Road Closed Ahead - Chapter Six
Time for a showdown...
Chapter Six
Sam pulled the stolen Datsun to a halt just in time to see his brother being hauled out the back door of the library by the horseman. He had Dean by the collar of his leather coat and was dragging him behind toward his horse which was stamping in the chilly night air, as if impatient for his master to return.
Sam slammed his hand against the steering wheel and immediately regretted it. Even that slight amount of jarring set off a fresh set of fireworks that was far too close to unconsciousness for comfort.
Sam watched while the horseman dragged Dean up to the horse and unceremoniously hauled him up, throwing him over the horse's back like a sack of potatoes. The horseman then mounted the horse, but became still, almost statue-like, with Dean's body lying completely lifeless behind him. For several moments there was no movement at all, and Sam was clueless as to why until finally he saw the rear door of the library open again and an elderly woman appear. She turned and locked the door before walking straight to the horseman's side. The woman looked up and said something to the headless man who immediately tugged on the horse's reins and turned it toward the edge of town, then master and horse disappeared completely in a flash.
Sam kept his eyes glued to the woman, who he knew must be the witch causing all the trouble. Unlike her minion, she did not simply disappear. She walked toward a brown Buick parked beside the library, got in, and sedately drove away. Sam nearly sobbed in relief. He just couldn't process well enough right now to have figured anything out. Thankfully, his brother might be gone, but he had a trail to follow at least.
Sam followed at what he hoped was a very careful distance, but his head was so messed up he just couldn't be sure. His side was on fire and he would be lucky not to hit a parked car or a telephone pole before the night was over.
The witch headed out of town straight for the cemetery where the horseman liked to hang out, but to Sam's surprise, she continued past it, stopping at the first house beyond it. Sam slowed further, keeping his distance, although he could see the horseman already waiting behind the house for the witch to arrive.
Sam parked the car in the cemetery, struggled out of the little compact and walked as quickly as he could toward the house, moving from tree to tree to stay hidden as well as to have a crutch to keep him standing. As he moved he heard rather than saw his brother falling from the back of the horse to the ground with a thump that audibly drove the air out of him. By the time Sam was close enough, he saw the horseman, who had dismounted, grab Dean by one of his ankles and begin dragging him toward the house.
The witch walked in front of them, but instead of going to the door leading up into the house, she stopped at a set of large exterior wooden doors just above ground level that opened flat to reveal steps leading down into a basement or root cellar. The woman went in first, quickly disappearing, and the horseman followed her. Dean was dragged by the ankle and Sam winced as Dean's head audibly smacked into the steps over and over as the horseman descended the stairs.
Sam crept closer and heard his brother groan in misery. He dared a peek over the edge of the doorway, momentarily dizzied by the odd position and the pressure it put on his side. He was just in time to see Dean's head disappear as he was dragged away from the bottom of the stairs.
Sam straightened, wrapping an arm around his side. He honestly didn't know if he could do this. He was a mess and whatever spell the witch had used to bind the horseman's spirit made him both corporeal and invulnerable to the normal methods. If the rumor in the old hunter's journal was right, there had been a body in the casket, just no head. Sam had to find the head and he had to do it before he passed out or Dean died.
Sam took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow and gingerly set his foot on the top step. To his relief it was stone, so there wouldn't be any creaking boards to give him away. It was a good thing since Sam doubted he was steady enough to get down the stairs with any sort of care. He held on tightly to the wooden banister and slowly descended the steps. He could hear movement and the witch muttering to herself. He reached the bottom and peered around the wall to see Dean being tossed onto a table in the center of the room by the headless man.
Now that they were in a lighted room, the sight was even more ghastly. The blood and torn muscles and tendons in the man's neck were all plainly visible with a bit of bone protruding as well, all appearing fresh as if the wound had been inflicted only minutes ago rather than hundreds of years.
The horseman backed away and the woman stepped up to the table. Sam watched as she put one hand on Dean's brow. The other, she eased beneath his shirt and rested it over his heart. It was as if she had completed an electrical circuit. Dean's body bowed up off the table and the woman threw her head back, her own body arched in either agony or ecstasy. Sam wasn't sure.
"Yes, yes," she almost moaned, which Sam guessed answered that question.
She pulled her hand out from underneath Dean's shirt and he immediately sank back to the table. He rolled onto his side, groaning in pain with his arms wrapped around his chest, halfway between conscious and unconscious.
The witch stepped back, looking down at Dean. "So young," she said, "so much passion, such fire. Mr. Maples has kept me from aging, but you..." She brushed a hand through his hair almost lovingly. "Such a man could turn back the clock."
Sam looked around the room desperately. The witch wasn't the problem. Well... not the biggest problem. She was human, just with a few bells and whistles. The problem was the horseman. Sam had to get his brother out of the basement past a homicidal spirit who didn't care about salt. Sam needed to find what was holding the horseman here or they were up a creek. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to think past a piercing headache. If he were a witch, where would he put a cursed head?
"There's no need to hide, Sam."
Sam's eyes popped open and his breathing suddenly seemed very loud. Bracing himself, he stepped out from behind the wall he'd been using for cover.
Everyone, Sam, Witch, Horseman, remained absolutely still for several seconds, all sizing the others up. Well, maybe not the horseman. It was difficult to tell without a head and all.
The witch stepped closer to him and away from Dean which was good, sort of. She tilted her head to one side, studying him, her brow furrowed, then quickly took a step back. If Sam didn't know better, he would say she was almost afraid.
"Let my brother go," Sam ordered.
"No, I don't think so." She moved back to the table and rested her hand on Dean's hip. She closed her eyes again and a shiver of obvious pleasure ran through her, making Sam want to hurl.
"If you don't let him go, I'll-"
"Tut tut," she admonished. "Anger and revenge are such nasty things. They will make you old before your time." She watched him warily. "Your entire being is pulsing with your need for vengeance. It is amazing really that you are still functioning."
Sam had to clear his throat of the sudden constriction there. He'd thought the same thing often enough. "It's easy to function when that's the only reason you get up in the morning."
During the whole exchange, Sam was scanning the room for any sign of the horseman's head. The entire space was covered in shelves from floor to ceiling with jars and baskets of every shape and size filling them. Some were very large, but nothing looked like a head, human anyway.
"A pity I can't just kill you," the witch said. "That rage is nothing I want near me, but unfortunately, it appears you boys are a matched pair. Your brother won't be any good to me without you." She sighed. "I will just have to find some place to keep you."
"What does that-"
"Mr. Maples, tie him up and put him in the spare room until I can think of something else."
Immediately, the horseman, who had been standing as still as a statue, started forward. Sam didn't wait for him to get any closer. He turned and ran. There was another room on the other side of the staircase that looked to be the twin of the one he'd just been in. It, too, had floor to ceiling shelves containing every sort of plant and animal that would fit on a shelf. Sam didn't have time to study them, however. He ran through another doorway, nearly braining himself on the header that wasn't even as high as his shoulders. He turned just in time to see the horseman come through it as well, not even having to bend, so Sam guessed there were a few benefits to being headless.
Sam faced forward again to run and was struck by a sudden wave of dizziness. Almost before he realized it was happening, he'd fallen hard enough to daze himself further and in those seconds, he saw it.
The horseman grabbed him by an ankle and began dragging him back toward the staircase leading up into the yard. The head was in a jar very low on a shelf in the last room he'd been in. It was packed with who knew what kind of herbs and other things to keep the spell active. As he was pulled past it, Sam threw out his other leg, using it to brace himself from being pulled through the doorway.
Sam flung out a hand that seemed almost numb it was so disconnected from the rest of him. He fumbled, desperate to grasp the jar. He pushed with the leg braced against the doorpost and it was enough to allow him to wrap his arm around the jar.
The horseman dropped his other ankle and stormed back through the doorway. Sam pulled the jar to him just as the horseman raised his foot and brought it down mercilessly on Sam's already injured side. Sam screamed. There was no other word for it. Fire that had been at low ebb roared back to life, spreading through his entire body. He was going to black out. He could feel it already stealing over him.
With his last bit of strength, Sam hefted the jar and threw it against the stone wall. His vision was already gone, but he heard the ancient glass shatter, felt something that smelled rank wash over his trouser leg and dampen his jeans, then something heavier settle against his leg. Sam had only a moment to realize it was the horseman's head before the pressure was gone.
Sam heard the horseman leave the room, the sound echoing around the stone walls as if across a great distance. He heard a commotion in the next room.
The witch screamed, but the sound was abruptly cut off. A wave of energy burst across Sam's skin and it was more than his already overloaded body could bear. He had one last second to pray that his brother was safe and then Sam was out.
Wrap up to come...
Chapter Seven