"Knives?" Mel asked as the girls marched through the trees.
"Three on my belt, one on my upper arm, dagger in my boot," Kyra replied, shoving a branch out of the way.
"Gun?"
"Next to my knives, bullets as well, rock salt, silver, normal, copper. Sword?"
"Got it," Ebony piped up.
"Smaller knives?"
"Thigh strap, boot, belt."
"Bullets?"
"All there." She patted the studs on her belt. "Guns?"
"Pistol in holster, got this bad boy," Mel held up her larger gun which hung round her neck on a strap.
"Grenades?"
"Made a dozen."
"Do you have an idea of where this lair would be then, Kyra? Other than 'where the lines meet'," Ebony asked, turning in a circle as she walked, completing her three sixty to almost walk into Mel.
"That looks like a pretty good guess." Kyra gestured to the cave in the hill, looking ominous and sinister in the dark. The girls inched to the entrance, and Ebony felt something break under her foot with a very audible crack.
She looked to the heavens. "I just stepped on a human bone, didn't I?"
"Yep," Mel replied, hitching her gun up. "Let's go in."
Ebony went first, followed by Kyra, then Mel.
"Torches." All three of them took out said object and turned them on, giving some light to the gloom surrounding them.
"This guy's place needs serious redecorating," Ebony muttered, looking at the human remains lining the walls. "This isn't the caveman era. Why can't monsters-" She cut off as she stumbled over a ribcage, knocking into the wall.
"Ebony!"
The dark-haired girl felt herself get shoved and she pitched forward, at the same time aware of the sound of falling rocks and a yell of pain. She quickly turned around in time to see Kyra lean against the wall, clutching her left shoulder and breathing heavily.
"Kyra," Mel said firmly. "Kyra, calm down right now."
"The walls," she groaned, her eyes screwed shut. "I could ignore them until now, but I can't, I can't."
"Force it back," Mel simply said, looking up at the tallest of the three. "Come on, force it back."
Kyra breathed deeply, slowly, until it was level again. Then, she slowly opened her eyes. "Okay." She wouldn't make eye contact with either of them, like she always did after an attack. "Okay. Sorry. Let's go." She made to stand up properly, but Mel grabbed her right arm.
"Kyra, I know that was your bad shoulder. Don't make it worse."
"I'm fine-"
"The monster's out hunting, it's not that dangerous." When Kyra hesitated, she added, "be lookout?" And gave her the biggest puppy eyes imaginable.
Kyra let out a shaky breath. "Fine. I'll go be lookout. But be careful."
Both girls nodded, and Mel quickly passed Kyra, joining Ebony; after looking back at the eldest of their trio, the two ventured into the gloom, and Kyra headed back to the entrance. Taking deep, relieved breaths of the night air, she pulled out her gun, and with some difficulty, cocked it.
"Why are teenagers so stupid?" Dean muttered.
"They don't know what's out there, that's why," Sam replied. "Watch out for that branch."
Dean didn't register what his brother said until after he fell over. "That's a frickin' tree trunk, Sasquatch."
"Shh!" Sam pulled him behind a tree as a girl tagging at the back of the group turned around. After waiting twenty seconds, Sam glanced round the tree to check that she'd carried on, and the boys continued their mission. Eventually the teenagers came to a clearing and set down their tents.
"Why don't we just pull out the ranger badges and send 'em back?" Sam asked as they crouched in the greenery.
"Because the new moon's tonight, and the bastard will be out hunting," Dean said. "And when it comes, we shoot the damn thing and the kids go running."
"Yeah, but what if-" Sam broke off. "Do you hear that?"
Footsteps. Thundering footsteps, rustling leaves, breaking branches.
"It's here." Dean got up and burst into the clearing with Sam behind, causing most of the kids to jump, and one girl to scream. "Get out of here, now."
"Who the hell are you?" one boy asked heatedly.
"The guys about to save your-" There was a roar, and the teenagers backed up, yelling and screaming. Then a dark, thing covered in matted fur jumped out of the undergrowth, snarling and spitting, only to have both Sam and Dean shoot it in the face. It howled and turned, bounding off into the forest.
"Dude, what the hell?!" someone shouted.
"Go home!" Sam yelled in reply as the two Winchesters ran off in pursuit.
Dean lost track of time as he and his brother raced through the woods, ducking under branches and jumping over logs. Risking a quick glance at Sam, he realised once again how much he'd missed all 6"4 of college boy; going on jobs, arguing like brothers, being reprimanded on checking out some girl behind the counter.
Dean mentally shook himself. No time for chick flick moments- mind on the job.
"She hid it again," Ebony said as she and Mel crept along the passageway.
"You know that's how she copes," Mel replied.
"Crappy way of coping; she was barely holding it together, and that was after you told her to get a grip."
"There's only so much I can do; hopefully she'll open up more, see that it's okay to be emotional."
"We've known her for years, and she's as open and emotional as a brick."
Mel blew away a strand of hair that had escaped her messy bun. "Time heals all things, and when she's ready, she'll talk."
"How are you the youngest?"
The two walked for a minute or so in silence, until they came to a split.
"Hmm... Coin toss?"
"Heads I get right, tails you get right," Ebony suggested.
"Fair enough." Mel pulled a quarter from her pocket and flicked it into the air, caught it, and slapped it into her other palm. "Tails."
"Ugh."
"What is it with you and the left?"
"No idea, I'm right-handed? Not holding anything against the left, but that passage doesn't feel too good."
"You've faced worse than the left passage, Ebby, now go."
With a mock salute, Ebony walked off, and Mel, hitching up her gun, went the other way.
Ebony grimaced at the sound of bones crunching underfoot. "Bloke could at least clean up after himself," she muttered aloud. "Disgusting."
After a while the passageway opened up, and looking round, Ebony figured that she had reached the centre of the lair. Bones, corpses, rotting flesh, bones, maggots, more bones. Eugh.
Quickly scanning the place with her flashlight, she determined that no, the monster wasn't in here, therefore not putting her in immediate danger. Glancing around, she tried to determine which traps would work best and easily concealed where, and was about to fish out some trip wire when she heard a crash that sounded like a pile of bones being scattered all around, and she could hear growling and crap.
It was early.
"Dude could do a spring clean," Dean commented quietly as the two boys snuck down the stone passage.
"Might be more welcoming to his victims," Sam deadpanned, causing Dean to smirk; said smirk immediately slipped as they heard movement, footsteps so quiet they were almost soundless. And then, those footsteps stilled. Looking back at his brother, Dean held up three fingers, and counted down. Then, they turned the corner and Deans swinging fist was blocked by an slim arm, and something jabbed him in the gut. Sam lunged forward and caught the figure's arm, turned on his flashlight, and-
"Stop that, your blinding me!" The arm twisted out of his grip, which didn't matter as Sam's hand had gone completely slack. "What are you two doing? Something dangerous is in this forest, you need to go."
"Sweetheart, why do you think we're here?" Dean showed his gun. "And you shouldn't go up against it alone."
"One, I can handle myself just fine." The brunette cocked her large gun to emphasise her point. "Two, there are three of us, and- wait, how did you get in here?"
"We followed it back to the entrance near the large group of boulders after we shot it when it tried to attack a couple of idiot kids," Dean replied.
"Wait, you mean it's-"
"Dean," Sam interrupted, "it's her."
Both of them turned to the taller of the men and said in unison "what?"
"You took the right, didn't you?" he pressed on. "You took the right passage."
"How do you-"
Dean caught on. "Your friend, she's-"
Then a roar and a startled yell drowned out the rest of their words.
This was ridiculous. Ridiculous and terrifying. And also stupid.
It was supposed to be out hunting. There was supposed to be time to set up the traps. They were supposed to waltz out and come back the next morning to the mutt's bloody remains. But there she was, sword in hand, fighting a monster that was so much frickin' bigger than its paw prints suggested, and holy crap, she needed serious back up.
Ebony ducked and rolled out of the way of a swiping claw, cursing her choice of the tartan mini-skirt tonight. As she rolled, she lashed out with her sword, slicing at the creature's legs. Unfortunately, it barely trimmed the hairs, and as she stood up, regaining her balance, pain exploded in her leg, and her wrist twisted awkwardly as her sword was knocked away. She looked up at the snarling thing before her.
"Crap."
She didn't remember too much. Being pinned down, a vice-like grip, a crushing weight on her leg; it sniffing and slobbering all over her, then more pain. She was vaguely aware of herself saying something, and she really hoped it was something sassy, because she would not go down without at least making a joke about its utterly morbid breath, and she refused to let her eyes close, no matter how swelled one of them was, or how blurry her vision was going-
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Three shots went off and the monster reared back, not fully opening its hand as it let go, and Ebony felt her skin ripping. It didn't hurt, though she could hear something sizzling, and it was probably her flesh.
Then she was aware of someone leaning over her, putting their ear by her mouth. Probably Mel, due to her hair tickling her nose. She wondered briefly where the monster had gone.
"She's breathing!"
Whoa. What had happened to Mel's voice?
"We need to get her out of here."
"Our friend Kyra has a hot-wired truck." Oh, there was Mel. "She's out by a different entrance."
"She hot-wired a truck?" Not-Mel asked.
"No time for this, Sammy," another voice interrupted. An incredibly deep and sexy american voice. "Here, I got her."
That was when she felt arms slide under her, and as she was lifted up, she let her eye close- oh wait, it already closed; when did that happen?- and drift off to the rocking rhythm that this person's hurried walk created.