Chapter Six

Cold.

So biting that it worked its way through every part of her body, chilling her with a deep aching pain.

Blinking, forcing herself to focus on something other the the freezing cold that threatened to overwhelm her, she saw white, pure and clean and it took a few seconds for her to realize that she was staring down at snow. Slowly she looked up.

The snow was all around, endless and consuming. The trees that surrounded her were covered with it, their branches bending down towards the ground with the weight. Far in the distance she could make out the hazy shape of mountains.

Deep within the recesses of her mind was a flicker of recognition. This place was familiar, though she could not say why. Along with the recognition came another feeling. A tingle of fear that told her that there was something very wrong with this place. Yet despite this she felt compelled to take a step forward, her body somehow knowing exactly where to head. With each step the fear increased but something deep within her pulled her further and further onward.

Her body grew heavy with tiredness yet still she continued walking, fighting against the pain that drove through her body.

Then she saw it. A spot of red, startlingly and unnatural against the whiteness of the ground that it laid upon. The fear that had been nagging at her leapt up several degrees and she became aware of nothing but the silence and the sensation of her heart beating in her chest.

A few more steps and another splash of red upon the ground and then a sound.

She whipped her head around, her eyes wide as she scanned the way she had just come. Fear now had her its grip, tightening around her so that every sense was heightened.

That sound again.

A little louder this time.

Like something… snapping.

Frightening though it was she clung to the thought that it just a branch breaking with the weight of snow upon it. Not wanting to admit that she knew that it was something much, much worse.

Something that was just beyond her memory, lurking in the depths of her shattered mind.

She took a stumbling step backwards, her breath coming in cold hurried gasps, the heat of it turning instantly into mist as it touched the freezing cold air.

Just as she was about to turn and run she heard a voice.

It was faint. Sounding almost like a whisper of wind and yet she knew that it was real, knew that it had said a name.

Her name.

She ran, going in the direction she thought the voice had come from. The fear still held her, kept whispering to her to turn back, fighting against the other part of herself that told her she had to find the voice, had to find the person it belonged to.

All at once she realized that the spots of red were no more and she stopped to stare at the ground that was now streaked with blood. The sound of her heart roared in her ears, deafening out the silence. The freezing cold that had chilled her body was suddenly gone replaced by a terrifying numbness.

Too late she knew that the fear had been right.

Unable to do anything she looked upwards, her gaze traveling over the blood soaked snow to the wooden pole that was embedded into the ground, to the body that was tied to it, blood flowing down its broken and battered form. Upwards to the face of a man she knew…

"No!"

The word broke free of her mouth with a cry and Jane found herself sitting upright, surrounded by murky grayness, gasping for breath. Breathing hard and fast the terror inside her held on, refusing to let go.

SN*SN*SN

Asleep with his legs stretched out, feet propped up on the end of bed Dean heard the sudden fearful gasps as the bed jolted under his feet and was instantly awake.

The black night of earlier had faded and the motel room was now bathed in gray as the rays of morning light made their way through the gap in the curtains. Sam's sleeping form lay stretched out on one bed while on the other bed where Dean had been resting his feet sat Jane, her eyes wide in terror as she took hurried breaths, trying desperately to get air into her lungs.

Realizing that she had had a nightmare, Dean quickly tossed his jacket aside and went to her. "Jane?"

Jane remained where she was, her breath coming out in a rush, her wide opened eyes fixed on some far away point.

Seeing that she was still in the grip of panic Dean reached out to touch her on the shoulder. The moment his fingers made contact Jane turned on him, pushing him hard, using the full force of her body as she pinned one of his arms against the wall with one hand while her other pressed down hard across his throat.

Suddenly the room was illuminated with light as Sam flicked the light on, calling her name. "Jane!"

Finding himself staring into wild and terrified eyes Dean tried to bring her out of the panic, his voice coming out hoarse as it struggled against the pressure that was being applied to his throat. "Jane, its me, Dean. You really need to let go now."

Blinking a few times, the terror fading from her face Jane loosened her grip on Dean's wrist, while the arm that had been pressed hard against his wind pipe eased its pressure.

At her confusion Dean grabbed each of her hands in his, talking to her as he did so. "Jane, it's okay. It's just a bad dream, you're safe now." His voice was stronger now that the pressure was gone and he held eye contact, watching as the panic eased off, her breathing returning to normal, "You alright?"

Jane nodded back in reply, her eyes landing on the hands that griped her own.

At her uncomfortable look Dean released her hands while Sam pulled her back, his strong hands guiding her to the bed.

"That's it. Everything's okay. I've got you." Sam sat down next to her. "You wanna tell us what that was about?"

"There was… something… something in the…" Jane blinked a few times, coming out of the daze, her confusion evident, "I… I'm sorry… I... What happened?"

"You had a nightmare."

Concern flicked across Jane's face. "Did I… did I hurt anyone?"

"No. We're okay." Sam looked over at Dean who was now half squatting against the wall, his hands resting on his thighs as he caught his breath. "Dean?"

"I'm good."

Standing upright Dean headed over to the fridge. Taking several gulps of water from a bottle as Sam joined him, the two of them talking quietly.

"What the hell was that?" said Dean.

"A pretty bad nightmare by the looks of it."

"The screaming part kind of got that point across," said Dean, "That and the fact that she had her hand wrapped around my throat."

Sam looked at his brother with faint disbelief trying his best to understand what it was about this woman that seemed to put Dean on edge. "She's scared Dean. Terrified out of her mind."

"Out of her mind is right." Dean paused for a second taking in the look on Sam's face. "What?"

"You seem kind of… rattled," said Sam, finally settling on the word that seemed best to describe what he was sensing from his brother.

"Rattled?"

"Yeah. Ever since we took this case. Especially since we found Jane. It's like she makes you nervous or something."

"Nervous? Of her?" Dean glanced over to Jane, feeling Sam's eyes follow in the same direction. She had moved from the bed and was now sitting on the floor, her back pushed up hard against the wall in the corner of the room. "She's nuts. And so are you."

As Dean walked away Sam knew that he would get nothing from him for the time being. Getting anything out of Dean was like drawing blood; you had to be patient and firm and just a little bit gentle so as not to cause any pain. Yet there were times Sam wished his brother would just talk to him without him having to push and prod. For now though the matter was closed.

"Well whatever your problem is you're going have to deal with it on you own cause I'm heading over to the Sheriff's," said Sam taking some clean clothes out of his bag and heading towards the bathroom for a shower.

"No way. You are not leaving me here… with her."

"Someone's gotta stay with Jane and after all you're not nervous about being here with her, are you?"

At the faintly smug look on Sam's face Dean knew he was cornered. If he didn't stay he would be admitting that he was rattled as Sam had said and that wasn't something he was prepared to do. "Fine. I'll stay, but you better bring me back some pie."

SN*SN*SN

"Sheriff," greeted Sam as he walked into the Sheriff's office.

"Marshall." Barrett finished pouring a cup of strong black coffee and torn off a fax, heading towards his office all in one seamless motion.

Knowing instinctively that Barrett expected him to follow Sam did so, his long legs easily catching up with him as the two of them fell into conversation.

"So no joy at The Shack last night I hear."

"The Shack?"

"It's what the locals call the bar you went to last night," said Barrett as they entered the office.

"Sounds like you already know it was a bust." Sam glanced to his right at the sound of door behind him closing. The Deputy from yesterday had followed them in and was now leaning against the wall.

Barrett tossed the fax he was holding into a tray. "Small town. People talk. You should know that."

"Yeah, I do." Sam continued as both he and Barrett look a seat. "So any more leads on who or what killed Amy?"

Barrett stretched out his legs, relaxed and calm as he drank his coffee. "There is no what only a who."

"The coroner seemed to think a wild animal killed her."

"Yeah well, my gut tells me otherwise and I'll take my instinct over a coroner's report any day."

"We all know who killed Amy."

Sam had almost forgotten the Deputy was there until he spoke. Long gone was the pale sickly hue that had been on his face the day before and Sam quickly changed his initial assessment of the man; this was not a man who was as naïve and gullible as he had first appeared. With color back in his face and the shock of the brutal murder wearing off he seemed calm and steady, his voice carrying conviction and an edge of steel in it.

Sam turned his attention back to Barrett, pushing thoughts about the Deputy to one side. "You think that this other girl, Jane Smith, did this?"

"I'm not saying she did it but I'm also not saying that she didn't. Until I find proof that she didn't kill Amy or wasn't involved in anyway, she's a suspect. And right now she's the only one we've got."

"She killed Amy." The edge of steel in the Deputy's voice was stronger and a little deadlier. "I know she killed Amy and she's gonna pay for what she did…"

"Dave. Why don't you go and check that everything from the crime scene been collected and tagged," interrupted Barrett, cutting the Deputy off with a look that said far more.

The Deputy held Barrett's gaze for a moment then left, his face rigid with suppressed anger as he shut the door behind him with a loud bang.

Barrett watched him through the blinds as he walked away. "You'll have to excuse Dave. He had a soft spot for Amy, a bit like most of the town."

"What was she like?" asked Sam, curious as to this woman was who seemed to inspire such loyalty and deep feeling.

"Amy?"

Barrett paused, leaning back in his chair, obviously thinking through the question Sam had posed. "Bright. Not school bright but people bright. She had a knack of making friends, connecting to people , getting them to open up even when they didn't really want to. Warm, friendly…"

"How friendly?"

"If you asking if she slept around then the answers no. Amy might of flirted a little but that's all she did," said Barrett, getting out of his chair and picking up a brown manila folder from off the top of the filing cabinet.

Sam sensed the Sheriff's change of mood but wasn't going to let that stop him from asking more questions. "So, no disgruntled ex boyfriends? No one who was the jealous type?

"No."

The Sheriff tossed Sam the manila folder. "That's Amy. Pretty, popular, not a mean bone in her body. Everyone liked her, so for someone to do that to her, well there's a lot of upset and angry people in this town and they all want to see her killer get caught."

As the Sheriff talked Sam looked at the first bit of documentation on display. It was a newspaper clipping showing Amy in a bathing suit, a sash across her shoulder as she sat on a bale of hay with a small tiara on her head, beaming a joyous smile. Underneath was a series of crime scene photos, several of them showing Amy, the carnage of the murder appearing even more startlingly in the vivid color images.

Looking between the before and after images Sam spoke, "You really think that Jane could have done this?"

Barrett didn't reply straight away, clearly debating how much he was willing to reveal. Decision seemingly made he moved towards the door. "Come with me."

Leaving his office Barrett refilled his coffee and prepared a second cup. "It's not the best coffee there is but it's hot and strong and sweet if you like it that way," he said putting three large spoonfuls of sugar into each of the cups and handing one to Sam.

"Umm… thanks," replied Sam clasping the mug in his hand and taking a tentative sip. Unused to sugar in his coffee, the taste hint his senses immediately, though he managed to quell his distaste at the sugary sweetness.

Following him out of the main doors the two men fell into an easy rhythm as they walked, the Sheriff seemingly oblivious to the crisp cold air.

"I've done this job for more than twenty years and the one thing I've learned is that anything is possible. It's possible that Jane, a girl who once gave a policeman a broken nose and spent two years in a psych ward, went to work one night and brutally killed the one friend she had in this whole town."

"But you don't think so?" Sam's instinct told him that Barrett had more to say on the matter.

"I'll tell you what I think. I think that something terrible happened to Jane or whatever her name really is. The same something terrible that sliced her face open and took half her sense and most of her memory with it. You know what someone does when something like that happens to them? They run. They run so fast they don't look back, they don't even look forward. The only thing that's driving them is fear and instinct, the instinct to survive. That's what Jane's been doing, surviving. Only thing is whoever made her that afraid is now here. In this town."

Sam was impressed with what the man had come up with so far. Everything he said made sense. Still there was one unanswered question. "Why kill Amy?"

"Survival? Convenience? A message maybe? Who knows what's going on in this killer's mind. But I don't think she was the target. No I think he, and I'm pretty sure he's a he, wants Jane. Most likely to finish what he started. She's pissed him off and he's not going to stop until she's dead." Barrett paused again, drinking his coffee, "Of course, right now she could be half way out of the state. Then again she could be laying low somewhere, in an empty house… a motel room… She might even have someone helping her," he said, giving Sam steady look . "How am I doing so far?"

Sam's expression was just as neutral. "Not bad." He paused for a second. "What would you suggest we do now?"

"There's still a few people to question. There's that doctor that Jane was seeing…"

"You haven't talked to him yet?"

"No. Are you offering?"