Chapter 1 – A Little Corner of Nowhere
312-Days
Kirkville, Missouri – 11:23am
Hannah heard the ringing of her phone like a distant cry. Her mind had been wondering as she stared out into the woods, but her attention was drawn back to the instant cry of the phone. She moved over to it slowly and picked it up off.
"Hello?"
"Miss Riordan? This is Chester Wilks."
"Hello Mr Wilks" said Hannah, amazed at the flatness of her own voice "How are you?"
"I'm good." replied the jovial older man on the other side of the phone "Real good in fact."
"That's good to hear." replied Hannah almost on autopilot.
"I've had a look at those plans that you bought down to the workshop and they are really something else."
"I was very impressed with them myself." said Hannah with a slight smile touching her lips.
"I'm glad Jack sent you to me, because this is certainly one for the books."
"Mr Casey assured me that you were the best gun smith for this job, although I must stress again the need for discretion. Despite what you might think Mr Wilks, museum acquisition can be a very competitive business."
"Oh no Ma'am." said the man quickly "I completely understand. I know a dozen antique armourers who would kill to get their hands on these plans."
"Can you make up the guns and rounds based on those plans?"
"Absolutely Miss Riordan, I may be a locksmith by day, but replica guns are my passion. I'm just a little bit confused though, you mentioned when we spoke that you wanted these to be fashioned exactly as they were specified in these plans."
"That's correct."
"We'll it wouldn't be right if I didn't tell you that I could probably produce these in half the time and at half the expense if we updated some of the components to more modern materials."
Hannah smiled again to herself "I do understand that Mr Wilks, but we are trying to preserve historical fact here and there is no room for me to take any shortcuts."
"No I guess not" said the man and despite his words Hannah sensed that he was pleased to have the challenge to build these as they had centuries ago.
"I really need to stress Mr Wilks about the importance of adhering to the plans."
"I assume that you are referring to all the instructions about dipping the molten gun in holy water and getting a priest in to bless the smelting iron before it's poured, that sort of thing?"
"That's right Mr Wilks. I need your guarantee that the manufacture of these guns will be exactly as it is laid out in the plans."
"Of course." said the man, and Hannah could feel that while he didn't understand why, he was honourable enough to keep to his word.
"Now let's discuss payment and delivery." said Hannah, picking up from the man that he was tentative to bring up the issue of money.
"Well, three guns with a classic manufacture like this will probably cost you, eight or nine thousand dollars…but that's materials and labour." Qualified the man quickly, thinking that she would likely baulk at the price.
"And how long would that take?" Hannah asked evenly.
"With this kind of old school manufacture, I'd say two months, maybe a bit longer. Unfortunately this isn't my primary business."
"Mr Wilks, if you can deliver these guns earlier, I can offer you fifteen thousand for your efforts."
The man almost spluttered on the other end of the phone. This was a significant sum for a gun smith who did it as a hobby out of his basement.
"Now, the museum will only allow me to sign off on such expenditure once I have proof of your workmanship. Mr Casey has assured me that your workmanship was the best he had ever seen, and I believe him, but unfortunately I will need more than that for the benefactor who is funding this exhibit."
"Sure" said the older man on the phone, feeling like he was suddenly a little fish in a very big pond.
"How long do you think it would take to manufacturer say a dozen bullets?"
"To be honest I could cast those bullets in a weekend, but with all of that additional etching on them, it would probably take me a week, ten days maybe."
Hannah was silent for a moment while she thought. "What I propose is this. If I bring two thousand dollars down to your office, let's call it a retainer if you like and you produce for me a dozen bullets, I'll then send them back to the museum and assuming everyone is satisfied, we can continue on then to the revolvers. Does that sound reasonable to you Mr Wilks?"
"Miss Riordan that sounds more than fair" said the older man in awe "I'm just thrilled that someone is prepared to pay me to do the very thing that I love."
Hannah smiled at the genuine joy she felt from the man. I had been a long time since she had felt his kind of elation and it went a long way to soothing her.
"I'm pleased that we could do business." She said "I'll come down to your workshop this afternoon to drop in the money."
"I'll look forward to seeing you then." And with that the man was gone.
Hannah smiled as she put down the phone. She was glad that the Colt historian that she had found had sent her here. Kirkville was only a small town with small town sensibilities, but it was located near the beautiful Thousand Hills national park where she was able to rent a small cottage right near the edge of the woods.
Hannah had needed the solitude that Kirkville could provide. Since leaving the hospital in Denver, her body had recovered but her abilities had gone particularly haywire. Presently she couldn't seem to shield herself from anything, which made being around people almost agonising.
Even more disturbing than the emotions of the living were those of the dead. Hannah had the ability to be a strong medium, but not the inclination. Of all her skills it was an ability that she tried to suppress very early on. She wasn't always successful, but she worked very hard to block them all out.
Unlike what the television shows portrayed, being a medium was a constant assault on the senses. The long time dead that still hung around were filled with anger and could often be violent as soon as the realised they could be heard. The recently dead were often confused and pleaded for some form of assistance that no one could provide.
Just getting here had been a nightmare, every hospital, every cemetery even just some random places in the earth acted as hubs for the spirits of the dead and as she passed them, they would ascend upon her.
She had come across the cottage quite by accident, and had been relieved that there was nothing laying dormant waiting for her. She had scrawled Tibetan wards in chalk over all of the doors and windows and the cottage had become a sanctuary, right when she believed that she was truly going mad.
She had been here for three days now, and she could feel herself getting stronger, but her mind was still like an open wound, exposed to the elements. She prayed that this situation was only temporary. As it was she could really only stand to be around people for a few minutes at a time. If this was how her existence would now be defined, then she would be next to useless in the war effort.
Thinking about the war, made her wonder what was going on with Dean. She had texted him a few times, just to update him and let him know that she was alright, but she hadn't spoken to him yet. She knew that she would have to, but since the events of a fortnight ago, she wasn't sure if she could safely do so. The connection that had been forged between her and Dean in the woods of Patterson was strong at the best of times, without anything to protect her, Hannah was afraid it would be all consuming.
Pinon, Arizona – 9:32am
Dean sat in the car, watching as Sam ordered them coffee from the coffee shop over the road. When his phone buzzed to life, he snatched it up, but when he saw Bobby's caller ID flash up, he couldn't help the wave of disappointment that filled him.
"Hey Bobby, what you got for me?"
"You boys look like you have found yourselves a Tlahuelpuchi."
"Say that again?" baulked Dean as he went over the foreign sounding word in his mind.
" A Tlahuelpuchi. It's a variant type of vampiric creature. It's human, or at least it comes from a human family, but it is said to be cursed to feed off blood. The way the curse goes, the family will protect it or they risk the curse falling on to either themselve of one of their children."
"Please tell me that to kill it we don't have to say it's name three times aloud or anything."
Bobby laughted slightly "No, nothing like that, but its not too partial to metal, so some well placed iron rounds will probably do the trick. The hard part is finding it, the mythology says that it has the ability to shapeshift into any animal but it tends to favour birds. It will select its victims by flying in a cross pattern over their homes."
"Great so we'll just have to stake out Pinon watching for signs of any suspiciously flying birds." Muttered Dean
"Hey it could be worse." complained Boby "You could be here with me exorcising twin girls."
"So how's that working out for you?" question Dean feeling suddenly serious.
"Linda Blaire had nothing on these two. I need eyes in the back of my damn head."
"You handeling that alone?" asked Dean watching Sam through the shop window across the street.
"No" said Bobby in a practical tone "I bought in a Jesuit friend of mine, mutch better at Latin than me."
"That's good." said Dean feeling suddenly releived that Bobby had help with him.
"How you two fairing after Reno anyhow?" asked Bobby and Dean was surprised at his conversational mood.
"Alright I guess." said Dean on a sigh "Sam's gone back to being real quiet though. Something's going on in that brain of his, but he's just not sharing it with me."
"Well my sources say that Thammuz was a significant player, you boys did well fighting him off by yourselves. Maybe he's just recovering"
"We didn't exactly do it alone" replied Dean, as thoughts of the Doc filled him with regret.
"That's right, you said your doctor friend helped out." said Bobby and his tone was a little too knowing.
"Yeah" said Dean "It put her in the hospital."
"Well she's alright now though isn't she?"
"I don't know" confessed Dean "I haven't really spoken to her."
Bobby made a strange clicking sound on the other end of the phone "Women!" he lamneted in a meladromatic way, which Dean couldn't help but smile at. "Oh shit, I better go. Looks like were having pea soup for lunch again."
"Take it easy." called Dean as he heard Bobby hurriedly hang up the phone.
Dean spotted Sam jogging across the street with two coffees in his hand, so he leaned over and pulled the leaver of the door to let his brother in. Sam slid into the passengers seat, handing one of the cups to Dean.
"Who was that?" he asked nodding slightly towards the phone in Dean's hand.
"Bobby" replied Dean, peeling the lid off the coffee and blowing on the contents "He thinks we have a Tahulapuke."
Sam's brows rose high into on his forehead "A what?"
"Yeah that's what I said." replied Dean taking a long draw from his coffee. "Oh my god that's good."
Dean savoured the flavour for a few moements before he continued. "Aparently it is some sort of vampiric creature that lives off the blood of children, he said that the legend said it was some sort of curse, but that the creature was actually born to a human family who will probably try and protect it."
"I don't know about you." Said Sam taking a long sip from his own coffee "But I am really getting sick of evil shit that feeds off children. Why are there never any demons or ghosts that feed off rapists or serial killers or anything like that. It's always children and kittens and puppies."
Dean smiled over the brim of his cup as his brother's diatribe "Children and kittens and puppies?"
"You know what I mean." replied Sam agitatedly
"Yeah I do." Conceeded Dean, but his smile didn't fade.
"So how do we kill it?"asked Sam
"Boby thinks shooting it will probably do."
"Really" said Sam a look of surprise on his face "No magic words, no special ritual? That's a change."
"Yeah, but first we have to find it and here's the kicker…it can shape shift into any animal."
Sam sighed audibly "It can never be easy can it?"
As Dean smiled at his brother, his phone sprang to life where it sat in his lap. He juggled his coffe over to his other hand and flipped it open to answer it.
"Hello"
"Hello Dean. How are you?"
Dean almost couldn't breath as he heard those words on the other end of the phone. After two weeks she had finally called. After Reno, Dean had begged Sam to got to Denver, but Adam had let them know that the Doc was already on the move, so Dean had let it drop.
He had tried calling her at least once or twice a day since, but the only news that he every seemed to receive was either through her clipped text messages or through Adam. He knew that Adam was more concerned about Hannah than he was letting on and that had made Dean all the more worried, but he was beginning to think that the Doc would never forgive him for what he did in Reno.
"Doc! He replied when he could finally speak "How are you?"
Dean's eye met Sam's and his brother gave him a hard stare before opening his door and slipping out to lean on the bonnet of the Impala. Dean watched his brother leave, but he was more concerned about the woman on the other end of the phone.
"I'm getting better, thanks." She replied stiffly
'I tried calling Doc" Dean stammered "I wanted to apologise. I never meant for you to get hurt."
"It's alright" she said quietly, but he felt like she was holding something back. She was not as easy with him, as some of their earlier conversations. In fact she sounded positevly rigid.
"You did what you thought you had to."
"I should have waited for you." said Dean. He had wanted so desperately to speak to her, but now that he was he was somewhat at a loss for words.
"I doesn't matter now." She said in a business like manner. "How's Sam?"
"He's fine." said Dean, not wanting to divulge anything more with his brother just outside.
"I'm glad" said Hannah, and it was perhaps the first genuine emotion that he had heard from her. His heart felt sore, the only emotioin that he could elicit from her was for his brother. He cursed himself for a fool as a long silence stretched out between them.
"Where are you Doc?" Dean finally asked.
"A small town in Missouri" she replied "You?'
"We're on a hunt in Arizona."
"Demon?" she questioned flatly
"No" he said finally smiling "Some creature who's name I can't pronouce."
"I've found a gun smith who says he can make you some rounds for your colt." the Doc said abruptly and Dean wasn't sure if he was more surprise by her abrupt change in topic or her actual statement.
"Really?"
"Yes" she responded "He thinks he can have them finished in a week or so."
"That's fantastic" said Dean but his tone didn't reflect his enthusiasm. Something was so not right between them and he wasn't sure how to make it right. He'd be more comfortable if she yelled and screamed at him. At least then he felt he could probably deal with, but this flat even tone felt almost more like indifference, and that was a hell of a lot worse than anger.
"I thought that closer to the time I'd find out where you were and courier them to you."
"Well, why don't we meet up and you can give them to us then."
Dean held his breath as there was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
"I'd really like to see you Doc." Dean said quietly, putting everything he felt behind those words.
"Alright" the Doc said quietly "I'll call you in about a week and we can settle on somewhere."
"Great" replied Dean feeling relief flood through him.
"Take care of yourself and Sam." said the Doc and without another word she was gone.
Dean looked at his phone, still blinking slightly. That hadn't gone exactly as he had hoped, but atleast now he had spoken to her. As Dean closed his phone and slid it back into his pocket, Sam eased silently into the passengers side of the Impala.
Dean looked at his brother still slightly shelshocked, but Sam was resolutely ingnoring him, so rolling his eyes slighty, he started the car and pulled off down the street.
Kirkville, Missouri – 11:36am
Hannah sat on the small sofa in the cottage, rubbing at her chest. Her chest actually hurt under the pressure of all of Dean's competeing emotions. She was sorry that they had to have such a short conversation, but she couldn't have handled much more from him. How did any one human being survive with that many emotions rolling around in their body.
She had felt all of his emotions so intensly that her body, not knowing how to process them, had turned them into physical responses. His confusion had made her feel nauseous, his relief at hearing from her had made it hard for her to breath and his guilt had made her heart achein her very chest. The thing that had surprised her the most was the longing that he felt. He really did miss her and inspite of everything, she couldn't help but find that endearing.
She only prayed that when it was time for her to meet up with them, that she could sheild herself a little better. If she couldn't, the meeting migt actually kill her.