Carry On... Episode 21: The Eve of Destruction Part 2
Here is the second part of episode 21 of Carry On...
Episode 21: The Eve of Destruction
Original airdate: 2010.08.17.
Summary:
Earthquakes, tsunamis, erupting volcanoes…destruction as the world has not yet seen. The apocalypse has come and is knocking on the door and the last seal is the only thing that stands between the fall of mankind and Sam and Dean’s last stand.
Excerpt:
Only slowly, a few sounds filtered through the chaos and all of a sudden Dean realized how silent it was. Besides the screaming of the few hurt and some random calls of people searching for friends and family, there was deadly calm around them. No wind, no birds, not even the sound of traffic. Now it felt like a well-meant irony that this town had already been dead before.
The sun was rising in the east, unnaturally large and blood-red. Like a ball dipped in paint.
All but peaceful.
Just the deadly calm before the real storm.
Written by: annj_g80 and faye_dartmouth
Artist: faye_dartmouth
PART TWO
"Don't move!" a small voice ordered, shaky and a little bit too high-pitched for Dean to actually take it seriously. So Dean didn't even think about not moving. He lowered his outstretched arm and turned around. Slowly and carefully though, but still he moved.
"I said don't move!" the voice repeated and this time there was a distinct hint of panic in it.
"Not moving," Dean countered, putting on a sloppy smile and exchanging a quick glance with his brother, who was standing closer to the boy. Don't hurt him, it's just a kid, Sam said with just the blink of an eye. Because he wasn't more. Just a kid. He couldn't be much older than seventeen. Eighteen tops. And he didn't really look like he knew which side of his rifle was front and back.
"Who are you?" the boy asked and his voice sounded just a little stronger.
"We're friends," Sam answered. "Friends of Ellen. We wanted to..."
"Sam? Dean?" Sam's face lit up in relief as Jo walked around the corner, quickly pointing the muzzle of her rifle towards the ground as she recognized the boys.
"Jo!" Sam all but yelled. All danger of being accidentally shot forgotten, he rushed towards the young blond hunter and hugged her whereas the boy still had his rifle directed pointedly at Dean. Either, he was very slow on the uptake or he really didn't like Dean. From the way his hands shook with adrenaline, probably the former.
"Luke, put the gun down!" Jo bellowed, finally, and Dean threw him a pissed look, making it clear that he didn't like being on this side of a gun. Especially not by some wanna-be hunter still wet behind his ears.
"Sorry," the boy, Luke, murmured and let the rifle sink.
"Dammit, Jo, where did you find this greenhorn?" Dean wanted to know after he too greeted her with a quick hug. "Did you open up a pre-hunter school?"
"You're a jerk, Dean Winchester," she hissed, but there was humor in her voice and a friendly twinkle in her eyes. "But I'm used to that."
"Used to jerks?" Sam asked.
Jo looked at Sam and then, with an evil grin, at Dean. "Used to you being a jerk."
"Ow, that hurt," Dean replied and the peaceful bantering quickly changed into something painful, realistic.
"Ellen okay?" Sam asked as they followed Jo around the house to the back where the small cabins were situated. The last time they had been here was still rather vivid in his memories and just as the memory came up, Dean saw his brother look uncomfortably back to the place where one of the hunters had been gruesomely murdered. It was probably just his imagination but he could have sworn he smelled a whiff of something metallic.
Jo crossed the area with long strides and the greenhorn had problems following. "Mom's fine. We all hid in the bunker after ..." She trailed off. "You know."
"Earthquake?" Sam wanted to know.
"Amongst other things."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked as she leaned down to grab for something hidden under loose earth and grass. Sam quickly assisted her and together they opened a heavy wooden trap door. It was well enough hidden that Dean and Sam never would have found it on their own. Grown over with weeds, it was only recognizable by a large metal ring with which they heaved the slab open. Cool, stale air rushed by as they climbed down a few steps.
"What other things?" Sam asked again when Jo still didn't answer. "And what bunker?"
The young blond hunter shrugged her shoulders. "Got attacked by some creatures. Some, I've never seen before. It was like they had formed a freaking army. Wolves, at least three Black Dogs and half a dozen other creatures that we haven't even got a name for. They killed most of the customers shortly after the earthquake had hit. Mom and I, we got the remaining guests down here. "
"What is here anyway?" Dean, who was walking a few meters behind them, piped up and touched the wall. "Did you expect an atomic war or something?"
The tunnel they were walking in was at least five feet wide but not high enough for Sam to stand upright. There were flickering lights attached to the walls and next to them more sigils and signs than Sam could gather with just one look. The corridor ended with another heavy door which, Sam suspected, was made of solid steel.
"Actually, the bunker was Bobby's idea." Jo smiled and when they reached the door, she knocked against it in a complicated rhythm which made Dean snort with amusement.
"Did you just knock Don't let me be misunderstood against the door as the secret 'open sesame' sign?"
"What? We can hide in a cellar but at least we hide with style." Jo grinned and the door swung open to reveal Ellen. The older woman first looked at her daughter, then recognized Sam and Dean.
"Sam, Dean!" She greeted them enthusiastically but, as an undertone, Sam could hear a relief that made him blush.
"Hey, Ellen," he winked awkwardly, taking a step backwards when she strode forwards to hug him-right before boxing him against the shoulder.
"Ow, what was that for?"
"For not having heard anything from you for ages."
"We did try calling you," Dean tried to defend them.
Ellen just raised her eyebrows. "Let me guess. You tried calling us after the shit hit the fan."
"Well..." Dean begun and his grimace was all Ellen needed. She boxed the older Winchester against his shoulder as well.
"Hey," Dean complained, rubbing the place at his chest. "At least Sam here got a proper hug to go with it."
The room Sam and Dean found themselves in was big, at least 30 square meters. The walls were covered with sigils just like the tunnel outside and the only light came from a few naked light bulbs that were hanging from the ceiling. Sam could see three doors, one of them being the one they had just entered through. As Ellen watched him eye the doors, she explained: "One sleeping room, one for the weapons and the supplies." There was a hint of pride in her voice and Sam had to admit, it was justified.
"Ellen, this is amazing. When... why..."
"Well...," Ellen blushed a little and didn't meet Sam's eyes as she explained, "After your last visit we decided to get a safe place in case of..."
"Us coming for another visit?" Dean interrupted and from his expression Sam could see that it was only half in joke.
Ellen huffed. "It would be too easy to answer with a yes, trust me." She glanced at her daughter who was talking with Luke on the other side of the room. "But I... I needed Jo to be safe somewhere."
"We understand," Sam said, smiling sadly. "So, this place..."
"Is safe. We even built salt lines in the walls. We got it cleaned inside out with a number of cleaning spells and the walls are pure iron."
"Nice." Dean nodded appreciatively. "What about them?" A group of people was sitting huddled together around a small table staring at a tiny radio that rattled and coughed with a painful static.
"A few hunters who were at the Roadhouse. Some more civilians. Some are in the other rooms while some..." She made a pause. "... we couldn't convince to stay. They left."
That was the moment when the radio blared back to life with a loud whine. There was a painful yelp that sounded like a hurt animal and instead of the static they could hear a newscaster.
"... as well as New York along direct fault lines. Military forces are trying to get back some order. Scientists now have affirmed the total number of seven independent earthquakes, three of them above 8 on the Richter scale. And that is in North America alone. The resulting tsunamis obliterated most of the islands in both oceans, taking out portions of the African coastline and Asia. There's still no word on casualties..." The man ranted, his voice void of emotion as if he had told this already a hundred times and every single time it had lost some part of its terror. "According to some messages from Europe and Africa, mass suicides have occurred in sect-like communities and the Vatican has been evacuated after thousands of people stormed..." The static rose and the man who had held the radio shook it, held it higher in the air as if it would get him a better reception. Indeed, it did. "Watch out, people." The statement was followed by a meaningful silence and another burst of static, this time no wriggling or changing location could change that.
-o-
The small group of hunters and civilians was getting along fine if not talking was any sign. The mood in the small bunker was down and it didn't take long for Dean to get nervous. While Sam was animatedly talking with Ellen, Jo was watching him intensely. Her eyebrows formed a tight V and her trigger finger was rapidly tapping against the barrel of her gun, which she was holding across her lap.
"I know how you feel," she sighed and walked over to him, letting herself sink down on a wooden box. When Dean had curiously opened it he had found food cans, water bottles and ammunition, neatly stacked with the ammo on top so if need be, it was easy to reach.
"This is quite a thing you managed here." With a vague gesture and a swift look around he included their surroundings and Jo just shrugged her shoulders.
"It was Mom's idea and Bobby's plans. I learned about it when Mom asked me to choose the interior design." At Dean's appalled grimace she chuckled quietly. "Just kidding. I just came home a few weeks ago. Needed to recuperate after a mean interlude with a Chupacabre in Oakland. Pulling her sleeve above her shoulder he saw a nasty scar, still a little swollen and pink with ongoing healing.
"Ouch!"
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, I came back to get better. Get back together with my Mom, you know?" She made a pause and lowered her head, staring intently at her folded hands. "I'm glad I did. I don't want to be anywhere else right now."
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I know what you mean." He looked at Sam.
"So, you think..." Jo began and Dean could hear that what she was about to say she didn't really wanted to speak out loud. "This is it? The end of the world as we know it?"
Dean couldn't help it. He snickered into his fist, earning a weird glance from Jo and he shook his hands.
"Sorry, it's just... Bob would so like that?"
"Bobby?" Jo asked, confused.
"No, not Bobby. Just Bob. Annoying little dude with the decency of a pimp..." Dean trailed off as something flickered across his face. His eyes narrowed and there were creases on his forehead for just a second. He had put this off long enough. When he spoke, his voice was loud enough that Sam could hear it. "He was in my dream."
That got Sam's attention. His brother stared at him cluelessly despite being in the middle of a talk with Ellen. "What?" he asked from across the room, his conversation with Ellen clearly forgotten.
"Bob, he was in my dream."
"Wha...? You mean, you dreamt about Bob? Should I worry?"
Indignantly, Dean jerked away and made a disgusted face. "Dude! No, I mean, he was in my dream the other night, before... you know... the shit hitteth the fan. As a freaking house guest, or something."
"Bob was in your dream?" Sam checked, his voice clearly indicating his disbelief but at least now his attention was completely at Dean.
"Yeah, he admired the dancer's leg work..." There was a dreamy look on Dean's face but not dreamy enough to hide the confusion. "He said we needed to go... somewhere."
"Who's that Bob guy?" Jo wanted to know, now a little annoyed about the way the boys were talking about someone she had no knowledge about.
"He's... a friend." Dean shook his head. "Just some weird guy who shows up in times and places when he's least expected and even less welcome."
"Okay, so Bob wants us to go somewhere but he forgot to mention where. How convenient." Sam threw his hands into the air and Dean shrugged his shoulders again.
"Well, in his defense, there was an earthquake before we could deepen our talk."
"That's still..." Sam's bitch face was so familiar that Dean immediately felt his agitation begin to subside.
"I guess he'll be back if it was important." Dean said nonchalantly, and leaned his back against the wall. He wanted to believe that was true. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths and tried to get rid of the feeling of the walls closing in on him. "I... gotta go get some fresh air," He finally announced and stood up before he could get an answer.
-o-
They spent the night at the Roadhouse. Or in Dean's case, in its close vicinity. He left the bunker in time to watch the sun vanish behind the horizon. The sky was a deep red like it was a burning ceiling, its intensity so sharp that Dean felt the heat of it on his face even after the sun had long gone. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his hip against the Impala and let his hand wander along its chilling curves and slid into the driver seat, putting his head against the head rest to close his eyes for just a few minutes. He could hear the peaceful sounds from outside. Crickets chirping and some early night birds tweeting. If only he pushed away his dark thoughts far away, he could almost believe that this was just another peaceful night out camping. He had Sam, he had the Impala. Ellen and Jo were alright and the rest... they could work around.
He took a deep breath. The car smelled familiar and intimate enough that it sent goosebumps all over his skin. Leather, stuffy clothes, gunpowder and Sam.
And hamburger.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a diner. Like the car, it felt and looked familiar and it didn't take long for Dean to remember.
"I'm dreaming," he said out loud, just to test his voice and see if someone would answer.
"'course you are."
"I know this diner."
"'course you do."
Bob was standing next to him with his arms across his chest and feet apart, looking like a general observing a battle field. "Sometimes I wonder why you and your brother haven't died of food poisoning yet. This place is disgusting."
The counter was stained with countless beer marks the size of glasses. The tables looked even more dirty. French fries were still lying between salt and pepper caster and ketchup had dried on old plates and cutlery. The light over their heads was flickering steadily and flies and moths were swirling around it. Through the windows that were pasted with ads and wanted and "who has seen" posters, Dean could only see darkness.
"Believe me, this place served the freaking best burgers I'd had in a long time," Dean stated and grinned. He knew he was dreaming and he also knew that, as soon as he woke up, this dream would be forgotten.
"What are we doing here?" he asked, looking at the angel. "And, more precisely, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same," Bob replied but didn't look at Dean. And when he followed his gaze, he also could see what Bob was looking at.
His other self, a few weeks younger, was standing at the counter, balancing two plates. One salad, one burger. He just stood there, staring into a booth where Sam was sitting, leaned over a book, deeply immersed into the words and unaware of the fact that he was being watched.
"What the hell am I doing there?" Dean wondered even though the memory was still fresh in his mind. But there was a thought, a truth that he couldn't grasp. It was slipping away so fast that within the blink of an eye the scenery changed. So fast and so profound that Dean stumbled and reached out to hold himself upright on the sleeve of Bob's jacket.
"What the..."
All the remaining words were lost somewhere between his brain and mouth and he just stared at the terrible battle that was unfolding in front of him. Standing on top of a large mountain he was looking down into a valley that reached far to the horizon and beyond.
"Dean, listen..." He felt the angel's hands on his shoulder. Could feel himself being swirled around so that he was facing the other man who was talking now agitatedly. His mouth moving rapidly and his eyes boring into him. But Dean couldn't help but let his own eyes wander back to the events on the foot of the mountain. Lakes of lava were snaking their way through the landscape and large columns of poisonous sulfur were climbing towards a black sky. Yellow flashes of lightning were breaking through the darkness, illuminating the clouds for the fraction of a second. With every flash Dean could make out movement on the far away ground. Creatures that were yielding weapons. Fighting. The clanking of swords and armors was audible, even up here. Not just audible, it was earsplitting. Noise was all around him, screams full of anger, hate or pure terror, and he resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears because Bob was still trying to tell him something.
"Dean, you need to listen," the angel yelled, his eyes boring into Dean like it wasn't words he wanted to give, but holes in his eyes. "You need to go!"
"Where?" Dean answered and he could barely understand his own words. "Bob! Tell me where I need to go."
"... Tower!" Bob said but it was more or less just the movement of his lips that made Dean understand. "Devil's Tower."
He started shaking him hard enough that Dean's teeth were rattling and he tried to twist himself out of his companion's clasp.
"Dean, you need to wake up..."
He bit tongue hard enough that he yelped and opened his eyes to find himself staring into the worried face of Ellen who only now stopped shaking him.
"Are you awake?"
"Yeah, thanks to you." Not sure whether he was grateful for it or not he blinked a few times, realizing that it was dark already. He must have been asleep for a while now and, through the windshield, he saw Sam and the young boy standing nearby, probably out on the watch. "What's wrong?" he asked when he saw the worry in the Ellen's face.
"We got some radio input over the last few hours. Looks like it's from a town nearby."
"And?"
She arched her eyebrows, looked over her shoulder at Sam and the boy and back at Dean. "Maybe you should hear this yourself."
The radio equipment down in the bunker looked like it came direct form World War I and Dean was surprised it was functional at all. One man - from the scarred looks, definitely a hunter - and Jo were sitting next to it, twiddling with the buttons. Other people were lying on folding beds, which were positioned against the walls of the room. Besides their constant snores there was only the static from the radio. Until... a female voice could be heard, almost covered by the wild noise. But it was a human voice. A panicked human voice. The woman was sobbing heartbreakingly, hiccupping 'Hello's and 'Can anyone hear me?'s. She said more but Dean could barely understand. The only words that clearly stood out before she fell into another sobbing fit were 'all dead'.
"How do you know it's from a town nearby?" Dean asked, looking first at Jo, then at Ellen.
"She named it. Said something about the town house being run down," the younger woman answered. "It's just a few miles north," she added with a glance at her mother. "I really think we should..."
"No!" Ellen interrupted her. "You're staying here!" Her tone didn't allow protest and so Jo pressed her lips into a thin line and squinted her eyes at her worried parent.
"But, Mom..."
"No!" It wasn't Ellen who had interrupted her this time but Dean. "Your mom's right. You should stay here. Sam and I we will check it out."
"I'll be coming with you," the unknown hunter, who had worked the radio, jumped in.
"And you are?" Dean asked, hoping he didn't come across as hostile as his voice lead to assume.
"Ned Landing. The young Skywalker over there..." He pointed at Luke, who stood a few feet aside next to Sam. He was two heads smaller than Dean's brother and his body language didn't exactly show self-confidence. "... is my nephew."
They shook hands and ten minutes later they were already on the radio. Two other hunters had decided to accompany them and while Dean was following the small autocade over dusty roads, dawn was slowly creeping along the horizon. Surprised, Dean looked at the clock and realized that it was already half past five. He had slept at least a few hours.
"Did you get any sleep?" he asked his brother while something nibbled at the back of his mind. A memory. It was distracting enough that he didn't even hear Sam's reply until the younger man slapped him against the shoulder.
"Hey, did you hear me?"
"What?... Uhm, yeah, sure."
"Great. What did I say?"
Dean grimaced. "Something about a pea under your matress?"
"Funny. What's up? What're you thinking about?"
"I had another dream, I think. Bob wanted us to go... somewhere." Angry, he hit his hand on the wheel. "Why can't the guy just write an email like every other normal person on this planet?"
"Go somewhere?"
"Some... mountain, I think." His forehead crunched up in confusion as he tried to remember. "With some weird name like... Evil's Bark or Devil's Home or something."
"Devil's Tower?" Sam asked and Dean's breath stuck in his throat as the words sent a chill all over him.
"Yeah, exactly. What is that?"
"Close encounter of the third kind, Dean," Sam grinned. "We used to love that movie."
"Yeah, so. What's that got to do with the Devil's Tower?"
"It's a monolith, a national monument actually in Wyoming. I'm pretty sure we've seen it already, passing by."
"Okay. So Bob obviously wants us to go there," Dean explained and threw Sam a look, which was being ignored. "Not that we plan to go there any time soon, right?"
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "You heard the woman on the radio. I really think that should be our priority right now. People out there need our help."
Their eyes met and no further words were needed. They had a job to do.
-o-
The day turned out long. Much longer than the early start had suggested. When they reached the town, it was empty, devoid of life--literally speaking. The city sign welcoming new visitors in town was smeared with something red, probably blood. Next to it, bodies were hung on electricity posts like bizarre memorials. At least they knew where blood had come from.
The streets were empty and only a few cars, some of them with doors spread wide open or even hauled upside down, were randomly scattered on the mainstreet. The sky was grey and a surreal fog had blanketed the whole city. A ghost town. Nothing could be heard as the three cars full of hunters--two SUVs and the Impala--reached the city center where traffic lights were blinking hectically.
Yellow-yellow-yellow-yellow. A steady rhythm.
A restaurant, a grocery store and a laundromat, all doors blown wide open with no one inside. A few chairs and tables were thrown on the sidewalk and blood was spattered against the windows from the inside. But no more bodies.
Smoke was billowing from a few windows on the second floors but it didn't look like it would spread. The fog was making everything damp and moist and when they left their cars, a steady drizzle was starting to fall.
Eerie silence engulfed them, more threatening than any war cries, and they collected in a circle, each hunter with their backs to theirs midst to keep everything around them in plain sight. They were heavily armed. Dean could make out most of them were shotguns while Ned was holding an axe as well as a large machete in his hands, obviously expecting close contact fights. His nephew was pressing the same gun to his chest he had greeted Sam and Dean with last night. The young man looked terrified and Dean could relate to that.
"Anyone else gets Silent Hill vibes?" the boy joked, his voice shaky and a little too high.
The next events started with the appearance of a single demon. A young woman, not older than sixteen or seventeen, whose hands were hanging loosely at her side, blood dripping from her fingers into a quickly growing puddle. Standing in the doorway to the laundromat Quick'n'Clean 24/7, she smiled at them with sparkling teeth. Seconds later they were surrounded.
Like a dam had broken, supernatural creatures were flooding the town, running them over like gallons of water, and it was all they could do and find shelter in the local church. Not without losing two men already. The church was poorly barricaded with wooden planks over the windows from the inside. Three families were huddled in far corner and when they entered, one of the women got up, walked towards them and her face was shining with hope.
"You heard us?"
Dean merely nodded as he and Sam closed the door behind them, leaning against it when the demons started pounding for entrance. Ned's nephew was bleeding heavily from a wound in his neck and his uncle's face was grim and smeared with blood. Most of it not his own.
"There's too many," Ned stated needlessly. "We're sitting ducks in here."
"I know that? Any better ideas?"
They were in way over their head and they knew it. This was the apocalypse after all. What had they been thinking? Go in, shotgun ready and kill the baddies? That was even risky on a normal day. This... was anything but normal.
Dean could hear the "civilians" cry and he met Sam's gaze as they changed thoughts without saying a word. They were trapped. Fate though, still had things in store for them and they didn't have to wait long until the sound of fighting and loud voices bellowing orders lured them outside. Another group of hunters had arrived. Actually, more than a group. Almost a small army including military equipment. Without further hesitation, he rushed out of the church to dive headfirst into the turmoil and according to the heavy steps behind him, Sam was following close behind.
Half a dozen demons had surrounded both brothers within seconds and if it weren't for the assistance of the new arrivals Dean doubted they would have made it. It didn't take long and his hands were slippery with blood, both his own and the blood of those poor bastards whose bodies were serving as meatsuits for blood-craving monsters. He swirled around, bringing a zombie-like creature to its knees with a high kick against its head and yelled "Watch out!" when another zombie was about to jump on his brother's back. Adrenaline was rushing through his body, banishing everything else but the concentration on kick, hit, turn, kick, hit, turn. Still, the feeling of helplessness was slowly weighing him down, tiring him not just physically.
Over his brother's shoulder he shot one demon in the head, right between the eyes and it merely stumbled backwards only to attack again, more vicious than before. "Down!" someone yelled and Dean and Sam responded immediately, falling on their knees right as something hot flew over their heads. Brain matter, blood and ripped clothes were flying through the air as at least six or seven demons were simply exploding like fire crackers.
There was one thing Dean had to hand to the military - their weapons were definitely effective.
The fight resulted in a sad victory with Sam and Dean miraculously alive but thirteen other hunters dead, Luke and his uncle among them. The town--once probably homely and alive with Sunday picnics and street festivals--was now mutilated with corpses paving its streets. Blood red rivers were gushing into the gutters and the disgusting smell of death and decay hung in the air.
"This is not our world anymore," one of the military strangers said, his voice subdued and almost as dead as the town itself, as they watched the battle ground while the sun was vanishing into the west. "It's theirs."
Dean silently agreed.
Brave new world.
Evacuating the survivors and burning the dead lasted well into the night and when Sam and Dean finally got into their car, they didn't look behind, strangely aware that they were leaving something behind.
Hope.
END OF PART TWO
Episode 21: The Eve of Destruction
Original airdate: 2010.08.17.
Summary:
Earthquakes, tsunamis, erupting volcanoes…destruction as the world has not yet seen. The apocalypse has come and is knocking on the door and the last seal is the only thing that stands between the fall of mankind and Sam and Dean’s last stand.
Excerpt:
Only slowly, a few sounds filtered through the chaos and all of a sudden Dean realized how silent it was. Besides the screaming of the few hurt and some random calls of people searching for friends and family, there was deadly calm around them. No wind, no birds, not even the sound of traffic. Now it felt like a well-meant irony that this town had already been dead before.
The sun was rising in the east, unnaturally large and blood-red. Like a ball dipped in paint.
All but peaceful.
Just the deadly calm before the real storm.
Written by: annj_g80 and faye_dartmouth
Artist: faye_dartmouth
PART TWO
"Don't move!" a small voice ordered, shaky and a little bit too high-pitched for Dean to actually take it seriously. So Dean didn't even think about not moving. He lowered his outstretched arm and turned around. Slowly and carefully though, but still he moved.
"I said don't move!" the voice repeated and this time there was a distinct hint of panic in it.
"Not moving," Dean countered, putting on a sloppy smile and exchanging a quick glance with his brother, who was standing closer to the boy. Don't hurt him, it's just a kid, Sam said with just the blink of an eye. Because he wasn't more. Just a kid. He couldn't be much older than seventeen. Eighteen tops. And he didn't really look like he knew which side of his rifle was front and back.
"Who are you?" the boy asked and his voice sounded just a little stronger.
"We're friends," Sam answered. "Friends of Ellen. We wanted to..."
"Sam? Dean?" Sam's face lit up in relief as Jo walked around the corner, quickly pointing the muzzle of her rifle towards the ground as she recognized the boys.
"Jo!" Sam all but yelled. All danger of being accidentally shot forgotten, he rushed towards the young blond hunter and hugged her whereas the boy still had his rifle directed pointedly at Dean. Either, he was very slow on the uptake or he really didn't like Dean. From the way his hands shook with adrenaline, probably the former.
"Luke, put the gun down!" Jo bellowed, finally, and Dean threw him a pissed look, making it clear that he didn't like being on this side of a gun. Especially not by some wanna-be hunter still wet behind his ears.
"Sorry," the boy, Luke, murmured and let the rifle sink.
"Dammit, Jo, where did you find this greenhorn?" Dean wanted to know after he too greeted her with a quick hug. "Did you open up a pre-hunter school?"
"You're a jerk, Dean Winchester," she hissed, but there was humor in her voice and a friendly twinkle in her eyes. "But I'm used to that."
"Used to jerks?" Sam asked.
Jo looked at Sam and then, with an evil grin, at Dean. "Used to you being a jerk."
"Ow, that hurt," Dean replied and the peaceful bantering quickly changed into something painful, realistic.
"Ellen okay?" Sam asked as they followed Jo around the house to the back where the small cabins were situated. The last time they had been here was still rather vivid in his memories and just as the memory came up, Dean saw his brother look uncomfortably back to the place where one of the hunters had been gruesomely murdered. It was probably just his imagination but he could have sworn he smelled a whiff of something metallic.
Jo crossed the area with long strides and the greenhorn had problems following. "Mom's fine. We all hid in the bunker after ..." She trailed off. "You know."
"Earthquake?" Sam wanted to know.
"Amongst other things."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked as she leaned down to grab for something hidden under loose earth and grass. Sam quickly assisted her and together they opened a heavy wooden trap door. It was well enough hidden that Dean and Sam never would have found it on their own. Grown over with weeds, it was only recognizable by a large metal ring with which they heaved the slab open. Cool, stale air rushed by as they climbed down a few steps.
"What other things?" Sam asked again when Jo still didn't answer. "And what bunker?"
The young blond hunter shrugged her shoulders. "Got attacked by some creatures. Some, I've never seen before. It was like they had formed a freaking army. Wolves, at least three Black Dogs and half a dozen other creatures that we haven't even got a name for. They killed most of the customers shortly after the earthquake had hit. Mom and I, we got the remaining guests down here. "
"What is here anyway?" Dean, who was walking a few meters behind them, piped up and touched the wall. "Did you expect an atomic war or something?"
The tunnel they were walking in was at least five feet wide but not high enough for Sam to stand upright. There were flickering lights attached to the walls and next to them more sigils and signs than Sam could gather with just one look. The corridor ended with another heavy door which, Sam suspected, was made of solid steel.
"Actually, the bunker was Bobby's idea." Jo smiled and when they reached the door, she knocked against it in a complicated rhythm which made Dean snort with amusement.
"Did you just knock Don't let me be misunderstood against the door as the secret 'open sesame' sign?"
"What? We can hide in a cellar but at least we hide with style." Jo grinned and the door swung open to reveal Ellen. The older woman first looked at her daughter, then recognized Sam and Dean.
"Sam, Dean!" She greeted them enthusiastically but, as an undertone, Sam could hear a relief that made him blush.
"Hey, Ellen," he winked awkwardly, taking a step backwards when she strode forwards to hug him-right before boxing him against the shoulder.
"Ow, what was that for?"
"For not having heard anything from you for ages."
"We did try calling you," Dean tried to defend them.
Ellen just raised her eyebrows. "Let me guess. You tried calling us after the shit hit the fan."
"Well..." Dean begun and his grimace was all Ellen needed. She boxed the older Winchester against his shoulder as well.
"Hey," Dean complained, rubbing the place at his chest. "At least Sam here got a proper hug to go with it."
The room Sam and Dean found themselves in was big, at least 30 square meters. The walls were covered with sigils just like the tunnel outside and the only light came from a few naked light bulbs that were hanging from the ceiling. Sam could see three doors, one of them being the one they had just entered through. As Ellen watched him eye the doors, she explained: "One sleeping room, one for the weapons and the supplies." There was a hint of pride in her voice and Sam had to admit, it was justified.
"Ellen, this is amazing. When... why..."
"Well...," Ellen blushed a little and didn't meet Sam's eyes as she explained, "After your last visit we decided to get a safe place in case of..."
"Us coming for another visit?" Dean interrupted and from his expression Sam could see that it was only half in joke.
Ellen huffed. "It would be too easy to answer with a yes, trust me." She glanced at her daughter who was talking with Luke on the other side of the room. "But I... I needed Jo to be safe somewhere."
"We understand," Sam said, smiling sadly. "So, this place..."
"Is safe. We even built salt lines in the walls. We got it cleaned inside out with a number of cleaning spells and the walls are pure iron."
"Nice." Dean nodded appreciatively. "What about them?" A group of people was sitting huddled together around a small table staring at a tiny radio that rattled and coughed with a painful static.
"A few hunters who were at the Roadhouse. Some more civilians. Some are in the other rooms while some..." She made a pause. "... we couldn't convince to stay. They left."
That was the moment when the radio blared back to life with a loud whine. There was a painful yelp that sounded like a hurt animal and instead of the static they could hear a newscaster.
"... as well as New York along direct fault lines. Military forces are trying to get back some order. Scientists now have affirmed the total number of seven independent earthquakes, three of them above 8 on the Richter scale. And that is in North America alone. The resulting tsunamis obliterated most of the islands in both oceans, taking out portions of the African coastline and Asia. There's still no word on casualties..." The man ranted, his voice void of emotion as if he had told this already a hundred times and every single time it had lost some part of its terror. "According to some messages from Europe and Africa, mass suicides have occurred in sect-like communities and the Vatican has been evacuated after thousands of people stormed..." The static rose and the man who had held the radio shook it, held it higher in the air as if it would get him a better reception. Indeed, it did. "Watch out, people." The statement was followed by a meaningful silence and another burst of static, this time no wriggling or changing location could change that.
-o-
The small group of hunters and civilians was getting along fine if not talking was any sign. The mood in the small bunker was down and it didn't take long for Dean to get nervous. While Sam was animatedly talking with Ellen, Jo was watching him intensely. Her eyebrows formed a tight V and her trigger finger was rapidly tapping against the barrel of her gun, which she was holding across her lap.
"I know how you feel," she sighed and walked over to him, letting herself sink down on a wooden box. When Dean had curiously opened it he had found food cans, water bottles and ammunition, neatly stacked with the ammo on top so if need be, it was easy to reach.
"This is quite a thing you managed here." With a vague gesture and a swift look around he included their surroundings and Jo just shrugged her shoulders.
"It was Mom's idea and Bobby's plans. I learned about it when Mom asked me to choose the interior design." At Dean's appalled grimace she chuckled quietly. "Just kidding. I just came home a few weeks ago. Needed to recuperate after a mean interlude with a Chupacabre in Oakland. Pulling her sleeve above her shoulder he saw a nasty scar, still a little swollen and pink with ongoing healing.
"Ouch!"
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyway, I came back to get better. Get back together with my Mom, you know?" She made a pause and lowered her head, staring intently at her folded hands. "I'm glad I did. I don't want to be anywhere else right now."
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I know what you mean." He looked at Sam.
"So, you think..." Jo began and Dean could hear that what she was about to say she didn't really wanted to speak out loud. "This is it? The end of the world as we know it?"
Dean couldn't help it. He snickered into his fist, earning a weird glance from Jo and he shook his hands.
"Sorry, it's just... Bob would so like that?"
"Bobby?" Jo asked, confused.
"No, not Bobby. Just Bob. Annoying little dude with the decency of a pimp..." Dean trailed off as something flickered across his face. His eyes narrowed and there were creases on his forehead for just a second. He had put this off long enough. When he spoke, his voice was loud enough that Sam could hear it. "He was in my dream."
That got Sam's attention. His brother stared at him cluelessly despite being in the middle of a talk with Ellen. "What?" he asked from across the room, his conversation with Ellen clearly forgotten.
"Bob, he was in my dream."
"Wha...? You mean, you dreamt about Bob? Should I worry?"
Indignantly, Dean jerked away and made a disgusted face. "Dude! No, I mean, he was in my dream the other night, before... you know... the shit hitteth the fan. As a freaking house guest, or something."
"Bob was in your dream?" Sam checked, his voice clearly indicating his disbelief but at least now his attention was completely at Dean.
"Yeah, he admired the dancer's leg work..." There was a dreamy look on Dean's face but not dreamy enough to hide the confusion. "He said we needed to go... somewhere."
"Who's that Bob guy?" Jo wanted to know, now a little annoyed about the way the boys were talking about someone she had no knowledge about.
"He's... a friend." Dean shook his head. "Just some weird guy who shows up in times and places when he's least expected and even less welcome."
"Okay, so Bob wants us to go somewhere but he forgot to mention where. How convenient." Sam threw his hands into the air and Dean shrugged his shoulders again.
"Well, in his defense, there was an earthquake before we could deepen our talk."
"That's still..." Sam's bitch face was so familiar that Dean immediately felt his agitation begin to subside.
"I guess he'll be back if it was important." Dean said nonchalantly, and leaned his back against the wall. He wanted to believe that was true. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths and tried to get rid of the feeling of the walls closing in on him. "I... gotta go get some fresh air," He finally announced and stood up before he could get an answer.
-o-
They spent the night at the Roadhouse. Or in Dean's case, in its close vicinity. He left the bunker in time to watch the sun vanish behind the horizon. The sky was a deep red like it was a burning ceiling, its intensity so sharp that Dean felt the heat of it on his face even after the sun had long gone. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his hip against the Impala and let his hand wander along its chilling curves and slid into the driver seat, putting his head against the head rest to close his eyes for just a few minutes. He could hear the peaceful sounds from outside. Crickets chirping and some early night birds tweeting. If only he pushed away his dark thoughts far away, he could almost believe that this was just another peaceful night out camping. He had Sam, he had the Impala. Ellen and Jo were alright and the rest... they could work around.
He took a deep breath. The car smelled familiar and intimate enough that it sent goosebumps all over his skin. Leather, stuffy clothes, gunpowder and Sam.
And hamburger.
He opened his eyes and found himself in a diner. Like the car, it felt and looked familiar and it didn't take long for Dean to remember.
"I'm dreaming," he said out loud, just to test his voice and see if someone would answer.
"'course you are."
"I know this diner."
"'course you do."
Bob was standing next to him with his arms across his chest and feet apart, looking like a general observing a battle field. "Sometimes I wonder why you and your brother haven't died of food poisoning yet. This place is disgusting."
The counter was stained with countless beer marks the size of glasses. The tables looked even more dirty. French fries were still lying between salt and pepper caster and ketchup had dried on old plates and cutlery. The light over their heads was flickering steadily and flies and moths were swirling around it. Through the windows that were pasted with ads and wanted and "who has seen" posters, Dean could only see darkness.
"Believe me, this place served the freaking best burgers I'd had in a long time," Dean stated and grinned. He knew he was dreaming and he also knew that, as soon as he woke up, this dream would be forgotten.
"What are we doing here?" he asked, looking at the angel. "And, more precisely, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same," Bob replied but didn't look at Dean. And when he followed his gaze, he also could see what Bob was looking at.
His other self, a few weeks younger, was standing at the counter, balancing two plates. One salad, one burger. He just stood there, staring into a booth where Sam was sitting, leaned over a book, deeply immersed into the words and unaware of the fact that he was being watched.
"What the hell am I doing there?" Dean wondered even though the memory was still fresh in his mind. But there was a thought, a truth that he couldn't grasp. It was slipping away so fast that within the blink of an eye the scenery changed. So fast and so profound that Dean stumbled and reached out to hold himself upright on the sleeve of Bob's jacket.
"What the..."
All the remaining words were lost somewhere between his brain and mouth and he just stared at the terrible battle that was unfolding in front of him. Standing on top of a large mountain he was looking down into a valley that reached far to the horizon and beyond.
"Dean, listen..." He felt the angel's hands on his shoulder. Could feel himself being swirled around so that he was facing the other man who was talking now agitatedly. His mouth moving rapidly and his eyes boring into him. But Dean couldn't help but let his own eyes wander back to the events on the foot of the mountain. Lakes of lava were snaking their way through the landscape and large columns of poisonous sulfur were climbing towards a black sky. Yellow flashes of lightning were breaking through the darkness, illuminating the clouds for the fraction of a second. With every flash Dean could make out movement on the far away ground. Creatures that were yielding weapons. Fighting. The clanking of swords and armors was audible, even up here. Not just audible, it was earsplitting. Noise was all around him, screams full of anger, hate or pure terror, and he resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears because Bob was still trying to tell him something.
"Dean, you need to listen," the angel yelled, his eyes boring into Dean like it wasn't words he wanted to give, but holes in his eyes. "You need to go!"
"Where?" Dean answered and he could barely understand his own words. "Bob! Tell me where I need to go."
"... Tower!" Bob said but it was more or less just the movement of his lips that made Dean understand. "Devil's Tower."
He started shaking him hard enough that Dean's teeth were rattling and he tried to twist himself out of his companion's clasp.
"Dean, you need to wake up..."
He bit tongue hard enough that he yelped and opened his eyes to find himself staring into the worried face of Ellen who only now stopped shaking him.
"Are you awake?"
"Yeah, thanks to you." Not sure whether he was grateful for it or not he blinked a few times, realizing that it was dark already. He must have been asleep for a while now and, through the windshield, he saw Sam and the young boy standing nearby, probably out on the watch. "What's wrong?" he asked when he saw the worry in the Ellen's face.
"We got some radio input over the last few hours. Looks like it's from a town nearby."
"And?"
She arched her eyebrows, looked over her shoulder at Sam and the boy and back at Dean. "Maybe you should hear this yourself."
The radio equipment down in the bunker looked like it came direct form World War I and Dean was surprised it was functional at all. One man - from the scarred looks, definitely a hunter - and Jo were sitting next to it, twiddling with the buttons. Other people were lying on folding beds, which were positioned against the walls of the room. Besides their constant snores there was only the static from the radio. Until... a female voice could be heard, almost covered by the wild noise. But it was a human voice. A panicked human voice. The woman was sobbing heartbreakingly, hiccupping 'Hello's and 'Can anyone hear me?'s. She said more but Dean could barely understand. The only words that clearly stood out before she fell into another sobbing fit were 'all dead'.
"How do you know it's from a town nearby?" Dean asked, looking first at Jo, then at Ellen.
"She named it. Said something about the town house being run down," the younger woman answered. "It's just a few miles north," she added with a glance at her mother. "I really think we should..."
"No!" Ellen interrupted her. "You're staying here!" Her tone didn't allow protest and so Jo pressed her lips into a thin line and squinted her eyes at her worried parent.
"But, Mom..."
"No!" It wasn't Ellen who had interrupted her this time but Dean. "Your mom's right. You should stay here. Sam and I we will check it out."
"I'll be coming with you," the unknown hunter, who had worked the radio, jumped in.
"And you are?" Dean asked, hoping he didn't come across as hostile as his voice lead to assume.
"Ned Landing. The young Skywalker over there..." He pointed at Luke, who stood a few feet aside next to Sam. He was two heads smaller than Dean's brother and his body language didn't exactly show self-confidence. "... is my nephew."
They shook hands and ten minutes later they were already on the radio. Two other hunters had decided to accompany them and while Dean was following the small autocade over dusty roads, dawn was slowly creeping along the horizon. Surprised, Dean looked at the clock and realized that it was already half past five. He had slept at least a few hours.
"Did you get any sleep?" he asked his brother while something nibbled at the back of his mind. A memory. It was distracting enough that he didn't even hear Sam's reply until the younger man slapped him against the shoulder.
"Hey, did you hear me?"
"What?... Uhm, yeah, sure."
"Great. What did I say?"
Dean grimaced. "Something about a pea under your matress?"
"Funny. What's up? What're you thinking about?"
"I had another dream, I think. Bob wanted us to go... somewhere." Angry, he hit his hand on the wheel. "Why can't the guy just write an email like every other normal person on this planet?"
"Go somewhere?"
"Some... mountain, I think." His forehead crunched up in confusion as he tried to remember. "With some weird name like... Evil's Bark or Devil's Home or something."
"Devil's Tower?" Sam asked and Dean's breath stuck in his throat as the words sent a chill all over him.
"Yeah, exactly. What is that?"
"Close encounter of the third kind, Dean," Sam grinned. "We used to love that movie."
"Yeah, so. What's that got to do with the Devil's Tower?"
"It's a monolith, a national monument actually in Wyoming. I'm pretty sure we've seen it already, passing by."
"Okay. So Bob obviously wants us to go there," Dean explained and threw Sam a look, which was being ignored. "Not that we plan to go there any time soon, right?"
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "You heard the woman on the radio. I really think that should be our priority right now. People out there need our help."
Their eyes met and no further words were needed. They had a job to do.
-o-
The day turned out long. Much longer than the early start had suggested. When they reached the town, it was empty, devoid of life--literally speaking. The city sign welcoming new visitors in town was smeared with something red, probably blood. Next to it, bodies were hung on electricity posts like bizarre memorials. At least they knew where blood had come from.
The streets were empty and only a few cars, some of them with doors spread wide open or even hauled upside down, were randomly scattered on the mainstreet. The sky was grey and a surreal fog had blanketed the whole city. A ghost town. Nothing could be heard as the three cars full of hunters--two SUVs and the Impala--reached the city center where traffic lights were blinking hectically.
Yellow-yellow-yellow-yellow. A steady rhythm.
A restaurant, a grocery store and a laundromat, all doors blown wide open with no one inside. A few chairs and tables were thrown on the sidewalk and blood was spattered against the windows from the inside. But no more bodies.
Smoke was billowing from a few windows on the second floors but it didn't look like it would spread. The fog was making everything damp and moist and when they left their cars, a steady drizzle was starting to fall.
Eerie silence engulfed them, more threatening than any war cries, and they collected in a circle, each hunter with their backs to theirs midst to keep everything around them in plain sight. They were heavily armed. Dean could make out most of them were shotguns while Ned was holding an axe as well as a large machete in his hands, obviously expecting close contact fights. His nephew was pressing the same gun to his chest he had greeted Sam and Dean with last night. The young man looked terrified and Dean could relate to that.
"Anyone else gets Silent Hill vibes?" the boy joked, his voice shaky and a little too high.
The next events started with the appearance of a single demon. A young woman, not older than sixteen or seventeen, whose hands were hanging loosely at her side, blood dripping from her fingers into a quickly growing puddle. Standing in the doorway to the laundromat Quick'n'Clean 24/7, she smiled at them with sparkling teeth. Seconds later they were surrounded.
Like a dam had broken, supernatural creatures were flooding the town, running them over like gallons of water, and it was all they could do and find shelter in the local church. Not without losing two men already. The church was poorly barricaded with wooden planks over the windows from the inside. Three families were huddled in far corner and when they entered, one of the women got up, walked towards them and her face was shining with hope.
"You heard us?"
Dean merely nodded as he and Sam closed the door behind them, leaning against it when the demons started pounding for entrance. Ned's nephew was bleeding heavily from a wound in his neck and his uncle's face was grim and smeared with blood. Most of it not his own.
"There's too many," Ned stated needlessly. "We're sitting ducks in here."
"I know that? Any better ideas?"
They were in way over their head and they knew it. This was the apocalypse after all. What had they been thinking? Go in, shotgun ready and kill the baddies? That was even risky on a normal day. This... was anything but normal.
Dean could hear the "civilians" cry and he met Sam's gaze as they changed thoughts without saying a word. They were trapped. Fate though, still had things in store for them and they didn't have to wait long until the sound of fighting and loud voices bellowing orders lured them outside. Another group of hunters had arrived. Actually, more than a group. Almost a small army including military equipment. Without further hesitation, he rushed out of the church to dive headfirst into the turmoil and according to the heavy steps behind him, Sam was following close behind.
Half a dozen demons had surrounded both brothers within seconds and if it weren't for the assistance of the new arrivals Dean doubted they would have made it. It didn't take long and his hands were slippery with blood, both his own and the blood of those poor bastards whose bodies were serving as meatsuits for blood-craving monsters. He swirled around, bringing a zombie-like creature to its knees with a high kick against its head and yelled "Watch out!" when another zombie was about to jump on his brother's back. Adrenaline was rushing through his body, banishing everything else but the concentration on kick, hit, turn, kick, hit, turn. Still, the feeling of helplessness was slowly weighing him down, tiring him not just physically.
Over his brother's shoulder he shot one demon in the head, right between the eyes and it merely stumbled backwards only to attack again, more vicious than before. "Down!" someone yelled and Dean and Sam responded immediately, falling on their knees right as something hot flew over their heads. Brain matter, blood and ripped clothes were flying through the air as at least six or seven demons were simply exploding like fire crackers.
There was one thing Dean had to hand to the military - their weapons were definitely effective.
The fight resulted in a sad victory with Sam and Dean miraculously alive but thirteen other hunters dead, Luke and his uncle among them. The town--once probably homely and alive with Sunday picnics and street festivals--was now mutilated with corpses paving its streets. Blood red rivers were gushing into the gutters and the disgusting smell of death and decay hung in the air.
"This is not our world anymore," one of the military strangers said, his voice subdued and almost as dead as the town itself, as they watched the battle ground while the sun was vanishing into the west. "It's theirs."
Dean silently agreed.
Brave new world.
Evacuating the survivors and burning the dead lasted well into the night and when Sam and Dean finally got into their car, they didn't look behind, strangely aware that they were leaving something behind.
Hope.
END OF PART TWO