their eerie dance across the pavement. One drifted close, very close. Sam could not resist the temptation and reached out a hand to touch it.
It slid through his fingers, leaving behind a muscle cramping cold so intense it felt as if he'd stuck his hand in a bucket of ice water. It left behind something else, too - quick flashes of memory, echoes of what the ghostly energy had once been. These orbs of light had once been people, all the people who had died on Dead Man's Curve.
He touched another, this time following the light with his hand, leaving his fingers within it for a bit longer. Memories of a small child, a laughing woman, and a car spinning out of control filled his mind with images. He felt a quick burst of terror as he realized he was going to die...
With a gasp he jerked his hand away from the light.
Sam could barely move his fingers. They tingled with pain. He hastily tucked his hand beneath his arm to warm it, wincing against a sudden headache. Damnit. Why couldn't Dean be the fucking psychic?
"Dean."
"Yeah?" Dean looked up at him and frowned. "Hey, you okay? Your face is freakin' white."
"I'm fine. I just had a thought."
The frown turned into a wry smile. "Another one? Didn't I warn you about that..."
Sam glared, not feeling particularly jovial at the moment. Dean shut up and let him talk.
"What if all of these spirits are responsible for the accidents? Are we going to have to hunt down every one and put the torch to them in order to stop it?"
Fewer and fewer orbs were now entering the highway, and the ones that had been there before were gradually fading away into the darkness. Dean watched them for a long moment before turning back to his brother with a scowl.
"Sam," he growled.
"What?"
"Stop thinking."
