Free Supernatural 10 - Rite of Passage by John Passarella

slips on a wet tile floor and cracks his head open. And a retired woman dies in a house fire.”
    “Cause of the fire?”
    “Fire marshal ruled it accidental,” McClary said. “Lint trap fire, believe it or not.”
    Bobby shook his head in a show of disbelief.
    “That’s not the weirdest part of the day,” McClary said. “About an hour later …”
    While Sam tested his patience on a dial-up internet connection, browsing various local news websites, and Roy Dempsey pan-fried a juicy steak for his solo dinner, Dean switched on the bulky twenty-seven-inch TV at low volume and caught an early newscast the old-fashioned way. The news anchor introduced footage of a house fire. In Dean’s experience, television newscasts loved showing film of big fires.
    “Cable?” he called to Roy.
    “Basic,” Roy said, flipping his steak over to cook the other side. “And they made me rent some damn digital converter for that.”
    “So, you’ve got, what, twelve channels?”
    “Count your blessings,” Roy said as he removed a pairof baked potatoes from the oven. “I only got four channels with the rooftop antenna.”
    “That steak sure smells good,” Dean said, dropping a last ditch hint.
    “Just the one,” Roy reminded him.
    Frowning suddenly, Dean asked, “How’s your supply of borax?”
    “For what?” Roy asked, confused. “Steak sauce?”
    “Never mind,” Dean said. “We’ve got several gallon jugs in the trunk.”
    As the only effective weapon they had found against the Leviathan—though it only burnt but didn’t kill them—Dean liked to know he had some of the cleaning agent on hand at all times.
    Roy turned to Sam. “Your brother soft in the head?”
    Sam smiled without looking up from the laptop.
    On the TV, a reporter was interviewing a young woman at an airfield, a red and white Cessna framed in the shot. Still images of three faces popped up on the screen. Dean called to his brother. “Sam, three skydivers just died. All parachute malfunctions, all from the same plane.”
    “Got it,” Sam confirmed. “Just waiting for the page to load.”
    “Three skydivers,” Roy mused as he cut into his steak. “What are the odds? Never mind.” He held both hands up on either side of his head. “Forgot I don’t want to know.”
    Dean walked over to Sam and read the on-screen information he had found over his shoulder. So far, the news site had only posted basic information: the names ofthe pilot and victims, the time of the incident. Not that the Winchesters would need more to discover the truth beneath the facts. Sam had also saved a few other pages, detailing three fatal accidents earlier in the day.
    “No witnesses for those,” Sam said, disappointed. “We could check each scene for clues. On the plus side, there’s the pilot and the roofing accident homeowner.”
    “It’s a start.”
    Dean looked up as Roy left his counter seat, carrying a hunk of steak between thumb and forefinger. Okay, Dean hadn’t begged for scraps, but …
    “Where are you taking that?” he asked as Roy turned down the short hallway that led past the staircase to the backdoor.
    “The cat,” Roy said.
    Dean glanced around the downstairs. Had he missed a pet?
    “You have a cat?”
    “Not exactly,” Roy said enigmatically.
    Taking a few steps down the hallway, Dean leaned sideways to peer around Roy. A black cat was sitting on the back lawn a couple of yards from the door. There was something odd about the way light reflected in its eyes. Roy tossed the wedge of meat at its front paws. For a few moments, the cat simply regarded the retired hunter. Then it dipped its head, snared the meat in its teeth, and bolted across the backyard. Roy barked a laugh and closed the door.
    “Stray,” he explained to Dean. “Could be feral, never domesticated. Doesn’t trust a soul.”
    “It lets you feed it.”
    “Kindred spirits. I lost an arm in battle, he lost an eye.”
    Roy rinsed his plate, glass and flatware and put them in