Plants Vs. Zombies
Title: Plants vs. Zombies
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: Zombies on one side, carnivorous plants on the other and the Winchester brothers caught in the middle…as usual. Post 1x17 "Hell House"
Author's note: Gosh. Guess what I've been geeking with on my laptop while the internet/cable/phones are out? Lol Just had this sudden image pop into my head and finished "What evil lurks" as well so…here you go. XD For what it's worth. Ha!
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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"This is crap, Sam." Dean groused as they cut their way through dense underbrush.
Sam chuckled. "You're just pissed we have to slog through an overgrown forest."
"Who puts a graveyard way the hell out here?" Dean sliced his machete through another swath of overgrown weeds, trying to work out his temper on them.
"It's two hundred years old." Sam rolled his eyes. "It wasn't the middle of nowhere back then. There was a whole village here."
"Well unless you gotta time machine under your skirt, Sam, this is the middle of friggin nowhere." Dean tossed back. "Who the hell are zombies supposed to eat out here anyway?"
"Members of the local Cemetery Restoration Society." Sam replied dryly. Three of them had come out to clean up the graveyard and only one had come back with a wild story about the dead rising and eating his friends.
"Could be ghouls." Dean hacked apart a vine hanging over his head. "Nobody sees a dead person walking and thinks 'Ghoul'."
"Which is why we brought the flame thrower." Sam hefted the bag on his shoulder with the weight of the flame thrower. He cut through a dense tangle of thorn bushes and squeezed past them, feeling them snag on his leg. "Ow. Dammit." He reached down to pluck off the branch that had affixed itself to his thigh, tugging the small barbs out of the skin beneath. He looked up and smiled. "Found it."
"You know, if three people came through here not a week ago, where the hell's the path they cut to get in?" Dean followed Sam, careful to avoid the thorns and took in his first sight of the cemetery. It was heavily overgrown; most of the headstones green beneath layers of flowering vine. Mausoleums rose up beyond them sporting crowns of Morning Glories.
"Must have come in the other way." Sam shrugged and led the way in. They passed quietly among the markers, eyes alert for any movement. He rubbed at his thigh where the thorns had pierced and grimaced, feeling blood oozing down his leg under his jeans. "Stay away from the thorns."
"Well no shit, Sherlock." Dean snorted and moved wide around a thorn bush as he followed. "We're making enough noise. Where are they? Here, Zombies!"
"And now you're insulting the Ghouls." Sam smirked. He looked down as they approached a mausoleum and frowned. Beneath a jumble of vine and thorns was what looked like a jacket. "Dean." He bent and carefully tugged the vines aside to reveal the contorted face of a dead man. His neck had been torn out, a chunk was missing from the side of his head and one arm below the elbow was missing.
"Yikes." Dean grimaced. "Ok. Definitely Zombies. Ghouls don't leave left-overs like that."
A rustle behind them drew both men's attention. Dean turned and raised his machete as the first Zombie lumbered around a tall headstone. "Yech." He gave the machete a practice swing. One eyeball dangled out of its socket to hang along its bony cheek, its clothes were ragged and rent with holes as it staggered closer to him.
Sam rose as Dean went to meet the walking dead and cursed as the leg of his jeans was snagged by the thorns. "Dammit!" He bent to pull his leg free and gasped as a tendril of vine lashed out to wrap around his wrist. "Uh…Dean?"
"Little busy here, Sam!" Dean called back as he swung his machete. It cut cleanly through the Zombie's neck. The head rolled off into the tall grass as the body crumpled brokenly to the ground and twitched. Another appeared behind it and the wind carried the smell to Dean, making him wrinkle his nose in disgust. "Whoa, stinky."
"Dean!" Sam shouted in earnest. The thorns had wrapped around his ankle, holding him fast as he pulled at the vine and tried to free his arm. They bit into his ankle and made him shout again in pain. He looked up in surprise to see a new Zombie stumble out of the shadow of the mausoleum. "Aw come on!" Sam swung his machete, slicing the vine that held his wrist and rose up in time to take off the arm of the dead man reaching for him. He tried to move back but his ankle was still held fast. The Zombie stepped into the mass of vines and thorns and Sam lurched back in fear as the entire mass gave a great shudder, constricting in on itself.
The Zombie growled in defiance as vines climbed its legs and Sam was pulled from his feet as the thorns snaked up his calf and tugged. The dead man fell as well, rolling across the pile of vines to land beside Sam. It seemed oblivious to what was happening, intent only on reaching the live meat inches away.
"No way." Sam rolled and speared his machete through its head, pinning it to the ground. "Any time Dean!" He knocked away the Zombie's remaining arm as it reached for him and swallowed his cry as the thorns bit more deeply into his legs. He fumbled in his pocket for his knife and craned his head to find his brother.
Dean body-checked the second Zombie and threw him backward into a headstone that crumbled with the impact. He turned to see what the fuss was about and his eyes widened in surprise to find him on the ground, half buried in a moving mass of vines with a flailing Zombie beside him, its head nailed into the earth.
"How in hell you'd manage that?" Dean asked. He swung back as the other zombie came for him again and split its head from its shoulders, then one of its arms. It continued to come for him so he shrugged and hacked off a leg as well, watching it fall sideways with a smile.
"Dean! Look up!" Sam shouted a warning and saw Dean glance up a second too late as a loop of vine came down out of the tree and wrapped around his neck.
Dean grunted as the vine closed around his neck and lifted him from his feet, stealing the air he needed.
"Dean!" Sam was frantic now. He gave up trying to reach his knife and worked at freeing the duffel from his shoulder instead. He yelled in pain as another loop of thorny vines snaked up to his waist and dug in. The Zombie beside him was almost completely encased in the things even as it tore at them in an effort to free itself.
"Come on." Sam growled and finally got the bag free. He shoved his hand inside, grinning when he found the mini flame thrower and dragged it out into the fading light.
Dean kicked as he was tugged higher. He looked up and would have gasped if he could have breathed; above him waited a seething mass of thorned vines. He realized he was still holding his machete and swung it over his head. It took him two tries but he finally severed the vine holding him and dropped to the ground, gasping for air. "Son of a bitch." He groaned and rolled away from the tree. "Sammy?" Dean turned in time to watch as his brother aimed their flame thrower above his own legs and let loose. Flames erupted from the nozzle and shot into the vines and thorns covering his legs. They burst into flames in a rush, sparking and cracking as they seethed and moved as if in response to pain.
"Crap!" Dean lunged for him and slid his hands under Sam's shoulders. He pulled and then cussed again when something seemed to be holding Sam in place. For his part, Sam cried out in pain as Dean tried to drag him clear; the thorns had not released their hold yet.
"Pull harder!" Sam ordered and tried to kick himself free as Dean gave a mighty tug. The heat from the flames was licking at his face as he finally came free in a rush.
Dean tumbled back with Sam practically in his lap as a flaming string of vine whipped out, narrowly missing both their heads. The flames were spreading through the graveyard quickly and he saw two more Zombies engulfed in fire and vine, growling screams as they burned. "We're outta here." He pushed Sam forward and got to his feet then tugged him up with him.
Sam turned and pushed Dean out of the way. He brought the flame thrower up and covered the Zombie that had been right behind him in fire. It panicked and stumbled away batting at itself, setting more of the graveyard alight as it went. He grinned at Dean.
"Dude, I'm supposed to be the one who likes setting crap on fire." Dean shook his head, amused and grabbed Sam's arm to drag him away from the cemetery. Thorns and vines occasionally struck out at them and Dean sliced them all neatly with his machete as they ran. Sam charred two more Zombies as they escaped the now roaring start of a forest fire.
"Man eating vines." Sam gasped, limping along beside Dean as he retraced their steps through the forest.
"And flesh eating Zombies." Dean looked over his shoulder and snorted. "Forest Rangers are gonna be pissed at you, pyro-boy."
Sam shuddered. "Beat hell out of being swallowed up by those damn vines."
"Need to stop?" Dean asked, concerned as Sam weighed heavily on his arm but his brother shook his head.
"Let's get out of here before it catches up to us." Sam worked to take more of his own weight as they ran. His legs and waist were screaming pain from the bite of the thorns. Dean didn't argue and dragged him along at a fast run. Sam had made the right choice as the fire had come perilously close by the time they emerged from the forest and found the Impala right where they'd left her. Sam turned to look back as Dean opened the door for him and groaned. "Holy crap."
Dean smirked and helped him in. "I'm telling Dad."
Sam snorted a laugh as the door shut and watched the great billows of smoke pouring up from the now burning forest. He felt a twinge of sorrow for all the trees that were soon to burn but pushed it aside. He hadn't had any other choice.
Sam squirmed all the way back to the motel and chuckled at the disgusted look on Dean's face when he saw the blood smears being left on the seat.
"You're cleaning that." Dean told him as Sam climbed awkwardly out of the car and headed for their room. He got out and followed Sam in, smirked as he watched him lower himself to his bed slowly and groan. "How bad is it?"
Sam shook his head. "Don't think any of it's that bad." He set propriety aside and unbuckled his belt, easing his jeans down over his legs and heard Dean's sympathetic hiss at the sight of all the bleeding puncture marks.
"Crap." Dean went to their bag and sifted through it until he came up with the first aid kit. He pulled out a tube of antibiotic cream and tossed it to him. "Dude, you look like a pincushion."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Feel like one." He stood and headed slowly for the bathroom, bare bloody legs inching across the carpeting. He glanced over when Dean's phone rang and waited while he dug it out. He watched Dean look at the screen, saw his brows raise and then a slow laugh start. "What is it?"
Dean put his phone away and chuckled. "Message from Dad." He ducked his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "He says 'no more flamethrowers for Sammy.'"
"Oh man." Sam slapped a hand over his face. "How does he even know?"
Dean slapped him on the shoulder on his way past to get a beer out of the little fridge. "Little brother, Dad always knows when we screw up."
"Awesome." Sam grumbled and went into the bathroom. "When we find him again I'm telling him you gave it to me." He closed the door and Dean spluttered beer out of his nose.
"You wouldn't!" Dean called to the closed door and only heard laughter in reply. "Bitch."
The door cracked open long enough for Sam to call him a 'Jerk' and then slapped shut, the lock snicking into place before Dean could reach it.
"Gotta come out sometime, Sammy." Dean said through the door and then sat back down with his beer. He kicked his feet up on the table and considered the many ways he could torment his little brother for threatening to rat him out and smiled happily, wondering if he'd fall for itching powder in his shorts again. "Cause that's never gonna get old." Dean chuckled and raised his beer to the bathroom door in silent toast.
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The End.