Dean reeled like he was the one that'd been shot, but he wasn't, no pain and no blood anywhere, but someone had been, because John Winchester didn't miss. Turning on his heel, he wrenched his sleeve from Britta's death grip and caught Adelle just as she went down, slinging her into his arms and up and running again in the space of only two ragged breaths.

"Over here!" he shouted, because while the break hadn't been good for Adelle, it'd been good for something, giving Dean just enough time to see a cropping of rocks that weren't quite a cave near the trees, but near enough. If John was hunting them, he wouldn't stop, but he wouldn't rush into dark, protected ground without a plan, either. "Run in here!"