that.”
Sam and Dean wasted no time trampling through the weeds and briars to the back of the boulder. Dean began perusing the ground around the base of the boulder, taking pictures every few seconds. Sam panned the camera in a slow arc from the boulder through the trees and back.
The video done, Sam switched the camera off and let it dangle from the strap around his neck. “Dean, I’m going to see what I can feel on this side of the rock, okay?”
“Gotcha. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for anything, you just yell if you feel something weird.”
Pressing both hands to the rock’s surface, Sam closed his eyes and let his senses expand. The stone felt cold and rough under his palms, and the air smelled damp. A gust of wind moaned through the branches overhead. Sam grimaced at the sharp sting of the frigid breeze on his face and ears. He wished he’d worn a cap.
Something flickered ghost-like on the edge of Sam’s inner vision. Concentrating as hard as he could, he nudged his awareness closer to it, trying to understand what it was. What he sensed confused him. It felt static. Dead and fading, like the smell of a match after it’s snuffed out.
Bracken crackled to Sam’s left, then he caught the spicy scent of Dean’s cologne. “What’re you feeling?” Dean asked, keeping his voice low as everyone in the group had learned to do when one of their psychics was working.
Sam shook his head. “I’m not sure. Like I said before, it’s not threatening at all. It’s barely even there.”
“And it’s not like at South Bay? Or Oleander House?”
It wasn’t, not really. But there was a flavor of the familiar about what Sam sensed that made him reluctant to dismiss the potential link so easily. Especially in light of what the Sunset Lodge guests had seen here.
“I’m not sure, actually.” Opening his eyes, Sam pushed away from the rock and stuck his chilled hands in his pockets. “It feels similar, in a way, but not the same. Like it’s a faded version of what was there at Oleander House and the high school.”
Leaning his back against the boulder, Dean stared thoughtfully at Sam’s face. “Kind of like the difference between red and pink, huh?”
Sam laughed. “That’s actually a really good analogy. If what I felt at the high school was red, this is definitely a pastel pink.”
“Hmm.” Dean scratched his chin. “Wonder what that means?”
“I have no idea. Did you see anything behind the rock, back in the woods?”
“Not a thing.” Dean gave him an apprehensive look. “You think we should walk back there a little?”
“Bo would want us to.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
At that moment, Bo hobbled around the edge of the rock. “Okay, I didn’t find anything worth seeing on that side. What about y’all?”
“Just boring old weeds and trees,” Dean answered cheerfully. “But Sam’s mojo caught something.”
“Pretty much what I felt before,” Sam elaborated. “Vague, non-threatening, almost not there. It feels like a faded-out version of what I sensed at Oleander House.”
Bo’s jaw tightened. “Okay. Sam, give me the video camera. You keep the notebook and pen. I’ll take video. I want you to concentrate on your psychic senses. See if what you feel grows stronger or weaker, or changes in any other way, as we go into the woods. Dean, continue to take stills.”
“How many?” Dean brandished the camera. “I brought all but a couple of our memory cards, and extra batteries for the cameras and the laptop, but we can only download so many times before all our batteries die. I figure they have a generator here, but it’ll be for emergencies only. We need to be careful how many pics we take.”
“Damn, you’re right.” Bo tugged hard on his braid, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Okay, well, for now just take stills if we see something worth taking pictures of. I’ll do the same with video.”
Dean nodded. Sliding an arm around Bo’s waist, Sam kissed his brow. “That works. I’m
Sam and Dean wasted no time trampling through the weeds and briars to the back of the boulder. Dean began perusing the ground around the base of the boulder, taking pictures every few seconds. Sam panned the camera in a slow arc from the boulder through the trees and back.
The video done, Sam switched the camera off and let it dangle from the strap around his neck. “Dean, I’m going to see what I can feel on this side of the rock, okay?”
“Gotcha. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for anything, you just yell if you feel something weird.”
Pressing both hands to the rock’s surface, Sam closed his eyes and let his senses expand. The stone felt cold and rough under his palms, and the air smelled damp. A gust of wind moaned through the branches overhead. Sam grimaced at the sharp sting of the frigid breeze on his face and ears. He wished he’d worn a cap.
Something flickered ghost-like on the edge of Sam’s inner vision. Concentrating as hard as he could, he nudged his awareness closer to it, trying to understand what it was. What he sensed confused him. It felt static. Dead and fading, like the smell of a match after it’s snuffed out.
Bracken crackled to Sam’s left, then he caught the spicy scent of Dean’s cologne. “What’re you feeling?” Dean asked, keeping his voice low as everyone in the group had learned to do when one of their psychics was working.
Sam shook his head. “I’m not sure. Like I said before, it’s not threatening at all. It’s barely even there.”
“And it’s not like at South Bay? Or Oleander House?”
It wasn’t, not really. But there was a flavor of the familiar about what Sam sensed that made him reluctant to dismiss the potential link so easily. Especially in light of what the Sunset Lodge guests had seen here.
“I’m not sure, actually.” Opening his eyes, Sam pushed away from the rock and stuck his chilled hands in his pockets. “It feels similar, in a way, but not the same. Like it’s a faded version of what was there at Oleander House and the high school.”
Leaning his back against the boulder, Dean stared thoughtfully at Sam’s face. “Kind of like the difference between red and pink, huh?”
Sam laughed. “That’s actually a really good analogy. If what I felt at the high school was red, this is definitely a pastel pink.”
“Hmm.” Dean scratched his chin. “Wonder what that means?”
“I have no idea. Did you see anything behind the rock, back in the woods?”
“Not a thing.” Dean gave him an apprehensive look. “You think we should walk back there a little?”
“Bo would want us to.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
At that moment, Bo hobbled around the edge of the rock. “Okay, I didn’t find anything worth seeing on that side. What about y’all?”
“Just boring old weeds and trees,” Dean answered cheerfully. “But Sam’s mojo caught something.”
“Pretty much what I felt before,” Sam elaborated. “Vague, non-threatening, almost not there. It feels like a faded-out version of what I sensed at Oleander House.”
Bo’s jaw tightened. “Okay. Sam, give me the video camera. You keep the notebook and pen. I’ll take video. I want you to concentrate on your psychic senses. See if what you feel grows stronger or weaker, or changes in any other way, as we go into the woods. Dean, continue to take stills.”
“How many?” Dean brandished the camera. “I brought all but a couple of our memory cards, and extra batteries for the cameras and the laptop, but we can only download so many times before all our batteries die. I figure they have a generator here, but it’ll be for emergencies only. We need to be careful how many pics we take.”
“Damn, you’re right.” Bo tugged hard on his braid, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Okay, well, for now just take stills if we see something worth taking pictures of. I’ll do the same with video.”
Dean nodded. Sliding an arm around Bo’s waist, Sam kissed his brow. “That works. I’m
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