Chapter 4:
Cat pulled her '85 Mustang over to the curb, parking. After double-checking her gear, she got out of the car, cased the area, and walked over to the curb. She glanced up at the sign, which read East 29th and Main Street, and looked up and down the road before she leaned back against the brick wall of the apartment building, waiting for the boys.
Cat decided she liked Sam. Dean, not so much. He was too cocky, and cocky guys got into trouble. Sam was smart and could take a step back and look at a situation, unlike Dean who was more likely to shoot first, ask questions later. She'd heard as much about them, but had never experienced it first-hand.
Little Miss Kitty-Cat, Cat thought with a snort. He was a real piece of work.
Cat suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She didn't move. A few seconds later, she looked toward it, but, as she'd expected, there was nothing there. She tucked her hands under her arms and put a nervous look on her face, beginning to pace back and forth. She slouched a bit too, darted her eyes back and forth a bit. If someone mistook her for a homeless kid or a druggie, they might target her. Which was good for her. Bad for them.
After a few more seconds passed, she heard footsteps. They were soft. Whoever was walking was trying to be quiet. There was only one set of footsteps, so she knew it wasn't Sam and Dean. She suddenly realized the footsteps were on the rooftop of an apartment. It was above her and coming closer. Whatever it was, it was going to try to take her by surprise.
Cat continued to pace nervously. Then she felt the presence right above her. She stopped pacing and forced herself not to look. Get ready. Three…two…one… She heard a whoosh and jumped into the street, falling into a roll and springing up with her gun in her hand. The wolf landed right where she'd been with a loud growl, showing teeth. She took one look at the werewolf, her brain computed what it was, and she emptied the magazine into it's chest, aiming directly for its heart.
The werewolf stumbled and fell, transforming back into the young man it was, and blood started to spread around him. A car came driving quickly down the road and Cat's eyes darted to it. She dashed around the corner and jumped for the fire escape, climbing up and sitting against the wall. She wanted to be nearby if it was the boys, but able to get out of there if it was a concerned citizen or cops who happened to be around.
The car skidded to a stop and two doors open. "Damn," she heard a male voice say. She recognized it as Dean's and swung herself over the bar of the fire escape, lowered herself, and dropped to the ground. The force stung for a few seconds, but not much, and she stood up, walking around the corner. Dean's car sat in the middle of the street, its headlights on the dead body.
"Took you guys long enough," she said, raising an eyebrow as she went over to them.
"We weren't parked closeby," Dean snapped.
"Well, lucky I was here," Cat said, looking from the naked dead body to the boys. "For us at least. Not for him. He came at me from above." Cat glanced up to the top of the three-story apartment building. "I got out of the way, emptied my Glock into his chest."
"Looks like," Sam replied, nodding.
Cat's half-smile suddenly turned sour, however, when she heard something from down the alley nearby. She cocked her head slightly, listening.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
Cat held up a hand, a signal to be quiet, before she looked to her left. She redrew her weapon, causing Dean and Sam to do the same. She made two military signals, for Hear and Enemy. Sam and Dean nodded, looking slightly frustrated that they couldn't hear anything, but then a sound echoed down the street, a sound that Cat knew they'd heard too.
The three turned toward footsteps coming down the street and saw two young men walking quickly toward them from the north. A few soft bangs from above told them that there were more on the fire escapes around them.
"Oh you gotta be kidding me," Dean murmured. "Since when do these things tag-team?"
The three put their backs together, creating a trianglular defense, and Dean was the first to raise his weapon, then Cat, then Sam.
"Hold it," Dean snapped.
"We're not here to hurt you," one of them replied.
"Then what's with the surrounding tactic?" Dean asked. "In case you didn't know, it tends to make people with guns a little itchy."
The young men stopped about ten feet from them on every side. "We were closing in on David." He glanced to the dead body to their left.
"Hate to break it to you, but you're a little late," Dean said.
"What did you want with him?" Cat repeated.
"We wanted to cure him."
"You're going to cure death?" Dean asked.
"No," he replied. "Lycanthropy."
