Part 1: Out of the Darkness
CHAPTER 1: Kayleigh
It was nearly dawn and I hadn't even fallen asleep yet. I tossed and turned most of the night, like usual, thinking about my family. I decided to get up. If I hadn't slept yet, I mostly certainly wouldn't now. The sun was already starting to peek through the dark pine trees when I picked up the old, worn saddle that I had been leaning against and threw it over my little brown pinto, Sam. He gave a great sigh as I tightened the straps. Grabbing my bed roll, I went back to Sam and strapped it down to the back of the saddle. I did the same with my bow and quiver full of arrows, making sure I could access both easily if I needed too. Picking up my pack I swung it over my shoulders and untied Sam's reins from the tree. Going back out onto the main road I mounted Sam and nudged him forward. I let him walk slowly as we made our way down the cracked, two lane road. Dodging old cars and rubble, we made our way north towards Chicago. I didn't know what I was looking for...Not really, anyway. It had been fifteen years since the power went out.
I was only three when it happened. I don't remember much of what it was like before the black out, but from what my mother use to tell me it was simpler. But people were careless and took things for granted. Now life is chaotic, dangerous. Lonely.
All I knew was I had to get to Chicago. Miles Matheson's flashed across my mind. My mother told me he could help. He could give me a place to live and even a job. I didn't know much about him. But what I did know made me worried to even reach out. Miles Matheson was the former General of the Monroe Republic. The Monroe Republic was everything from Wisconsin to Virginia. Militia soldiers controlled the Monroe Republic and General Sebastian Monroe controlled them. No one really knows why but Matheson ran from Monroe and being a part of the Militia. My mother knew...but she never gave me the whole story. As I was riding down the road, I thought about why I was even going to him. He trained, helped build the militia to what it is today. They're a ruthless, lawless bunch of dicks. They're also the reason i'm alone.
The road moved away from the forest, heading through wide open fields. I passed a large sign that read;
WELCOME TO ILLINOIS
I was so close. But turning around and running to the Georgia Federation or god forbid even Texas, still crossed my mind with every step. I looked at the sky to the East, the dark rolling clouds heading my way began to worry me. I didn't like the thought of getting stuck out in the open during a storm. My only choice of cover was an old service store, I could see it ahead in the distance. I pushed Sam into a trot, making the service station just in time, as the dark clouds moved over the wide open Illinois sky. I went inside, pulling a not so happy horse in behind me.
"You're okay boy" I said trying to sooth him as I removed the packs and saddle from his back. Lighting flashed brightly across the sky, followed by a loud BANG! Sam's eyes rolled, and he side stepped along the tile floor as he began to panic. The store was lined with shelves that were mostly empty. Trash and rubble littered the floors. In one corner of the room the ceiling was falling apart. I slowly moved towards Sam, placing my hand gently on his neck. I run my fingers up and down, attempting to sooth his fear.
I got him to calm down a bit. Then gripping the halter around his head, I moved him to the back of the store, making my way through an aisle that was not so trashed. I got him to lie down, grabbing the blanket from my bed roll, I threw it over him. I brought my pack, Sam's saddle and my bow over to where I had Sam settled. Suddenly, I heard a loud clanking sound coming from behind a door that read 'Storage'. My hand flew to my bow. Grabbing my quiver full of arrows and swinging it over my head and onto my back, I made my way towards the door. I pulled an arrow out, stringing it as I got closer. I took a deep breath. Holding the bow up, I kicked open the door.
"Don't shoot! Jesus christ don't shoot!"
It was dark, but I could see just enough that I could tell the man who yelled was handcuffed to a pole that ran from the ceiling into the ground.
"Who are you?" I asked, not lowering my weapon.
"My name is Dean Winchester" he answered. "Please i've been here for...hell almost a week maybe. I don't know"
I didn't know what to do. He was obviously chained for a reason. And if I knew anything about people it's that you can't trust them.
"Look I get it, you don't know me and I'm handcuffed to a pole. Not exactly going in my favor is it?"
"Not really"
"Take my shirt off"
"Excuse me?"
"Unbutton my shirt...I have a tattoo" he pleaded with me. "It'll prove i'm not militia or a part of any bandit gangs"
I put down my bow and stuck the arrow back in the quiver. Pulling out the knife I kept in my boot, I went over to Dean. I hesitated at first then unbuttoned the top of his flannel.
Pulling it back, I saw a small tattoo of a red and white striped flag with white stars painted on his chest.
"You're a rebel" I said looking back at his face. He was young, probably in his early twenties. If I had to guess, twenty-two. He had dark brown hair and grey-blue eyes. He was also muscular, probably from the training and fighting. But his face was thin, pale and he looked almost sickly.
"You're wrists" I say flatly.
"You still don't believe me?"
"I just have to be sure" I lifted each sleeve and I checked his wrists.
"See? No militia emblem burned into my skin"
I hesitated again. I looked into his face, he seemed genuine but...I couldn't really be sure. I reached down my shirt and a huge grin ran across his face.
"It's not what you think perv" I replied, pulling out a hair pin that was attached to my bra and holding it in front of his face.
"I knew that's what you were doing"
"Of course you did"
I took the pin and stuck it into the lock of the cuffs. "You're lucky you know" I said with a smirk, "If it weren't for that storm you'd probably would have died in here"
"Is that your way of saying I owe you my life?"
"Yeah, yeah it is"
"Well, I can't really argue that"
"Nope"
The lock made a clicking sound as the cuffs popped open. Dean rubbed his wrists, which were bruised and bloody from the chaffing of the cuffs. He stood up, and stumbled as he got onto his feet. I caught his arm and helped him back into the store. Sam was no longer laying on the floor but standing, chewing on my pack's strap.
"Either i've been in there a lot longer than I thought" Dean whispered breathlessly, "or there's a horse standing in the middle of the store"
"He's mine. He's scared of thunderstorms," I reply and help him over towards Sam. "I didn't want to leave him out there"
I helped Dean to the floor. As he leaned back against a shelf, I rummaged through my pack. "Here," I said pulling out a bottle of water.
"Thanks" he smiled as he took the bottle from me.
"Drink slowly" I told him.
"You're on your own?"
"Obviously"
"You seem a little young to be out here alone" his brow arches, giving his forehead creased lines in a questioning gaze, "Especially since you're a girl"
"I'm almost nineteen actually" I retort sharply. "I can take care of myself. Not that it's any of your business how I live"
"Right sorry, didn't mean to offend you"
"Yeah and no offense but I don't appreciate the sexist comment either" I snap and hold my gaze firm to show him he doesn't scare me. "Just because i'm a girl doesn't mean I don't know how to defend myself"
There was another flash of lighting and bang of thunder. It made me jump almost as much as it made Sam.
"Looks like he's not the only one scared of storms" Dean smirks. I don't say anything. I just continue to sit there and watch him, with my hand still clutching the knife.
"You know, you never told me your name" he said taking one last sip of water and handing me back the bottle.
"You're right I didn't" I replied, taking the bottle from him with a quick snatch.
"Okay...if you can't tell me your name," he leans in and studies my face intently, "I have to call you something right?"
"No you really don't"
"You look like a...Jennifer to me"
"Not even close"
"Rebecca?"
"No"
"Sarah?"
A flinched when I heard the name. I'm sure he could see the sadness that spread across my face. I tried my best to hide it, but the memory was too painful.
"Okay, I guess you don't look like a Sarah either" he mumbled, watching me with a confused expression.
"That was my mother's name"
"I'm guessing she's-"
"Dead. Yeah"
"I'm sorry I didn't mean-"
"Just stop talking, please"
I got up and went over to Sam, trying to sooth him again. His ears perked when he saw me reach into my jeans pocket. He knew it meant he was getting a sugar cube. He nudged his muzzle against my hand and nibbled on my t-shirt until I fed him the sugar cube.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you" Dean said, suddenly at my side and running his fingers over the length of Sam. The horse gave no attention to new guy as he greedily nibbled my jeans looking for more treats.
"You shouldn't be walking around" I mutter in annoyance. "You're weak, you need to eat something and rest"
"I know what it's like to lose people you care about" he ignores my hidden suggestion to leave me alone. "To be alone. It sucks. And you spend every minute of every day wishing it had been you instead of them"
I suddenly find myself turning to face Dean. "Kayleigh" I whisper and he turns, giving me a quizzical look and leaning in close. He hadn't heard me, I suppose.
"What?"
"My name is Kayleigh"
The storm was still raging on as we sat in silence, ignoring each other as much as possible. But occasionally I would catch him staring, or he would catch me doing the same. We were stuck in that small store with my one bottle of water, which was now half empty, some jerky and half a loaf of bread I had gotten from a town I had hit before getting into Illinois. I gave Dean some of my food, but only a little at a time or else he would just puke it back up.
"How long do you think till the storm passes" Dean asked, finally breaking the silence after another awkward exchange of catching me staring.
"Two hours...three tops" I said, chewing on some dried beef and averting my eyes to my brown leather boots. They were worn and needed a good patching up. I sighed to myself, that would be expensive.
"So I'm stuck in a gas station for another three hours with you and a horse for company" he muttered, mostly to himself but I could plainly hear him. "Thats awesome. You know when I picture being trapped in a cold, small space with a girl, this isn't how I hoped it would go"
"Wow"
"What?"
"You're more of a womanizing dick than I originally thought" I spit out and his lips curl in a smirk that to any other girl would be flirtatious and appealing. But looking at him and knowing what was clearly on his mind made me feel sick. I slide my hand back over the hilt of my knife.
"That's nice" he says nonchalantly. "You don't even know me"
"After that last comment thats all I needed to hear to know what kind of guy you are"
"All right, go ahead" he waved a hand at me, still with that smug smirk on his face. "What kind of guy am I?"
"Well from what you said before, about what its like to lose someone" I begin, trying to keep my voice neutral and low, "You obviously have, and instead of letting the hurt of what happen show, you bottle it instead. Keep it to yourself. You don't let anyone get close to you, emotionally, anyway. You play people with your looks and charm but really it's just a smoke screen. You want to be able to get close to people but you don't want to get hurt again either"
He's quiet for a long time, and it makes me think i've gotten to him and i've hit a nerve. "So, How'd I do?" I give him a smirk of my own and cock an eye brow question.
"You think I'm handsome and charming?" he says and starts grinning like an idiot.
"My point exactly" I reply sucking in a sharp breath at his arrogance. I leave him, getting up and going to look out the window at the storm. The rain was starting to slow down, but flashes of lighting still danced across the blackened sky. After only a few silent minutes, Dean joined me by the window. He didn't say anything at first and he kept his distance to several feet.
"That first week, after the blackout it was terrifying" he suddenly whispers, and the pain is clear in his shaky voice. It's enough to turn my gaze away from the light spectacle outside and look at him. "You probably don't remember it, but I do. I was only eight when bandits killed both my parents" he says, then swallows hard before continuing, "It was the middle of the night, my older brother Adam came bursting into my room. He pulled me from my bed and dragged me underneath it, threw his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't make any noise. I could hear their screams...I could hear them begging-"
"You don't have to tell me" I say frantically, knowing exactly where this story is going.
"No it's okay, I want to" his voice is no longer strained, but there's still a hint of sadness. I almost reach out and touch his shoulder but draw my hand quickly back to my side before he could see my attempt of the gesture. He took a few minutes, gathering himself to finish the rest of the story. "My brother was only fifteen and he had to raise me. When I was thirteen we got picked up by some militia soldiers. They were taking us to one of their re-education camps. But some rebels ambushed them, they probably saved our lives. I've been with them ever since"
"I'm sorry" I know it's not the best thing to say, but it's the only thing I can come up with. What can you possibly say to an experience like that? What words could comfort someone who's been through so much, and when he was so young. And I know...I know exactly how he feels. Yet I can't bring myself to say anything but 'I'm sorry'?
"Yeah well" he rubs the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on the storm outside, "I guess you were right about me"
"Not really"
"What makes you say that?" I see him flinch, then slowly he turns and glances at me.
"You've known me for what?" I answer and meet his eyes. "Three hours? And you opened up to me. So maybe there's still hope for you"
He laughs at my bluntness. "I suppose so" he nods and I can't help but notice the way his eyes glaze over me before meeting mine again. "So what about you? What's your story?"
"I don't like to talk about it" I cringe and bite my tongue to stop myself from revealing anything. I can't look at his blue grey eyes anymore.
"You don't trust me?"
"It has nothing to do with trusting you. I just...I can't"
"It's okay, I understand" he says with what sounds like disappointment and follows my gaze to the sky, "Looks like the storm's passing. So much for three hours"
I went to the back of the store, packing up my stuff. I threw Sam's saddle onto his back and started on the straps. I could feel Dean's eyes on me the entire time and it made me more anxious just to get the hell out. But he didn't say anything, nor did he do anything. He just stood there and watched.
"I grabbed a bag off one of the shelves, I put some food in it for you and the rest of the water" I say as I make my way to the front of the store with Sam. I swing my quiver of arrows over my head and onto my back. Dean holds the door open as I lead Sam out. The clouds were still a dark grey as the last of the storm passed over head.
"I'm heading north, to Chicago" Dean says as we stand facing each other on the road. I cringe again. He's going the same direction as me? Terrific.
"I know some people there" he continues when I stay silent, "and its close that I probably won't pass out on the road from dehydration"
I finally let it out and laugh, shaking my head at the unfortunate coincidence.
"What could possibly be funny about me dying on the side of the road?" he looks down at me with a slight tilt of his head.
"Nothing, we just might as well walk together"
"You're going to Chicago too?" I can't help but notice the way he perks up at the thought. And the way I smile back.
"Yep" I shrug like it's nothing.
"Missing me already?" he teases with that smug, charming smirk. Wait...charming?
"Fine, you can walk alone then" I scrunch my nose in distaste at his fat ego. I turn away, about to push myself up onto Sam's back when I hear him sigh heavily.
"Wait!" he exclaims, "Wait...okay"
I turned back towards him, "You going to be okay to walk then?"
"Yeah i'll be fine" he rolls his eyes, "I'm not incompetent"
Good to see he has confidence in himself too. Arrogant jerk. "All right, lets go" I ignore his tone. Gripping the reins tightly, I tug Sam forward with Dean following close beside me.
Most of the writing is mine and some is from the show since I follow the plot.
Thanks for reading :)