Another short chapter, but action-packed nonetheless!

Shawn glanced at the paper, his eyes settling briefly on the web address in the top corner before flying over the rest of the page. "Got it," he said, "let's go."

The group headed out of the office and back to the Impala, where Dean found the gas cap unscrewed. "Uh oh," he muttered, bending down and inspecting the damage. Fine white powder littered the ground around the car.

"Uh oh, what?" Gus asked.

"Uh oh," Shawn sighed, taking a pinch of the powder off of the ground and tasting it, only to find that it was sugar, "we're next."

Dean stood up and headed toward the Echo, which had been parked beside his baby. "Gus," he said, "give me your keys."

"What? No way, man, I don't trust you."

"Do you want to help the cops get this freak off the streets or not?"

"Why can't we just call them?" Gus asked, "there's a phone in the office."

"Because it's so much more convincing when Shawn writhes around on the floor in front of them. Now give me the damn keys."

Reluctantly, Gus handed over the keys to the Echo. Dean took them and headed to the driver's side. "Well, you guys coming?"

"I'm sorry," Shawn said, "but didn't your brother tell us just a couple of days ago that if we get into that car with you at night we'd all die?"

Dean sighed and looked up at the quickly darkening sky. "We can wait until tomorrow if you want, but if the freak doesn't kill us it'll get someone else. Can you guys really live with that?"

"Are you trying to guilt us into walking into a semi sandwich?"

"Technically, we'd be driving, Shawn."

"We don't have a choice, do we?" Gus asked.

"No," Sammy sighed, "we don't. He's too stubborn. Get in the car."

The small blue Echo sped down the streets of Santa Barbara, the headlights of the semi shining brightly behind it as the truck gained. Dean shoved his foot to the floor, looking behind him, desperate for a way out.

In the cab of the truck, an eerily pale face smiled maniacally. It looked almost like a clown, red nose and all. There was no doubt about it, Benjamin James had found them, and was ready to exact his revenge.

Dean pushed the Echo, willing it to go faster as Shawn and Gus watched the truck behind them slow. "I think it's giving up," Gus said happily. Dean didn't believe him, and quickly pulled off onto a gravel road.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, cocking his head as the car finally began to slow, throwing gravel everywhere, "the station's the other way!"

"Yeah," Dean said, "but in your vision we kept going straight and got smashed. I don't know about you, but I'm really not in the mood to be hit by another large truck. We'll just take this back road and come out a couple of miles behind the station. We'll go from there."

Sam nodded and settled back in his seat just as the headlights appeared behind them again. "It followed us," Gus whispered, "it followed us."

Dean stepped on the gas again, glancing into the rearview mirror to see the lights gaining steadily. "Come on," he whispered, quietly urging the car to move faster, "come on."

"Uh, is it just me," Shawn began, leaning forward slightly, "or is that curve coming up just a little too fast?"

"Time to kick it into four-wheel," Dean said.

"This car doesn't have four-wheel drive!" Gus shouted as the bend approached.

"Plan B, then," Dean smirked, cranking the wheel suddenly to the right, then to the left. The Echo skidded around the corner, going up on two wheels, before landing safely back on the road. The car began to pick up speed again.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Shawn asked.

"You're the psychic. You tell me."

Behind them, the group heard a loud crash as the semi trailer tried unsuccessfully to speed around the corner and wound up on its side. The little Echo slowed a bit, heading to the station, where the case would finally be solved.