Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,34
them. He remembered a time, not so long ago, when they had an almost telepathic understanding of each other. Back then they shared an unquestioning trust when it came to hunting together. But he didn’t feel that now.
Sam knew he’d been distracted, too, fighting off images of Lucifer and flashbacks of agony from his time spent in the cage. Sometimes it felt like his head was tearing in two, with one part back in that terrible place, and the other part here, fighting monsters just like he’d always done. With each day he felt those two parts separate more, and constantly had to remind himself that he was out of the cage. That was no longer his existence, no matter how much his hallucinations of Lucifer wanted to convince him otherwise. The scar in his hand where Dean had stabbed him served as a reminder of how real this world was. It still ached and Sam was glad for it. He drove his thumb into the scar any time his mind doubted the reality of this world.
He missed Dean. He missed himself, his old self. Sometimes he thought of his time at Stanford before he resumed the life of a hunter. Life had seemed full of hope then. He had been starting a future with Jess and attending college like he’d always wanted. Then everything had changed that night Dean showed up and told him their dad had gone missing. Sam had rejoined the hunt and his life had never been the same again. Maybe it never had the chance of being normal. He was a Winchester, after all.
“Awfully deep in thought over there,” Bobby said, breaking into his reverie. “You still worrying about Dean?”
“Just thinking about the road not taken.”
Bobby looked thoughtful, almost wistful. “Yeah, I know how that goes.”
Sam knew Bobby had also seen his share of grief, that his chance at a normal life had been taken away, too.
In the distance the coastal mountains came into view, fog gathering around the peaks. They climbed over them and suddenly Sam could see the sparkling waters of San Pablo Bay. They cut over to Highway 37, passing through miles of wetlands. White egrets fished, and dozens of ducks gathered in the late-afternoon sun. The sky reflected in the water, making the wetlands appear like little pools of sky themselves.
“Think Jason is going to hold up out there?” Sam asked.
“He’s taken a licking, but doesn’t seem to let it stop him.”
The rolling hills of Marin County rose into view as 37 joined Highway 101. Bobby took it north and exited in the city of Novato, taking a road out toward the sea. “Almost there,” he told Sam.
Cows milled in fields as they wound their way west. Oaks dotted the hillsides and vultures circled overhead. The sun hung low above the hills as they arrived in the small town of Point Reyes Station.
It didn’t look much different than it must have decades before. Buildings from the late 1800s lined the main street, and a few pedestrians strolled along the street in the dusk.
“Where do we find this hunter?” Sam asked.
Bobby glanced around at the buildings. “She runs a little restaurant off the main drag called The Pelican’s Nest.”
They passed through the central part of town and turned off onto a side street. The Pelican’s Nest stood halfway down the block. A sign sporting a white pelican sitting on a cluster of eggs hung above the door. The building was old, probably from the turn of the last century. Bobby found a parking spot around the side.
“Is she expecting us?” Sam asked, climbing out of the van.
“Yep.”
They were halfway up the stairs when the front door opened and a woman in her fifties stepped out. Her brown hair hung loose and wavy around her pretty face. Intelligent eyes twinkled at the sight of them. She grinned and threw her arms around Bobby. “Bobby Singer,” she said, giving him an affectionate hug.
“Marta,” Bobby said in greeting.
“And this must be Sam Winchester.” She grinned at him.
Sam held out his hand, taking an instant liking to her. “Good to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She gave Bobby another squeeze and Sam was amused to see him get a little bit shy and flustered.
“Come on in!”
They followed her inside the restaurant, and she locked the door behind them. Something smelled amazing, like freshly baked bread and exotic spices. “Getting ready for the dinner rush,” she explained, gesturing toward the kitchen. “We open in half an hour.”