A Time for War 4/7
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Chapter 3
Ashes
The dark cloud pursued the hunter caravan as far as the highway, but the fact that it didn’t continue to follow them toward Sioux Falls didn’t give anyone cause to relax. None of the Winchesters felt like talking, and DZ didn’t turn on the radio in order to prevent distractions in case of another attack. The hunters stopped for gas and food around nightfall, but even that stop was as brief as possible. It was still after midnight when they rolled into the driveway of Singer Salvage Yard, and most of the passengers had fallen asleep.
“Don’t know how in the hell I’m s’posed to fit forty people into my house,” Bobby grouched as Dean and Zeetha unmerged and started helping roust passengers out of the van. “Wasn’t another safe house any closer to Cold Oak, but....”
“We could stay in town,” Dean offered.
Bobby shook his head. “No, we’ll work somethin’ out. Ain’t likely anything can breach the new wards Her Majesty put on the place after that mess with Lucrezia. Motel won’t be near as safe. Which reminds me, John,” he added as Mom and Dad joined them. “I called the sheriff ’bout these kids, since so many of ’em’s been reported missin’. Story we’re goin’ with is they were kidnapped by some whackadoo cult. Sheriff said she’ll be here in ten minutes or so.”
Dad nodded slowly. He’d shaved off his beard since March, but that hadn’t changed his appearance nearly enough to fool even a moderately attentive peace officer-and Bobby had mentioned in the past that Sheriff Jody Mills was sharper than most. “Think I should hide in the basement?”
“No, gonna have to have some o’ these kids bed down on the floor down there, so she might go down to talk to them. But I don’t think she’ll pay much attention to the workshop.”
Dad nodded his agreement and checked his watch, as did Dean. Then discussion turned to who should sleep where and how to get enough groceries to feed all of Bobby’s unexpected guests, and that plus the process of getting everybody into the house and starting to clear enough floor space for sleeping consumed most of the next nine minutes. Dean, who was pulling bedding out of the hall closet to hand out for bedrolls, paused to check his watch again and shouted a time warning to Dad, who waved back and went to the workshop with Mom and Klaus in tow.
Exactly one minute later, there was a knock on the front door. Violetta answered it and led a dark-haired, uniformed woman through the crowded hall to the living room, making sure she walked directly under the devil’s trap that was still on the ceiling from when Bobby had painted it to trap Lucrezia. The woman didn’t even break her stride when she reached the edge of the trap, and Dean relaxed a little and carried his current armload of bedding over to the desk to start sorting through.
“You weren’t joking about the college kids, were you, Singer?” the woman asked rhetorically as Bobby came out of the kitchen. “I didn’t think you sounded drunk, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.”
“Thanks for comin’ anyway, Sheriff,” Bobby replied and shook her hand. “Sorry to get you out so late, but I do appreciate you comin’ yourself.”
Sheriff Mills shrugged. “Part of the job.”
“We’ve been workin’ on gettin’ a list of names an’ addresses, but I’m sure you’ll want to verify with photo ID.”
“And get statements from everyone, right. We can work out how to get everyone home in the morning.”
“Excuse me, Sheriff,” Tarvek interrupted, “but it might be wiser to wait a few days before sending people home, just to be sure the cultists have been apprehended. The kidnappers obviously know where all of these people live, and there’s a good chance they’ll either strike again or try to eliminate all the witnesses.”
Sheriff Mills frowned. “You think they’ve got that kind of organization?”
“Had to have. How else could they have taken so many kids from all over the country, all at the same time?”
That gave Dean an idea, which he promptly shared with Zeetha and Gil.
Could work, Zeetha agreed from somewhere upstairs. Sounds like a job for Henry and Ardsley.
We might need Ash and Colette to plant more of a digital trail, Gil noted from the kitchen, where he was helping Henry take inventory. But yeah, I think it’s feasible.
As if on cue, Ardsley wandered over to join Bobby’s conversation. “Forgive me, Sheriff, but had you heard about the mass murder in Colorado a few days ago?”
Sheriff Mills startled. “Well, yeah. It’s been all over the news tonight.”
“Manning’s not exactly a large town, is it?”
“Not exactly a ghost town, either.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. She was smart.
“Granted,” Tarvek said, “but excluding Elkins, the murders occurred in a barn isolated enough that no one would hear anything, and some of the victims had been kidnapped from the surrounding area, right?”
Ardsley nodded. “I suspect there might be evidence at the scenes of these kidnappings”-he gestured around to indicate the kids in the house-“and at Cold Oak that’s similar, if not identical, to what was found at that crime scene.”
Sheriff Mills raised her chin and paused a moment before replying. “Would you boy detectives mind allowing me to do my job?” she asked irritably, but something about her tone told Dean she’d definitely be considering the theory.
Tarvek and Ardsley both raised their hands in surrender and walked off in opposite directions, and Bobby started talking strategy with Sheriff Mills.
Couldn’t have done that better ourselves, Gil thought, amused.
“Ready with these?” Tarvek asked as he walked over to Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean replied. “Takin’ this bunch to the basement?”
“If Jess and Colette have the space cleared, yes.”
Dean nodded and let Tarvek take half the stack, then bundled up the rest in his own arms and followed Tarvek down the basement stairs.
Once they were out of earshot of any of the kids, Tarvek said quietly, “Haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. There are hints in Colt’s journal that he was doing something significant near a town called Sunrise, Wyoming, in the late 1850s or early 1860s. He chose his words very carefully, and since we don’t have the original, there’s no way of testing whether there’s anything more explicit hidden between the pages or anything like that. Before we left, though, I asked Ash to look into it. He said he’d call back if he found anything.”
Dean frowned as Colette took his armload of bedding. “Sunrise, Wyoming? Never heard of it.”
“Not many people have. Agatha couldn’t even find anything about it in Sinclair’s books before we had to leave. Judging from the end of the journal, though, the reason Colt went back to Connecticut in 1861 was that Sunrise got burned out-possibly by Indians, but more likely by demons.”
“He didn’t know for sure?”
“No, apparently he was living in a cabin twenty miles out of town. Oh, and one other detail: there was a wannabe hunter in Sunrise. Colt wouldn’t give him the time of day until he’d finished whatever he was doing out there, but he did mention a name.”
“Oh?”
“‘Slick Jim’ Elkins.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Didn’t Henry say the Colt had been in the hands of the Elkins family....”
“Since 1861. Yes. Elkins and a woman named Darla managed to survive whatever happened to the town, and Colt said something about giving them the gun when he left because the demons wouldn’t expect him to part with it.”
“So the demons do want the Colt for some reason.”
Tarvek shrugged.
“Allons-y,”* Colette interrupted firmly. “We have workbenches to move out of the way and materials and weapons to hide before anyone comes down here.”
Dean and Tarvek shared a look and got to work.
The DuMedds and the Wulfenbachs also came down at that point, so it took only about half an hour to get the basement presentable enough for overnight. When Colette finally dismissed Dean, he found Sam, Van, and Ardsley still upstairs helping Ellen and Rufus herd cats. Zeetha came down from the guest room and reported that Sheriff Mills, who’d set up shop up there, had gotten about half of the statements she needed so far, so the kids who’d already given their statements were free to go downstairs to sleep, and the Adventure Club was free to organize a Walmart run.
As Van and Ardsley went to start ushering people downstairs and Ellen sent the next kid up to talk to the sheriff, Henry came over waving a clipboard. “We’re liable to clean out the store if we buy everything at once. Even just getting enough for overnight is going to be more than one vehicle can hold, I suspect-food, clothes, toiletries, sanitary supplies, medicines....”
“We’ve got three diabetics who need insulin pretty urgently,” Sam noted. “Sheriff Mills already called for a deputy to give them a ride to the hospital.”
“Plus three vegetarians and a... vegan?”
“Extreme vegetarian,” Dean explained.
“Oh, like George Bernard Shaw.”
“I... guess?” Dean looked to Sam for help. He knew the name, and of course he’d read Pygmalion and watched My Fair Lady in high school, but he didn’t know anything about Shaw personally.
Sam, misreading the look completely, rolled his eyes.
Gil, Agatha, and Tarvek joined them at that point. “The point is,” Gil said, “that Bobby doesn’t even have enough food for our families, let alone everyone else. Theo’s gone to volunteer to drive the diabetics to the hospital and meet the deputy there, and Van, Ardsley, and the girls are still busy downstairs. The rest of us need to divvy up the list and figure out what we need soonest, what we can get at this time of night, and how many of us it’s going to take to get those things in one trip without raising any suspicions.”
“Good excuse to get Mom and Dad out of sight,” Dean noted.
Sam frowned. “They don’t have any credit cards, remember? We had to cancel all of Dad’s after his so-called suicide.”
“Yeah, but they can help carry stuff.”
Sam conceded with a tilt of the head.
“It might be easier to discuss this outside,” Tarvek observed as Theo and his passengers pushed past.
Agatha nodded. “You guys get your parents and Uncle Klaus. We’ll meet you by the cars.”
Dean nodded back and looked at Sam, who followed him out the back door and to the workshop. “It’s us,” Dean announced as the brothers rounded the blind side of the workshop at the same time Theo drove off.
“Boys,” Dad acknowledged. “Was that the sheriff who just left?”
“No, not yet. Theo had to take a couple kids to the hospital.” When Klaus shifted in alarm, Dean added, “For meds. Nobody’s fighting.”
Klaus huffed in relief and relaxed.
“We’re about to head to Walmart,” Sam explained. “Wondered if you’d want to come with us.”
Dad grimaced. “Could be recognized.”
“It’s not likely at this hour,” Mom countered, “and it would be a better use of our time than standing around out here with nothing to do but tell war stories.”
Dad huffed but didn’t argue.
“I’ll see you there,” said Klaus and walked off toward the cars.
Sam and Dean turned to follow, but Mom said, “Boys-Sam-before we go, we wanted to talk to you privately for a moment.”
The brothers looked at each other and turned back. “Sure, Mom,” Sam replied. “What’s up?”
Mom nudged Dad, who said, “Next time, don’t wait so long to get the civilians out of range.”
Sam bristled.
“What your father means,” Mom said with a quick sideways glare at Dad, “is that we’re very proud of the way you handled the situation. You did everything you could to keep everyone calm, and you didn’t reach for a weapon even when you were attacked.”
Sam shot Dean a brief look of surprise and took a deep breath. “I trusted my family to have my back.”
Dad bristled at that.
“As well you should,” Mom replied and looked at Dean. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for the help when that boy tried to make me shoot myself.”
Dean ducked his head. “It was Violetta who killed him.”
“But if she hadn’t, that shield would have saved my life.”
But Dean knew what Dad would say. “I shoulda been faster. Shoulda been the first thing I did.”
Mom’s glare at Dad wasn’t fleeting this time.
And Dad sighed. “No, Dean, I should have shot him myself. If you’d acted sooner, you would only have given away the fact that she meant something to you, and the others would have singled her out to attack to make us back down.”
Knowing that was the closest thing to praise he’d ever get from Dad, Dean nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Before the conversation could continue, however, Dean’s phone rang. To his surprise, the display showed the number for the Roadhouse. He sent an attention-getting signal to the twins, who jogged over with Agatha and Tarvek in tow, and answered.
“Dean?” Ash asked quietly, like he didn’t want to be overheard but hadn’t expected Dean to answer.
“Yeah, Ash. ’Sup?”
“Oh.” Ash swore. “Sorry, thought I’s callin’ Tarvek.”
“It’s fine. Tarvek’s right here. Whatcha got?”
“Somethin’ huge, compadre. He was right.”
“Hold on, lemme put you on speaker.”
“No. No, I cain’t... cain’t tell you on the phone. How soon can you get here?”
Dean blinked. “Dude, we’ve been drivin’ all day. Even if we left now, it’s at least five hours from Bobby’s.”
“Five hours,” Ash repeated nervously. “Five hours. Okay, okay... ’s only an hour to closin’....”
Dean huffed. “Just close early, go down in the panic room, and call back. We’re at Bobby’s. Zanta warded this place tighter’n Fort Knox after they got Lucrezia trapped.”
“I cain’t talk on this line, Dean! I’s a damn fool for startin’ the research above ground in the first-” Ash suddenly broke off with a curse and a rattle of metal.
“Ash?”
There was a whompf-screams-a clang-the thock of a sliding bolt being thrown-static-
“ASH?!”
The line went dead.
Dean looked in horror at Gil and Zeetha, who looked just as horrified. They’d heard; of course they’d heard.
“We’ll get there faster merged,” said Gil and handed his keys to Tarvek.
But before Dean could agree, Agatha raised a finger to him and her phone to her ear. He tossed his keys to Sam as she said, “Uncle Barry? ... Sorry to wake you. ... We may be stopping by in the next hour. You probably won’t hear us come in. ... Okay, just wanted to let you know. Love you.” She hung up, pocketed her phone, and nodded to Dean as she lowered her finger.
“Say that again?” Dean prompted.
“We’ll get there faster merged,” Gil repeated.
“Yes.”
Dean barely had time to be surprised that Gil and Agatha didn’t merge with each other first before they and Zeetha were slamming into him, his body shifting and stretching more than usual to accommodate the mass of two extra people. He barely had time to register that he wasn’t in the driver’s seat of the Impala-shaped vessel space this time before they were outside the Roadhouse.
And the Roadhouse was burning.
Dean swore, but in the driver’s seat, Gil already had the CB mike in his hand and was shouting Enochian spells with their shared voice. One sounded like a protection spell; one Dean recognized as an exorcism. Then Gil handed the mike to Agatha, and while Gil and Zeetha started wielding their elemental powers against the fire, Agatha chanted something else that wasn’t even Enochian. With a loud clap of thunder, rain started pouring on the building and the parking lot, extinguishing flames and healing the burns of the people who’d managed to make it out alive. But the fire seemed to be fighting back, and part of the roof collapsed.
It’s demon fire, Zeetha explained before Dean could ask. And the alcohol’s fueling it. Agatha-
Agatha pressed the button on the mike again and chanted in Latin. This time Dean recognized it vaguely as the exorcism of water that was used to make holy water. The fire roared like a living thing as the blessed rain beat down on it and the twins’ power forced it into a more contained area, yet slowly but surely, they succeeded in putting it out. An extra downburst ensured that any remaining hotspots were well doused and wouldn’t rekindle the flames.
You see Ash anywhere? Dean asked as Agatha handed the mike back to Gil.
Gil shook his head. No.
It sounded like he’d jumped into the panic room, Zeetha noted.
Dean nodded once. All right, move.
Faster than a blink of an eye, Dean and Gil switched positions. Dean threw a shield around them, put their body in gear, and charged into the smoking ruin of the bar, calling for Ash. There were no bodies in the main room; apparently all the patrons had still been sober enough to run, which was surprising at this hour. But there was no sign of Ash until they finally reached the entrance to the panic room, which was hidden in a storeroom. The heavily-warded padlock was open, but the iron hatch itself was shut, and when Dean tugged on it experimentally, it rattled but wouldn’t open.
“Ash?” he called, but there was no answer.
Well, at least we know he made it this far, Gil noted. Can we pass the wards without opening the hatch?
“Yeah, I think so.”
Dean relocked the hatch with the padlock and jumped straight down into the panic room, which was hot and somewhat smoky, though less so than the rest of the building. The PC workstation Ash had set up for video conferencing and administering the Adventure Club’s private network was off, and Dean couldn’t tell whether it had sustained any heat damage. But Ash himself, clutching a stack of papers to his chest, had collapsed in front of a second hatch that Dean assumed led down to a server room; with or without a separate air conditioner, the mere fact that that room was further underground would mean it would be cooler. Ash’s skin looked beet red, and he wasn’t sweating, but the papers were rising and falling slightly, and behind them Dean could just barely make out the glow of Ash’s soul.
He’s alive, Zeetha gasped.
“Gotta get him outta here,” Dean replied, gingerly gathered their unconscious friend into their arms, and jumped again to the Wulfenbachs’ house in town, landing in the den and settling Ash on the couch.
Then and only then did the four of them unmerge.
“Why here?” Zeetha asked and turned on the lights with a wave of her hand.
“Closest to the kitchen,” Dean replied, sliding the papers out of Ash’s grasp and setting them on the coffee table. “We can start icin’ ’im down now while Ags gets an ice bath-”
“What happened?” a pajama-clad Barry Heterodyne demanded from the doorway.
“Heat stroke,” Gil explained, ripping open Ash’s shirt.
“Move.”
Dean and Gil barely had time to step back before Barry was kneeling in front of the couch, eyes and hands glowing blue. He put one hand on Ash’s chest and one behind Ash’s neck, closed his eyes, and began to hum. The redness slowly leached out of Ash’s skin and into Barry’s hands; Ash’s breathing slowed and deepened, and the fine sweat of a broken fever broke out on his face and chest. Agatha ran to the kitchen for a wet washrag, and by the time she got back with it, Ash was stirring a little with a slight groan.
“Easy, Ash,” Agatha whispered, kneeling beside Barry to wash Ash’s face. “Just take it easy. You’ll be all right.”
Zeetha jogged off toward the kitchen herself.
“Whrr’m Ah?” Ash mumbled hoarsely, frowning a little but not yet opening his eyes.
“You’re at our place,” Gil replied.
The frown deepened. “Wolfman?”
“Yeah, dude.”
“Wh’zat noise?”
“That’s my Uncle Barry,” Agatha explained. “He’s healing you. I think he’s almost finished.”
Barry stopped humming and slumped against the coffee table, panting. “That’s... about all I can do, anyway. He’s out of danger.”
Zeetha came back with two bottles of cold Gatorade. One she opened and handed to Barry, who nodded his thanks. “Think you can drink something, Ash?” she asked, opening the other bottle.
“’Sit PBR?” Ash asked.
“Not until you’re recovered. Alcohol would only dehydrate you worse.”
Ash grumbled under his breath. But Gil and Agatha eased him more upright, and Agatha took the Gatorade from Zeetha and helped Ash drink a little. Zeetha in turn took the rag, pulled the long part of Ash’s mullet out of the way, and started washing the back of his neck-and his chin when he choked on too big a sip and some of the liquid spilled past his lips when he coughed.
“Take it slow, dude,” Dean said. “That was a damn close call.”
Barry swallowed his own mouthful of Gatorade and nodded. “Too close. Your core temp was over 105°. You were minutes away from irreversible brain damage.”
Ash swore quietly.
“What was it you did, Uncle Barry?” Gil asked as Barry took another drink.
Barry smiled wanly. “Heat sink. Water’s got a high specific heat; I can draw off a fever without overheating too much myself.”
Dean’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “D’you learn that from....” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of Cuthbert Sinclair’s mansion.
Barry shook his head. “In the hospital. Sun figured it would help me recover faster to find ways to use my powers to help people.”
Ash swallowed another sip, coughed, and asked, “Papers?”
“We got ’em,” Dean assured him.
“Roadhouse?”
“We got the fire out. Everybody else made it out alive. Lot of damage, but the building’s still standing.”
Ash sighed and relaxed, then started coughing again, more deeply.
“Here,” Gil said and put one hand, glowing green, on Ash’s chest.
Ash coughed, gagged, and spat a huge glob of black ooze into the trash can that Agatha held up for him. “What was that?” he gasped.
“The smoke you inhaled,” Gil replied. “You should be breathing easier in a few seconds.”
Ash hauled in a few deeper breaths, relaxed again, and finally opened his eyes to look around at them. “Thanks, y’all.”
“Anytime,” the Winchesters and Wulfenbachs chorused, and Gil took his hand off Ash’s chest.
Then Zeetha looked at Dean and pulled out her cell phone. “I should call Ellen.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, and I should call Sam.”
“Guess that leaves me to call Bobby and Dad,” Gil said.
Dean nodded again, and the three of them went from the den to the kitchen, where Zeetha tossed the rag into the sink, and spread out from there into adjoining rooms to make their calls and bring everyone up to speed. Sam reported that Colette, Violetta, Jess, and the DuMedds had volunteered to stay behind and help Bobby and Rufus with the rescuees, but everyone else was already en route to Beetleburg, with Tarvek driving Gil’s car for reasons Dean couldn’t fathom.
Ash and Barry both looked better when Dean and the twins came back into the den. “So, Ash,” Dean said. “Why don’t you tell us what you found?”
Ash shook his head. “Ain’t safe.”
“Dude, this house is warded to the roof.”
“So’s the Roadhouse. ’Sides, I ain’t up to tellin’ it more’n once.”
“Ash....”
“Dean, I ain’t tellin’ nothin’ to nobody ’cept in front of Her Majesty.”
Dean and Gil exchanged a look. “You want us to bring Mom here,” Gil asked, “or you want us to take you to the bunker?”
“Bunker,” Ash said firmly. “No offense, amigo, but I don’t wanna get your house burned down, too.”
Dean and Gil exchanged another look and sighed heavily at the same time. They were all more tired than they wanted to admit, but Ash did have a point.
“They’ll be here by dawn,” Agatha noted.
“Yeah,” Gil said, “but four hours is a long time, and anything could happen on the road between there and here or between here and the bunker. Full moon, after all; can’t take chances. We can let Ash sleep in the infirmary for tonight.”
Agatha conceded with a grimace and turned to Barry while Zeetha handed the papers back to Ash. “Sorry it was this sort of visit, Uncle Barry,” Agatha said and hugged him.
“That’s all right, sweetheart,” Barry replied, returning the hug. “Glad I was able to help, and it was good to see you.”
“I’ll call you when I can.”
“Sounds good. Be safe.”
“You, too.”
Dean quickly called Sam to let him know of the change in plan, and Sam promised to relay it to the rest of the caravan.
“Ready?” Gil asked as Dean hung up.
Dean slid his phone into his pocket, took a deep breath, let it out again, and nodded. “Yes.”
The merge didn’t feel quite so violent this time, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was looking down at a wide-eyed Ash and Barry.
“That is freaky,” Ash drawled.
“Get used to it,” Dean shot back. Then he scooped Ash up again, nodded to Barry, and jumped back to the bunker’s front door.
Only then did he remember that Sam had his keys.
I’ll get it, Agatha offered, and they unmerged, leaving Dean and Gil carrying Ash between them while Agatha unlocked the door and Zeetha brought up the rear.
“You sure I ain’t hallucinatin’?” Ash asked as Dean and Gil carted him inside.
“Positive,” they chorused.
As Zeetha went to debrief to Zanta, Dean and Gil hauled Ash down to the infirmary, where Agatha got him set up with an IV saline drip. Then she hugged Dean and shooed him out with strict orders to go sleep, and he was halfway back to his and Zeetha’s room when Zeetha caught up with him.
“Mom’s gone to check on Barry,” she announced. “How’s Ash?”
“Got him settled,” he answered. “Got him on an IV. Should be okay in the morning.”
She nodded and hugged him. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“What for?” he asked, leaning into the hug. “Didn’t do much. Was all you three.”
She shook her head. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Merge makes us all much stronger; our souls augment each other. Without you as the vessel... we never would have made it to Ash in time, and we couldn’t have put the fire out any better than we did Brady’s. And you did get us into the panic room.”
He sighed a little and accepted that as best he could. Still didn’t feel like much.
Maybe not, she replied through the merge-link. But no matter what it felt like, it was everything. Ash is alive because of you, Dean.
That was easier to accept, and he nodded.
She rubbed his back. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep while we can.”
He nodded again and let her steer him into their room, but he barely managed to get his boots off before sleep overtook him.
It felt like only minutes later when voices in the hall woke Dean. He frowned a little. What....
They’re back, Zeetha replied groggily.
What time is it?
He felt her shift to look at the clock. Quarter past eight.
He groaned.
I know. Me, too. She burrowed back under the covers.
But before they could fall back asleep, there was a knock at the door, followed by it opening with a quiet “Dean?”
Dean sighed heavily. “Hey, Sammy.”
Sam came further into the room. “Sorry to get you up, but Ellen has to go right back to Beetleburg to meet with the police about the fire, and she wants to take Ash with her, so....”
Dean and Zeetha both groaned this time but sat up. “How’s Ash?” Zeetha asked.
“Better,” Sam reported. “Still pretty weak, but Gil said they got two bags of saline solution into him. His temperature’s back to normal, and he’s able to drink on his own. They’re gonna stay with the Clays until the Roadhouse is rebuilt. Klaus and Zanta are at the mansion; she should be back before long.”
Dean nodded. “Good. Good. Heard from Jess?”
“Called her as soon as we got in. She said a lot of the kids had nightmares last night-Azazel’s still trying to get them to fight each other.”
Zeetha swore quietly.
“Yeah. Good news is, none of them actually remembered where they were, so Azazel hasn’t found them yet.”
That was all the incentive Dean needed to push himself to his feet. “Okay. Sooner we do this, the sooner we gank Azazel, the sooner they can go back to livin’ a normal life, and the sooner Bobby gets his house back.”
Sam chuckled. “Van’s started coffee, and Ardsley said he’d do breakfast this morning.”
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean full English,” Zeetha said. “The only beans I want at this hour are chocolate-covered espresso beans.”
“We’re out of both,” Sam deadpanned.
Dean snorted and clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon.”
Sam ushered them out to the command center, where Agatha was settling Ash in a rolling chair at the map table and Ellen was fussing at him to drink the orange juice she was trying to hand him. Mom, Dad, and Henry were arranging other chairs around the map table, and Tarvek was doing something with the video conferencing workstation that brought up a map on one of the big screens.
“You’re not my real mother!” Ash protested.
“That is beside the point and you know it,” Ellen retorted. “I am your boss, and if you value your job....”
“You do need the sugar, Ash,” Mom noted. “Ringer’s lactate replenishes electrolytes, but I’m sure it’s been quite a while since you ate last.”
“So why can’t I have coffee?” Ash asked.
“Caffeine is a diuretic,” Mom, Ellen, and Agatha chorused, and Ellen put the orange juice in front of Ash and folded her arms.
“Just drink the damn juice, Ash,” Dean grumbled.
Ash sighed and drank the juice.
Once the glass was empty, Tarvek brought Ash the wireless mouse. “Okay, I think this will do what you wanted.”
Ash experimented with moving the mouse first normally, then with the left button held down to draw squiggles with some sort of drawing tool, then right clicked to clear the squiggles and nodded in satisfaction. “Thanks, man.”
Gil, Van, and Ardsley came in at that point with what Ardsley insisted was a tea trolley, loaded with coffee and plates of toast, fried eggs, and bacon, plus a bottle of water for Ash. Ellen quickly made Ash a bacon sandwich that he ate while everyone else served themselves, and he was finished and ready to present by the time the rest of the group was seated.
“Okay, so,” Ash began. “Tarvek asked me to check satellite photos to see if I could find what he thought Sam Colt had been doin’ out in Wyoming. First thing I found was what looks like the remains of Sunrise here.” He circled the place on the map with the mouse. “’Bout seventy miles northwest o’ there is an old cowboy cemetery.” He circled a point already marked on the digital map as Fossil Butte Cemetery. “Fifty miles on all sides o’ that cemetery are five churches.” These he marked with Xs. “An’ between those churches, there’s a set o’ private rail lines.” He traced those lines with the mouse, and although his drawing was shaky, the shape was still plain enough: a five-pointed star.
“A devil’s trap,” Sam observed.
“Got it in one.”
Dean frowned. “Was Colt trying to keep demons out or something else in?”
“That was my question,” Ash replied and leaned back in his chair. “So I asked some o’ the old-timers last night what they’d heard about Fossil Butte. Turns out, the answer is both.”
“Why? What’s in the cemetery?”
“Dead center, there’s a crypt-only the story is, that ain’t no crypt. They called it the Devil’s Gate.”
Gil straightened and looked at Tarvek. “Devil’s Gate-wasn’t there something in Colt’s journal about that?”
Tarvek nodded. “Wish I’d brought it with me. There was a diagram of some kind of locking mechanism, and he said... what was it? ‘The only key I trust with my life, for it brings only death to demons.’ Or something like that.”
Dean sat forward. “What did the keyhole look like?”
Tarvek closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought, but Agatha answered, “The shape was regular except for a notch at the top. It was round, but the outside was octagonal, almost like....”
“Like this?” Zanta asked, appearing at the head of the table with the Colt in her outstretched hands.
“Of course,” Sam breathed. “That’s why the plan had to go into overdrive once the demons had the fake Colt but not me. If those rail lines are still intact....”
“It stands to reason,” Dad said. “Never heard of any demonic activity in that area. Have you, Ellen?”
Ellen shook her head. “Not a thing.”
Gil looked up at Zanta as she handed the Colt to Dean. “That’s why you had Dad go to the mansion with you, isn’t it? The safe’s charmed to open only to a human’s touch.”
Zanta smiled a little and nodded once. “Yes, my son.”
“So Azazel’s doing the same thing,” Henry said. “A full-blooded demon can’t cross those rail lines to get anywhere near Fossil Butte.”
Sam nodded. “But a human infected with demon blood can, and the blood gives Azazel extra leverage on top of whatever promises or threats he might make. So the problem now is how to stop him from getting one of the other kids to carry out his orders, whether the rest survive or not.”
“Agreed. The gun he has shouldn’t open the Devil’s Gate, but we can’t afford to let him figure that out. If he concludes that we have the real one, he’s likely to start killing again to draw us out.”
Tarvek nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and leaned back. “I think I’ve got a plan.”
Next
* Let’s go
Chapter 3
Ashes
The dark cloud pursued the hunter caravan as far as the highway, but the fact that it didn’t continue to follow them toward Sioux Falls didn’t give anyone cause to relax. None of the Winchesters felt like talking, and DZ didn’t turn on the radio in order to prevent distractions in case of another attack. The hunters stopped for gas and food around nightfall, but even that stop was as brief as possible. It was still after midnight when they rolled into the driveway of Singer Salvage Yard, and most of the passengers had fallen asleep.
“Don’t know how in the hell I’m s’posed to fit forty people into my house,” Bobby grouched as Dean and Zeetha unmerged and started helping roust passengers out of the van. “Wasn’t another safe house any closer to Cold Oak, but....”
“We could stay in town,” Dean offered.
Bobby shook his head. “No, we’ll work somethin’ out. Ain’t likely anything can breach the new wards Her Majesty put on the place after that mess with Lucrezia. Motel won’t be near as safe. Which reminds me, John,” he added as Mom and Dad joined them. “I called the sheriff ’bout these kids, since so many of ’em’s been reported missin’. Story we’re goin’ with is they were kidnapped by some whackadoo cult. Sheriff said she’ll be here in ten minutes or so.”
Dad nodded slowly. He’d shaved off his beard since March, but that hadn’t changed his appearance nearly enough to fool even a moderately attentive peace officer-and Bobby had mentioned in the past that Sheriff Jody Mills was sharper than most. “Think I should hide in the basement?”
“No, gonna have to have some o’ these kids bed down on the floor down there, so she might go down to talk to them. But I don’t think she’ll pay much attention to the workshop.”
Dad nodded his agreement and checked his watch, as did Dean. Then discussion turned to who should sleep where and how to get enough groceries to feed all of Bobby’s unexpected guests, and that plus the process of getting everybody into the house and starting to clear enough floor space for sleeping consumed most of the next nine minutes. Dean, who was pulling bedding out of the hall closet to hand out for bedrolls, paused to check his watch again and shouted a time warning to Dad, who waved back and went to the workshop with Mom and Klaus in tow.
Exactly one minute later, there was a knock on the front door. Violetta answered it and led a dark-haired, uniformed woman through the crowded hall to the living room, making sure she walked directly under the devil’s trap that was still on the ceiling from when Bobby had painted it to trap Lucrezia. The woman didn’t even break her stride when she reached the edge of the trap, and Dean relaxed a little and carried his current armload of bedding over to the desk to start sorting through.
“You weren’t joking about the college kids, were you, Singer?” the woman asked rhetorically as Bobby came out of the kitchen. “I didn’t think you sounded drunk, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.”
“Thanks for comin’ anyway, Sheriff,” Bobby replied and shook her hand. “Sorry to get you out so late, but I do appreciate you comin’ yourself.”
Sheriff Mills shrugged. “Part of the job.”
“We’ve been workin’ on gettin’ a list of names an’ addresses, but I’m sure you’ll want to verify with photo ID.”
“And get statements from everyone, right. We can work out how to get everyone home in the morning.”
“Excuse me, Sheriff,” Tarvek interrupted, “but it might be wiser to wait a few days before sending people home, just to be sure the cultists have been apprehended. The kidnappers obviously know where all of these people live, and there’s a good chance they’ll either strike again or try to eliminate all the witnesses.”
Sheriff Mills frowned. “You think they’ve got that kind of organization?”
“Had to have. How else could they have taken so many kids from all over the country, all at the same time?”
That gave Dean an idea, which he promptly shared with Zeetha and Gil.
Could work, Zeetha agreed from somewhere upstairs. Sounds like a job for Henry and Ardsley.
We might need Ash and Colette to plant more of a digital trail, Gil noted from the kitchen, where he was helping Henry take inventory. But yeah, I think it’s feasible.
As if on cue, Ardsley wandered over to join Bobby’s conversation. “Forgive me, Sheriff, but had you heard about the mass murder in Colorado a few days ago?”
Sheriff Mills startled. “Well, yeah. It’s been all over the news tonight.”
“Manning’s not exactly a large town, is it?”
“Not exactly a ghost town, either.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. She was smart.
“Granted,” Tarvek said, “but excluding Elkins, the murders occurred in a barn isolated enough that no one would hear anything, and some of the victims had been kidnapped from the surrounding area, right?”
Ardsley nodded. “I suspect there might be evidence at the scenes of these kidnappings”-he gestured around to indicate the kids in the house-“and at Cold Oak that’s similar, if not identical, to what was found at that crime scene.”
Sheriff Mills raised her chin and paused a moment before replying. “Would you boy detectives mind allowing me to do my job?” she asked irritably, but something about her tone told Dean she’d definitely be considering the theory.
Tarvek and Ardsley both raised their hands in surrender and walked off in opposite directions, and Bobby started talking strategy with Sheriff Mills.
Couldn’t have done that better ourselves, Gil thought, amused.
“Ready with these?” Tarvek asked as he walked over to Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean replied. “Takin’ this bunch to the basement?”
“If Jess and Colette have the space cleared, yes.”
Dean nodded and let Tarvek take half the stack, then bundled up the rest in his own arms and followed Tarvek down the basement stairs.
Once they were out of earshot of any of the kids, Tarvek said quietly, “Haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. There are hints in Colt’s journal that he was doing something significant near a town called Sunrise, Wyoming, in the late 1850s or early 1860s. He chose his words very carefully, and since we don’t have the original, there’s no way of testing whether there’s anything more explicit hidden between the pages or anything like that. Before we left, though, I asked Ash to look into it. He said he’d call back if he found anything.”
Dean frowned as Colette took his armload of bedding. “Sunrise, Wyoming? Never heard of it.”
“Not many people have. Agatha couldn’t even find anything about it in Sinclair’s books before we had to leave. Judging from the end of the journal, though, the reason Colt went back to Connecticut in 1861 was that Sunrise got burned out-possibly by Indians, but more likely by demons.”
“He didn’t know for sure?”
“No, apparently he was living in a cabin twenty miles out of town. Oh, and one other detail: there was a wannabe hunter in Sunrise. Colt wouldn’t give him the time of day until he’d finished whatever he was doing out there, but he did mention a name.”
“Oh?”
“‘Slick Jim’ Elkins.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Didn’t Henry say the Colt had been in the hands of the Elkins family....”
“Since 1861. Yes. Elkins and a woman named Darla managed to survive whatever happened to the town, and Colt said something about giving them the gun when he left because the demons wouldn’t expect him to part with it.”
“So the demons do want the Colt for some reason.”
Tarvek shrugged.
“Allons-y,”* Colette interrupted firmly. “We have workbenches to move out of the way and materials and weapons to hide before anyone comes down here.”
Dean and Tarvek shared a look and got to work.
The DuMedds and the Wulfenbachs also came down at that point, so it took only about half an hour to get the basement presentable enough for overnight. When Colette finally dismissed Dean, he found Sam, Van, and Ardsley still upstairs helping Ellen and Rufus herd cats. Zeetha came down from the guest room and reported that Sheriff Mills, who’d set up shop up there, had gotten about half of the statements she needed so far, so the kids who’d already given their statements were free to go downstairs to sleep, and the Adventure Club was free to organize a Walmart run.
As Van and Ardsley went to start ushering people downstairs and Ellen sent the next kid up to talk to the sheriff, Henry came over waving a clipboard. “We’re liable to clean out the store if we buy everything at once. Even just getting enough for overnight is going to be more than one vehicle can hold, I suspect-food, clothes, toiletries, sanitary supplies, medicines....”
“We’ve got three diabetics who need insulin pretty urgently,” Sam noted. “Sheriff Mills already called for a deputy to give them a ride to the hospital.”
“Plus three vegetarians and a... vegan?”
“Extreme vegetarian,” Dean explained.
“Oh, like George Bernard Shaw.”
“I... guess?” Dean looked to Sam for help. He knew the name, and of course he’d read Pygmalion and watched My Fair Lady in high school, but he didn’t know anything about Shaw personally.
Sam, misreading the look completely, rolled his eyes.
Gil, Agatha, and Tarvek joined them at that point. “The point is,” Gil said, “that Bobby doesn’t even have enough food for our families, let alone everyone else. Theo’s gone to volunteer to drive the diabetics to the hospital and meet the deputy there, and Van, Ardsley, and the girls are still busy downstairs. The rest of us need to divvy up the list and figure out what we need soonest, what we can get at this time of night, and how many of us it’s going to take to get those things in one trip without raising any suspicions.”
“Good excuse to get Mom and Dad out of sight,” Dean noted.
Sam frowned. “They don’t have any credit cards, remember? We had to cancel all of Dad’s after his so-called suicide.”
“Yeah, but they can help carry stuff.”
Sam conceded with a tilt of the head.
“It might be easier to discuss this outside,” Tarvek observed as Theo and his passengers pushed past.
Agatha nodded. “You guys get your parents and Uncle Klaus. We’ll meet you by the cars.”
Dean nodded back and looked at Sam, who followed him out the back door and to the workshop. “It’s us,” Dean announced as the brothers rounded the blind side of the workshop at the same time Theo drove off.
“Boys,” Dad acknowledged. “Was that the sheriff who just left?”
“No, not yet. Theo had to take a couple kids to the hospital.” When Klaus shifted in alarm, Dean added, “For meds. Nobody’s fighting.”
Klaus huffed in relief and relaxed.
“We’re about to head to Walmart,” Sam explained. “Wondered if you’d want to come with us.”
Dad grimaced. “Could be recognized.”
“It’s not likely at this hour,” Mom countered, “and it would be a better use of our time than standing around out here with nothing to do but tell war stories.”
Dad huffed but didn’t argue.
“I’ll see you there,” said Klaus and walked off toward the cars.
Sam and Dean turned to follow, but Mom said, “Boys-Sam-before we go, we wanted to talk to you privately for a moment.”
The brothers looked at each other and turned back. “Sure, Mom,” Sam replied. “What’s up?”
Mom nudged Dad, who said, “Next time, don’t wait so long to get the civilians out of range.”
Sam bristled.
“What your father means,” Mom said with a quick sideways glare at Dad, “is that we’re very proud of the way you handled the situation. You did everything you could to keep everyone calm, and you didn’t reach for a weapon even when you were attacked.”
Sam shot Dean a brief look of surprise and took a deep breath. “I trusted my family to have my back.”
Dad bristled at that.
“As well you should,” Mom replied and looked at Dean. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for the help when that boy tried to make me shoot myself.”
Dean ducked his head. “It was Violetta who killed him.”
“But if she hadn’t, that shield would have saved my life.”
But Dean knew what Dad would say. “I shoulda been faster. Shoulda been the first thing I did.”
Mom’s glare at Dad wasn’t fleeting this time.
And Dad sighed. “No, Dean, I should have shot him myself. If you’d acted sooner, you would only have given away the fact that she meant something to you, and the others would have singled her out to attack to make us back down.”
Knowing that was the closest thing to praise he’d ever get from Dad, Dean nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Before the conversation could continue, however, Dean’s phone rang. To his surprise, the display showed the number for the Roadhouse. He sent an attention-getting signal to the twins, who jogged over with Agatha and Tarvek in tow, and answered.
“Dean?” Ash asked quietly, like he didn’t want to be overheard but hadn’t expected Dean to answer.
“Yeah, Ash. ’Sup?”
“Oh.” Ash swore. “Sorry, thought I’s callin’ Tarvek.”
“It’s fine. Tarvek’s right here. Whatcha got?”
“Somethin’ huge, compadre. He was right.”
“Hold on, lemme put you on speaker.”
“No. No, I cain’t... cain’t tell you on the phone. How soon can you get here?”
Dean blinked. “Dude, we’ve been drivin’ all day. Even if we left now, it’s at least five hours from Bobby’s.”
“Five hours,” Ash repeated nervously. “Five hours. Okay, okay... ’s only an hour to closin’....”
Dean huffed. “Just close early, go down in the panic room, and call back. We’re at Bobby’s. Zanta warded this place tighter’n Fort Knox after they got Lucrezia trapped.”
“I cain’t talk on this line, Dean! I’s a damn fool for startin’ the research above ground in the first-” Ash suddenly broke off with a curse and a rattle of metal.
“Ash?”
There was a whompf-screams-a clang-the thock of a sliding bolt being thrown-static-
“ASH?!”
The line went dead.
Dean looked in horror at Gil and Zeetha, who looked just as horrified. They’d heard; of course they’d heard.
“We’ll get there faster merged,” said Gil and handed his keys to Tarvek.
But before Dean could agree, Agatha raised a finger to him and her phone to her ear. He tossed his keys to Sam as she said, “Uncle Barry? ... Sorry to wake you. ... We may be stopping by in the next hour. You probably won’t hear us come in. ... Okay, just wanted to let you know. Love you.” She hung up, pocketed her phone, and nodded to Dean as she lowered her finger.
“Say that again?” Dean prompted.
“We’ll get there faster merged,” Gil repeated.
“Yes.”
Dean barely had time to be surprised that Gil and Agatha didn’t merge with each other first before they and Zeetha were slamming into him, his body shifting and stretching more than usual to accommodate the mass of two extra people. He barely had time to register that he wasn’t in the driver’s seat of the Impala-shaped vessel space this time before they were outside the Roadhouse.
And the Roadhouse was burning.
Dean swore, but in the driver’s seat, Gil already had the CB mike in his hand and was shouting Enochian spells with their shared voice. One sounded like a protection spell; one Dean recognized as an exorcism. Then Gil handed the mike to Agatha, and while Gil and Zeetha started wielding their elemental powers against the fire, Agatha chanted something else that wasn’t even Enochian. With a loud clap of thunder, rain started pouring on the building and the parking lot, extinguishing flames and healing the burns of the people who’d managed to make it out alive. But the fire seemed to be fighting back, and part of the roof collapsed.
It’s demon fire, Zeetha explained before Dean could ask. And the alcohol’s fueling it. Agatha-
Agatha pressed the button on the mike again and chanted in Latin. This time Dean recognized it vaguely as the exorcism of water that was used to make holy water. The fire roared like a living thing as the blessed rain beat down on it and the twins’ power forced it into a more contained area, yet slowly but surely, they succeeded in putting it out. An extra downburst ensured that any remaining hotspots were well doused and wouldn’t rekindle the flames.
You see Ash anywhere? Dean asked as Agatha handed the mike back to Gil.
Gil shook his head. No.
It sounded like he’d jumped into the panic room, Zeetha noted.
Dean nodded once. All right, move.
Faster than a blink of an eye, Dean and Gil switched positions. Dean threw a shield around them, put their body in gear, and charged into the smoking ruin of the bar, calling for Ash. There were no bodies in the main room; apparently all the patrons had still been sober enough to run, which was surprising at this hour. But there was no sign of Ash until they finally reached the entrance to the panic room, which was hidden in a storeroom. The heavily-warded padlock was open, but the iron hatch itself was shut, and when Dean tugged on it experimentally, it rattled but wouldn’t open.
“Ash?” he called, but there was no answer.
Well, at least we know he made it this far, Gil noted. Can we pass the wards without opening the hatch?
“Yeah, I think so.”
Dean relocked the hatch with the padlock and jumped straight down into the panic room, which was hot and somewhat smoky, though less so than the rest of the building. The PC workstation Ash had set up for video conferencing and administering the Adventure Club’s private network was off, and Dean couldn’t tell whether it had sustained any heat damage. But Ash himself, clutching a stack of papers to his chest, had collapsed in front of a second hatch that Dean assumed led down to a server room; with or without a separate air conditioner, the mere fact that that room was further underground would mean it would be cooler. Ash’s skin looked beet red, and he wasn’t sweating, but the papers were rising and falling slightly, and behind them Dean could just barely make out the glow of Ash’s soul.
He’s alive, Zeetha gasped.
“Gotta get him outta here,” Dean replied, gingerly gathered their unconscious friend into their arms, and jumped again to the Wulfenbachs’ house in town, landing in the den and settling Ash on the couch.
Then and only then did the four of them unmerge.
“Why here?” Zeetha asked and turned on the lights with a wave of her hand.
“Closest to the kitchen,” Dean replied, sliding the papers out of Ash’s grasp and setting them on the coffee table. “We can start icin’ ’im down now while Ags gets an ice bath-”
“What happened?” a pajama-clad Barry Heterodyne demanded from the doorway.
“Heat stroke,” Gil explained, ripping open Ash’s shirt.
“Move.”
Dean and Gil barely had time to step back before Barry was kneeling in front of the couch, eyes and hands glowing blue. He put one hand on Ash’s chest and one behind Ash’s neck, closed his eyes, and began to hum. The redness slowly leached out of Ash’s skin and into Barry’s hands; Ash’s breathing slowed and deepened, and the fine sweat of a broken fever broke out on his face and chest. Agatha ran to the kitchen for a wet washrag, and by the time she got back with it, Ash was stirring a little with a slight groan.
“Easy, Ash,” Agatha whispered, kneeling beside Barry to wash Ash’s face. “Just take it easy. You’ll be all right.”
Zeetha jogged off toward the kitchen herself.
“Whrr’m Ah?” Ash mumbled hoarsely, frowning a little but not yet opening his eyes.
“You’re at our place,” Gil replied.
The frown deepened. “Wolfman?”
“Yeah, dude.”
“Wh’zat noise?”
“That’s my Uncle Barry,” Agatha explained. “He’s healing you. I think he’s almost finished.”
Barry stopped humming and slumped against the coffee table, panting. “That’s... about all I can do, anyway. He’s out of danger.”
Zeetha came back with two bottles of cold Gatorade. One she opened and handed to Barry, who nodded his thanks. “Think you can drink something, Ash?” she asked, opening the other bottle.
“’Sit PBR?” Ash asked.
“Not until you’re recovered. Alcohol would only dehydrate you worse.”
Ash grumbled under his breath. But Gil and Agatha eased him more upright, and Agatha took the Gatorade from Zeetha and helped Ash drink a little. Zeetha in turn took the rag, pulled the long part of Ash’s mullet out of the way, and started washing the back of his neck-and his chin when he choked on too big a sip and some of the liquid spilled past his lips when he coughed.
“Take it slow, dude,” Dean said. “That was a damn close call.”
Barry swallowed his own mouthful of Gatorade and nodded. “Too close. Your core temp was over 105°. You were minutes away from irreversible brain damage.”
Ash swore quietly.
“What was it you did, Uncle Barry?” Gil asked as Barry took another drink.
Barry smiled wanly. “Heat sink. Water’s got a high specific heat; I can draw off a fever without overheating too much myself.”
Dean’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “D’you learn that from....” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of Cuthbert Sinclair’s mansion.
Barry shook his head. “In the hospital. Sun figured it would help me recover faster to find ways to use my powers to help people.”
Ash swallowed another sip, coughed, and asked, “Papers?”
“We got ’em,” Dean assured him.
“Roadhouse?”
“We got the fire out. Everybody else made it out alive. Lot of damage, but the building’s still standing.”
Ash sighed and relaxed, then started coughing again, more deeply.
“Here,” Gil said and put one hand, glowing green, on Ash’s chest.
Ash coughed, gagged, and spat a huge glob of black ooze into the trash can that Agatha held up for him. “What was that?” he gasped.
“The smoke you inhaled,” Gil replied. “You should be breathing easier in a few seconds.”
Ash hauled in a few deeper breaths, relaxed again, and finally opened his eyes to look around at them. “Thanks, y’all.”
“Anytime,” the Winchesters and Wulfenbachs chorused, and Gil took his hand off Ash’s chest.
Then Zeetha looked at Dean and pulled out her cell phone. “I should call Ellen.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, and I should call Sam.”
“Guess that leaves me to call Bobby and Dad,” Gil said.
Dean nodded again, and the three of them went from the den to the kitchen, where Zeetha tossed the rag into the sink, and spread out from there into adjoining rooms to make their calls and bring everyone up to speed. Sam reported that Colette, Violetta, Jess, and the DuMedds had volunteered to stay behind and help Bobby and Rufus with the rescuees, but everyone else was already en route to Beetleburg, with Tarvek driving Gil’s car for reasons Dean couldn’t fathom.
Ash and Barry both looked better when Dean and the twins came back into the den. “So, Ash,” Dean said. “Why don’t you tell us what you found?”
Ash shook his head. “Ain’t safe.”
“Dude, this house is warded to the roof.”
“So’s the Roadhouse. ’Sides, I ain’t up to tellin’ it more’n once.”
“Ash....”
“Dean, I ain’t tellin’ nothin’ to nobody ’cept in front of Her Majesty.”
Dean and Gil exchanged a look. “You want us to bring Mom here,” Gil asked, “or you want us to take you to the bunker?”
“Bunker,” Ash said firmly. “No offense, amigo, but I don’t wanna get your house burned down, too.”
Dean and Gil exchanged another look and sighed heavily at the same time. They were all more tired than they wanted to admit, but Ash did have a point.
“They’ll be here by dawn,” Agatha noted.
“Yeah,” Gil said, “but four hours is a long time, and anything could happen on the road between there and here or between here and the bunker. Full moon, after all; can’t take chances. We can let Ash sleep in the infirmary for tonight.”
Agatha conceded with a grimace and turned to Barry while Zeetha handed the papers back to Ash. “Sorry it was this sort of visit, Uncle Barry,” Agatha said and hugged him.
“That’s all right, sweetheart,” Barry replied, returning the hug. “Glad I was able to help, and it was good to see you.”
“I’ll call you when I can.”
“Sounds good. Be safe.”
“You, too.”
Dean quickly called Sam to let him know of the change in plan, and Sam promised to relay it to the rest of the caravan.
“Ready?” Gil asked as Dean hung up.
Dean slid his phone into his pocket, took a deep breath, let it out again, and nodded. “Yes.”
The merge didn’t feel quite so violent this time, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was looking down at a wide-eyed Ash and Barry.
“That is freaky,” Ash drawled.
“Get used to it,” Dean shot back. Then he scooped Ash up again, nodded to Barry, and jumped back to the bunker’s front door.
Only then did he remember that Sam had his keys.
I’ll get it, Agatha offered, and they unmerged, leaving Dean and Gil carrying Ash between them while Agatha unlocked the door and Zeetha brought up the rear.
“You sure I ain’t hallucinatin’?” Ash asked as Dean and Gil carted him inside.
“Positive,” they chorused.
As Zeetha went to debrief to Zanta, Dean and Gil hauled Ash down to the infirmary, where Agatha got him set up with an IV saline drip. Then she hugged Dean and shooed him out with strict orders to go sleep, and he was halfway back to his and Zeetha’s room when Zeetha caught up with him.
“Mom’s gone to check on Barry,” she announced. “How’s Ash?”
“Got him settled,” he answered. “Got him on an IV. Should be okay in the morning.”
She nodded and hugged him. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“What for?” he asked, leaning into the hug. “Didn’t do much. Was all you three.”
She shook her head. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Merge makes us all much stronger; our souls augment each other. Without you as the vessel... we never would have made it to Ash in time, and we couldn’t have put the fire out any better than we did Brady’s. And you did get us into the panic room.”
He sighed a little and accepted that as best he could. Still didn’t feel like much.
Maybe not, she replied through the merge-link. But no matter what it felt like, it was everything. Ash is alive because of you, Dean.
That was easier to accept, and he nodded.
She rubbed his back. “C’mon. Let’s get some sleep while we can.”
He nodded again and let her steer him into their room, but he barely managed to get his boots off before sleep overtook him.
It felt like only minutes later when voices in the hall woke Dean. He frowned a little. What....
They’re back, Zeetha replied groggily.
What time is it?
He felt her shift to look at the clock. Quarter past eight.
He groaned.
I know. Me, too. She burrowed back under the covers.
But before they could fall back asleep, there was a knock at the door, followed by it opening with a quiet “Dean?”
Dean sighed heavily. “Hey, Sammy.”
Sam came further into the room. “Sorry to get you up, but Ellen has to go right back to Beetleburg to meet with the police about the fire, and she wants to take Ash with her, so....”
Dean and Zeetha both groaned this time but sat up. “How’s Ash?” Zeetha asked.
“Better,” Sam reported. “Still pretty weak, but Gil said they got two bags of saline solution into him. His temperature’s back to normal, and he’s able to drink on his own. They’re gonna stay with the Clays until the Roadhouse is rebuilt. Klaus and Zanta are at the mansion; she should be back before long.”
Dean nodded. “Good. Good. Heard from Jess?”
“Called her as soon as we got in. She said a lot of the kids had nightmares last night-Azazel’s still trying to get them to fight each other.”
Zeetha swore quietly.
“Yeah. Good news is, none of them actually remembered where they were, so Azazel hasn’t found them yet.”
That was all the incentive Dean needed to push himself to his feet. “Okay. Sooner we do this, the sooner we gank Azazel, the sooner they can go back to livin’ a normal life, and the sooner Bobby gets his house back.”
Sam chuckled. “Van’s started coffee, and Ardsley said he’d do breakfast this morning.”
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean full English,” Zeetha said. “The only beans I want at this hour are chocolate-covered espresso beans.”
“We’re out of both,” Sam deadpanned.
Dean snorted and clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon.”
Sam ushered them out to the command center, where Agatha was settling Ash in a rolling chair at the map table and Ellen was fussing at him to drink the orange juice she was trying to hand him. Mom, Dad, and Henry were arranging other chairs around the map table, and Tarvek was doing something with the video conferencing workstation that brought up a map on one of the big screens.
“You’re not my real mother!” Ash protested.
“That is beside the point and you know it,” Ellen retorted. “I am your boss, and if you value your job....”
“You do need the sugar, Ash,” Mom noted. “Ringer’s lactate replenishes electrolytes, but I’m sure it’s been quite a while since you ate last.”
“So why can’t I have coffee?” Ash asked.
“Caffeine is a diuretic,” Mom, Ellen, and Agatha chorused, and Ellen put the orange juice in front of Ash and folded her arms.
“Just drink the damn juice, Ash,” Dean grumbled.
Ash sighed and drank the juice.
Once the glass was empty, Tarvek brought Ash the wireless mouse. “Okay, I think this will do what you wanted.”
Ash experimented with moving the mouse first normally, then with the left button held down to draw squiggles with some sort of drawing tool, then right clicked to clear the squiggles and nodded in satisfaction. “Thanks, man.”
Gil, Van, and Ardsley came in at that point with what Ardsley insisted was a tea trolley, loaded with coffee and plates of toast, fried eggs, and bacon, plus a bottle of water for Ash. Ellen quickly made Ash a bacon sandwich that he ate while everyone else served themselves, and he was finished and ready to present by the time the rest of the group was seated.
“Okay, so,” Ash began. “Tarvek asked me to check satellite photos to see if I could find what he thought Sam Colt had been doin’ out in Wyoming. First thing I found was what looks like the remains of Sunrise here.” He circled the place on the map with the mouse. “’Bout seventy miles northwest o’ there is an old cowboy cemetery.” He circled a point already marked on the digital map as Fossil Butte Cemetery. “Fifty miles on all sides o’ that cemetery are five churches.” These he marked with Xs. “An’ between those churches, there’s a set o’ private rail lines.” He traced those lines with the mouse, and although his drawing was shaky, the shape was still plain enough: a five-pointed star.
“A devil’s trap,” Sam observed.
“Got it in one.”
Dean frowned. “Was Colt trying to keep demons out or something else in?”
“That was my question,” Ash replied and leaned back in his chair. “So I asked some o’ the old-timers last night what they’d heard about Fossil Butte. Turns out, the answer is both.”
“Why? What’s in the cemetery?”
“Dead center, there’s a crypt-only the story is, that ain’t no crypt. They called it the Devil’s Gate.”
Gil straightened and looked at Tarvek. “Devil’s Gate-wasn’t there something in Colt’s journal about that?”
Tarvek nodded. “Wish I’d brought it with me. There was a diagram of some kind of locking mechanism, and he said... what was it? ‘The only key I trust with my life, for it brings only death to demons.’ Or something like that.”
Dean sat forward. “What did the keyhole look like?”
Tarvek closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought, but Agatha answered, “The shape was regular except for a notch at the top. It was round, but the outside was octagonal, almost like....”
“Like this?” Zanta asked, appearing at the head of the table with the Colt in her outstretched hands.
“Of course,” Sam breathed. “That’s why the plan had to go into overdrive once the demons had the fake Colt but not me. If those rail lines are still intact....”
“It stands to reason,” Dad said. “Never heard of any demonic activity in that area. Have you, Ellen?”
Ellen shook her head. “Not a thing.”
Gil looked up at Zanta as she handed the Colt to Dean. “That’s why you had Dad go to the mansion with you, isn’t it? The safe’s charmed to open only to a human’s touch.”
Zanta smiled a little and nodded once. “Yes, my son.”
“So Azazel’s doing the same thing,” Henry said. “A full-blooded demon can’t cross those rail lines to get anywhere near Fossil Butte.”
Sam nodded. “But a human infected with demon blood can, and the blood gives Azazel extra leverage on top of whatever promises or threats he might make. So the problem now is how to stop him from getting one of the other kids to carry out his orders, whether the rest survive or not.”
“Agreed. The gun he has shouldn’t open the Devil’s Gate, but we can’t afford to let him figure that out. If he concludes that we have the real one, he’s likely to start killing again to draw us out.”
Tarvek nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and leaned back. “I think I’ve got a plan.”
Next
* Let’s go