All in the Family
All in the Family
Chapter 7
Chapter Wordcount: 1381
Once she got in town the research part wasn’t too hard to track down. Unfortunately the cemetery where the body was, was also right on the edge of a neighborhood.
She waited until the dead of the night before taking the truck through the gates and parking as close to the plot as she could.
The edge of her shovel had just broken a hole though the lid of the coffin when she heard a twig snap behind her.
Before she even had time to turn her body was lifted from the hole in the ground and flung into a nearby statue of an angel.
She blinked her eyes and tried to regain her breath that had been so suddenly knocked from her and managed to catch a blurry glimpse of the apparition of the bitch she was currently trying to torch.
“Oh honey, that was a bad idea.”
The silver woman sneered in the moonlight before suddenly appearing in front of Rayne and grabbing hold of her throat tossing her several more feet into a gravestone.
Rayne screamed before biting down on her cheek so hard she tasted blood when she felt the sickening pop of her shoulder coming out of joint.
She focused her swirling vision in on the ghost with a glare of rage.
Holding her arm close to her body she made a dive for the rock salt filled shotgun that lay by the open grave.
The enraged spirit once again materialized in front of her and phantom scratches tore down Rayne’s chest, blooding blossoming under her shirt from the unseen wounds.
“Bitch!” she screamed, hand blindly finding shotgun again and whipping it at the specter woman’s face, unloading a round into her face.
With a screech she watched the woman dissolve in on herself, the sparkles of flying salt melting spots through her airy form like ice before she disappeared.
Without waiting, Rayne rolled over with a groan and grabbed the salt container, using the shovel with one hand to break a bigger hole into the coffin lid before dumping the whole container on the brittle bones.
She twisted the cap off a bottle of lighter fluid and emptied its contents on top before striking a match on her belt buckle and dropping it in the hole, watching with a smug smile on her face as the bones went up in flames.
She had barely regained her breath when she heard sirens approaching fast from the distance.
“Shit,” she scrambled back to the truck wrenching the door open, before throwing her duffle and shovel back across the seat, she glanced back once, wishing she had the time to at least refill the grave.
She stomped the gas as the first red and blue strobe lights careened around the corner.
She took a kamikaze left hand turn into a subdivision and prayed to god the cops didn’t know these cul-de-sacs and residential roads well enough to cut her off.
She exited the neighborhood just in time to see a pair of cop cruisers come barreling around the corner, before righting themselves in pursuit of the truck.
“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, arching in her seat, grabbing for her pocket knife with her one good hand, the movement sending pain igniting across her chest, reminding her of her injuries.
She sighed when her fingers closed around the cool metal in her back pocket and she quick dropped it in her lap as she cut a corner, taking the truck precariously close to two wheels before flooring it down a dirt road.
She spotted an abandoned warehouse off the main road and crashed through a barbed wire fence and sped through an open field to the building.
She jammed her hand into the light switch killing the white headlights as she watched the cops tear down the road past her hideout.
She finally inhaled a shaky breath before taking the pocket knife and slicing right down the front of her shit, opening the mauled fabric to take stock of the gashes that bitch had opened across her chest.
She went to reach for her duffle and turned a little too much causing tendrils of liquid fire to shoot though her shoulder, curling their way into her neck and jaw, down her arm and across her back.
Her hand hit the steering wheel and she panted harshly, a sheen of sweat starting to bead at her hairline.
She ripped a strip of her shredded shirt off and stuffed it in her mouth before placing her hand under her arm.
She inhaled and pushed up in one quick, ugly jolt and screamed into the crumpled cloth as tears streamed down her cheeks.
When her breath finally returned in short, ragged gasps she spit the cloth out, finally reaching over to her pack and returning with a small silver flask.
She unscrewed the metal cap and took a gulp of the searing liquid before emptying the alcoholic contents over her chest.
She dropped the flask on the seat and grabbed a hold of the steering wheel with white knuckles as the burn slowly subsided from her flesh, the blood mixing with the vodka and marking sick pink blooms across her bra.
She reached up with a shaky hand to wipe the sweat from her eyes before once again palming her pocket knife and snapping on the overhead cabin light, folding herself over and yanking on the wires underneath the trucks dash.
She blinked her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear the pain ridden cobwebs before finally finding the wire dedicated to the brake lights and sliced the blade through it.
She finally allowed herself time to breath and tossed the blade back into her bag.
When she opened her eyes she cursed herself as she saw the swirling blue and red lights pause on the road before the cruiser accelerated in reverse.
“Fuck,” she hissed, slamming her fist into the overhead light that she had left on in her stupor and wrenched down on the shifter, the truck groaned as she abused it, sending gravel ticking as she floored it in reverse, crashing though the flimsy aluminum door at the back of the warehouse.
The metal screeched and caught on the truck’s body before finally breaking free as she jammed the gears back into drive and tore down the road.
She was pleased when she glanced in the rearview and saw the first cop barrel into the debris just in time for a second to crash into its trunk.
She chuckled until she saw two more maneuver around them to follow in the pursuit.
She weaved her way back into town trying to find somewhere she could ditch the truck without being suspiciously close to the motel but still close enough for her to walk back in her injured state.
She saw the faint glow of blue in her rearview and cut a corner into an alley, grimacing as she heard the bed screech against the wall she had mistakenly judged the distance of.
She pulled past another alley that cut across before jamming the shifter in reverse and backing the truck into it in a wild arc that slammed the front bumper into the building’s brick wall, knocking it askew and almost off.
She backed into the second alley, snatching the keys and tossing them in her bag as she grabbed a clean shirt, making short work of wiping off prints before she sprinted down the darkened street back towards the motel.
She stuck to the shadows and paused long enough to shed her destroyed shirt before pulling on another and continued on her way back to the motel.
She let out a sigh as she heard the door click shut behind her and leaned back, grimacing as pain once again throbbed through her shoulder.
She stripped of her shirt and jeans, eyeing the gashes across her chest that at least had stopped bleeding.
She stumbled her way into the bathroom, snatching a hand towel and dousing it in cold water before gingerly cleaning herself up, pulling on her last clean shirt.
She trudged back to the bed and collapsed in a heap, praying for the morning when Sam and Dean would be there to pick her up.
Previous: Chapter Six | Next: Chapter Eight
Chapter 7
Chapter Wordcount: 1381
Once she got in town the research part wasn’t too hard to track down. Unfortunately the cemetery where the body was, was also right on the edge of a neighborhood.
She waited until the dead of the night before taking the truck through the gates and parking as close to the plot as she could.
The edge of her shovel had just broken a hole though the lid of the coffin when she heard a twig snap behind her.
Before she even had time to turn her body was lifted from the hole in the ground and flung into a nearby statue of an angel.
She blinked her eyes and tried to regain her breath that had been so suddenly knocked from her and managed to catch a blurry glimpse of the apparition of the bitch she was currently trying to torch.
“Oh honey, that was a bad idea.”
The silver woman sneered in the moonlight before suddenly appearing in front of Rayne and grabbing hold of her throat tossing her several more feet into a gravestone.
Rayne screamed before biting down on her cheek so hard she tasted blood when she felt the sickening pop of her shoulder coming out of joint.
She focused her swirling vision in on the ghost with a glare of rage.
Holding her arm close to her body she made a dive for the rock salt filled shotgun that lay by the open grave.
The enraged spirit once again materialized in front of her and phantom scratches tore down Rayne’s chest, blooding blossoming under her shirt from the unseen wounds.
“Bitch!” she screamed, hand blindly finding shotgun again and whipping it at the specter woman’s face, unloading a round into her face.
With a screech she watched the woman dissolve in on herself, the sparkles of flying salt melting spots through her airy form like ice before she disappeared.
Without waiting, Rayne rolled over with a groan and grabbed the salt container, using the shovel with one hand to break a bigger hole into the coffin lid before dumping the whole container on the brittle bones.
She twisted the cap off a bottle of lighter fluid and emptied its contents on top before striking a match on her belt buckle and dropping it in the hole, watching with a smug smile on her face as the bones went up in flames.
She had barely regained her breath when she heard sirens approaching fast from the distance.
“Shit,” she scrambled back to the truck wrenching the door open, before throwing her duffle and shovel back across the seat, she glanced back once, wishing she had the time to at least refill the grave.
She stomped the gas as the first red and blue strobe lights careened around the corner.
She took a kamikaze left hand turn into a subdivision and prayed to god the cops didn’t know these cul-de-sacs and residential roads well enough to cut her off.
She exited the neighborhood just in time to see a pair of cop cruisers come barreling around the corner, before righting themselves in pursuit of the truck.
“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, arching in her seat, grabbing for her pocket knife with her one good hand, the movement sending pain igniting across her chest, reminding her of her injuries.
She sighed when her fingers closed around the cool metal in her back pocket and she quick dropped it in her lap as she cut a corner, taking the truck precariously close to two wheels before flooring it down a dirt road.
She spotted an abandoned warehouse off the main road and crashed through a barbed wire fence and sped through an open field to the building.
She jammed her hand into the light switch killing the white headlights as she watched the cops tear down the road past her hideout.
She finally inhaled a shaky breath before taking the pocket knife and slicing right down the front of her shit, opening the mauled fabric to take stock of the gashes that bitch had opened across her chest.
She went to reach for her duffle and turned a little too much causing tendrils of liquid fire to shoot though her shoulder, curling their way into her neck and jaw, down her arm and across her back.
Her hand hit the steering wheel and she panted harshly, a sheen of sweat starting to bead at her hairline.
She ripped a strip of her shredded shirt off and stuffed it in her mouth before placing her hand under her arm.
She inhaled and pushed up in one quick, ugly jolt and screamed into the crumpled cloth as tears streamed down her cheeks.
When her breath finally returned in short, ragged gasps she spit the cloth out, finally reaching over to her pack and returning with a small silver flask.
She unscrewed the metal cap and took a gulp of the searing liquid before emptying the alcoholic contents over her chest.
She dropped the flask on the seat and grabbed a hold of the steering wheel with white knuckles as the burn slowly subsided from her flesh, the blood mixing with the vodka and marking sick pink blooms across her bra.
She reached up with a shaky hand to wipe the sweat from her eyes before once again palming her pocket knife and snapping on the overhead cabin light, folding herself over and yanking on the wires underneath the trucks dash.
She blinked her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear the pain ridden cobwebs before finally finding the wire dedicated to the brake lights and sliced the blade through it.
She finally allowed herself time to breath and tossed the blade back into her bag.
When she opened her eyes she cursed herself as she saw the swirling blue and red lights pause on the road before the cruiser accelerated in reverse.
“Fuck,” she hissed, slamming her fist into the overhead light that she had left on in her stupor and wrenched down on the shifter, the truck groaned as she abused it, sending gravel ticking as she floored it in reverse, crashing though the flimsy aluminum door at the back of the warehouse.
The metal screeched and caught on the truck’s body before finally breaking free as she jammed the gears back into drive and tore down the road.
She was pleased when she glanced in the rearview and saw the first cop barrel into the debris just in time for a second to crash into its trunk.
She chuckled until she saw two more maneuver around them to follow in the pursuit.
She weaved her way back into town trying to find somewhere she could ditch the truck without being suspiciously close to the motel but still close enough for her to walk back in her injured state.
She saw the faint glow of blue in her rearview and cut a corner into an alley, grimacing as she heard the bed screech against the wall she had mistakenly judged the distance of.
She pulled past another alley that cut across before jamming the shifter in reverse and backing the truck into it in a wild arc that slammed the front bumper into the building’s brick wall, knocking it askew and almost off.
She backed into the second alley, snatching the keys and tossing them in her bag as she grabbed a clean shirt, making short work of wiping off prints before she sprinted down the darkened street back towards the motel.
She stuck to the shadows and paused long enough to shed her destroyed shirt before pulling on another and continued on her way back to the motel.
She let out a sigh as she heard the door click shut behind her and leaned back, grimacing as pain once again throbbed through her shoulder.
She stripped of her shirt and jeans, eyeing the gashes across her chest that at least had stopped bleeding.
She stumbled her way into the bathroom, snatching a hand towel and dousing it in cold water before gingerly cleaning herself up, pulling on her last clean shirt.
She trudged back to the bed and collapsed in a heap, praying for the morning when Sam and Dean would be there to pick her up.
Previous: Chapter Six | Next: Chapter Eight