Down in the Underground Chapter 4
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
CHAPTER 4
"I really don't know what I can tell you." Liz sat in her office in the small building outside the entrance to the Underground. "Are you alright?" She'd asked Sam that at least three times she knew but he was so pale she couldn't help it. He nodded.
"I'm fine, Liz." Sam smiled and sat across from her. He scanned the pictures behind her desk and jumped back up.
"Hey, take it easy." Dean stopped him from toppling over.
"Liz who is that?" Sam pointed to a picture of seven men.
"Which one?" She took the picture down from the wall and handed it to him. "Those are the men who started the whole Underground Tours business. The Gaffney brothers."
"Whoa. All seven of them?" Dean looked over Sam's shoulder in surprise.
Liz laughed, smoothing a hand over the bandage on her forehead. "Yes, though only one of them is still around." She pointed to the somewhat attractive man in the center. "Hank Gaffney. He's the youngest."
Sam looked up, caught Dean's eye and nodded. "Do you know where we can find him?" Sam asked and handed the picture back.
"Well he was here just a bit ago. He said he wanted to have a quick look through the Underground and make sure everything's locked up." She sat back. "He's keeping it closed today he said but we'll be open again tomorrow."
"Thanks, Liz." Sam stood and took her hand. Dean cleared his throat and ducked out of the room. "I'm sorry you got hurt yesterday."
"Oh it's nothing." She smiled warmly, enjoying the feel of her hand in his. "You should really be resting."
"I will." Sam took his hand back and turned to the door. Liz quickly came around the desk and stopped him.
"You know, I don't usually….oh hell." She rose up to her toes and wrapped both hands around Sam's neck, bringing his head down to meet her.
Sam felt her lips part as her fingers tangled in his hair. Her body melted against him and he ran his hands from her shoulders down to her shapely backside, deepening the kiss. Liz moaned, sending butterflies through Sam's stomach before she leaned back, eyes closed and face flushed.
"Hot damn." She sighed and made Sam chuckle. "You're having dinner with me tonight."
"I am?" Sam rested his hands on her waist, wrapping his fingers around her back and watched her eyes flutter closed, making him smile.
"Uh huh. And breakfast." Liz looked up at him with a shy grin.
"It's a date." Sam bent and took her mouth again, smiling against the curve of her lips as their tongues tangled, his hands splayed up her ribs making her shiver and moan. Something about her took away his usual reserve, made him confident. He liked the feeling.
"Your brother's waiting." Liz said sadly and stepped back. She watched him go and closed the door behind him with a happy, frustrated sigh.
Dean waited outside, leaning against the Impala with a knowing grin on his face. Sam felt the blush creep up his neck as he limped over and growled.
"What?"
"Dude." Dean shook his head. "I'm jealous." He laughed and followed Sam toward the entrance to the Underground. "She's hot and she's hot for you. Just remember to leave a sock on the door."
Sam ducked his head and hoped the blush didn't get any brighter. "You're not funny."
"Dude I'm freakin hysterical." Dean slapped his shoulder. "You just don't have a sense of humor." He stopped Sam at the top of the stairs. "You're staying up here, Hop-a-long. Never mind the bum leg, the ghosts down there think you're tasty."
"You're not going in alone." Sam pushed his hand away. "We're not arguing about this. We'll stay away from that damn Card Room."
Dean watched Sam brush past him and start down the stairs. "Stupid…stubborn…"
"Stop sweet talkin' and get down here." Sam called up and laughed at the growl that carried clearly down to him. He was thankful for the sturdy railing. Walking wasn't a particular problem but stairs were still something the fresh wound in his thigh protested.
"Mr. Gaffney?" Sam called as they reached the lobby. It was empty and gates were pulled across two of the three tunnel entrances. "That's not the tunnel we were in yesterday." Sam nodded to the open gate.
Dean grabbed a map from a shelf by the door an unfolded it. Most of the tunnels marked were shaded in red as blocked off, impassable or off limits. Only a small portion were in black and safe for tourists. The open door led to one of the red tunnels. "Looks like some old mineworks down there, storage for the old railway and way too much that's not marked."
"Damn. He could be hurt." Sam stepped to the gate. "Or worse. We gotta find him. The vision showed me that shadow for a reason."
"Ok, but you stay with me." Dean took a flashlight from the shelf and switched it on. "No running off." He chuckled at the dirty look Sam shot him.
The first hundred feet of the tunnel was stone floors and walls. Stone gave way to dirt and wood and opened into a large chamber with rails in the floor and an old mine cart flipped on its side.
"Mr. Gaffney!" Dean shouted and still they heard nothing. He played the light along the floor and pointed. "Footprints. Come on." They followed the tunnel further in. "What the hell is this?" Small alcoves had been dug out from the walls. Curtains hung in front of them. They were long enough for a man to lay down but only four feet high.
"Uh, Opium dens I think." Sam twitched one of the curtains aside. "Chinese immigrants brought it with them."
"Great. So we might run into Hop Sing's ghost tripping balls on Opium?" Dean shook his head. "This job just gets better and better."
"Wonder if his Dad was a seventh son too." Sam said absently, resting a hand on the wall to take the weight off his leg. "Hank's a seventh son. We could be dealing with a male Witch."
"Wait. First ghosts and now witches?" Dean threw his arms out in frustration. "Why not a damn Werewolf while we're at it? Man I HATE Witches!"
A clang of metal on metal stopped them, both men drawing their handguns. Dean nodded to the left of the forked tunnel ahead of them and went quickly. Sam stayed at his back, making sure nothing snuck up on them. There was a cry from up ahead.
"Crap." Dean took off around the corner.
"Dean!" Sam struggled into a limping run, trying to catch up and get him in sight again.
"It's my gold! Mine!" The words, oddly hollow and loud echoed in the tunnel and then silence fell. He'd read about others hearing those words; they belonged to the ghost of a train robber believed killed in the tunnels by police. He was rumored to attack anyone he thought was encroaching on his hidden stash.
"Dean!" Sam rounded the corner and gasped. Dean was laid out beside the man from Sam's vision. He stumbled to a knee beside his brother with a grimace of pain. "Dean?" He couldn't see any wounds so ran a hand over Dean's head, stopping at the back when he found a sizeable lump. "Ow. Something clocked you good. Dean?" Sam shook him but got no response. He looked over at Hank Gaffney and saw a swelling welt on his forehead. "Ah hell." Sam used the wall to push himself up and dug his cell out of his pocket. "No signal. Dammit!" Sam knelt back down carefully and gave a few short, stinging slaps to Dean's face.
"Dean! Wake up! I can't carry you." Sam took the fallen light and shone it up and down the tunnel. The train robbers ghost was nowhere to be seen. The sound of running feet came from the way they'd come and Sam aimed his gun down the passage, ready. The iron rounds in his handgun would work almost as well as salt.
"Hello?" Liz's voice carried and she appeared, breathless and skidded to a halt as Sam lowered his gun. "Oh my god!"
"Liz." Sam breathed in relief.
"What happened?" She ran to them and knelt at Sam's side. "Are they…"
"They're alive." Sam assured her. "Just knocked out. We need to get help, or you do. Please. I wont leave Dean here unprotected."
She put a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Sam. I'll take care of everything. You stay with them." He looked about ready to fall over himself the poor guy. She jumped to her feet and dashed back down the tunnel.
Sam sagged with relief and stretched his aching leg beside his brother. He kept a hand on Dean's chest to feel the comforting beat of his heart and waited.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Sam leaned against the trunk of the Impala, chuckling as he watched Dean talk his way out of the ambulance and a trip to the hospital. He'd woken as the paramedics arrived and by the time they were all topside, Dean was unbuckling himself from the gurney. Sam had only avoided a ride by not walking where they could see him limp.
"Is he always like that?" Liz asked as she leaned next to him, bumping his shoulder.
"Pretty much." Sam smiled. "Thank you. What made you come down after us?"
"I heard yelling from the tunnel." She frowned. "But there were too many voices. I thought maybe kids had gotten in. I was running to find you."
"I'm glad you did. I couldn't have gotten them out." Sam pressed a hand to his thigh. He was hiding the stain of fresh blood. His stitches had started seeping with all the exercise and the pain was becoming hard to ignore. He gave a sad look to Liz. "Tonight's going to have to wait. I'm sorry."
She looked crestfallen but nodded. "No, no of course you're right."
"I can't leave him alone tonight." Sam said. "Not with a concussion." He brushed a hand up her bare arm and then along her jaw, smiling as her eyes fluttered. "Besides, I'm not really in any condition to enjoy tonight…and I want to enjoy you."
She dropped her head to his shoulder with a grin and a sigh. "Honestly you could read me the phone book and I think I'd be good." They chuckled together. Dean was heading for them, dusting his hands of the paramedics and smiling. "Another night then." Liz caressed a hand over his neck, making him shiver and left.
"Keys." Sam ordered and held out his hand as Dean reached him.
"What? Dude, no way." Dean shook his head. "I'm fine. I can drive."
"You were out cold for almost a half hour. Keys." Sam argued.
"You know I could take you right now." Dean threatened but handed over the keys. "Gimp." Sam snorted and got behind the wheel.
"Where to?" Sam asked as the engine rumbled to life.
"Well Hank's out for a while according to the medics so I say we go toss his house." Dean grinned and held up a black, leather wallet. "Slipped out of his pocket while they were belting him in."
"Nice." Sam smirked and pulled out as the ambulance turned the other way.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Breaking in to Hank Gaffney's house wasn't going to be as hard as they'd thought in broad daylight. His house, a huge four story affair of stone and brick sat on its own block screened by trees and an eight foot stone wall. They parked a block away and walked to a small security gate they had seen at the back. In a show of irony, Dean used one of Gaffney's own credit cards to jimmy the lock up and slipped inside with a chuckle. The lawn was well tended and open all the way to the house.
"Good thing no one can look in and see us." Sam remarked, eyeing the tall wall and trees gratefully. Getting into the house itself was another matter. It had a security system. Dean walked about the wrap around porch until he found a sign for the alarm company on a window and clapped his hands together.
"Easy. Guy should go with a better company." Dean hopped off the porch and around the side of the house to a large breaker box. "Watch and learn, Sammy." He said as Sam came up beside him.
"When did you learn to bypass alarm systems?" Sam asked in surprise.
"About a year after you went to college." Dean had the case open and was confidently pulling and stripping wires. "There's this alarm R&D company outside Palo Alto." He caught his bottom lip with his teeth as he carefully rewired the box. "Worked there for three months and picked up a few things. Voila!" Dean turned back and saw the slack jawed shock on his brother's face. "What? Dude, you didn't really think I was gonna just walk away and not keep an eye on you?"
Sam shook his head no and followed Dean to the porch door, trying to process the new information. "I just…I can't picture you volunteering for computer time." He said finally and Dean chuckled.
"This is different." Dean pushed the door open with a grin. "This is work. Let's go."
Hank Gaffney's house was nowhere as neat and tidy as the well tended lawns outside. It was cluttered; books, papers and every sort of junk on every available surface.
"The guy's a hoarder?" Sam said in surprise. "Finding anything in here is going to be a nightmare."
"You start down here, I'll go up." Dean left Sam limping to the kitchen and headed upstairs. The mess didn't get any better, it just continued. Magazines and papers, books and when he pushed one door open, he found an entire room filled with instruction manuals for appliances. "This guy has got some serious screws loose." Finding nothing, he climbed the stairs to the third floor. The first door he opened look like the guy's bedroom. "Yahtzee."
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Sam easily found Hank's office, though the desk was buried beneath piles of books and a tall stack of maps of the Underground. He plucked one from the pile and smiled. Unlike the one Dean had found in the Undergound lobby, this map was complete and seemed to cover all seventy plus miles of tunnel. "Yahtzee." Sam grinned and tucked it into his jacket.
Other than the map, there didn't seem to be anything of particular interest to them. He went back to the kitchen and saw the cellar door behind a wall of magazines.
"Why would you hide a whole door?" Sam wondered and inched around the pile, easing the door open enough to slip inside. He sighed with relief when the switch actually worked and turned the lights on. They glowed at the bottom of the stairs. The cellar was nothing like the rest of the house. It was clean, not a box or a stack of junk anywhere. In fact it was empty except for a wide trap door in the center of the floor.
"Well that's not suspicious at all then." Sam drew his gun and leveled it at the door. He bent awkwardly with his wound and got hold of the big iron ring. He gave a pull and flipped the door open. It landed in the dirt with a thump. He stepped to the edge, gun leading and looked over. The cellar light illuminated a cracked tile floor below. The ladder that ran from the edge down looked new compared to the old wood around it.
Sam stepped on the first rung and climbed down for a quick look. There was no mistaking it had once been a butcher shop. The smell alone was overwhelming. Colored spots began to dance in his vision and he realized what was happening.
"Crap." The ghosts of that particular area were homing in on him as they had in the laundry. Sam turned back to the ladder and hauled himself back up as nausea worked its way into his stomach. He crawled over the edge onto the dirt floor and pulled the trap door closed with a grunt but it didn't stop. Whatever spirits were down there still pulled at him. A few words of Chinese whispered in his ear and Sam forced his bad leg to cooperate, getting shakily to his feet.
"Dean!" He shouted as he reached the stairs. His head was beginning to spin and pound. He could feel new blood beginning to trickle down his leg. He stumbled, going to his hands on the rough wooden stairs. The voices grew louder. There was a crashing, thumping noise against the door above him and behind him the trap door flew open.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Click for Part 5: