Dean had
forgotten how cold a desert could turn at night. He walked across the sands, keeping his
flashlight turned off. The light of the
full moon was enough for him. He had
dropped Sam off at the other end of the dry river bed they were following. The idea had been to trap the skin walker
between them. This one was taking on the
form of a mountain lion. Both the rifle
and handgun he carried were loaded with silver bullets.
The river
bed entered a canyon. Sam felt nervous
upon entering the area. The skin walker
could be above him as well as in front of him.
It was taking time to go among the boulders in the canyon. He had worn only a blue jean jacket and the temperature was dropping fast.
Dean climbed among the boulders on his side of the river bed, wondering how close
Sam was to him. He was not happy about
the canyon and being separated while in it.
Every ounce of information they had gathered said it was just a dry river
bed. The Shaman on the reservation had
not told them everything.
Sam took
the time to look at his watch in the moonlight.
It was three in the morning. He
rubbed his eyes and kept going. He hoped
Dean didn’t get too frustrated and do something stupid. It should never have taken this long, but the
boulder ridden canyon was a surprise. He
cursed the fact that there had been no WIFI in the area. He felt they had been misled. The younger Winchester wanted to find his
brother first, then the skin walker.
Dean found
the silence nerve wracking. He would
walk a ways, than climb amongst the boulders, looking for signs of a large
cat. The man found nothing.
Sam looked
at his watch and saw that it was after four in the morning. He sat for a moment and pulled bottled
water from his backpack. After a long
drink, the young hunter screwed the cap back on the bottle. He turned to place it in his backpack when he
heard a gunshot echoing through the canyon.
“Dean!”
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