One second, Sam was contemplating humouring the...whatever it was, and seeing where that got him, and the next, the dirt was shifting under his feet and there were freaking corpses starting to claw their way up, fog rolling in through the trees.
His first thought was, shit, and his second thought was, Dean; the two combined sent him spinning on his heel. His entire conversation with Bob was dropped without a second thought. Taking a split second to find a makeshift weapon, he snatched a heavy branch off the ground and booked it across the park, ignoring the sharp spike of pain through his knee. With the zombies (zombies, seriously) crawling out of the dirt, his best bet was to get off the grass and onto concrete. There were still the nurses--what was left of them, anyway, grotesque as they were--but.
God, they were so screwed. Zombies were nothing new; he even knew exactly how to kill one, which was the problem here. Silver stake, nailing them down to their coffin. One or two, that was manageable, if difficult. A whole goddamn town
( ... )
He eased himself to the back window of Dean's bus, keeping an eye out for anything else that might come his way. As much as glancing through the window was a risk, there wasn't any other way to take stock of the situation. He needed to see what was going on, needed to see that Dean was there and alive. From what he could tell, the creatures being raised weren't too bright. Killing machines more than anything.
Dean was there, all right. Dean was alive. Dean was also...Wait. Was he-?
Sam's initial thought was, Why the hell are you sleeping through a freaking zombie invasion before logic caught up and it hit him exactly why there wasn't any sign of a struggle. Dean was so out of it that he wasn't even attracting any attention. Which for Dean was actually fairly impressive
( ... )
Dean fell against him, nearly taking Sam down with him. Sam grunted, struggling to adjust his grip so that he could at least have some manoeuvrability. Seriously, what were those frigging things? Not that his entire life wasn't one giant horror movie, but the creatures he dealt with usually made some sort of sense, as paradoxical as that sounded. The mutated nurses staggering at the window made him feel like someone had suddenly dropped him into the middle of a video game, but without the option of starting over when you died
( ... )
The three on the bus spun around almost without hesitation, but their movements were still jerky and slow. It gave him the split second he needed to run a line of lighter fluid across the seats and floor, near the back of the bus. He counted four seconds before the first two stepped into that line. The third was a beat behind, but-good enough.
He tossed the burning branch in, hearing more than seeing the flames burst up. He didn't stick around to see his handiwork, dropping down beside where he'd left Dean, and that was when he saw the bus driver. Even in the dimming light, he could see the flesh hanging off, falling off, even, leaving a trail of rotting bits like bread crumbs.
Shit, he should've made sure, he should've-
Screw it. He could kick himself for it later. At the moment, he needed Dean to do more than be a frigging rag doll. Sam hoisted him upright, shaking him, maybe less than gently, but seriously. This called for it. "Dean. Dean. Damn it
( ... )
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His first thought was, shit, and his second thought was, Dean; the two combined sent him spinning on his heel. His entire conversation with Bob was dropped without a second thought. Taking a split second to find a makeshift weapon, he snatched a heavy branch off the ground and booked it across the park, ignoring the sharp spike of pain through his knee. With the zombies (zombies, seriously) crawling out of the dirt, his best bet was to get off the grass and onto concrete. There were still the nurses--what was left of them, anyway, grotesque as they were--but.
God, they were so screwed. Zombies were nothing new; he even knew exactly how to kill one, which was the problem here. Silver stake, nailing them down to their coffin. One or two, that was manageable, if difficult. A whole goddamn town ( ... )
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Dean was there, all right. Dean was alive. Dean was also...Wait. Was he-?
Sam's initial thought was, Why the hell are you sleeping through a freaking zombie invasion before logic caught up and it hit him exactly why there wasn't any sign of a struggle. Dean was so out of it that he wasn't even attracting any attention. Which for Dean was actually fairly impressive ( ... )
Reply
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He tossed the burning branch in, hearing more than seeing the flames burst up. He didn't stick around to see his handiwork, dropping down beside where he'd left Dean, and that was when he saw the bus driver. Even in the dimming light, he could see the flesh hanging off, falling off, even, leaving a trail of rotting bits like bread crumbs.
Shit, he should've made sure, he should've-
Screw it. He could kick himself for it later. At the moment, he needed Dean to do more than be a frigging rag doll. Sam hoisted him upright, shaking him, maybe less than gently, but seriously. This called for it. "Dean. Dean. Damn it ( ... )
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