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Bobby rubbed his left eye until he could see spots behind his eyelid. He was too damn old to be making long road trips on little to no sleep. He cranked the handle on the side of the door, rolling the window down some to get a blast of cool air, hoping it would help wake him up.

Bobby caught movement from the side of the road just seconds before a figure hurtled into the road right in front of his car. He slammed on the brakes, and the squealing of metal and smell of rubber burning across asphalt assaulted his ears and nose.

The thud of the a fender making contact with another solid object echoed sickeningly in the silence. Bobby closed his eyes, praying that when his legs would hold him up all he'd find was a deer or maybe a farm animal.

He pushed the door open, wincing at the loud creak that bounced of the woods surrounding the roadway. Bobby moved to the front of the car expecting to find a crumpled body. He was greeted with a dented passenger side fender, broken headlight, plastic strewn asphalt, but no body or animal carcass.

He scratched his head in confusion. Straightening his hat, he bent closer to examine the damage done to the car. He was just standing up when his eyes landed on several drops splattered on the dark expanse of roadway.

Bobby reached out, touching one and bringing the evidence up for a closer inspection. The headlights bounced off the garish red fluid smeared across his fingers leaving no question that it was blood.

It had taken Bobby almost a full day to track the something he'd hit. The longer the day wore on, the easier it the trail had been to follow. The progress from 'hardly a trace' to tracks 'any blind man could follow' told Bobby that exhaustion and injury was about to bring whatever it was to ground.

A couple of hours before sundown and the trail stopped dead. If he hadn't already known that there was no way he'd lost the trail, he'd have given up after an hour of looking and headed back the way he'd come. The weather had started to turn a few hours back. The temperature had dropped as the winds picked up, and the clouds rolled in to cover the once bright and sunny day. Bobby felt a chill in the air as the wind picked up around him.

He was contemplating setting up camp when a gust of wind blew through the woods and produced an odd whistling noise. It didn't take long for Bobby to find the entrance to a den. Vines and weedy overgrowth that most people would have overlooked covered the opening.

He wasn't most people, but he had a feeling if whatever he'd been tracking had been in better shape he wouldn't have found it either. His choices were limited, crawl in and find what he'd been chasing, or set up camp and wait until it decided to leave its hiding spot.

The blood trail he'd followed turned the tide in favor of crawling in instead of waiting. He grabbed his flashlight, checked that he had both his gun and knife before cautiously inching his way into the small opening. Once he'd cleared the first several feet, he was able to stand hunched over, which had his knees thanking him but his back cursing him.

Thankfully, a few more feet in and he was able to stand to his full height. He swept the flashlight around the cavern, keeping his back to the closest wall. Mother Nature had cut a deep hole into the rocks leaving behind smooth stone at the base where Bobby was sure water had run at some point in the distant past.

Higher up, the walls were rough with sharp rocks jutting out, waiting to stab at unsuspecting flesh. He dropped the focus of his flashlight, running the beam along the floor of the cave, and almost missed the huddled form pushed as far back into the corner as humanly possible, but several patches of red caught and held in the weak light.

Bobby carefully made his way closer, opting not to call any more attention to himself than his entrance had already done. He was almost positive the creature was either already dead or unconscious, but he wasn't taking any chances. He crouched down next to the body, reaching out to shake the shoulder closest to him, while keeping as much distance as he could.

"Hey buddy. You okay?"

When he received no response, he reached over and felt for a pulse. The week thump against his fingers did nothing to slow his own racing heart. He moved the light over the figure's back, which was about the only part he could see at the moment. There were long lines of blood plastering the shirt up against skin.

"What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Bobby grumbled under his breath.

Finally out of options, he reached out and pulled until the body rolled towards him, a small moan echoing in the cave as the motion jarred more wounds Bobby was sure were still hidden from his view.

He looked down at the body in front of him, getting a glimpse at what he'd been chasing all day long. The light played over sandy blonde hair, long pale lashes rested against too thin angular cheeks, labored breaths puffed out of chapped lips that were way too familiar looking.

"Well, balls," Bobby whispered, scratching his head in confusion and worry.

"Is your brother with you?" Bobby's gruff demand caught Sam by surprise when he answered the phone.

"Not right this second. He went to get us something to eat. Why?" A ball of anxiety built in his stomach as he waited for a response.

"You've not run into anything odd lately, have you?

"Bobby, our whole life is odd. Can you be a little more specific?"

"Witches, tricksters or something of the like?"

"No, we just finished a hunt with Melusina who was eating her dates," Sam offered.

"Where are you at right now?" Bobby asked, filing the boys latest hunt away for future discussion.

"Kinzua Lake, Pennsylvania," Sam answered. He started grabbing items from around the room and throwing them into their duffle bags.

"All right, I'm on the outskirts of Oregon. Grab your brother and meet me at the house."

Bobby's line went dead before Sam could reply.