Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,32
and got out, lifting a hand in greeting. Hefting a pack out of the passenger side, he slung it on his back.
He strode over to them. “So, what kind of fight are we looking at?”
“Big,” Dean said.
“Mean,” Sam added. “Seriously bad news.”
“So how do we fight it?”
“Bobby’s figuring that out now,” Dean told him.
Jason looked around the forest. “We can’t just wait around. People are hiking into these woods all the time. I made two people turn back on the road just now. Told them some crazy story about a pack of rabid dogs. I think they were more scared of me than my story.”
“One of us has to go to the coast with Bobby to get what we need for a weapon.”
“It’ll work?”
“We’re not sure yet. But it’s the best lead we’ve got.”
Jason sized up Dean. “You up for staying out here with me, fending that thing off?”
Dean felt a slight pang of something within him. It felt good to be needed. “Sounds good. Sam, you go with Bobby. We’ll stay here and patrol, try to discourage people from spending the night out here until you two get back.”
Sam shifted his weight. “You sure, Dean?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“All right. Sounds like a plan.”
Some tiny part of himself that Dean was ashamed to admit was there felt a little hurt at Sam’s nonchalant answer. So Dean would stay out here, fighting this thing, while Sam headed off to the bay with Bobby. He could remember a time when Sam wouldn’t have left his side. Now it seemed like Dean was merely an afterthought, and sometimes not even that.
“Okay,” Dean said. “That’s the plan.”
A few minutes later, Bobby’s van pulled up in the trailhead lot, its tires crunching on the gravel. He stepped out. “Jason,” he said in greeting.
“Good to see you again, Bobby,” the other hunter answered.
Bobby eyed Dean. “You boys going to be okay out here on your own?”
Dean nodded. “Someone’s got to keep people from entering this thing’s territory.”
Sam put his gear into the backseat of Bobby’s van and rejoined them. “Be safe, Dean.”
Bobby looked at his watch. “And check in every six hours. If we don’t hear from you, we’re coming back here pronto.”
Sam and Bobby climbed into the van and Dean watched them drive off. Now only their car and Jason’s beat up pickup waited at the trailhead parking lot. At least that meant there weren’t other hikers out there right now, at least none from this access point. Now all Dean had to do was keep people safe until Bobby and Sam returned.
He and Jason walked back into the forest, alert to every sound and any hint of movement, while Dean gave Jason the rundown on what they were hunting this time. They passed through a dense copse of trees and emerged from the other side, moving toward a trail on the map. Dean figured most hikers would move along that path. They walked for a couple of hours, not running into anyone or seeing any hint of the aswang.
A sudden rain of pebbles from a nearby ridge snapped his attention in that direction. A gaunt figure stood on top of the rocks there, some three hundred feet away. It stared down at them, unmoving. “What the hell?” Jason asked.
Dean pulled out his binoculars, but before he could train them on the person, he had vanished.
“Did you see him?” Dean asked.
Jason nodded. “Skinny son of a bitch.”
Dean pulled out his handgun and ran toward the bottom of the ridge. A steep but do-able slope of granite rose up to the top. Dean ran up the rock, aiming his gun in front of him as he drew near the crest. After a few feet, he’d reach the tree where the man had stood. Dean ducked low, hurrying toward it. He couldn’t see over the other side of the rock from there. He reached the top and pointed his gun down, scanning the other side of the ridge. A lot of open country stretched out before him. All he could see were more mountains, valleys, brush, and the ski resorts in the distance. Whoever had been standing there had lit out fast. Maybe too fast to be human.
He moved along the top of the ridge, checking the area. No one. When he looked down, Jason stood at the base of the slope with his rifle out. He was using the scope to scan the hill.
“Anything?” Dean called down.
“Nope.”
Dean descended, keeping his .45 out. They joined up