BB ch4
Instinctively, both of us put our hands out, palms forward in a ‘we’re not here to hurt you’ gesture. The kids didn’t put the guns down, though. The older one, a girl around thirteen or so, spoke first. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”
I cleared my throat and spoke up, hands still out in front of me. “We’re just traveling, kid, heard the lights might still be on out this way, wanted to check it out. That’s all. We didn’t come here to hurt anyone, honest.”
Dean followed that up with, “It’s nice to see some other faces, even though they’re not exactly friendly.” He threw out one of his trademark grins, and the younger child, a boy who didn’t look to be much older than eight, seemed to relax marginally.
The girl shot back, “You would have taken things from this house if it was empty.”
I figured there was no reason to lie. “Yeah, we would. Most houses we find are empty, and it’s not like people can just go to the grocery store anymore. I kind of figured that’s what most people do. I guess not here, though.”
“No. Not here.” She lowered the rifle, though. “I’m gonna take you to meet Miss Patricia and you can talk to her. If you’re just passing through, we might be able to help you.”
So the kids weren’t on their own. There were more people here in this town. Dean was clearly as curious as I was. “All right, we’ll go wherever you want us to go, just don’t shoot us, okay?”
The boy piped up then. “We’re not gonna shoot you.”
“Hush, Max. Let’s just go.”
The four of us left by the back door and crossed a couple of lawns that almost certainly used to be well-manicured. Dean and I followed Max and his yet-to-be-introduced friend (sister maybe?). Within five minutes, we stepped onto the front porch of a small ranch house with vinyl siding and a wooden swing. The girl knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting to be invited in.
The first thing that hit us was the smell. Food. Food being cooked. Something with tomatoes and garlic and Jesus, it had been a long time since I had experienced that, and Dean was almost drooling.
The little girl’s shout knocked us out of our temporary bliss. “Miss Patricia! I got people here! Two guys! Come see!”
I heard the woman before I saw her, muttering from the next room. “Now, Amy, what’s all this fuss-” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw us. I didn’t blame her, honestly. It was obvious that they didn’t see strangers often, and here were two very large male strangers in the company of these two very small children. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was of average height, slim, a little gray hair but not much, maybe in her mid-forties, I guessed, and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Go into the kitchen, you two. Let me talk to your new friends.” Her tone was hard, her emphasis on the word ‘friends’ cutting and sarcastic. The kids made themselves scarce and she motioned to the couch, clearly directing us to sit. Which we did, immediately.
“What do you want here?” Her question required an immediate answer, and we told her basically the same thing we’d told the kids, which was the truth.
“We almost never see people, ma’am”, I offered. “Looks like there’s a community here in this town. We didn’t know. Figured it would just be deserted just like every other place we’ve been. We didn’t come to cause any trouble. If you want us to leave, we’re gone, just say the word.” I regretted it, my thoughts still lingering back to that whole cooking food thing.
“Are you armed?”
Dean answered that one. “We’ve got weapons in our car. It’s fairly reasonable, I think. But no, nothing on us.”
“I have a pocketknife”, I supplied, trying to be as transparent and non-threatening as possible. “In my jacket. You can take it if you want.”
“No need. Keep it. We don’t get a lot of visitors, you’re right, this place is barely on the map. That’s probably what’s kept us safe here, if anyone’s close they tend to just pass on by. But the few of us who were left after…everything…we stayed, made the best of what we had. People have joined us over the past month or so, though. Mostly people intending to pass through, then deciding they wanted to stay. We don’t turn people away unless they’re dangerous. I’m pretty damn good at spotting dangerous when I see it, and you two look like you’re just pretty damn near the end of the line.”
“I guess you could say that”, Dean responded, quietly. “Been a long time since we’ve seen anyone’s face but each other’s”, he added with a smile, reaching out to touch my arm gently. The woman picked up on the contact immediately and made no comment other than the slight raise of one eyebrow.
“Tell you what, I’ll introduce you to some of the others, you can stay for dinner, decide if you want to get back on the road after that. Sound fair?”
Fair? If there was anything good or holy left on this earth, the words “stay for dinner” were definitely among them.
“Thank you, ma’am. Thanks so much. It’s really generous-”
She cut me off there. “It’s Patricia, not ma’am. And maybe the two of you ought to introduce yourselves.”
Well, this was it. Dean and I looked at each other and decided we’d just do it, even though she had clearly already picked up on our affection. “I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean.”
All right, so that one got both eyebrows raised. “Sorry guys, I figured you were, you know, together, like, together, didn’t realize you were family.”
Shockingly, Dean was the one who responded to that comment. “We’re both. If that’s not okay, we can go now, I’ll understand, this isn’t the kind of thing most people approve of.”
Sighing heavily and shaking her head, she said, “What’s left of us here, we ain’t most people, boys. Most people are dead, remember?”
And yeah, we did remember.
I gathered enough courage to ask the question that had been poking my brain for the past few minutes. “If you don’t mind me asking, ma-, Patricia, how many people live here? In this town, I mean, in your community?”
Her response almost knocked me unconscious. “Sixty-four, including kids. We had sixty-five, but we lost a young woman from complications after childbirth last week.” She sounded like she was used to losing people, but hadn’t yet grown hardened against the experience.
“That many? All in one place? I never imagined…” Dean looked awestruck. “What do you do? How do you-”
“You’ll see. Anyway, we’ll have some company in half an hour or so. It’s your decision whether or not you want to tell anyone anything well, you know, personal about yourselves. I’ve got to get the bread in the oven. There’s plenty of pasta for two extra mouths to feed. You both look a little on the thin side to me.”
With that, she left the two of us alone, sitting on the worn plaid sofa, staring at each other like idiots. There were so many things going through my mind, equally as many going through Dean’s, but the first and foremost was the last thing Patricia had said.
“Food.”
“Cooked food. Real food.”
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over to kiss him, a chaste kiss, but with bad timing. The little girl, Amy, chose that exact moment to enter the room.
“So, are you two, like, gay or whatever? It’s okay, I know about people being gay, I know what it means. No big deal.”
I wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed, but simply answered, “It’s a little more complicated than that, but I guess, yeah.”
“Hmm. You don’t look gay.”
“What does gay look like?” Dean asked her, a smile on his face.
“Uh, you know, like, eyeliner or fancy hair or clean clothes?”
That got a chuckle out of both of us.
“Patricia invited us to stay for dinner. Is that all right with you, Amy?” I asked, genuinely interested in her response.
“It’s fine, you can meet some people. Maybe you’ll be gone before morning, maybe you’ll stay, doesn’t much matter to me. Might matter to some other folks, though. You’ll see.”
With that enigmatic comment, she was gone as quickly as she had appeared.
Relegated to the sofa, and not willing to get up without being asked, Dean and I just sat and waited until we heard a knock on the door. Patricia came out and opened it, welcoming in two men and one woman. One of the men appeared to be in his early sixties, one around our age, and the woman somewhere in between, late-thirties or so. Before they made their way too far into the room, Patricia spoke. “We have some visitors. Just passing through, maybe. Dean and Sam (I wondered if she omitted our last name on purpose), this is Erica, her younger brother Lucas, and their father, Micah. Y’all, Dean and Sam showed up here today, Max and Amy found them and I’ve invited them to stay for dinner.”
Micah was the first to speak, though all three of them still looked a bit suspicious. Not surprising, I guessed. “Nice to meet you two. Where you from?”
Now that wasn’t an easy question to answer, but Dean felt up to the task. “Kansas, sir, originally, but we’ve been traveling for years. Came here from Alabama over the past few weeks.” He stood then, and extended his hand to the man, who shook it without hesitation. The exchange gave me the courage to get up and introduce myself properly to the three people who were examining us.
The young woman spoke next. “So, just staying for the night?”
Patricia broke in there. “Bit soon for questions like that, Erica. Let’s sit down, dinner’s about ready.”
There was an easy air of familiarity about the whole process, Patricia handing Dean and me plates and silverware to set the large table in the dining room, Lucas and Erica setting food on the table, Micah sitting expectantly at the table and the two children teasing each other until they were told to pipe down and take their seats. There was a silence once everyone sat down, and I could tell Dean was nervous that they were about to say grace or something. But Micah just raised his glass of water and welcomed their visitors before they all tucked in to their dinner, Dean and I both trying very hard not to just inhale every bite of pasta with red sauce and fresh baked bread on our plates.
Lucas spoke then, finally. “Been a while, huh? Most folks who end up here have been living on beef jerky and canned soda for a good while.”
“That’s exactly what we’ve been living on”, I responded with a chuckle, between bites. “This is incredible. Thank you, again, I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful we are for this.”
After dinner, Dean and I insisted on washing the dishes. Water was fetched for us by the kids from a well in the back of the house and clearly hand-made soap was provided to us along with a washrag and a hand towel.
By the time we joined the others in the living room, the children had been sent off to bed.
“If y’all want to stay the night, there’s a place down the street. Tiny, but it should do fine for the two of you”, Patricia said, “just for tonight.”
“Thanks so much”, responded Dean. “We’d really appreciate that.”
I couldn’t help myself any longer. “How are you all doing this? I haven’t been able to imagine a group of people this large being able to stick together through everything, in the same place, making things work. There must be a pretty amazing talent pool here.”
Erica laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say we’ve got a fairly widely varied number of skills represented here. Caught on to what was happening early enough to hoard the non-perishables. We grow our own food, mostly vegetables, but there are some orange and tangerine trees we’ve been able to save. Not much meat, because the chickens are better suited to producing eggs, but we get a little now and then. And there’s a beekeeper who’s lived here all his life and made it through…well, you know. Everything. So we get honey for sweetening our food and easing sore throats. He’s almost eighty, but he’s passing on his skills to some of the younger folks. There are a few cows left, we keep them for milk, though, wouldn’t think of sacrificing one for meat when the milk is so much more useful. It wasn’t easy, but a couple of us have learned how to care for those few that we still have.”
I digested all this information as I was digesting the wonderful food we’d been treated to. Right at that moment, I had lots more questions, though. Dean, as he generally was with a full belly, was happy enough to sit and listen.
“So, sixty four people? Right here in this little town? And you’re all…what? Working together? Trying to make a go of…whatever this is, what we’ve got left?”
At that point, Lucas spoke again. “You said ‘we’. Like, you know, like you were one of us.”
“Sorry, Lucas, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous. I just meant we, like, whoever is still alive.”
Micah responded in all honesty, “It’s all right. Not like we couldn’t use a couple of more able-bodied young men around here, if the two of you do decide you want to stay. So, you two obviously didn’t just meet up on the road. What’s the story there? Known each other long?”
Again, the question. And just like we’d agreed before we had gotten there, the answer would be the truth. “We’re brothers, sir. Known each other since Sam here was born when I was four years old. But…” His courage seemed to run out there. I was happy to take the lead.
“We’re, uh…we’re together. You know. Together.” I demonstrated by holding onto Dean’s hand, which he didn’t pull away.
For just a minute or two, there was complete silence in the room. Patricia decided to break it. “I already knew, they told me as soon as they got here. If anyone’s got something to say, go on ahead and say it.”
Micah looked troubled, staring at our joined hands and clearly having something to say, but not following Patricia’s instructions. Erica and Lucas looked at each other, a brother and sister obviously considering the stigma of incest, but quickly recovered. “Look, it’s not our place to judge. You’re grown men, you do what you want, it’s nobody’s business unless you want it to be.”
Patricia broke into the conversation at that point. “Look, it’s getting late. Lucas, will you show these two down to the old Ramirez place, please? Let them get their car and show them around, and we’ll revisit this in the morning, after Dean and Sam here have had some time to talk, and think. All right?”
“Sure thing. I’ll follow you to your car, how far is it?”
“Couple of blocks, maybe”, Dean supplied, clearly a bit apprehensive. I touched his shoulder gently. “It’s all right, Dean. Let’s just go, okay?”
After another hearty round of hand-shaking and expressions of sincere gratitude, Lucas followed us to the NotImpala, even getting into the cluttered backseat, giving us directions to a place three blocks away. We pulled up in front of a tiny house with peeling white shingles and a falling-down fence around the front yard. We grabbed our bags and followed him to the front door as he walked inside and, easy as pie, flicked a switch that flooded the small front room with electric light. “Mr. Ramirez lived here alone, it’s not much of a place, but you’ll have what you need here. The water heater still works, and there’s a bedroom down that way”, he gestured, “and a bathroom just down the hall. Some houses here still have running water, some don’t, depending on the source, but this one does. You can flush the toilet and everything”, he said with a small smile. “You’ll be okay here for the night, and someone will come around tomorrow to see how you’re doing, if you’re still here.
I was overcome. Just this small measure of kindness was almost incomprehensible. “Lucas, I can’t tell you how grateful we are for all of this. Thanks so much.”
“Yeah, it’s - it’s no problem. Nice to see a new face or two now and then. I’d better get going.” And with that, he was gone, leaving Dean and me alone in this little house, clearly having belonged to someone who was deceased, no telling how recently.
We headed down the hall and, as Lucas had done, touched the light switch in the bedroom. It was still amazing to see a lamp turn on like that after so many months of flashlights and candles. There was a double bed with a nightstand, one closet and a dresser by the bedroom door with a picture of an older Hispanic man surrounded by small children (probably his grandkids, I guessed) at a theme park of some kind. I felt guilty just looking at the photo. Who was this guy? What was his first name? What killed him? What happened to all those kids in the picture, faces covered in ice cream and bliss?
We deposited our bags on the floor and went to see the rest of the house. In the hallway between the front door and the bedroom, we found a bathroom with just the basics - toilet, sink, shower stall, tiny linen closet. Behind the living room was a small galley kitchen with a nook beside it just big enough to hold a round wooden table with four old, unmatching chairs. Clearly, nothing had been taken from this house after the previous resident had passed on. There were still a few plates, glasses, pots and pans in the cabinets. The living room held a worn gray sofa, a well-used recliner, a coffee table, a bookshelf filled with mostly western themed novels, and a pretty high-tech stereo system for a guy who looked to be fairly elderly from his picture.
“So”, I said, finally breaking the silence that had been following us around the house. “I guess we need to talk about all this, huh?”
Dean choked out a small laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do. It’s a lot to take in, though, you know? It’s not like we came here thinking we’d find people, let alone a whole community taking on a ‘let’s start this whole thing over again’ project.”
“I know, but now that we’ve seen it, we know it can be done. At least on a short-term basis. Crowley said some of the folks who were left would find a way to make another go of it, right? Seems like he hasn’t lied to us about anything so far. But this can’t be the only place. There must be others like it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure there are. And I know how much you want to be a part of something. Anything. There’s lots of stuff we know, Sam, so many things we can do. It’s only been one night, but the people here have been so fucking kind, even after we told them, you know, about…us, about - what we have. If we stay, we could help them as much as they’d be helping us. We’re not just dead weight, we wouldn’t be a drain or anything, and driving aimlessly around the country isn’t going to get us anywhere but more lost than we already are.”
For a moment, I just studied the look on Dean’s face. He’d been staring at the wall while he was talking, not looking at me, but I could see it right then more clearly than I’d been able to see it for months. Dean was tired. Not sleep-deprived, but tired. To me, it looked like he was done with just wandering, never knowing what the next day or hour would bring. I had always thought I’d get there first, but here I was, wrong again. Dean wanted to stop.
“All right, then. Let’s get a good night of rest, and tomorrow we’ll talk to Patricia about it, maybe Micah, see what really is going on here, what they have planned. And whether or not they really want two more people to join them, though I think it was pretty clear tonight that they might want us to stay.”
“Sure, but why? They know nothing about us, not a single damn thing except something that ought to have them booting us out on our asses, we’re brothers who are having sex with each other. That’s all they know.”
“But even knowing that, they didn’t boot us out, right? We haven’t got the chance yet to tell them what we can do, the things we know that could help them get by. Maybe that’s another thing Crowley could have been right about, people don’t care about that kind of shit anymore, who’s fucking who, whatever. Things have changed, priorities are different, and I sure haven’t heard a single mention yet about God or the Bible or our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, nothing like that. Hell, for all we know, they could all be atheist by now.”
“I don’t know, Sam. You could be right about that. One thing I’m sure you’re right about, we could both use a good night of real live sleep in an actual bed. Lucas said the water heater still works, so we could even take a shower that’s not fucking freezing or even just tepid. I could sure use one, I felt like a hobo sitting at that dinner table full of sparkly-clean people tonight.”
“Don’t I know it, man, I felt the same way. You wanna try out that shower stall or what?” I asked, eager to steer away from the heavy discussion. It had been a long night, full of new information that made my body feel as exhausted as my brain.
We had our shower, together, you know, so we could conserve water. And have shower sex. Shower sex never got old. Dean on his knees in front of me, sucking me off while he jerked his own cock under the spray of the water, yeah, I’d never get enough of that. But still. We were conserving. Falling into the soft bed of a man who’d lost his life in this shit-show of the current state of the world didn’t help us relax much. I lay behind Dean and held him close, but I could see his eyes dart over to that framed photo of the previous resident and his grandkids more than once. Eventually, though, our fatigue took over and we both slept deeply.
We both woke early, Dean before me, and I was surprised to open my eyes and deeply breathe in an aroma I’d almost forgotten. Coffee. Oh my fucking Whoever, it had been a long time. I made my way to the kitchen where Dean was pouring us both mugs of what amounted to liquid Heaven. There was no cream or milk to go along with it, no sugar either, but after so much time without it, even I could stand drinking it black. I’d long ago lost hope that I’d ever taste another caramel macchiato or pumpkin-spiced latte. Plain old black coffee was like a freaking miracle.
For about twenty minutes, we sat in silence, shoulders rubbing together as we savored the taste and considered our good fortune that we’d wound up in a place where, if you were lucky, you could still brew yourself a pot of coffee.
Then, there was an interruption. A knock at the door. I set down my mug and went to greet whoever had decided to show up here. It was Patrica, Micah, and another man I hadn’t met.
“Good morning, Sam. You remember Micah, and this is Nate, he’s Max’s father and Amy’s uncle.”
“Nice to meet you, Nate. Max and Amy are pretty fantastic kids. Please, come in, all of you. Dean’s made coffee, you want some?”
Micah spoke up. “Thanks, but no. We’d like to speak with you two about your intentions, if this is a good time for us to have that conversation.”
“No time like the present, Micah”, Sam replied. “One thing I learned from the end of the world.” He and I shared a wry smile at that, and Patricia and Nate nodded in response.
Within a few minutes, all five of us were sitting in the living room. Dean, Patricia and Micah were on the sofa, Nate took the recliner, and I just sat on the floor below Dean, his hand warm and comforting on my shoulder, my legs crossed and head leaning back into his touch.
Dean was the one who got the real conversation going. “I think we’d like to stay here, if you’ll have us. We wouldn’t be a drain or anything. I know how to fix cars and most electronics, and I used to work construction, so I can build things. I’ve got something to contribute. Lots of experience with standing guard, sensing when there’s something around that shouldn’t be. Sam here went to college. Stanford, on a full scholarship, he’s wicked smart (I felt my cheeks redden as I instinctively dipped my head a bit at the praise). Plus, he’s got experience in treating traumatic injuries. No formal medical training, but he can set a fracture and stitch up wounds like a pro. And he can pick- uh, he picks up new things really quickly”. Good save, as he was clearly about to brag about my lock-picking skills, which might not have gone over too well.
At this point, Nate finally spoke. “And how is it that the two of you came to learn all of these things? It’s an interesting skill set for men your age.”
I decided that since we weren’t hiding anything else, there was no point hiding that either. “We were hunters, before. Our mom was killed by a demon when we were little, and our dad raised us to learn all of this. Dean and me, and our Dad, before he died ( yeah, he passed away tragically, not like he sold his soul for Dean’s life), traveled across the country for years hunting down supernatural creatures, trying to save people. I know that might sound completely insane-”
All three sets of eyes were taking in what I had said, their confusion and disbelief clear on their faces.
“Supernatural hunters?” asked Patricia, her eyebrows raised in speculation, her voice low and almost reverent. “I’d heard there were some out there, never met any though, so far as I know. There’s always been stories, you know, mostly among the Native American part of our town, spirits and all that…some people thought it was all made up but lots of us suspected there was at least some truth to it.”
Before I could even respond, Nate posed his own question. “Is that what happened? Something we thought wasn’t real? Is that why everything-”
“No”, I replied, absolutely sure of myself for once. “This was people, just regular people who made a wrong move and started things going downhill. I know all of us have lost a lot, but it seems like the folks here in Page want to make an honest effort to start over again, not to give in to the sadness, and Dean and I”, for a second I glanced up at him, “well, we want the same thing. We want to live. The world might have changed but there are still a few of us here to appreciate what’s left and make an attempt to do what we can with what we’ve got, to hold on and figure out a way to make new lives. That’s what we want too.”
In response, Nate said “Yeah, I guess it was more likely for us to get knocked down this far by our own, I never considered anything otherworldly could have caused this, except God. None of us have much religious faith anymore, hopefully that’s not offensive.”
“Everyone we’ve met so far has been fairly tolerant of our relationship”, I said, demonstrating by placing my hand over Dean’s where it was rested on the right side of my neck, not moving. “So yeah, my guess was that there wasn’t enough religious presence here after we didn’t get shot in the face or run out of town on a rail as a result of disclosing the…” it was hard for me to say the word, even now, “incestuous nature of what Dean and I have together.”
Cause they don’t know about us
and they never heard of love
Micah was the next person to speak, though he still looked uncomfortable, probably due to my boldness in using the real term that described my relationship with Dean. “You’re both adults, you make your own decisions. No one here judges anyone else unless they’re putting us in danger. Whatever people get up to in their bedroom is just not important to us. Except in one way.”
Dean and I both looked a bit confused at this. “Which way would that be, exactly?” Dean asked, sounding a little apprehensive.
“Here’s the cold truth, guys. We’ve got a tiny fraction of the population left. There is the practical matter of increasing those numbers that has to be taken into consideration. There are still twenty four women here in town who are of child-bearing age, nine more who will be in the next couple of years, and who are more than happy to create new life, start building the population again. I realize that the two of you are together, but if you want to stay, it would be a big help if you’d consider assisting us in that aspect.”
I can’t even imagine the looks on our faces, but it must have been something like ‘horrified’ because Patricia decided to jump in and explain further. “Look, we’re not just breeding people like animals, pairing people up against their will, nothing like that. When Micah said ‘child bearing age’, he didn’t mean we’re trying to get girls knocked up as soon as they hit puberty. If we end up with teenagers who get pregnant because they’re involved sexually with someone their own age by mutual consent, we’re not going to complain about it. But we’re talking about grown women, all older than twenty one, who have a genuine desire to bear children, both because they want their own kids and because they want to help grow the population. Get a start on bringing the human race back from near extinction, you know? And the married couples who are still left, the ones who are able, are all trying to have more children.”
After a minute, I composed myself enough to respond. “I understand. I do, honestly. Surely there are people here who have lost children or spouses, maybe both, and they want to have more kids. And it’s a valid concern. We ran into an old…well, someone we used to know a while back. He told us that what’s left now is well under a quarter of the entire earth’s population before all this started. It might be kind of difficult for us - I know it’s unconventional but Dean and I are committed to each other, faithful.” I wasn’t sure how to continue, but Dean led the way.
“If it’s all right, maybe you could give us some work to do for now, so we can show you that we’re capable of earning our keep around here. And just maybe let us have a little bit of time to think that over. Would that be okay?”
This is only the beginning for you
So take some time to think it over running through
This could only end in trouble for you
So take some time to think it over
“Of course”, Nate replied, looking a little uncomfortable about the whole subject. Maybe he was thinking about his niece, not too far from ‘childbearing age’ herself. “Take all the time you need with that. Meanwhile, Dean, we’re trying to repair several homes that were damaged in a fire a few weeks ago. You could give us a hand with that. And Sam, survival skills aren’t the only things we want the children here to know, though they do obviously need to learn those too. We have one teacher but she could definitely use a hand. We’ve still got a school and a bunch of kids who need to learn how to read and write, how to do math, need to learn about history and literature. None of us think those things are lost, it’s important to us for the children to be educated. The only way to move forward. And maybe we can call on you for help when we’ve got an injury to treat? There’s one lady here in town who was an LPN before all this, but an extra hand is always appreciated. Is that a good way to start?”
Relieved, I responded, “Yes, of course, I’d love to help with teaching the kids, and anything else.” Dean followed closely with his own response. “Whatever help you need, tearing down, building, wiring, plumbing, I’m happy to do any of it.”
The men excused themselves, but Patricia stayed. “I thought you might have more questions, so fire away if there’s anything you want to know. And I’d like to get to know the two of you a little better as well.”
I was the first to jump on that invitation. “I hope it’s not disrespectful, but we’re staying here in this house, and again, thank you for allowing us to stay here, but this place belonged to someone else - would you mind telling us a little about him?”
“Victor Ramirez. He’d been widowed for years, but he lived here, and went out on the train to visit his kids and grandkids in California a couple times a year. Used to work for the city sanitation department before he retired. Three months ago, he got pneumonia. Didn’t tell anyone he was sick until it was really bad, and by that time all of our doctors were either dead or had left town. Our nurse did the best she could, but he was old and too far gone.”
Dean asked the exact question I knew he was going to ask. “We saw a picture, in the bedroom. His family. Is there anyone left?”
“One of his daughters and three of the grandkids. Nate found the address and drove out there to tell them Victor passed, and they followed him back, we buried him here. I wish I knew more, but there’s just no way to communicate over long distances. Hopefully they’re all right. I heard there was a bad West Nile outbreak out that way.”
“We heard the same thing”, Dean replied. “Even came here with a bunch of cans of bug spray, in case it was spreading.”
“If y’all wouldn’t mind, could we keep those over at the school? We could make sure the kids are covered if it looks like that’s coming our way.”
“Of course. Anything we’ve got is yours, whatever you think you might need, though admittedly we don’t have much.”
“You’ve got a car with fuel in it. Weapons, though hopefully they won’t be needed except for hunting. For food, I mean. Plus, knowledge and a willingness to work. They’re all valuable resources. Everything here is shared, honestly, it’s the only way for us to get by. And now I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”
“Ask away”, I replied, and I really meant it. No point in hiding anything now, we’d already laid every card we had out on the table.
“You said you heard things from someone you used to know. About the population, about the virus in California. Was that another hunter, like you two were?”
Aw, shit. This one was going to be hard to explain. Dean, fortunately, found his voice and started. “Not a hunter, but someone we knew from our old life. A demon. King of Hell, if you can believe that.” He recognized the look of terror on her face and continued. “We’ve had dealings with him in the past, and surprisingly enough, he’s helped us more than a few times. Seems he’s got kind of a fondness for Sam and me. He doesn’t mean any harm to anyone, not anyone topside anyway, I can tell you that with absolute certainty. He was bored and decided to pop in on us a while back, but we haven’t seen him since, and we haven’t seen anything else, either. No monsters, spirits, not anything a single thing that we used to hunt. I have a feeling they’re all either gone or in hiding, at least on a temporary basis.”
“But if he could ‘pop in’ on you then, he could do the same here”, she responded, looking wary. “If you’re saying you might be bringing a demon along with you…”
I stopped her there. “First of all, Dean was telling the truth, this guy has his job but his hands are pretty full at the moment. And even if he did decide to show up, I am absolutely certain at this point that he wouldn’t do anything destructive. Like Dean said, he’s got kind of a soft spot for us, and I think he’s rooting for the human race to pull through this, if only because he’s a bit sentimental.”
“Sentimental? A sentimental demon? Honestly? You expect me to believe that?” Her voice had become hard and suspicious. I didn’t blame her, and I told her as much.
“Yes, and I know it’s hard to believe, but he hasn’t lied to us about anything, and we haven’t lied to you about anything, even things we thought might have you chasing us out of town with pitchforks and torches. Please believe me, Patricia”, I pleaded.
“All right, you know the thing, and you’re right, both of you have been completely honest from the start, so I have no reason to doubt you. You have to promise me, though, if this demon makes an appearance here in Page, you’ll tell me or Micah or someone immediately. Promise me that.”
“No arguments there, if we get even the scent of him or anything else like him, we’ll let you know. But like Dean said, he’s got a full agenda of his own that has nothing to do with people who are still alive. Anything else that’s supernatural, too, if we get wind of it we’ll tell you right away, I swear. It’s the honest truth, we haven’t run into a single supernatural creature in months, other than our brief run-in with this demon. Even then, he just showed up to give us some useful information, all of which has turned out to be true.”
Patricia shook her head. “This is so surreal. Meeting people who have actually dealt with these kinds of things, things most of us thought were all made-up stories. You honestly don’t believe there’s anything to fear as far as all that goes?”
“I can’t promise it will be like that forever”, Dean told her, “but for right now, yeah, it seems like the angels and demons and monsters are pretty much gone, even if they’re just hiding out temporarily.”
That one word, the one Dean hadn’t even meant to say, was what caught Patricia’s attention. “Angels? You mean like - angels?”
Now we were heading into tough territory, and I could see Dean’s eyes cloud over with grief as soon as he realized what he’d said. “Yeah. The two of us have experienced a lot over the past few years. They’re long stories, and maybe we can tell you about them someday, but both of us have been to Hell, and to Heaven. We’ve met angels who were stone cold killers, and demons who volunteered to help us. Dean ate pizza with Death, yeah, the horseman, Death, and I walked around without a soul for more than a year. Over the course of it, we lost our Dad, our best friends, just about everyone we ever knew or cared about. So, yeah, we can do lots of things to help you folks out here, now, but we’ve got more emotional baggage than your average Joe. Or, you know, Joes.”
She took a moment or two just to absorb all I’d said - I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when I got the chance to tell her any more than the Cliff’s Notes version - then just nodded and said, “Seems like you came out the other side of all that, even with everything that’s happened, more well-adjusted than most. At least, that’s what it looks like to me.”
Dean replied, “I know that’s what it looks like. And you’re right, maybe growing up in the life prepared us for all of it more than if we hadn’t, but I wouldn’t call either of us ‘well-adjusted’, maybe we’re just making the best of it. All me and Sam ever had was each other, really, and we’ve still got each other, even now, so I guess we’re grateful for that small mercy.”
“All right. I think we’ve talked about this enough for now, you both seem exhausted just from the conversation, and we don’t need exhausted. We need two men who are ready to give us a hand around here. You ready for that?”
Dean and I looked at each other. “Yeah”, I said, “we are. We’re ready. We want to help. Show us where to go, what to do, and let us be a part of what you’re doing here. Please.”
For the first time since the conversation began, Patricia gave us a genuine smile. “Now that, I can do. Let’s get started.”
Epilogue