Legacy (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {3}

7. Operation: Leave the Bunker

7. Operation: Leave the Bunker

It's way too quiet, way too dark. Call it what you want: suspicion, paranoia, or just good ole Winchester intuition. The air doesn't feel right. We're way too safe.

We might've fallen into a trap, as we're both trudging along in the dark woods. All we have are our flashlights and our phones. In the far distance, running water can be heard.

"You'd think after all we've seen and gone through, we'd be smarter than this," I tell Sam as my light roams on the dark ground. "I mean, our lives are one endless horror movie."

"That's one way to put it," he mutters.

"You know, ever since I joined the bandwagon, I think Dean's gotten himself into more trouble than you have."

"It used to be the other way around."

"Oh, I believe it." I cringe at a hooting owl. "I know this'll be the dumbest question on the planet, but, do you miss it, Sam?"

"Miss what?"

"Normalcy."

"Not as much as I used to. You?"

I smile grimly. "Not as much as I used to. If we're on the same page, I think we've both come to accept that our 'normal' isn't everyone else's definition."

"Why do you ask?"

I shrug. "I'm not all for silence in the woods. It just sets us up for something bad to happen."

"As if talking out in the open doesn't?"

I wrinkle my nose. A new scent makes me stop. I can't place a name to it, I've rarely smelled such a scent.

Sam notices I've stopped. "What is it?"

"You don't smell that?" I ask, looking around.

I hear Sam take a few sniffs of his own. "I don't think we're alone."

"Are we ever? Wait." I see a growing light coming for us.

I almost think it's a comet heading our way—it's possible for us Winchesters. But the bright light is spreading, rapidly I might add, widening its length. It isn't until it swallows up trees that I realize what's coming our way.

Fire. A forest fire is starting.

It's coming for us.

I feel the panic ice me inside. It's the one thing I've hated most in the world. Now it's coming for me.

I drop the flashlight into the grass, my mouth drops along with it.

"Run, Jo!" Sam barks at me.

I can't; I'm stuck with fear. The fire is glowing, it's bellowing a challenge, daring me to run from it. I feel my body begin to tremble.

I can slay any creatures supernatural and not be afraid to look the most disgusting or grotesque-looking beast in the eye. But this—this natural disaster that is produced by Mother Nature—is what has me stuck in fear.

Something tells me that Mother Nature didn't conjure up this fire.

The fire tongues are galloping to me now. I can feel the heat, like it's starting to burn me from inside.