Chapter 33

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A noise from the back seat of the Impala startled me, and I jumped slightly. Dean's eyes (and hands) were back on the road.

"What the hell-?" he questioned, then slowed down and began to dig in his bag in the back seat. He pulled out his homemade EMF detector and stared at it for a second before coming to a complete stop. He looked at me, his eyebrow raised, but then his attention went to something beyond me.

My head whipped around and I took in what looked like an old apple orchard.

Without a word, Dean and I got out of the car and made our way through the orchard.
"Is it just me or does this whole situation remind you or a bad horror movie?" I asked Dean. He smirked.

"Yeah, this is just a little too Wrong Turn for my liking," Dean replied.

We kept walking, and I began to trail farther and farther from Dean. Up ahead, I noticed a scarecrow and walked over to look at it.

It's face was stretched tight, and it was easy to imagine that it was a real skull. "Dean," I said, and he walked over.

"What the hell-?" he said, then added, "Dude, that is fugly."

I nodded. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing interesting."

I walked over to Dean and took his hand and we began to walk back to the Impala. There was a rustle behind us and I whipped my head around, stopping to look back. I didn't see anything, so Dean and I began to walk again.

"You know," I said, laying my head on his shoulder, "I could get used to this."

"Get used to what?" Dean asked curiously.

"Just you and me. No Sam. Me riding shotgun. You being..." I searched for the right word. "normal."

Dean chuckled. "Give it a few more years. He'll leave the nest and we won't know what to do with ourselves."

Crack! The sound of a branch breaking underfoot startled me, and this time when I turned around, I saw it. Towering over me in all its terrifying glory.

Instinctively, I pulled my gun and shot the scarecrow in the chest. Dean spun around and grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me backwards as the shots rang through the air.

I'd emptied an entire clip into the beast and was just about to seriously hightail it out of there when I tripped over a root and fell backwards onto Dean.

This is it, I thought a bit melodramatically. This is how I'm going to die.

But, in true Winchester fashion, Dean swooped in and saved the day.

Before I had time to even process what was happening, Dean had tossed me aside like a bag of potatoes. As I landed with a soft thud, Dean pushed the scarecrow back with his feet.

"Get the hell out of here," Dean hissed, and he didn't have to tell me twice. I was on my feet and sprinting towards the Impala without a look back. I kept my focus on my feet, trying my hardest not to trip. The black bob that was the Impala grew bigger and bigger as I approached it, and when I finally reached it, I opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat. I hastily locked all the doors and then sat in the passenger seat, my heart pounding and my breath labored. I made a mental note to make a copy of Dean's Impala key so that if we ever needed to get out in a hurry, like say, now, I could start the car and have it ready for him.

As my breathing began to slow and the pounding in my ears began to fade, the knot in my stomach began to grow. It was getting dark, fast, and Dean still wasn't back yet. My mind raced at the possibilities. If the scarecrow had killed Dean, he'd already be after me. If not, and Dean was still alive, then he most likely needed help.

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