The rumble of the engine could be heard before the black ’67 Impala came into view. It was hard to miss, cutting across the quiet countryside with the faint strains of AC/DC following behind. It was definitely enough of an attention-grabber.

Dean Winchester kept time to the music as he drove, his hands tapping out the rhythm of the song against the steering wheel. Beside him, his brother Sam sat going through a handful of newspaper articles, just as he normally did when they traveled. It was actually standard Winchester operating procedure that while Dean drove, Sam researched their next job. This really wasn’t any different from all the other times.

He glanced away from the road as Sam flipped through the pages in his lap, turning down the radio. “Ya know, Sammy, you’ve been poring over those newspaper reports since we left Colorado. Are they really that interesting or did you find something?” He let out a small chuckle as he flashed his cocky grin. “Course knowing you, it’s just light reading.”

“I think I found something. Have you ever heard of a town’s accident rate jumping 200 percent in 3 months?” Sam replied.

Dean’s brow furrowed slightly as he thought. “Not unless they’ve been having a drunken keg party for 3 months.”

Sam sorted through the pages before him, pulling out an article. “About 3 months ago, a man named Phillip Byron died of accidental causes in a town called Oak Ridge, Ohio.”

“So? People die from accidents all the time, Sam,” Dean commented.

“Witnesses say he tripped and fell in front of the uniform delivery truck that crushed his skull,” Sam stated.

Dean cringed as he watched the road ahead. “Not exactly how I would want to go.”

“Since then there have been at least 19 other accident-related deaths, ranging from electrocution to choking. One man was even killed by an animal attack.” Sam looked toward his brother, shrugging. “These can’t be just coincidence.”

Dean’s head cocked slightly as Sam spoke. “Animal attack?”

“Yeah. A local man was attacked by his pet bird. He broke his neck falling downstairs,” Sam answered.

“I guess Polly really wanted that cracker.”

Sam watched the road for a moment before he looked toward Dean. “There’s something else. A few of these accidents were covered by the local newspaper, photographer and all. A couple of the photos showed some strange bystanders in the background.”

“Strange how?”

Sam’s fingers leafed through the articles as he looked for the photos. “Triplet strange.”

A smile crossed Dean’s face as the road stretched out before them. “Triplets aren’t all bad, Sam. Especially if all three are eager to please.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you say that, Dean,” Sam said flatly.

The look on his face was classic Dean as he shot his brother a grin. “Oh come on, Sammy. Live a little.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. This was another ‘normal’ part of the Winchester routine, one he knew so well that it wasn’t even a surprise anymore. In fact, if Dean didn’t make comments, Sam would think he was sick.

“As I was saying, a couple of the photos showed a strange set of triplets in the background. They looked out of place. One photo showed little girls, one showed old women. Somehow I don’t think the odds of two sets of triplets in the same town are very high.” He pulled out a color photo, examining the background. “Then there’s the whole appearance thing. Identical except for their hair.”

Dean’s eyes shifted toward his brother for a moment. “Their hair?”

Sam nodded. “Each one has a different hair color.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he mulled Sam’s words over. “Maybe shapeshifters.”

Sam didn’t answer as he took a close look at the three girls in the photo. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking at. Not one idea or answer seemed to pop into his head about the three.

***

The town didn’t look like a hotbed of supernatural activity. It didn’t look like a hotbed of anything really. At first glance, it just looked like any other small town.

Main Street was lined with a number of storefronts that looked more Mayberry than Amityville Horror; the older buildings with the newer businesses added even more to the Mayberry feel. The courthouse at the center of town appeared to be the tallest of them all with its old clock tower dwarfing the smaller two-story shops nearby. The square across from the courthouse doubled as a small park, probably the small community’s attempt decades ago to bring new life into the town center. Further out from the heart of town was where the newer buildings got a foothold, close enough to the hub not to overshadow the older buildings while still getting traffic. The houses that could be seen on the side streets weren’t big or flashy affairs, just single or two-story homes that fit the atmosphere of the place.

“So this is where they’re all dying off?” Dean muttered as he looked out the windshield.

The pair had stopped at the town’s small gas station after making a quick pass through downtown. From their spot at the pumps, they could still see a small bit of the area they had driven past in their cursory reconnaissance, getting a glimpse of some of the daily routine.

Sam nodded. “This is it.”

Motioning down the street, Dean glanced over at his brother. “How many people are we talking here? I mean, I know it’s enough to get this place a stoplight 'cause, oh look, there it is, but how many people in this place, Sam?”

“According to the last census records they were just shy of fifteen hundred people.” He gave a small shrug, his eyes scanning the scenery. “Judging from the shops we passed, they’re probably closer to nineteen now.”

Dean gave a small nod as he sat back. “So they have a small police force. A crime wave here is probably Aunt Bea jay-walking.”

Sam watched a truck pass by as Dean pulled out his wallet. “Shouldn’t be hard dealing with the local cops. And with the town’s size, might make finding whatever these things are easier.”

“Nineteen hundred people and three things that keep killing them off. Yeah, Sammy, this is gonna be easy.” Dean sighed as he opened the door and stepped out, bending slightly to look back at his brother. “See if you can find us a motel while I fill the tank.”

Sam took one last look down the street, pulling out his cell phone and a notepad. “Heard that one before.”

His eyes moved from the street as a car drove past, unaware of the pair of blue eyes that watched him.

Chapter 3