A/N: I've never actually been to the town of Glen Rose, TX. I doubt my description will resemble the real thing at all. I chose it simply for the nifty Dinosaur Park. This is also posted without a beta, so all mistakes are mine.
One Year Earlier
Sherry never considered herself a superstitious person. But she'd lived in Glen Rose long enough, heard more than enough stories, to believe they were mere coincidences. So many accidents at the same intersection had to have a cause. She usually avoided it, driving the back way to work. She was running late again. If she didn't get there on time she'd lose her job. And jobs weren't easy to come by these days.
I would have the one boss in town who cares more about punctuality than how much work gets done once we arrive. Sherry's boss wouldn't care that her daughter decided to play hide and seek with the car keys. No, better to risk the legendary "killer crossing" than her job.
Slowing to stop at the light, she realized she was halfway home. All the fatal crashes she'd heard about were someone not paying attention, not making sure it was clear before pulling out. She still remembered the crash from a year ago. The news for days showed the mangled car that crashed into the side of an 18-wheeler, killing the driver on impact.
Just make sure to take it slow when the light changes.
Without warning, her car lurched forward like she'd been slammed from behind. There was no one behind her. No matter how hard she pushed the brake, she couldn't stop the car moving forward into oncoming traffic. She pulled the emergency brake and turned the off ignition, which did nothing to stop the car's forward momentum. She couldn't even open the door or roll down the window. Screaming frantically for help from anyone, the last thing Sherry saw was her car barreling into a school bus, thankfully empty of children.
One Month Earlier
"Dude, we should check out the dinosaur park while we're here," Dean suggested as they passed a billboard advertising Dinosaur Valley State Park.
"Are you serious?"
Nope. Not buying it, are you Sammy? Dean knew Sam wouldn't agree, but would try anything to cheer the kid up. He'd been more moody than usual since the whole possession thing. Then again, having some demon use you to kill a fellow hunter, use a friend as bait, and try to kill your big brother, the only family you had left, would make anyone a little cranky. Dean was running out of ideas to make Sam realize he didn't hold any of it against him.
"Yeah, who knows? Maybe we'll find the first prehistoric poltergeist." That at least earned Dean a smile and a small laugh.
"We should probably worry about the dangerous one for now. Take care of it before it can hurt anyone else."
"Way to ruin my good mood killjoy. Ok, what do we know so far?"
"The article on the accident made it seem like our kind of deal, so I dug a little deeper. This town has had dozens of car accidents in the last ten years, more than normal for a town of just over two thousand people. And most of them occurred at the same intersection." Dean noticed that his brother seemed more animated now than he had in days. Maybe I'm finally rubbing off. A hunt might be exactly what he needs.
"Why does this seem like our kind of gig? The intersection is probably right by a high school."
"Before the last victim, a woman named Sherry Edwards, died she told the cops that her car was pushed into the intersection. No one saw a car behind her and there was no damage to her rear bumper. But, get this, the emergency brake was pulled and the keys weren't in the ignition. Witnesses saw her trying to get out of the car, both hands off the wheel. The car rammed a school bus at full speed with no help from the driver. Luckily the bus was empty or the wreck could've been much worse."
"You're right. That definitely sounds like our kind of weird."
"The same intersection, called the Killer Crossing by locals, has had over 60 reported accidents, this last one making the tenth with a fatality. The ones where a death occurred happened on the same day at the same time. One a year for the last ten years. The next accident should happen in four days."
"Sounds like an angry spirit to me. We haven't had a salt and burn in a while. Any idea yet who's causing the trouble?"
"A couple, but I want to make sure. What do you want to do first? Get a room or go to the library?" Dean knew that was Sam's way of letting him out of the research portion of this hunt. He would accept without argument. The extended distraction for the younger hunter was what the doctor ordered.
"I'll drop you at the library and get a room there," he said, pointing to the cheap motel they'd just passed. "Then I can unpack and find a place for lunch while you do your geek-boy thing. Don't take forever."
It took Dean less than five minutes to stow their gear in the room and another ten to start going stir crazy. The décor had to be the cheesiest they'd seen in a while. Obviously for the tourists, the wallpaper was an awful shade of yellow covered in several different kinds of dinosaurs. The beds were only a little less distracting with one big, green dinosaur across the brown comforter. It was going to be very hard to sleep in the room with so many eyes staring back. Sam will just love this room. Bet he could even tell me which kind of dinosaur was which.
Since waiting was never one of his strong suits, he decided to do a little recon of the small town. They'd need to know where the cemeteries were as well as places to eat and the right bars to earn a little cash. The less they needed to depend on bogus credit cards, the better.
Glen Rose, Texas was no different from the hundreds of small towns they'd been to in their years of hunting. It has a couple of major streets, including the highway running through the town, where the majority of businesses were situated. An odd mix of corporate chains and mom and pop shops, it was typical middle class America, complete with tourist trap to keep the town alive.
Having found an acceptable diner, bar and the three local cemeteries, Dean realized driving the entire town didn't kill enough time. He'd have to go help at the library after all. Oh, well. Maybe one of the librarians will be hot.
A block from the library, stuck at a light that seemed to take forever, he was grateful for one thing. Though Texas towns had way too many country music stations, Glen Rose being no exception, they all had at least one completely devoted to classic rock. "Highway to Hell", currently blaring from the Impala's speakers, made the wait bearable. That and the group of women across the street admiring him and his baby. Though in retrospect, he should have seen that as a sign of things to come.
Breaking from the group was a small child, a little blond-haired girl of maybe three years. She was walking directly into traffic, none of the women taking notice. Dean threw his car into park and jumped out, trying to get someone's attention. The child, oblivious to everything around her, looked like she was reaching out for something that no one else could see. He knew he'd never make it to her, but he would still try. Narrowly avoiding being hit as well, Dean saw movement and realized someone else did get to the little girl in time. Squealing tires, screams, and the slight crunch of metal on metal told him an accident wasn't completely avoided. The car managed to swerve and miss the child and her rescuer, but it did hit another car.
My baby, he hit my baby!
Dean was fully prepared to ream the guy for damaging the Impala until he saw who rescued the girl and that he lay unmoving on the pavement. The rest of the world ceased to register in his senses.
"Sam!" Oh my god, Sam! Please be ok.
He just reached Sam when he started to sit up. He had a gash on his head that was bleeding, but looked fine otherwise. The kid was crying, but didn't seem to have a scratch on her.
"Hey, Sam. You ok?" Dean took a deep breath, swallowing the panic that threatened to overtake him only moments ago. Helping his brother stand, he checked the gash, noting it wasn't even deep enough to need stitches.
"I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me."
"You sure?" Sam just nodded, then winced. The cut might not be deep, but Dean knew from experience that head wounds always equaled headaches. "How's the girl?"
Now that Dean knew Sam was alright, the noises he'd blocked slammed back into focus, blocking out Sam's response. The driver of the car, sirens in the distance approaching quickly, the traffic stuck behind the accident, and the women screaming frantically momentarily overwhelmed his senses. One woman, a petite blond in designer everything and obviously the girl's mother, separated from the group and snatched the child from Sam's arms.
"She's ok. Just a bit shaken up," Sam informed the woman. Then mumbled what sounded to Dean a lot like "you're welcome."
Ignoring Sam completely, the woman said, "Brittany, you know you aren't supposed to wander away. You scared mommy to death!" This made the girl cry harder.
Dean wanted to shake the stupid woman. No child that young would understand what just happened, much less that she'd done anything wrong. It took all of his self control not to tell her as much. From what he could tell, Sam was just as frustrated.
"Jacob, get over here now!" A boy of eight or nine, just as fair-haired as his mother and sister, meekly rushed to his mother's side, head bowed to avoid her gaze. "You were supposed to be watching your sister. How could you—"
"Don't you do that!" The tone of Dean's voice was murderous, jaw and fists clenched in barely contained anger.
"Excuse me? What business—" her tirade was cut short by another angry tone, but not from Dean.
"Don't you dare blame him for this. He's just a child. You're the parent, not him," Sam responded in a tone identical to Dean's, anger just as close to the surface. Dean wondered if his brother was remembering their childhood. How blame for things always fell to Dean, blame he accepted as part of his responsibility for protecting his baby brother.
"Who do you think you are talking to me like that?"
"I think I'm the person who just saved your daughter's life because you were too busy checking out the hot guy in the muscle car, who also risked his life."
Damn, Sammy. I am rubbing off. Trying to suppress a smirk, he noticed several people in the growing crowd nodding in agreement, including one of the woman's friends.
The arrival of the cops kept her from responding, which probably saved her life. But she still had the nerve to look angry. While the police were directing traffic and getting witness statements, Dean let Sam know what alias they were registered under at the motel and went to check the damage to his car.
Not too bad. Just a headlight and maybe the headlight door.
The driver of the other car, a man in his mid-fifties, approached him hesitantly. "It's not bad, is it? This car is a beauty. I'd hate to think I caused her too much damage." Offering his hand, he said, "Hey. I'm Marcus. Marcus Bowden."
Taking the offered hand, he answered, "Dean Burgess. It looks like it's just a headlight. Which is a small price to pay for you not hitting my little brother."
"Brother, huh? I'm glad he's alright. He seems like a nice kid, quite the hero. We were very lucky this time."
"This time?" Though Dean knew the answer before the question left his lips.
"I usually avoid this intersection. Traffic was backed up at all my alternate routes, so I took a chance. This is what I get for being impatient."
"So this is the Killer Crossing I've heard about? Is it as bad as they say?"