Best Laid Schemes (8/10)
"You sure you're up to this?" Sam asked, turning to his brother in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean had relinquished the keys without any prompting from his brother, happy if he could just keep his eyes open long enough for them to reach the library.
"Yes, Sam. For the thousandth time, I'm sure," Dean rasped. But when they were done he was going to sleep for a week.
"Okay, okay. There's Mark." Sam gestured to their friend who was emerging from his own car, carrying a bulky bag. A short, stocky man lumbered out after him.
"And George Costanza," Dean added with a chuckle.
"That's Bill Watson. Son of a bitch," Holgrum said angrily.
"Calm down, we need you two to be civil for now," Sam instructed. "You can tear him a new one later."
Dean circled the car, opening the trunk and gathering a few things to put in their duffel bags. "What do you think we should bring?" He asked when Sam had joined him.
"A little bit of everything, probably."
Dean nodded. "Mark!" he yelled over to the hunter, beckoning him to the car. "What do you have in there?" he asked, pointing to Mark's own bag.
"Holy water, salt rounds, iron. Oh, and some Heka - binding spells and cleansing rituals. I think we should be okay for now. I think you've got enough in there," he told Dean, motioning to his bag.
"So what do we do with the two civilians?" Sam asked after Dean had packed up the bag. Holgrum still sat in the car and Bill Watkins was standing near Mark's car, clearly not thrilled about being involved in the operation.
"I say we take them with us," Mark offered. "That way we can watch them, make sure they don't get killed. And it wouldn't hurt having five people with us."
"Plus, it istheir fault," Dean muttered. Sam turned to look at his brother.
"What happened to the 'we need to save them' spiel from before?"
"Yeah well, that was before we knew what we know now."
Sam huffed out a laugh, though he couldn't really disagree with his brother. Plus, he had a feeling that Dean's worsening condition had something to do with his lack of sympathy for the two men responsible for this whole mess.
Sam knocked on the window of the Impala and Richard Holgrum reluctantly emerged from the car. "Are you sure we're not in any danger?" he asked nervously.
"No, Richard, it's exactly the opposite. But you're in danger regardless of whether or not we move these bodies," Sam told him impatiently. "And it's probably in your best interest that we do it as quickly as possible."
"Fine," he agreed. "Does hehave to come?" Holgrum pointed to his shady colleague.
"Lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas," Dean grunted, seeing a flicker of annoyance cross Bill Watkin's face. "It's not like you're innocent either," he told Richard.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road, gentlemen," Mark announced, and Richard had no choice but to acknowledge Bill. "Ready?" he asked, not expecting them to answer. "Great, let's go."
The library was pitch dark and no guards were in sight. Sam flicked on one of the overhead lights, choosing not to illuminate the entire building. If anyone was driving past, he didn't want them to grow curious and investigate. They had enough problems on their hands dealing with two untrained civilians.
"We need you to take us to the hidden room," Sam instructed Bill and Richard. "What? Didn't think we knew about that?" he asked, addressing their surprised expressions. "You guys weren't as sneaky as you thought."
Holgrum and Watkins led the three hunters down into the basement and Sam mentally pictured the route that Emily had described to him. Even with her detailed account, though, Sam realized he never would have found the hidden room. It was exactly where she had said it would be, but could only be opened by pulling a certain brick in the wall. Someone really didn't want this place to be found.
"It's like something out of Indiana Jones," Dean murmured, awestruck while the brick wall opened, creating a dark passageway. Sam laughed at his brother's obvious excitement. "Anyone have a torch?" Dean asked aloud.
"We don't need one," Watkins informed Dean gruffly, flicking on a light switch that lit up the passageway.
Dean looked over at Sam, "Still think a torch would have been cooler," he whispered.
Sam laughed, nudging Dean forward. "Me too, bro."
The hallway, though not incredibly long, was filled with twists and turns obviously meant to provide one last measure of protection against the chamber's contents. All Sam could think about was how annoying it was going to be to have to navigate the hallway while carrying the bodies and artifacts, all the while protecting themselves from an ancient, powerful curse.
The bodies were neatly laid out at the end of the tunnel in what appeared to be a makeshift burial site. Still, it didn't take away from the fact that they shouldn't have been there in the first place.
"Is this everything?" Mark asked, eyeing the items critically. Richard's immediate "yes" to the question made Bill's hesitation even more noticeable. "Bill, if you have anything, we need to know right now. Moving the bodies back won't do shit if there are things missing."
Bill sighed loudly, but reached around to his neck, revealing a gold pendant. He pulled the pendant over his head and handed it Mark, who studied it for a moment.
"What does that stand for?" Sam asked, looking over Mark's shoulder at the pendant.
"It wards off evil spirits," Mark glanced at Bill before placing the pendant with the rest of the artifacts. "It wouldn't have worked," he added matter-of-factly. "It only works for Esopus descendants. I'm surprised you didn't know that," Mark said, receiving the intended reaction from Watkins.
"I didn't take it for protection," Bill said unconvincingly. "It doesn't matter anyway. This stuff should be preserved. It's stupid that anyone has this kind of power."
"I agree about the power part," Mark told him, "but the bodies dorightfully belong to the Esopus."
"They'd be happy to just leave them in an unmarked grave," Richard grumbled in agreement with Bill. "We're trying to make a vital part of this town's history accessible to its people."
Sam groaned loudly. "How many times do we have to remind you that you could die because of this?"
Dean yawned, stretching his arms out. "I don't know about you guys, but I'd kill to be in a bed asleep right about now. How about we start moving some bodies?"
"The burial site is a five minute drive from here," Mark pointed out. "We should take alternate trips to make sure we don't leave the library unguarded. And since Bill and I get along so well," Mark added jokingly, "he can come with me and if he behaves, I'll make sure the Esopus spirits don't tear him to shreds."
Bill and Richard looked anything but amused, and Sam guessed Mark had achieved what he'd intended to with that comment. "Yeah that sounds good," he agreed. "But let's do this as quickly as possible. This should only take about four trips at most, and we don't need anyone seeing what we're doing."
Dean crouched down, examining the bodies more closely. He coughed into his fist as the dust and dirt that covered the tattered remains irritated his throat. "You mean I have to put these in my baby?" he asked, looking nervously up at Sam.
Sam chuckled. "Suck it up, Dean. We'll put down a few blankets. Your babywill be fine."
"That's why I drive a crappy old rust bucket. Never have to worry about the upholstery," Mark said proudly. "Alright Billy Boy, you and I are making the first trip, so let's get moving."
The five men carefully moved the bodies and artifacts to the first floor, and Mark, Richard, Sam, and Bill took turns moving them out to Mark's car. Dean stayed in the library, standing guard at the entrance. Or at least that was what Sam had told him he was doing, mainly because it was the only way to force Dean into getting some semblance of rest.
Even though Dean had tried to keep up with the other men, Sam could tell it was taking every ounce of his energy. Not to mention, the second he stepped outside into the brisk air, his lungs had seized up and he'd broken off into a coughing fit that had left him drained. So yeah, he wasn't really going to argue with the current set-up. He may have been stubborn, but he wasn't a masochist.
Sam came back into the library, brushing off his pants that were now covered in corpse-dust and dirt. Richard walked in behind him. "Mark's car is full," Sam told Dean. "He's just going to take those bodies and artifacts back to the burial site and then Rich and I can make our run."
Dean nodded, not missing the implied and you can stay here. "You two should go with Mark now. Wouldn't that speed up this whole operation?" Sam had been anticipating that question from his brother and had already formulated a response.
"Doesn't make sense for the four of us to go. Rich and I can load up the Impala while Mark and Bill unload at the site, that way we can leave right when they get back. Plus, we don't want to risk the chance of all of us getting caught. That's more likely to happen if we're all in the same place at once." He had purposely omitted the part about not wanting to leave Dean alone, unprotected. But Dean probably already knew that anyway.
"Yeah, okay," Dean agreed, pushing to his feet. "Let's go get some more bodies."
The system actually worked out pretty well. Mark and Bill returned after about twenty minutes, and Sam and Rich headed out as soon as Mark had briefed them on the details.
"It's really dark," he had explained, "so be careful with how much light you guys use. Dead quiet too," he added, "super creepy, right Bill?" Mark couldn't seem to get enough of torturing the poor guy. "Anyway, just be careful, alright? Two more trips and we should be done."
It took Sam a little longer to return, probably because he was more cautious than Mark, and Rich was more skittish than Bill. Mark was out the door as soon as Sam came back, anxious to finish up with the plan.
"How was it?" Dean asked his brother.
Sam shrugged. "Nothing I haven't done before, though it does feel a bit weird burying the bodies instead of digging them up."
"Ha. I bet. So there's only a few more things to bring up, and then we should be set. But Mark said he wants to do some sort of cleansing ritual in the passageway just to make sure."
"When's he going to do that?"
"I think he said he'll do it while you guys are taking the last set of artifacts to the burial ground. I guess the only requirement is that none of the bodies can be in the library at the time of the ritual, so this way he can cleanse the place and then we can get the hell out of here as soon as you guys get back."
"Okay, sounds good. We've been lucky so far, I just hope we can pull this off. Then tomorrow we can strategize about who could be doing this and how we can end it for good."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, already heading down towards the basement. He and Sam brought the rest of the bodies up while Rich remained at the top of the library. Sam figured the experience had been pretty disturbing to the man and he let him rest before preparing to head out again.
When Mark returned for the second time, he and Sam discussed a few more of the logistics; Mark told Sam more details about the cleansing ritual, and Sam and Rich headed out one last time.
"Do you want me to do the ritual with you?" Dean asked, wearily pulling himself out of the chair he had slumped in.
Mark shook his head. "I can be the only one down there. You stay up here, keep an eye on my pal Bill," he instructed. "Maybe you should sit down," he added after studying Dean for a minute. Mark slipped a quick hand onto Dean's forehead, shocked at how hot it was to the touch. "Jesus, Dean! You said you'd let us know if it got bad."
Dean sat back down, resting his head on the table. "I'm not any worse," he defended himself meekly. He peered up at Mark, hoping the older hunter would let it go. "Can we just finish this?"
Mark hesitated a minute before finally relenting. "Okay, but then you're going straight to bed. No arguments."
Dean shrugged. He'd been planning on doing that all along. "Fine."
Mark nodded. "Bill!" he shouted, trying to locate the anthropology professor. Bill stuck his head out from one of the aisles. "Get over here. I need you two to stay here until I'm done."
"What the hell does it matter if I stay with him or not?" Bill asked angrily, motioning to Dean. "For all I know he has the bubonic plague. I'd rather not get sick."
"For someone who's supposed to be smart, you're a total idiot," Mark told him. "I'll only be ten minutes or so, and I don't want to risk you getting hurt while I do this." Though at this point, his concern for Bill's well-being was dwindling.
"Fine," Bill grumbled, pulling over a chair.
Satisfied that Bill was going to do what he asked, Mark headed back down the stairs to the chamber.
Dean stayed quiet; his head was aching and his throat was dry and painful. Plus, he didn't much feel like talking to the jackass who was currently seated across from him. Luckily, Bill seemed to share his sentiments.
But even as he tried to look anywhere but at the professor, Dean found his eyes continually drifting back to Bill, unable to shake off the feeling that something wasn't right. His eyes kept focusing on a metal ring on Bill's left hand, and the symbol on it that seemed so damn familiar. And then it hit him.
"You're an Esopus," Dean whispered painfully, the dryness in his throat not allowing his voice to reach much higher than a whisper. Bill swung beady black eyes onto Dean and his body stiffened.
"What did you say?"
"You're not a Hugeunot," Dean said this time. "Your ring. I've seen that symbol before. It's Heka." Dean kept talking. He knew he should shut up; hell, he knew he should be downright terrified, but he just kept feeding his own curiosity.
Bill looked furious. "You hunters," he growled, the latter word said with such disdain it made Dean shiver. Or maybe that was the sudden drop in temperature that seemed to encompass the entire first floor of the library. "You should have just left this alone. This is our town," Bill was on his feet now, and the room dropped a few more degrees. Dean shivered - he couldn't help it - and his teeth chattered together. He knew he was helpless here. He was screwed. "I was just taking back what was rightfully ours."
Bill twisted the ring on his finger, and a faint glow seemed to emanate from the silver. The floors started shaking, the tables and chairs rattling loudly.
"Why...did...you...kill them?" Dean stuttered, wrapping his arms around himself to try and stay warm. "Why even move the bodies in the first place?"
Bill didn't answer, apparently more concerned with destroying the library and everything inside. He raised his arms and the floor shook with an even greater ferocity. Dean heard glass shattering from windows breaking as the lights flickered on and off. This was so not good. "I needed to make sure I knew where they were takingthe bodies so that I could get them back later. I killed them for violating the sacredness of my people. I"m going to kill you too," Bill growled. "And that brother of yours and the idiot Richard," he added, chuckling slightly. "And especially that jackass Mark," he added. Dean almostlaughed at that last part. Mark had clearly pissed the guy off to the extreme. "That's what you get for trying to help out good-for-nothing thieves," Bill said, as if that truly explained everything. "Lie down with dogs...you know the rest."
Apparently that was all that Bill intended to say. In one last swell of power, Dean was thrown from his chair, landing hard at the base of a table. He was immediately hit with an onslaught of books, and he threw his hands up over his head to try and protect himself. Dean lifted his head when the attack seemed to slow, and he looked up, relieved to see he was right. Dean stood up, desperate to get away from Bill, to get to Mark and make sure his friend was okay.
He didn't see Bill anywhere and made a beeline towards the basement door. Two steps from reaching his destination, Dean paused, hearing what sounded like a table screeching across the floor. He looked back to see exactly that. And it was coming right at him. Dean had less than a millisecond to react, but he managed to turn away from the hurtling object, receiving only a glancing blow to the left side of his back. Still, the pain was unreal.
Dean fought the pull of unconsciousness, but between the pain from his injuries and the exhaustion from his illness, it was a losing battle. He closed his eyes, vaguely registering the sound of Mark yelling from the basement, his footsteps getting louder as he sprinted up the stairs. Dean wanted to warn him to stay back, to save himself, but his body refused to allow him that courtesy. His last thought before blissful unconsciousness pulled him under was Sam's going to be so pissed.