Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

24| Cain's Back

"The Zodiac?"

"Seven victims."

"Dahmer?"

"Seventeen."

"That's some freaky stuff, man. It's a whole new side of you."

"It's called true crime, Dean," Sam replied. "It's a hobby."

I snickered in the back seat of the Impala as Dean shook his head.

"No. Bass fishing, needlepoint... that's a hobby, okay? Collecting serial killer stats... that's... that's an illness."

We pulled into the entrance of the prison.

"Get your badges."

"Yeah."

We pulled up beside the intercom on the prison gate and Dean rolled down his window.

"Hello, gentlemen, ma'am. State the nature of your visit."

"From the office of the Inspector General," Dean said. "Got an appointment with the warden."

"Thank you. Parking is to the left. Look for visitor parking only."

"Alright, so what are the stats on this, uh, vanishing act here?" Dean asked as we pulled in, referencing why we were here.

"Tommy Tolliver was convicted of six murders back in '09, but those are just the ones that stuck. According to the news, he escaped from a locked cell on death row, this inexplicable, Houdini-esque escape."

"So, what are we thinking? Some sort of mass-murdering magician?" I asked.

"Yeah, or a teleporting demon or a who knows what that can walk through Supermax walls. Could be in our wheelhouse."

"Yeah, in your wheelhouse," Dean snorted. "'Hobby'."

⁘

After checking Tommy's cell on death row, the warden took us in to the surveillance room to watch the tape of his escape.

"That's right before Tolliver vanished," the warden nodded at the monitor.

The three on the bottom went dark before turning back on.

"Was that a brownout?" Sam asked.

"That was my thought, but then..."

My eyes widened as Cain walked into the cellblock.

"Is it one of the guards?" Dean asked.

"Nope. But I don't know who he is, how he got in, or how he and Tolliver got out."

"Can you zoom in on that?" I requested.

"Can and have," the warden replied. "Too dark to make out much of anything."

"Do it," I told him, leaning closer to the monitor as he did as I said. "Freeze it. Blow it up."

I could feel Sam and Dean's eyes on me as I put a hand over the Mark.

⁘

"I'm sorry I couldn't bring better news, Eleanor," Cass said.

We were back at the Bunker. Cass had found a mass grave sight in Illinois of people that Cain was killing off, including our missing death row convict. Supposedly, they were all direct descendants of Cain.

"It's not your fault, Cass," I assured him.

"Thank you," Sam hung up his phone, sitting down in front of his laptop. "Alright, the sheriff gave me a few more names, some preliminary I.D.'s on the bodies."