Death in the Mountains

The rain was beginning to fall steadily when Vera and Dean arrived at the KOA. Even though it was only mid-afternoon it was getting dark because of the storm clouds. They dashed into the office to find Betsy pacing behind the front desk.

“Dean! Thank God you’re here. I was just about to call you. I haven’t seen Sam for hours and now the storm is getting bad.” Betsy Rice’s wrinkled face looked like it had collapsed in on itself from worry.

Dean swallowed. “Yeah, I haven’t been able to reach him on his cell, so we decided to come up and check on him.” Betsy nodded and pointed to the area where Sam had been last working on the campground map. Dean and Vera quickly left the office running for the truck.

As they got back into the truck Dean was relieved to see that Griffin had stayed in the cab. He nipped Dean’s arm in support as they drove away.

“I’m going to kill him,” Dean fumed, hitting the steering wheel as they drove.

“Calm down,” Vera breathed, “we’ll find him, and if we don’t find him we can scry him out.” Dean nodded stiffly, glad that they had another way to find him. The rain began to come down harder, making it difficult to see.

Dean stopped the truck near Sam’s last known location. After they searched for a few minutes, Vera yelled to Dean over the sound of the downpour. “I’ve found something!”

Dean ran through the rain, his clothing soaked and his hair plastered to his skull. Vera was on the porch of one of the cabins. She had found Sam’s tools and a wheelbarrow. The tools were all neatly arranged. Dean felt hope rising in his chest. “Okay, we know that he wasn’t snatched from here. Let’s look around and see what we can find.” He looked at Griffin. “Don’t get lost; I don’t need to be trying to find you too.” Griffin just meowed pitifully, looking like a dirty, wet mop.

The three of them fanned out around the cabin, looking through the woods. After about ten minutes, Griffin came charging up to Dean and all but ran into his leg. The young cat squalled loudly, trying to get Dean’s attention.

Dean looked down at his familiar, Griffin had alerted him to important things before, could he have found Sam? Dean yelled for Vera, and he could see her running toward him, stumbling and tripping through the underbrush. Damn it, she might be in good shape physically despite being tired, but she wasn’t experienced or trained to do this type of hunting. To make matters worse, visibility was lessening with each passing moment. After Vera caught up to him they quickly followed the muddy cat.

A few feet away, Griffin stopped and started rooting through some leaves. Dean’s heart sank in disappointment, thinking Griffin was after a mouse. He started to leave when Griffin attacked his leg, yowling at him and almost drawing blood through his jeans. Looking down Dean saw something silvery on the ground; he snatched it up and saw that it was Sammy’s cell.

“Fuck!” Dean swore as he opened the phone. There was an unsent text message on it.

“Went hunting, woman screaming, send help.”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Vera gripped his arm. His first instinct was to rush off into the woods to save his baby brother.

“Think Dean,” he told himself, “There are hundreds of acres of dense woods and a storm.” His father had taught him too well about being prepared. He closed his eyes. As much as he disliked reading, there were a lot of simple truths in that book “Art of War.” He couldn’t remember the text word for word but it said something about the enemy being well rested while waiting on the battleground and the smart warrior is not goaded into rushing to find them.

This was a trap and he was unprepared. He was out here with an inexperienced Guardian and a cat. The only weapons they had between them was his Glock and a shotgun loaded with bird shot in the truck. Neither weapon would do much more than just piss off these demons. Vera was in shorts and her legs were already torn up, rain soaked rivulets of blood trickling down her legs.

They had no information on what type of demons they were facing. They were going on Vera’s educated guesses. The demons were trying to goad them into rushing to the battleground to save Sam. They needed real weapons, supplies and back up. He would call LeDonne and go get Jay. The best chance of saving his little brother was to get organized first. These demons, whatever they were, took hours, even days to kill their prey. Dean just hoped they had enough time.

He looked up at Vera’s grief stricken face, hoping that she wouldn’t break. She was untried, untested, and tonight could overwhelm her, but he didn’t dare leave her at home. Vera was the only one with the psychic and magical abilities to banish or destroy the creatures that had Sam. Jay was good, but he was young and didn’t have the experience or knowledge that Vera did.

The bare comfort that Dean had was that she had given him permission to sacrifice her for his brother.

~*~

Nora Bonesteel sat with her hands covering her face in her living room, unable to watch the physical storm any longer. The young ones were out in this wild weather, and another uncontrolled storm of misunderstanding was brewing, every bit as deadly as the one outside her windows. She lifted her head to watch the rain pour into the valley below her mountain home.

She was old, so old. She knew age was advancing on her, but tonight she felt it. These new Hunters in the valley could very well destroy so much in their ignorance and misguided zeal. All Nora could do tonight was pray, and hope that the Good Lord heard her. Tonight’s outcome had not been decided yet.

~*~

Fawn Harkryder hid between two vans in the parking lot of the Mockingbird Inn. She had seen her dad’s truck and was terrified he would find her. Fawn had run away three days earlier.

Her family was well known in Wake County as violent, aggressive white trash. About half of her uncles and her dad had done hard time for assault, grand theft auto, rape and drug charges. In the twelve years of her life she had known nothing but neglect and abuse at the hands of her family.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she was branded by her family’s reputation. At school she was already considered a throw away by most of the teachers. No matter how hard she tried in class, or what type of grades she received, they always acted like she was a waste of their time. Two of her cousins and her older sister had been pregnant by fourteen, and everyone seemed to expect her to follow in their footsteps.

The problem was Fawn knew that there should be more to life than this. She seemed to have a different understanding of the world than the rest of her family, and they could never seem to understand her. It was like she had been switched at birth at the hospital, the only problem was she looked like the rest of the family; short, dirty blond hair and green eyes.

Everything had gotten worse when she started having dreams of the future. When she tried to tell her momma about them, all she got was a snarled “you ain’t no Nora Bonesteel.” She didn’t tell them about her brother’s dog, Rusty. He had torn his leg on some barbed wire and it had gotten infected. They didn’t bother taking him to the vet, so he hobbled around on three legs, whimpering and looking pitiful until Fawn couldn’t stand it any longer. She tried to clean the pus out of the dog’s wounds. As she cleaned his leg with a wet washcloth, she was stunned to see the wound heal, leaving a nasty but health scab. She knew her family would never believe her.

Fawn just wanted out of Wake County. She wanted to go someplace where no one knew her or her family and would give her a chance. Fawn had dreams about being someone else sometimes. She knew she belonged somewhere, but it sure as hell wasn’t Hamelin or anywhere near it.

Fawn decided to stay hidden between the vans until she saw her father’s truck leave. It was beginning to rain, but she couldn’t run the risk of her dad seeing her. She was terrified of being hauled back home. She’d rather stay out in the storm.

Fawn hunched in on herself, glad that the vans at least blocked part of the wind. She looked up to see a man and two women dashing through the storm, apparently in high spirits as they approached the Inn’s entrance. Watching the three of them caused a strange ache in Fawn’s chest. She was so caught up in watching the short black man, the older blonde and the brunette laughing that she didn’t notice someone coming up behind her.

“Hey!” yelled a deep, masculine voice.

Startled, Fawn turned quickly to find herself just feet away from a tall man with bronzed skin and short black hair. He scowled at her for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise. Fawn knew this guy; she’d seen him in one of her dreams. They gawped at each other for a moment before the man snatched her up and began running through the rain to the Inn. “My, My d-dad…” Fawn stuttered. The tall Indian guy snarled, but she could tell that it wasn’t at her. “Let him try.”

~*~

Sam’s pain suddenly subsided to a dull echo. He found himself lying on the forest floor, looking up into a canopy of jewel-toned leaves of various shades above him. The wind was blowing around the tree tops. Sam felt kind of disappointed. If this was Heaven, he was bored.

Suddenly something nudged his side. Sam looked over at a very furious looking guy with long black hair and a dark complexion. Sam recognized him from the dream he had about Old Rattler and Jessica. The only problem was he looked like he wanted to stomp Sam into the ground.

“Get up.” Sam was chilled by the way his voice echoed out in the middle of the woods. Sam slowly climbed to his feet. It was strange; he knew he was still in the cave…

The mere thought jerked him back there for a second, to the almost fatally deep violation of his body, his life force being sucked out of him, the torment of his mind…

A slap staggered him where he stood and he was staring at the dark-haired man again. “I’ve worked hard enough to get you here and to try to protect your mind. Don’t put yourself back there again. You’ve caused enough trouble and we still don’t know how many more people will die today.”

Sam stared blankly at him. “People have died? You’re Ravenmocker?”

“Yes,” he replied harshly. Sam thought he might see the spirit again someday, but not under these circumstances. “Martha Ayers and Old Rattler both Passed earlier today, and more may die because of your actions.”

“Rattler is dead? What do you mean more will die because of me?" Sam asked bewildered.

"Even now your body is dying, all because you sold your life so cheaply."

Sam grew angry, "Yes, it was my choice to trade my life to save that girl. If I die, then I die. That's what being a Hunter is all about. That's what I've been raised to do, hunt things, save people.”

Ravenmocker snarled, “Did your father teach you to run into a situation without preparation? Did he reward you when your foolish actions put him and your brother at risk while trying to save you?”

Sam shook his head recalling a few memories, in his chagrin he answered as if it was his father rebuking him, "No sir."

"Samuel, you do not realize the power that you possess. You treat this gift so lightly. Do you realize that the demons that are feeding on your body, mind and power are growing stronger? By the time you are dead they will become almost unstoppable. Eighteen are already dead, dozens perhaps hundreds more will follow."

Sam stood open mouthed, before sputtering. "It was a life for a life, Dean will stop them. He’ll know what to do."

"Your brother and his search party are in grave danger, not only from the demons, but from the perils of this storm. Also, a rival Hunter group has arrived, but not to aid your brother. Even if they believed him they are not demon hunters."

"What do you mean?"

"Because you are missing the Hunters think that Vera may have killed you. Even now they are plotting to take her life, and perhaps Jay’s as well. She is in a great deal of jeopardy, and will, in all likelihood, die tonight, either in the search for you or at the hands of these strange Hunters. It was not a life for a life Samuel. You have set events in motion for a massacre."

Sam grew frustrated, "Are you saying I just should have walked away and let them kill that girl? I'm a Hunter. I'm supposed to be willing to die for others."

“Her name is Kathy Wyler, and yes, you should have let her die.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Ravenmocker grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “You are not well versed in the ways of a warrior. A warrior does not lay his head so passively at his enemies' feet to seal not only his fate but the fate of those that he has sworn to protect as well as the fates of his fellow Hunters! You have put all my plans to continue the Kesterson guardian line into jeopardy. Even your familiar is in her final death throes.”

Ravenmocker suddenly shoved him away. “Before you walked into this trap you knew you should have called for help. Why didn’t you? ”

Sam looked down at the ground sorrowfully. He had been willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, eager to see Jessica again, but he never wanted his death to set off a chain of events that were becoming catastrophic.

"What can I do now?" he murmured.

“Resist them, for as long as you can,” Ravenmocker said quietly. “I can not keep you here any longer and divide my power; I need to aid the others."

Sam blanched, resisting meant prolonging the agony. Grimly he nodded and the peaceful green bower disappeared to be replaced by the faces of his tormentors.

~*~

Ben Jorgensen was becoming more and more concerned. He was standing in a corner of Mike’s very crowded suite as the team discussed the information they had gathered. Something was very wrong, and not just with the mission but the team as well. About the only thing that had gone well was that they had Found two members, but trying to explain things to them and calming down Fawn had taken up precious time. Millie was stunned, but accepting. Fawn, on the other hand, was almost manic with joy. She was one of the rare Foundlings that had some sketchy memories of her previous lives as a Comacine, so she had received them with spastic glee. Ben hated doing it, but they had to sedate the child just to keep her from being underfoot. She was sleeping in LaShonda’s room after she had eaten her first decent meal in days.

Ben was uncomfortable with Mike’s decision to execute Vera Kesterson. All the evidence they had against her was circumstantial. Mike was convinced she was behind the recent string of murders and that she was a danger to Sam. Yes, they might need to kill her, but he felt that they should investigate her further first. The only information they had on her came from the files of the Knights. They had her recorded on their rolls as a weak psychic but competent Pagan priestess. There was nothing to indicate that she was a danger, but there also wasn’t anything indicating that she was anywhere near as powerful as the wards and traps on her office showed her to be. That could mean anything. He would be much more comfortable with orders to detain her while they finished investigating the situation. At least he had convinced Mike to detain Jay as a salvageable, misguided youth.

Ben exchanged glances with Atin, and his face showed concern as well. Mike was Ben’s foster brother, and even with his empathic abilities bound, he could read Mike easily. He knew that seeing the Winchesters all those years ago had left a deep mark on him, but now he was beginning to show signs of a long suppressed obsession. Ben could understand his eagerness to find the brothers, check on their welfare, but right now he was also concerned about Mike’s decision to take Sam in even though they hadn’t had any direct contact with him yet. If Sam and Dean Winchester were settling down and becoming part of this community, snatching them out of here could be very detrimental to both of them, especially Sam. It would take away a sense of security and belonging that they had never had in their lives. If Sam wasn’t rogue yet, and by all accounts he wasn’t, then a confrontation and kidnapping could well send him over the edge.

Ben wondered if the entire team shouldn’t just stand down and wait for the Knights and their own back up teams. The situation in Wake County was proving to be far more complex and dangerous than they thought. Pascal having a Visitation, a possible demonic infestation in the area, a powerful psychic/magician, two new Comacines, three of the team bound, and finding a psychic child that was obviously being trained by someone all within six hours. Then the Winchester brothers were thrown into the mix and their team leader was showing signs of obsession. He didn’t want the younger team members, Pascal and Zip, to be exposed to this situation. They shouldn’t have to see wet works this early, especially if the order was in doubt.

Ben slipped quietly out of the room, murmuring to Atin that he was going to check on Fawn. Atin just nodded, knowing that wasn’t what he was going to do, but would relay that message to anyone who asked.

Ben walked quickly to his room, locking his door behind him. He dialed an international number on his cell.

“Yes, this is Ben Jorgensen on the Winchester contact team. I need to speak to Mistress Tudor, it is urgent.”

~*~


“Sam Winchester is now 10-69. 10-17 Kesterson farm. Request Deputy LeDonne 10-25 Rice’s KOA.” Dean wasn’t sure if he was using the police codes correctly and he really didn’t care. He was only making the attempt to be sure half the damned county didn’t try searching the woods tonight and become demon kibble.

“10-4,” Kelly replied without yelling, so he thought he must not have screwed up the radio procedure too much. “Ranger Stargill will also 10-25 KOA.” Dean swore; they didn’t need anyone out there with them tonight that they might have to baby sit. He glanced at Vera’s silent form in the passenger’s seat. He already had to shepherd a green Guardian as it was. He was less worried about Griffin then Vera.

“10-4,” Dean responded, trying to think of how to tell Kelly that this Ranger Stargill shouldn’t come out. He couldn’t think of any radio code to use. “Um, I don’t think we will need the ranger,” he blurted out, waiting for Kelly to start yelling again; he didn’t have long to wait.

“Dean, Spencer requested Clayt’s help the same time he requested Rattler’s.” Kelly’s voice was strident; he realized that they were probably talking about her husband. Well, if he were a park ranger maybe they’d be all right. “Okay, 10-22” Dean responded.

Kelly seemed mollified by Dean’s 10-22, which meant he was telling her to disregard his last comment. “10-4, the National Weather Service has issued a Severe Thunderstorm Warning and a Flash Flood Watch. Millie Fortner now suspected 10-69.” Vera roused for the first time in a long while. “Damn,” she cursed softly, “Millie is the head of the emergency rescue squad.” Dean nodded; his face grim in the dim light as the storm blotted out the sun. “10-4,” he replied.

Deputy Martha Ayers and Old Rattler had been slaughtered earlier in the day. Deputy Joe LeDonne was almost killed. Now Sam and a girl were confirmed missing and the head of the emergency rescue team might be missing as well. Vera’s office had been broken into by other psychics and she’d apparently had a premonition about her own death.

Dean had been in situations before with a low certainty of survival, but tonight looked like a new record.

~*~

Jay was waiting anxiously for them at the farm. Dean ran out to the Impala to get weapons and supplies while Vera went to change into protective clothing and gather up what she needed. Dean almost grabbed the journal but he was certain these demons weren’t in there. Besides, exorcism rituals were part of Vera’s job. Shit, they were getting low on holy water. At least he had plenty of salt.

By the time Dean got through ransacking the trunk and returned to the house Vera and Jay were both in the ritual room. Vera had pulled all the swords off the walls and had them all leaning against the main altar in the center of the room. Both of them had some sort of braided cords wrapped around their waist and Vera was putting on a necklace of black and amber colored beads. Dean was struck by how silent they were; Jay’s eyes looked like they were twice as large as they should be. Dean was glad that Jay had worked with him and Sam on the Uktena job in Chattanooga; that had given Jay some experience. That was one less thing he had to worry about.

Vera was pale as she looked up at Dean. “You’re going to have to scry while we’re out there; I don’t think we’re going to be able to manage a map out in this.”

Dean looked startled. “Wait, I’m going to have to scry?”

She nodded. “Remember, blood calls to blood, and you and Sam have a link. I’m going to have to concentrate on keeping us hidden from the demons. I…” Vera closed her eyes as her voice wavered for a moment. “I can’t scry and hide us at the same time. I want Jay left free to deal with anything else that might come up. Do you have anything of Sam’s, like hairs from his hair brush or a favorite item? Something that is actually a part of him would be best.”

Dean gaped at her for a moment, he was going to scry? He had to pick out a component for a spell? Vera did tell him that he was a little psychic, and everyone could learn at least a little magic. Dean took a breath; this was new ground for all of them. “Let me go upstairs and look.”

Dean took the stairs two at a time and quickly began rummaging through Sam’s things. His eyes fell on a leather bundle and he felt like he had been shocked. Sam’s blood, on quartz crystals; blood calls to blood, and both Sam’s and his blood had been on the crystals for weeks. Even Dean knew that quartz crystals were used in magic to anchor and enhance spells. He snatched up the bundle and ran back downstairs.

Vera and Jay were talking quietly when he made it back to the ritual room. Shade was on the altar and Vera was petting her. The black, rabbit-like cat meowed pitifully once, Vera smiled sadly. “I understand,” she murmured. “Go stay with Star.” Shade nuzzled her hand once more then crawled back under the north altar with Star and the other familiars. Dean noticed that Griffin was frantically grooming himself on the floor at Vera’s feet, looking as if he were trying to get his fur back in order. Dean couldn’t help but smile, Griffin looked horrible. Dean plopped the bundle down on the altar and began untying it.

“What did you find?” Vera asked, curious as to why Dean had what looked like a small medicine bundle. Dean paused a second, realizing that yesterday he wouldn’t have dared even touching the altars, but now he was throwing things on them like it was a work table and Vera wasn’t protesting. There were so many implications in that he didn’t even want to think about it right now. She gasped when she saw the crystals, seeing the brownish red smears on them. “Where did you get these?” She asked, reaching for one.

“In Chattanooga,” Dean replied, his voice anxious. “They have mine and Sam’s blood on them, will they work?”

Vera looked up at Dean quickly. “Perfect Dean, I can’t think of anything better, but where did you get these? Why did you blood them?” Dean could see Jay franticly shaking his head. Dean scowled not understanding why Jay didn’t want him to talk about it. Suddenly Vera started cursing.

“What?” Dean asked, worried.

“Light Feather!” Vera spat, “you got them from Light Feather!”

Dean stared at her for a moment, deciding that if they all survived this he was going to have to find out the extent of Vera’s abilities. “How’d you know?” Dean asked.

“I can identify the energy signatures of anyone I’ve known or worked magic with. Light Feather has already keyed these crystals, and the spell was activated when you blooded them.” She grimaced. “The bastard actually was helpful for once. There’s a dual spell on these, one is keyed to your and Sam’s location and the other portion is keyed to your life force. Light Feather has known all along where you’ve been and for some reason wants to know if you’re dead or near death.” She glared at Jay and he winced. “We’ll talk about this later, right now; all I need to do is tweak the spell a little. It’ll save us a lot of time.”

Vera rummaged around under the main altar for a moment and pulled out a small plastic storage box. She extracted silver wire, wire cutters, pliers and a silver chain. Vera glanced at Dean. “Give me your ring.” He didn’t even ask why, he just pulled it off his finger and handed it over. Vera quickly wire wrapped the largest crystal, making a pendant of it before threading it through the silver chain and through Dean’s ring, and then fastened the clasp, making a pendulum. She handed it to Dean. “You should feel a pull from the crystal, maybe some warmth. It’ll get stronger the closer we get to Sam.”

Dean looked at the red brown smears on the crystals. “But the rain, it’ll wash off…” Vera cut him off quickly. “It doesn’t matter, the blood has been there and the spell already activated. Magic reaches back through time as well as forward.” Dean shook his head, wondering if the people of Wake County were ever going to stop surprising him.

Then Vera looked afraid again; she obviously steeled herself. Jay looked grim and resolute, making the teen look far older than he was for a moment. Dean suddenly felt a surge of hope, Jay was a psychic and magician; he’d already had a little experience. Dean was an experienced Hunter. Vera was considered one of the most knowledgable psychics and magicians in this part of the country and was a priestess as well. She might be inexperienced, but she was willing to sacrifice herself for the rest of them. Joe LeDonne was a vetern police officer, and the forest ranger was joining them.

They actually had a chance.

Then another thought occurred to Dean. Sammy was supposed to be even more powerful than Vera. If they all made it through tonight, then he would eventually lead a very powerful group; psychics and warriors, all at his command. He knew he was supposed to be a Hunt leader, but only at that moment did he realize what that really meant. Dean was both exhilarated and terrified. He was responsible for those that fought under him, and suddenly he felt a fierce protectiveness for all of them.

Then Dean’s mind came back to more practical matters, like the fact he was out of holy water. “Is there a Catholic church nearby?”

Jay and Vera both looked at him like he was insane for a moment. Vera recovered first. “Um, you want to stop by and pray before we go? I’m sorry, but there are not many Catholics in this part of the country. There are a few Baptist churches we can stop by if you didn’t mind.”

Dean frowned then realized why they misunderstood. “No!” he said exasperated, “I’m out of holy water.”

Jay smacked his forehead. Vera gave him an odd look. “Dean, I can bless water! Ye Gods, have you forgotten who you’re taking to! Jay could bless water in a pinch!” She turned to her nephew, “Go bring in about a gallon of water.” Jay scurried off down the hallway after giving Dean a disgusted look.

“There’s an iron cauldron under the West altar, haul it out for me.” Vera’s voice took on a quality of command he’d only heard her use a few times. She walked to the north altar and picked up a small crystal bowl before picking up a small silver knife from the main altar.

Dean hauled a small cauldron out and set it next to the main altar. “Uh, Jay is a priest too?” Dean asked weakly.

“Yes” Vera snapped, “he’s had his first Initiation.” Dean could hear the capitalization. “Anyone who has their first Initiation can function as a priest or priestess.” About that time Jay jogged back into the room and poured about a gallon of water into the cauldron.

“Stand back,” Vera muttered “give me some room to work.” She held her hands over the cauldron and began to speak.

“I exorcise you, O creature of Water
Be cleansed!
Cast out all impurities
Take in all that is good and healing”

Then she took up the crystal bowl; Dean could see that it was filled with salt. Vera held her hand over this as well.

“I exorcise you, O creature of Earth
Be cleansed!
Cast out all impurities
Take in all that is good and healing”

Vera then used the small silver knife to scoop out three blade fulls of salt, then stirred the cauldron three times with the knife.

“By the Power of the Lord and Lady
Let the contents of this cauldron
Be sanctified as a weapon against all that is unclean and unholy”

She paused for a moment, both hands over the cauldron.

“So mote it be”

Jay echoed her last sentence. The surface of the water shimmered silver and glowed slightly for just a moment. Dean swallowed. Salt water sanctified in a cold iron cauldron and stirred with a silver blade. If that didn’t affect the damned things they were hunting tonight they were in a lot more trouble than he thought.

After he and Jay finished filling water bottles Vera handed Jay one of the swords. Dean realized from its yellow sheath it was the one that usually hung over the East altar. Jay quickly fastened the belt around his waist. Vera held two swords in her hands, her face unreadable. One was from the main altar, the other from the north. After a few moments, she looked up at Dean and slowly offered him the sword from the main altar. Dean looked her in the eye, realizing that she was acknowledging him as the Hunt leader; it was a relief; he was afraid that she would try to take control tonight. Then he realized that he never should have worried. Vera was inexperienced, not stupid. They packed the supplies they needed into two of Jay’s backpacks and headed out.

~*~

“10-17, KOA.” Dean thought he would never want to see the inside of Vera’s truck again. The police radio, the sick feeling in his stomach, his anxiety with leading his first Hunt team, Sammy accidentally attacking Vera, Vera telling him to let her die if he had to, Jay’s disturbing silence in the back seat. There were too many bad memories in the cab already.

“10-4 Beta One. We have a possible 10-69, Fawn Hardryker, 12-year-old white female, blonde hair, green eyes. Missing since Friday evening.” Dean stared at the radio for a moment before snapping his eyes back to the road.

“10-4. Friday evening?” Dean asked, it was Monday and a 12-year-old had been missing that long and just now someone was reporting it?

Kelly’s reply was clipped. “Ask Vera.” Dean looked at her and Vera winced. “The family has a lot of…problems.” She explained delicately.

Dean was getting exasperated. “Kelly, why don’t you just tell me who’s not missing?”

“Deputy Winchester!” Kelly’s voice held that special tone that told Dean she was annoyed with him again.

Dean was grumbling under his breath when his cell rang. He didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID so let it go to voicemail, he so didn’t have time for this. Cheryl left Dean a message to call her, disappointed she couldn’t reach him.

~*~

The rain was beating down on the truck by the time they got to the KOA office. The three of them dashed through the rain to get inside while thunder boomed overhead. Dean was relieved to see Joe LeDonne and a short, slender man with dirty blond hair in a park ranger’s uniform waiting for them.

LeDonne quickly introduced everyone to Clayt Stargill. When Dean shook hands with the older man he was surprised. He seemed oddly gentle, but he held himself confidently and was strangely serene in the face of what events lay ahead of him. Dean wondered for a moment if he really knew what he was getting into.

Before he could talk with Clayt to be sure he understood; Joe quietly pulled Dean aside. “Dean, I don't think that Vera should go with us. She has no training or experience. She’s just going to slow us down, and I'm not too sure about Jay either.” Joe’s voice was gruff and he seemed annoyed that Vera was even there.

Dean stared at him a moment. “Are you crazy? Of course she should go with us. We aren't hunting a disgruntled post office employee here.”

Joe gave him a cold look. “What is she going to do? Throw books at it?”

Dean grunted; did he think a chick couldn’t hack it? “Vera is a Guardian; she knows magic, that's the only thing that's going to work against these demons.”

Joe gave Vera a long look as she talked with Jay and Clayt. “Magic?” he scoffed. “We’d be better off bringing Rev. Bruce with us if it's a demon, wouldn't we?”

Dean was getting impatient to find Sam; the man knew he’d been hunting things like this for a long time, why couldn’t he just follow orders? “Yes, magic, you know rituals and exorcisms; kick ass stuff.”

Joe just seemed to get more upset. “If she can't keep up with us what good is she going to be? Dean, I saw these things, she isn't going to be able to help us!”

Dean’s face set into a grim scowl. “This isn't open for debate LeDonne, I'll get her there if I have to carry her, now let's go.”

Joe’s face was turning red. “She's just going to get killed like Martha!”

Dean ground his teeth, Joe was using his outside voice and everyone noticed the conversation. Just great Joe, undermine Vera’s already shaky confidence. Dean lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. Great way to start off a life-threatening situation.

Dean raised his head and looked Joe in the eye. “Yeah, and we all could get killed here tonight. What's your point? Every time we hunt something like this, any of us could bite the big one. It’s part of what we do.” Dean noticed that Jay looked like he was about to bust out and start yelling at Joe himself, but he held back at a glance from Dean. Good, at least two of the people here weren’t going to give him shit and would follow orders.

Oddly enough, it was Clayt that settled the dispute. “Joe, she needs to go.” Clayt’s voice was soft, but it carried well. “You may have seen it, but we can't do everything that needs to be done. I am willing to die to be sure she gets there. You don't understand...there are some things that bullets and brute force won't accomplish.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Clayt's declaration and nodded his head. “What he said.” Well, that made three of them who were falling in line. Dean was curious about why Clayt said what he did, but he’d ask him about it later.

Joe looked furious. “Fine, what the hell are we supposed to be doing with these hunks of metal?” He asked as he waved around the sheathed sword Vera had given him. Dean noticed this one was the red sheathed sword from the south altar and she’d given Clayt the green sheathed sword from the west. Dean was going to have to ask the significance of all that. While Joe acted like she was handing him a dead fish Clayt had received his with respect bordering on reverence.

Now he’d run across a park ranger who apparently knew about demons, Hunters and Pagan priestesses; he and Sam had definitely fallen into the Twilight Zone. Dean jerked his thoughts back the current situation. Wake County was a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a mystery. He should just give up trying to figure it out and just accept the place for what it was.

For now he needed to do a little quick and dirty education for a new Hunter. “Did your bullets work Joe? Steel is one of the tools of the trade.”

Joe looked darkly at the sword in his hand. Vera made an exasperated sound and rolled her eyes. “They’re consecrated swords and live steel. With a little luck, they'll actually hurt the damned things. Are we ready to go before I get any more freaked?”

Dean nodded. “Come on, the longer we argue, the worse off Sammy and whoever else those demons have got are getting.”

~*~

Things were tense among the Comacines at the Mockingbird Inn. Cheryl hadn’t been able to get through to Dean. After the information they got at the library they knew somehow Light Feather out of Chattanooga may be involved.

But, the Comacine Order hated dealing with Light Feather. The bastard had shot and killed a young rogue psychic about a year before. The woman had been a telekinetic and fire starter. Yes, she had caused some serious injuries, but no deaths. She hadn’t done any of it intentionally; she wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. She didn’t understand what was happening.

Light Feather knew they were in town to extract her and send her for training and therapy, but he still shot and killed her. The son of a bitch then told them they had no reason to be in his territory and to get out. That had been Pascal’s first mission and he still had nightmares about it. He’d had a vision but they couldn’t get there fast enough to stop it.

And there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Light Feather was a local police officer and a Guardian. Even if he had killed an uncontrolled psychic with little or no provocation, they needed every Guardian they had. The good he did outweighed the bad in the long run.

They decided to go ahead and try calling Light Feather to see if they could get any useful information. One thing was certain; the bastard would make them pay for it. It was a matter of police record that the nephew, Jay Kesterson, had been arrested for the theft of Native American remains in Chattanooga. Maybe the Chattanooga area Guardian could tell them why he took them. Could Jay have stolen them for Vera? One of the darkest forms of magic, necromancy involved raising and coercing the spirits of the dead. They could be in a whole new world of trouble if Vera had a bound ghost working for her in addition to a demon or two.

Mike decided that Cheryl should make the call; she was the member of the team that had the most recent active law enforcement experience. She also hadn’t had any direct dealing with Light Feather in the past, so Mike hoped she could keep her patience with him more than any of the others could.

Cheryl hoped she would be able to get in touch with Light Feather; she hadn’t been able to contact Dean. She only hoped this phone call would be more successful.

“Good evening, this is the Pacer residence, Darcy speaking.”

Cheryl raised her eyebrow at the chipper young woman’s voice. They knew Light Feather didn’t have any children, could this be a junior member of his team? “Hello, this is Cheryl Sutherland; I need to speak to Light Feather.”

The young woman suddenly sounded even more respectful than she was before. “I am sorry, ma'am,” Darcy said with carefully good manners, “but he is transporting a prisoner right now. Can I take a message or help you in any way?”

Cheryl smiled, an easily impressed young woman might be better than talking to Light Feather himself. “Perhaps you can Darcy. I'm with the Comacine Order.”

The girl gasped. “Yes ma'am!”

Cheryl smirked, now they just had to hope she actually knew something. “About two months ago, a young man named Jay Kesterson was arrested in Chattanooga. Do you know anything about the circumstances of his arrest?”

“Oh!” Cheryl could tell she was about to get something. Darcy sounded excited. “Yeah, I know Jay. He was arrested for stealing Native American remains and artifacts from the UTC archaeology lab.”

Good she knew something. Now to see if she knew the reasons why Jay took them. “Were the remains ever recovered?”

Darcy hesitated. “Well, not officially.”

Cheryl was a bit relieved, Darcy sounded like she knew something. “So you know where they are?”

“Ummm....”

Cheryl suppressed a grunt of frustration. “I only am trying to ascertain whether Jay passed the bones on to someone else or if Light Feather recovered them.”

Darcy continued to hesitate. “Uh, um, well, ah...neither one of them have them.”

Cheryl bit her lip. The girl was talking in circles. “Does Light Feather know where they are?”

“Umm...he's a police officer, you know?” Cheryl threw her free hand up in irritation. She decided to try another subject.

“Darcy, was Jay in touch with either Sam or Dean Winchester?”

The girl perked up. “Oh yeah, Sam and Dean were here about two months ago.”

Cheryl smiled. The famous Winchester charm was working for them again. “Really?” She said, trying to be casual. “Do you know how they met?”

Darcy sounded enthusiastic about the subject. Bingo. “Sam and Dean were down here on a Hunt and ran into Jay. They took care of it.”

Cheryl blinked. “Sam, Dean and Jay took care of what exactly?”

“An Uktena; pretty nasty. Dean was almost killed here,” Darcy paused for dramatic effect, “but Jay got him to the hospital in time.”

Cheryl was puzzled. She had put two and two together and wondered if the bones were linked to the hunt somehow. “And yet only Jay went to prison, I wonder why?”

Oh,” Darcy chirped, “everybody knows that. Jay wouldn't give them up, he might be a Kesterson, but he's not a snitch and Light Feather helped with it, too.”

Cheryl was trying to keep up with who was on first. “So Light Feather helped Jay, Dean and Sam kill the Uktena?” Mike started talking excitedly as soon as he heard the word ‘Uktena’. Cheryl waived him silent.

“Yes.”

Cheryl nibbled her lip and decided to get a little more aggressive. “How was Sam doing at the time?”

Darcy sighed like a pining twelve-year-old who was worried about a boy she had a crush on. “He didn't look too good. Light Feather thought he might be going rogue.”

Cheryl gulped. Light Feather wasn’t known for being compassionate to rogues. “What did Light Feather do to him?”

Darcy sounded confused. “Do to him? What do you mean?”

“Did Light Feather get Sam any help?”

Darcy seemed to be even more confused at Cheryl’s question. “No. Why would he? He was going to ask him to stay if Dean...if he was left alone, but he had his brother.”

Comprehension dawned on Cheryl. Light Feather wasn’t going to help Sam or anyone else if there wasn’t something in it for him. He was hoping that Dean would die so he could recruit a grieving Sam. “Of course, well we are only a phone call away. If he runs into any more rogue psychics, have him call me, okay? Tell them we’ll make it worth his while.” Cheryl gave the young woman her cell number and said her goodbyes.

Cheryl relayed what she had learned to the rest of the team. Jay Kesterson was turning out to be more important than they thought.

~*~

Dean was deeply grateful for Clayt’s help. He had insisted on bringing and using professional search and rescue equipment and procedures until they picked up Sam’s trail. They all wore climbing helmets with headlamps attached, protective rain ponchos and they all carried whistles to signal each other. The pendulum Vera had made for him was working, but Sam had been all over the campground and the surrounding area. They had to work to find the trail. The group started from where Sam’s cell phone was found. They fanned out; staying within hearing distance to find any more clues to the direction Sam might have taken. Jay took the east position, LeDonne north, next Dean and Vera stayed together and Clayt to the west. Clayt found a trail of broken branches and the others fell in behind him as he marked the trail with brightly colored plastic tags. Clayt wasn’t taking any chances; if any of them got separated from the others he wanted them to be able to find the way back. After about ten minutes the trail seemed to vanish and they had to fan out again.

Suddenly the rain began to let up and the sky was a bit lighter. “I think the worst of the storm is over!” Dean yelled, encouraged that conditions were getting better. Clayt and Joe shook their heads. “I’m sorry Dean,” Vera told him, “the first wave of storms are moving out, there’s at least two more after this one. We need to hurry and take advantage of the break between them.” Disappointment clutched at his heart.

The next wave of the storm came in before they picked up the trail again. The rain came in downpours, knocking leaves off of trees. The rain was causing small streams to seem to appear out of nowhere, making footing treacherous, and the forest floor was littered with stones, underbrush and dead leaves. They had to navigate steep hills and small mountains out in the hellish weather. Dean wanted to scream in frustration, they were not covering nearly as much ground as he had hoped. They were all stumbling around in the near darkness, and to make matters worse, thunder and lightning seemed to be howling towards them, making it hard to hear and temporarily blinding them when lightning flashed. Vera turned out to be less of a problem then he thought; no one could make good time out here. They shouldn’t have bothered with the ponchos, they were all drenched anyways.

Dean, out of despair, was ready to call off the search until the storm passed. They were having a hard time scrying out Sam’s trail and the storm was becoming deadly. It wouldn’t do Sam any good if they were injured out in this storm. Dean was debating calling off the search for a few hours when Vera almost knocked him over to get his attention. She blew her whistle and pointed frantically up a slight hill to their right.

Dean was surprised to see what Vera was pointing at. The gaunt, matted haired woman in a dirty blue dress was urgently beckoning them to follow her. Was this the ghost of Katie Wyler? She had spoken to Sam before, giving him warnings. Could she be leading them to him? Jay, LeDonne and Clayt stumbled through the rain to catch up with them.

Even with Katie leading them, their progress was agonizingly slow. Katie kept running ahead of them, and they would lose sight of her before she would run back and beckon them again. She never got too close to them, staying at least twenty feet away, almost as she were both afraid and desperate to help them. Dean guessed all of the supernatural fighting weapons they had with them was making the apparently benevolent spirit nervous.

They followed her for what seemed like miles, making Dean concerned because he was picking up nothing from the pendulum. Katie hovered next to a rocky outcrop for a few moments before disappearing into some underbrush. Was there a cave under there? Suddenly the pendulum began to tug at him, leading him to the outcropping. He stopped to be sure everybody caught up. The Hunt team crowded around him so they could all hear. “This could be it!” Dean yelled over the sound of the storm. Lightning struck nearby, just the next ridge over, sending thunder rolling over all of them. Dean looked skyward in desperation for the thunder to finish. Joe and Clayt looked like they were holding up well; Jay looked like he had been dragged through a mud hole and had some scrapes on his face but otherwise looked good. The teen looked like new knight on his first holy crusade and would rather die than admit to any weakness. Dean couldn’t help but smile. Vera…Vera looked pale, the bandage on her left hand was mostly torn off and he could see the torn stitches. Damn it. It seemed liked he had thrown the picture at her months ago, but it had only been Thursday, four days before. Then she had torn it back open again on Friday when she went after Sam. The look in her eyes calmed him; they were hard and glittered in the dim light.

“Joe and Clayt, you go in with me first, Jay, stay with your aunt until we whistle for you. I’ll take point.” Dean felt his throat getting raw with the effort of screaming over the storm. There was no way he was letting Vera walk into that cave blind.

Dean led the way as they slowly pushed through the brush; he felt a jolt of adrenalin as he saw broken branches. After pushing through a bit further he saw a large crevasse in the rocks. Dean slowly eased his head into the narrow space.

His headlamp at first only showed an uneven back wall about twenty feet away and a lumpy, uneven floor. He could hear some shuffling near the back and then recognized uneven breathing. Dean had a shotgun in one hand and a sword in the other as he dashed sideways into the cave. He heard a stifled cry and something moving across the cave floor. Dean moved quietly around the side of a small boulder and found himself staring down into the face of a kneeling, hunched over young girl. Her face was bruised and there was blood crusted all over her lower face from her nose. He realized she was nude, her body battered and bruised. This must be Kathy Wyler. The girls started crying in despair, cowering at his feet. Dean suddenly realized what he must look like to her; an angry man she didn’t know holding a sword and a shotgun. He stepped away from her and quickly blew the whistle to call everyone else in. Dean laid down his weapons after a quick scan of the cave and knelt next to the broken girl.

“Hey, hey,” he tried to get her attention without touching her. “We’ve been looking for you. You’re Kathy, right?” The girl stopped crying long enough to peer up at Dean through her hair, matted with blood and sweat. The rest of his team came piling into the small cave. Clayt’s gentle eyes hardened and Vera shoved people out of the way to get to Kathy. She draped her rain poncho over the girl, covering her nakedness. Vera gently clutched the young woman to her, murmuring something that Dean couldn’t make out. LeDonne looked on impassively; he’d seen far too many sexual assault victims. Jay looked like he was going to be sick. Dean’s glance told him to suck it up. Jay would be seeing scenes like this way too often. Clayt pulled out an emergency blanket for Kathy to wrap up in.

“Kathy,” Dean asked her urgently, trying to be gentle. “My brother, Sam, tall guy; do you know what happened to him? Was he here?” Kathy whimpered as Vera gently brushed dried blood and matted hair away from her face. “He…” Kathy’s voice faltered. “He traded…himself...for me.” She hasped out before collapsing again.

“Clayt, Jay, take Kathy back to the campground. Jay, get home as soon as you can; be careful, there are other psychics in town and we don’t know what they want. Stay there until you hear from one of us.” Jay nodded. Vera looked at Kathy and opened her mouth to say something before she closed it. Dean could tell Kathy’s condition had touched something deep in the older woman.

The horrific evidence of Kathy’s brutal rape was lessened by the fact that she was still alive. The pendulum that Vera had made was pulling him strongly now, they had the trail, and Dean knew they wouldn’t loose it again. He felt Griffin coiling around his legs. Dean felt a stab of guilt; he’d forgotten his familiar was with them.

After they all made their way out of the cave Jay stopped and pointed down into a hollow below them. Katie Wyler stood there, glowing slightly through the rain and thunder, arms outreached. Her dress was no longer dirty or ragged, and she no longer looked on the verge of starvation. She was clean and dry, in a sturdy, well made blue dress, her glossy brown hair in waves around her face.

Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now I'm found,
Was bound, but now I'm free.

T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.

The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...
as long as life endures.

The hymn echoed through woods, both eerie and strangely beautiful. This was a version of Amazing Grace Dean had never heard. An odd finger of light reached down to Katie, and he could see her body slowly absorb into it. Her face showed a mingling of joy, fear, relief and hope. Even as her body disappeared and there was only light left, they could still hear her sing.


Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.


~*~

There are several alternate verses to the song Amazing Grace. This is the first version I heard as a child. I heard it at the small church my grandfather was the minister of in Eastern Tennessee almost thirty years ago. - Lee