Chapter Five
Sam was going positively nuts. Dean had only left a half-hour ago but not before salting every door and window, hanging every sigil they had and ordering Sam not to set foot outside of the house.
Sam had desperately wanted to go to the Drexler home, not only to see if they could find evidence of the ghost but also to see if they could find any trace of David. And, of course, to watch his brother's back. Dean did so much – everything, in fact – to always protect Sam, keep him safe. It was the prime directive his father had first and foremost instilled in Dean. Sam knew, though, that John didn't have to give the order anymore. Dean just did it automatically.
Now that Sam was older and had a much firmer grasp of just how dangerous the family business was, and as he watched Dean participate on more and more hunts with their dad, Sam was developing a protective streak of his own and wanted more than anything to watch out for his big brother. Make sure nothing bad ever happened to him. The one who was now scoping out a place that potentially housed a vengeful, violent, completely-off-her-dead-rocker, murderous ghost.
And Sam had to wait here. Locked up, not able to help, not knowing what was going on. And he was hating every single minute of it.
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Dean approached the farmhouse at a cautious pace. It was getting on toward late afternoon and he knew the sun would be going down and didn't want to be here after dark. He felt worried enough leaving Sam alone even though he'd protected the house as best he could. The problem was they had no idea just how the victims were being taken. There were no eyewitness accounts. So they could have been lured physically to the house or they could have "poofed" right out of their homes. No one knew. But Dean had to choose the lesser of two evils and he figured the greater one was to bring Sam right to the house and potential ghost in question. At least he hoped it was. Either way, this would be as quick a reconnaissance mission, then immediately back home to his brother.
Dean walked up the steps to the front porch, eyes and ears at the ready for any noise or disturbance. He glanced through the front window and sure enough, the interior looked like an abandoned house, dusty and seemingly completely uninhabited. He tested the window but there was no give. Moving to the door, he tried to knob. Locked solid. He knocked on the wood, felt for any electrical static or possible ectoplasm, but there was none. He then paused and tried to "feel" if anything was out of place (feeling just a little silly doing it, too) but didn't pick up on anything.
Dean proceeded to walk around the entire property and found nothing. He sighed as he tried to think of something useful and productive to do but he had nothing. And he really hated that Sam was alone, so he decided to head back home and talk over everything with his dad when he came home.
Suddenly Dean felt that he was being watched. Strange though, the feeling didn't seem to be coming from the house but rather down toward the end of the long driveway. He didn't see anyone there and just as quick as the feeling was there it was gone again. Taking one last look up at the house, Dean made his way back home. The feeling never returned.
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Charlie Connors breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Winchester boy hadn't seen him spying on him out at the Drexler place. Hugh had asked him to keep an eye on the elder boy after he'd volunteered, confidently telling him he had a knack for stealth. But when he saw the boy suddenly stop his surveyance of the property and look directly his way, he couldn't have more grateful for the large bushes at the end of the driveway blocking his presence. As soon as the teen looked away again, Charlie took off and went back to report to Hugh, firmly deciding not to tell him of nearly being caught but that the kid's visit to the house had been uneventful.
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"It's about friggin time!" Sam pounced on Dean the minute he came through the door. "What'd you find out? Was anything there? Did you find anything connected to David?"
"Easy Sammy," Dean said, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding until he had his little brother safely back in his sights. "No, nothing happened. House was quiet. Looked just as everyone said. Locked up tight."
Sam's shoulders dropped and he let out a frustrated sigh that sounded sad at the same time. "Dean, what are we gonna do?"
Dean wished he had an answer for the kid but he was at a loss. But he put his best game face on and said "We're gonna talk to Dad. He'll know what to do. In the meantime, you hungry?"
"Hungry?" Sam said, exasperated. "How can you think about eating right now?"
"It's dinnertime, Sam. Gotta take care of the basics first and foremost, right? I promise, we'll figure this thing out. Trust me, okay?" Dean looked earnestly at Sam.
"Yeah, okay," Sam relented. He would always trust Dean. And Dean was right, if anyone would know what to do, besides Dean that is, it was his dad. Now if he would just get home…
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As gruesome as the scene in Wildwood, New Jersey was, John did not believe the maulings were the work of the Devil. He had also ruled out black dogs, Wendigos and werewolves. After exhausting every possible lead and speaking with Joshua's contact, John determined it was simply, tragically a bad case of wrong place, wrong time for the hikers and one seriously pissed off bear. He felt bad but was relieved that he could now head back to his boys.
He'd spoken with Dean earlier and after his eldest filled him in on the Drexler legend had tried to curb his anger when he learned his eldest had a) gone to investigate the house on his own and b) left Sam alone to do so. He knew Dean would never intentionally endanger Sam and he was proud of the hunter Dean was becoming, but he still wanted him to practice caution and use common sense. He told Dean to stay with Sam until he returned the next day, then they would look into the legend together. After an affirmed "Yes sir" from Dean, he hung up and decided to get a couple of hours sleep before beginning the long drive back north. After all, he'd be no good to his boys if he ended up in a ditch after falling asleep at the wheel.
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The next day Dean informed Sam that they would not be going to school and instead would wait for their dad to come home. He called the offices at each to let them know the Winchester boys would be absent, then made breakfast for them both. He knew their father was probably on the road by now and would be back that afternoon. Till then, he wasn't going to let Sam out of his sight.
The evening news the previous night offered no new information on the whereabouts of David Saboti and Sam had hit the couch cushions with a frustrated punch. Dean didn't know what to say to alleviate his brother's mood and instead tried to distract him by offering to teach him poker, something Sam had been bugging him to do for months, but Sam turned him down and said he was going to bed early. Worried, Dean let him go and later checked on him, grateful to find him sleeping undisturbed.
As Dean was finishing up dishing out the cereal and toast, he heard Sam coming down the stairs.
"What's it gonna be, Sammy, grape or strawberry jelly?" Dean called over his shoulder. As he turned around, though, he saw Sam grab the EMF meter off the front table and put it in his knapsack, along with a bag of salt and the flask of holy water.
"Whoa, Sam, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean said, knowing that determined look on the boy's face and stilling the anger in his voice.
"What nobody else seems to be," said Sam defiantly. "I'm gonna go figure out what's going on."
"No way, Sam! There's no way in hell you are going anywhere near that house!"
Sam stopped and looked at Dean, resolve face firmly in place. "Then I'll go to the lake! That's where all the bodies turn up. There has to be some trace of the ghost there."
Dean started to protest but Sam broke in "Don't tell me it's not gonna happen, Dean, because I'm going out there with or without you. Saving people, hunting things, that's what we do, right? Always telling me how important the work we do is. That's what you and Dad are always telling me, hoping I'll get it. Well I get it, okay? And now I'm doing something about it. So are you gonna help me or not?"
Rant over, Sam stood firm, staring hard and direct at Dean, not showing any sign of caring whether Dean said yes or know. Clearly he was indeed determined to go, whatever the answer. And big brother wasn't going to stop him.
Dean turned away, threw the butter knife into the sink with a "stupid, stubborn little…" under his breath, took a moment to breathe, gather himself, put the ol' game face back on and turned back to Sam.
"You follow my lead. Do whatever I tell you and Sam, I swear if you so much as…"
"You got it. No back talk. No questions. Following your lead all the way."
Dean sighed and strode past Sam to get his bag. Dad is so gonna kick my ass…
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Dean and Sam made their way down to the lake, Dean glancing in all directions constantly, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious or threatening. The day was warmer than it had been and people were out and about enjoying the nice weather.
At the lake, Dean made one full sweeping glance around before asking Sam for the EMF meter. He turned it on and it beeped slightly but consistently as he swept it along the shore. Sam was looking around as well, hoping to spot anything out of the ordinary, but he really didn't know what to look for. He was just hoping to find something, anything to give him an idea of what action to take to help.
Suddenly Dean felt it again. Someone watching them. This time it was much stronger and he made his way closer to Sam while looking all around the area. He was getting a very bad feeling and felt incredibly exposed. He was about to grab Sam and start heading back to the house when he heard a woman calling out to them.
"No! No, please! Please!"
Dean and Sam turned to see an older woman trotting toward them waiving her arms and calling out to them. It was Alice.
"You know her?" asked Dean.
"No," said Sam.
Dean positioned himself in front of Sam as she got nearer.
"Please! Please!"
She finally reached them and they waited for her to catch her breath.
"Are you alright?" Sam asked, afraid the woman was going to keel over in front of them.
"Please, you have to go. Leave this place, please!"
"Who are you?" Dean asked.
But all she could do was continue her pleas.
"Go home! Go, get your father and leave, please!"
"You know something, don't you? About the missing kids." Dean said forcefully.
To Dean she said "You have to take your brother away from here. He's in terrible danger, please! Take your brother and leave!"
Dean felt Sam stiffen behind him and reached his hand out to touch Sam's sleeve reassuringly.
"In danger from whom?" Dean questioned again even more forcefully.
"Please! I can't…just go! Take him and go now! Please!" She looked back up the shore frantically, fear clearly in her eyes as they settled on one spot. Dean turned to see what she was looking at but saw nothing. As he turned back, she was already backing away.
"Wait! You have to tell me what you know!"
"Go now!" was all she could offer as she turned to run back down the beach. "Now, please!"
"TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!" Dean shouted, torn as whether to chase after her or heed her warning and get them the hell out of there. He opted for the latter.
"Cmon, Sam."
They started heading back toward home, Dean keeping Sam just ahead of him and both looking around on high alert. As they turned onto Falmouth Road, Dean saw a silver SUV down the road a bit approaching them, staying close to the curb as other cars passed it. That's not right, Dean thought to himself and quickened their pace. As they turned onto Short Hills Drive he spotted another car moving along in similar fashion. It was official – ghost or no ghost, someone non-supernatural was tracking them and Dean felt more exposed than ever.
"This way, Sammy!" Dean led Sam onto a back path behind one of the houses and ducked down, pulling out his cell phone.
After two rings his father picked up.
"Dean…"
"Dad, someone's after us."
"What? Where are you?"
"Just off of Short Hills Road behind one of the houses. There's an SUV and at least one other car."
"Is Sammy with you?"
"Yeah, he's right here," Dean said, giving a reassuring nod to Sam, who was trying very hard not to look terrified.
"What the hell, Dean?! I told you to stay home today!"
"Look, yell at me later, alright Dad? Right now we've got a situation!"
"Okay. Can you get home without being out on the open streets?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Okay, get home as fast as you can and keep Sammy close. I'm about two hours out. When you get there, call the police and arm yourselves till they show up, but be sure to put the guns away when they do."
"Okay."
"Be careful son, and call me the minute you're home."
"Okay." Dean hung up the phone, stood up to take a quick glance around, then crouched back down.
Sam looked at him, waiting for word on their next move and trying hard to reign in his abject terror.
"Okay, Sammy. I know you're scared but it's gonna be okay. We're gonna take a little short cut back to the house. I want you to stay close to me and do everything I do." Dean reached into the bag and pulled out his .45. "You with me?"
Swallowing and steadying himself, he said "I'm with you."
"That's my boy. Let's go."
Over the next few minutes Dean had them working their way through back pathways, over fences, around dumpsters and through a veritable obstacle course in the effort to get home unseen. Making it with only a snagged shirt on one fence, Sam was keeping up brilliantly and Dean was impressed with his brother's fortitude.
At last they had the house in sight just across the street. Dean counted to three and both boys took off running. Sam had the house key out just as they reached the front door and unlocked it quickly. Both pushed through the door and Dean slammed it behind him, locking it. Each let out a panted sigh and took a moment to embrace the relief of being safe inside.
"Okay Sammy, go grab the shotgun from the kitchen and I'll call the police."
Sam went toward the kitchen. As Dean pulled out his phone he heard Sam cry out.
"SAM!" Dean charged for the kitchen but was hit from behind by something hard and stumbled to his knees, trying to clear his vision. He looked up just as a man holding Sam came out from the kitchen. Sam was struggling desperately and crying out but his voice was muffled by the handkerchief held over his mouth. As Dean tried to reorient himself, he felt hands grab him from behind and hold him. Helplessly restrained, he watched as Sam's struggles and cries lessened, falling under the effects of what Dean assumed to be chloroform.
"Let him go you sonofabitch!!" Dean cried out, pulling against his captors, his head swimming from the pain from the hit.
His heart practically broke out of his chest as he saw Sam fall limply unconscious in the arms of the man holding him.
"SAM!!" Dean cried out again, just as another hit came from behind, sending him crashing to the floor. Just before losing consciousness himself, he watched, tears in his eyes, as the man carried Sam out of the house and away to God knows what fate. And he was completely helpless to stop them.
Sammy…