"Tell me about the dream, Sam," Wiley said.
Sam darted a sideways glance at Dean, who was looking grim. "It was the same bullshit it always is. Bits and pieces. Never enough information, never soon enough to stop anything." Sam sounded bitter.
"What did you see?"
"The kid running through the woods, cut up and screaming." Sam's gaze dropped to the floor. "I couldn't see what was chasing her."
"What else?" Wiley prodded.
It took Sam a minute to respond. "I saw it when her parents and the cops found her, dead, covered in leaves and blood," he said finally.