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Chapter title is from song by REO Speedwagon.
60
Ridin' the Storm Out –REO Speedwagon
She should have left them then, outside that warehouse in St. Louis, except for the brittle silence that hung over the boys like thin ice, not looking at each other, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
"Come on." She'd said sharply. "Granby's a full day's drive."
"What's in Granby?" Sam asked mechanically.
"Probable salt and burn." Something simple. Straightforward.
Dean glanced up. The overkill was obvious. Any one of them could have managed a straight up salt and burn on their own, and they had better things to do. His lips pursed tight as he glanced back at the smoking warehouse behind them.
"Sam."
With a flick of his wrist he tossed the Impala's keys to his brother. Sam caught them reflexively, staring at them like he'd just caught a live viper, before grim resolution closed over his hand and his face.
"Highway 70?"
"It's usually fastest."
Sam nodded acknowledgement, opening the Chevy's driver side door before he stopped and looked at the bloody weapon in his other hand. He bit his lips as Dean watched him, and turned back around towards the Impala's trunk. Without looking at his brother, he lifted the trunk lid and the secret panel and deposited the First Blade carelessly into the trunk's weapons cache.
Shielded from his brother's scrutiny by the lid of the trunk, Sam glanced her way. The dead eyes of a hunter, the things he needed to do closing in on him. If not now, someday—someday or die trying.
She held his gaze without speaking.
No, not yet.
Not yet.