“If an enemy has alliances, the problem is grave and the enemy's position is strong.”-Sun Tzu
Dean was having the nicest dream about mountains when the Deliverance dueling banjos ring tone Sam had downloaded on his phone interrupted his jaunt with nature. He had scored the kitchen table that converted into a bed by beating his little brother in a two out of three match of rock, paper, scissors, forcing Sam to the top bunk. So Dean only needed to reach over his head to grab his cell from the counter top. “Yeah?”
A soft-spoken southern drawl had him alert. He pushed himself to a seated position, rubbing at his eyes. “This is Dean.”
It was Maggie from the bar last night. Dean had given her his phone number for various reasons, one being case-related. “You're kidding me?”
Dean had presented himself as a reporter from the Knoxville Times, there to do a story on the big race and the effect on tourism, but more interested in the recent deaths. He had asked the young woman to call if anymore unusual occurrences popped up on the radar or if she got lonely.
Unless the woman considered rooster-crowing, crack of the dawn phone calls as foreplay, he was pretty sure the call was concerning the gig. Which meant Sam and Caleb should also have to be awake for it. He picked up one of the butterfly shaped pillows and launched it at Reaves who was on the bottom bunk. “When did it happen?”
“Damn it, Deuce,” Caleb growled, rolling over and attempting to ignore the next pillow that caught him in the back of the head. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“His body was impaled on the tree limbs?” Dean asked the question louder than necessary.
“Whose body?” Sam's sleepy voice wafted down from the top bunk, and Dean grinned in satisfaction.
“Do you know who this guy was?” He asked and waited for Maggie to continue.
Whoever said southerners spoke slowly had apparently not met the fiery red-head. Her excited state and exaggerated pronunciation caused her words to blur together, and Dean had to focus to understand her story. “So, another employee of the paper company. Yeah. That's a real coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Caleb rolled onto his back, resigned to his fate to be up before the sun. “I'm guessing Maggie's not a Mensa candidate?”
The butterfly nightlight by the bed allowed Caleb to see Dean give him the bird. “You know I'll mention you in the byline, sweetheart. Where'd you say this all took place?”
Sam leaned over his bunk, looking at Reaves. “Elementals again?”
Caleb rubbed a hand over his face. “Sounds like. Damn it.”
“Sure thing. You bet.” Dean finally shut the phone and tossed it back on the counter.
“Let me guess? Another freak storm that came out of nowhere? Just the like the first death.” Caleb pushed himself up on one elbow.
“How else do you explain Micah Hill, foreman for HPP Logging, sprouting several new limbs, none of them the human kind?”
Sam sat up, letting his long legs dangle over the side of the bunk. “Sounds like we're definitely working with a pissed off sylph or Paralda.”
“Let's hope it's a single sylph, considering how Johnny's notes painted the elemental he worked with.” After Dean and Caleb had returned with pizza and beer, they had spent the better part of the evening piecing John's notes together with what they knew about the current case. “I don't want to go up against more than one of the bastards.”
Dean looked at him. “Dad had the banishing spell. Right?”
“Yeah.” Sam jumped down, shaking the entire RV when he landed. “It's pretty basic and it makes sense that if you can summon an elemental, then you can banish one.” He explained around a yawn.
“Banish it to where exactly?”
Sam shrugged. “I think it disperses the energy more than sends it anywhere like when you're dealing with a demon.”
Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he hadn't had that third drink. “You boys are missing the important part.”
“What's that?” Dean asked.
“John was dealing with a water elemental.”
“Yeah?”
Reaves finally levered himself to a sitting position, moving out from under the bunk so he could stretch. “An elemental that was confined to the water source it was working from.”
“He had a way to contain it.” Sam nodded as he caught onto what Caleb was pointing out. “An air elemental could provide a problem. You can't exactly rope the wind.”
“What kind did Sawyer deal with? You said he and the rest of Rat Pack worked a job with one.”
Caleb's mouth twitched at Dean's nickname for Ian and Fisher. “He didn't have time to get into it. We'll call him back on the way to the latest scene of the crime. No reason he shouldn't be up and about on this beautiful Sunday morning.”
Dean snorted. “Probably getting ready for church. You know how respectable he is.”
“Champagne brunch is more like it.” Reaves shook his head. “Either way, he still owes us for that whole fiasco at Christmas.”
“Speaking of that, should we really rely on good old Josh's intel?”
“He's the best source we have.” Sam stated to his brother. Joshua might have been a jerk on most occasions but he had saved both Dean and Caleb's lives in a roundabout way. Sam couldn't just brush that off. “He's never let us down.”
“No, he's only led us blindly into bad situations.” Dean insisted. “I'm just saying…”
“That you're paranoid?” Caleb interrupted, a hint of teasing in his tone.
“It's only being paranoid if it's not true.”
Sam yawned again. “Well, until you woo an elemental expert in one of the local bars, we're stuck with Josh.”
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The police had wrapped up their initial investigation into the tragic death of Micah Hill, but the area around the worksite had been contained. It was a Sunday, so the small temporary office consisting of a single wide trailer was empty. A wooden shingle with HPP Logging painted across it hung over the door with the name of the deceased in small black letters beneath it.
“Did Maggie's friend at the police station explain how a tornado touched down in this area and left this tin box untouched?” Caleb studied the structure and then let his gaze go to the trees in the distance. “I could probably huff and puff and blow this thing over.”
Dean shook his head. “Darcy is in dispatch, but she claims tornadoes can land on a dime and then bounce right back up in the sky. Said they've been known to pluck a single cow from a grazing heard without so much as disturbing the other heifers.”
Sam gave his brother an incredulous look. “Did she hear an investigator say that?”
“No. But Maggie swears that Darcy has watched Twister over fifty times.” Dean shot his brother a grin. “Huge Bill Paxton fan.”
Caleb moved away from the building, heading for the trees. “I'm guessing that's our murder weapon.” He jutted his chin towards a huge pine. “Or else someone left their really poor taste in Christmas decorations up.”
Dean nodded, pointing out a naked area of the tree. Several limbs and branches had been sawed away and it was decorated with bright yellow police tape. “Probably had to cut the poor bastard down from what Maggie said.”
“Check this out.” Sam motioned to a plant off to the side of the tree his brother and Caleb were studying. “Isn't this the plant you were looking at on the internet last night?”
Reaves bent over the specimen in question. He had researched the special bush Joshua had given him the name of, finding more information than he had been expecting. The plant had thick, shiny ever-green leaves and purple blossoms. “Yeah it is. Catawba.”
Sam knelt down, his brow furrowing. “But that's strange. I read over your notes and I thought you said that this plant only grows in elevations of at least 3500 feet.” He glanced at Dean. “Which would qualify Josh's 'high' criteria.”
“I did, and we're not at that elevation,” Caleb looked around for other signs of the plant.
“It's also unusual for there just to be one.” Sam fingered one of the purple petals. “And this isn't late June either, which is the only time Catawba blooms.”
“We get it, Mr. Green Jeans.” Dean frowned at his brother's geeky enthusiasm. “How much you want to bet we find more of this at the scene of the other murders?”
Reaves stood, wiping his hands on his worn jeans. “We're not too far from the ridge where that rock slide took place.” He glanced at his watch. “We could make it up there and back before lunch. Maybe Josh will answer his damn phone by then.”
They were sweating from the hike and the unusually warm spring temperatures by the time they reached the point where the second accident had taken place. It was an area of narrow trail leading to a bluff over-looking the scenic valley below. Despite being far from the peak of the mountain, the area probably came close to meeting the 3500 feet mark.
Caleb and Sam looked up at the rocky slope above them as Dean scoured the ground around them. “I'm not seeing any of our killer plants, but the police report said the guy had been to the overlook and was hiking back down.”
“Can't be much further.” Sam suggested. “The elemental could have followed him from there.”
They had only gone another fourth of a mile when the trail opened up to a field with scattered trees and shrubs. Amongst the other greenery was a peppering of dark green plants with vivid purple blossoms.
“Bingo.” Reaves moved towards an outcropping of trees where several of the Catawba bushes were clustered together. “Looks like we are definitely dealing with sylph, or some freaky plant phenomena that Al Gore would just love to write about in his next book.”
“So we've nailed down a baddy.” Dean bent down to get a closer look at the plants. “What's our next move?”
Caleb shook his head. “Uh…I really think we need to learn more about…”
Dean glanced up just as Reaves winced. “Caleb?” The younger hunter stood, watching his friend. “You alright?”
“Yeah.“ Reaves grimaced again. “You hear that?”
“Hear what?” Dean asked as a slight breeze brushed across his skin, sending a chill racing down his spine.
Reaves frowned, tilting his head. “That damn whistling noise.”
“I don't…” Dean's words trailed off as he caught sight of his brother. Sam was walking away from them, moving towards the ledge in the distance. “Sam?”
Caleb turned, his gaze following the younger hunter's line of sight. “What's he doing?”
“Sam!” Dean yelled, and the soft breeze grew stronger, quickly picking up intensity.
“Shit.” Caleb growled, one hand still held to his head. The whistling was now a low keening, not unlike the sensation of being read by another psychic. “The damn elemental is here.”
“What?” Dean raised his shotgun. “Now?”
Reaves jutted his head towards the youngest Winchester, as he turned to go after the boy. “Damn thing's messing with Sammy.”
“What?” Dean started after him.
“I can't reach him,” Caleb growled. “The bastard is blocking me.”
“Do something.”
Reaves gave him an exasperated look. He was focusing on the odd presence he could sense around them, but was having no luck in drawing its attention. “I'm trying.”
Dean, never one to sit on the sidelines, especially when his brother was knee-deep in the game, started towards Sam. He had taken a single step when a strong gust of wind slammed into him with all the force of a charging linebacker, propelling him back towards the trees where he landed against with a thud. The shotgun flew from his grip, skittering across the ground.
“Deuce!”
Caleb looked from Dean's sprawled form to Sam, who was continuing to move towards the cliff as if he were sleepwalking. “Shit!” He wasn't exactly picking up on the elemental, but his gut was telling him Sam's intentions were deadly. The thing seemed to be ignoring him for the moment, possibly because of the psychic connection.
Whatever the reason, Reaves took advantage of it. He reached out to the youngest Winchester telepathically as he ran. A loud roaring filled his own mind. He wasn't undaunted as he tried to mentally shield Sam from whatever the hell was happening and physically reach him in time.
“Sammy!” Dean was yelling, moving as quickly as he could to regain his footing. But the force of the wind kept him pinned to the ground as if he were buried under a mound of invisible football players.
Sam continued to ignore Caleb's calls, his steps increasing in speed. He was quickly moving towards the edge.
Reaves added a burst of speed and caught him mid-stride, sending them both to the ground. The psychic prayed he didn't propel their bodies over.
They hit the dirt hard in a tangle of limbs and he felt Sam's breath rush out in a painful gasp. The elemental must have been stunned as well because it released its mental hold on Sam and the kid jerked beneath Caleb's body. Reaves now easily felt the boy's psychic presence again. “Easy,” he said, rolling away as Sam shoved against him.
“Caleb?”
“It's okay.”
Even as he said the words, the wind picked up around them, gusts plowing into them like the gale force that had assaulted Dean. Okay. So he might have spoken too soon.
Caleb felt his body sliding across the ground and fought for some kind of leverage. He clawed at the dirt and grass with his cast-covered arm as he kept his good hand wrapped around Sam.
“What's…going on?” Sam was still dazed.
Caleb tightened his grip on the younger hunter's wrist as he felt them being pulled closer to the ledge.
“Shit!” Reaves barely managed to lift his head, catching sight of Dean struggling to get to his feet. The elemental must not have been able to focus its energy in two places at once, which was the first bit of good news. “Deuce! A little help here!” He shouted over the roaring.
Dean took a deep breath and made it all the way to standing. The elemental had released him and he could barely make out the wind-tunnel now hovering over Sam and Caleb's prone forms. Not sure if it would do one damn bit of good, but knowing he'd never make it to them in time, he lifted the salt-filled shot gun shooting into the air whirling around them.
Caleb heard the blasts of the shotgun, barely managing to keep his grip on Sam as he helplessly watched the boy's legs go over the ledge. Gravity worked against them, even as the wind died down around him and Sam.
Reaves didn't have time to wonder at the effect of rock salt or to be relieved. More of Sam's lanky body slid over the cliff, soft earth giving way beneath the younger hunter.
Every muscle in Caleb's body protested the strain. His healing ribs and recent sutures flaring red hot beneath the burden of holding Sam's body weight one-armed as he struggled to keep the kid from going the rest of the way over.
“Oh God!” Sam gasped as he felt the emptiness beneath him. For a moment he was falling and then his body jerked, a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder and down his back. “Dean!”
His brother's panicked cry had Dean sliding to his knees beside Caleb. He dropped belly-first onto the ground, his own hands merging with Caleb's to hold Sam. “We've got you.”
Together they pulled Sam over the lip of the cliff. As soon as the younger hunter was on a safe perch, Reaves let him go and rolled onto his back with a groan. “Sonuvabitch!” He hissed, wrapping his scraped and bleeding arm over his midsection. “No more fucking burgers for you, Sam.”
“Sammy?” Dean kept his hands wrapped around his brother's wrist, pulling him a safer distance away from the ledge. “You okay?”
“What the hell happened?” Sam blinked, resting his head on the ground, panting from the rush of adrenaline.
“The elemental showed up.” Dean moved one of his hands to Sam's head, where a large gash was bleeding freely. His brother must have hit it on a rock when Reaves tackled him. “It decided to play with the with the psychic wonder.”
Sam blinked up at him. “I could hear it.”
“Hey?” Dean ran a hand over his brother's hair, not liking the dazed look or the amount of blood running down Sam's neck to soak his shirt. “You with us?”
Sam winced at his brother's sharp tone. “Yeah. Now.”
Dean moved his gaze to Caleb, who was matching Sam in the pale pallor and heavy breathing. “How about you, Damien?”
Reaves lifted his hand from his shirt, flashing the smear of red across his palm. “Oh, I'm good. Nothing some of your fancy stitches won't cure.”
“Fuck!” Dean swore tugging his brother to a sitting position and then steadying him as Sam swayed slightly. “I can't take you two anywhere.”
“It kept calling to me.” Sam tried to explain as if he thought his brother was really angry at him and Caleb. “It kept telling me to take just one more step.”
Dean sighed, pulling him the rest of the way to his feet. “Damn, Sammy. How many times have I told you just because your friends jump off a bridge…”
The youngest Winchester glared at his brother, wiping the blood from his face. “I couldn't stop, Dean.”
“First rule of being a psychic. Never trust the voices in your head, runt.” Caleb grunted as he sat up, holding his re-injured side.
Dean rolled his eyes and held out a hand to Caleb. “Like you've got room to talk.”
Reaves accepted the help up. “Injured here.”
“Pissed here.” Dean let him go, with a shake of his head. Mackland had asked the Winchesters to watch over Caleb during his convalesce, not make it worse.
“Knightly duty. It's in the contract. I've got to watch over you.” Reaves let his hand remain on his side. He would definitely need the stronger pain medication.
“Still…” Dean placed a supporting arm on Caleb's shoulder. "How the hell am I supposed to get you two back to the car?"
"Slowly, very slowly," Reaves took a few tentative steps.
"With lots of breaks," Sam suggested as he wiped more blood away.