Unsung Heroes of Today and Tomorrow
I figured that I had probably overreacted to Dean but I didn't really care. I had stopped to sit at a bus stop, not that I would have been able to catch a ride. I had no money on me. I'd been walking for a while already and although I knew where the motel was, I was more certain of the fact that I was nowhere near it. Not the best idea to be walking to someplace that I had no idea of how to get to. It was a little frustrating. But I was stubborn in the fact that I would most certainly get to the motel eventually. I supposed that it would probably be a bad idea to be wandering in this tiny town at nighttime regardless of the size. There would still be creeps out there.
And monsters.
I was beginning to wonder at the specifics about these creatures, but I had no one to ask. I wasn't sure that even if Dean or the trench coat man were here, if I would ask them. I knew that I should have asked them, were they there, but I didn't want to. I didn't like being angry. It just… it just happened. I got angry and then my temper exploded. I was going to have to work on it; I'd known that for years but it had never really made me want to change. My anger was probably a self defense mechanism and it was comfortable.
I sighed. If I was going to find that motel anytime soon, I had better be going. I didn't want to be out after night. I had the rest of the afternoon and evening to go through though. And this was a small town, so I had a good chance at finding my way back. Eventually.
I got up from the bench, stretching. I didn't even have the faintest idea of what time it was. I couldn't estimate how long Dean had left or how long I'd been walking. But I knew that it was a long while and I was starting to feel. Great way to keep in shape, walking to work, but you got used to that distance and that pace. It was going to be a lot more walking today, at my usual pace but I didn't usually walk this much.
I headed down the street, hoping that if I kept in this direction it would lead me to the more business area of town. That would be where I needed to go to get to the motel. Near where traffic from Florida would enter from. And where Dean had left me, I was under the impression, was that it was near the exit of town. So I had a fair bit of ground to cover.
As I continued to walk, I noticed an approaching motorcyclist who flew right on past me. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except for the fact that on the back of the rider's leather jacket was a large white skull with specters coming out of it. And words were written underneath it: Ghostkeeper. I frowned; it seemed a peculiar name for any sort of biker gang. Not that he necessarily was, but it was odd anyway. I watched as the rider veered down a side street and disappeared.
I eventually reached that street that he'd gone down and I was horrified when I looked down it, to notice that it was dead end. And there was no sign of an accident at all. Which was just plain weird. That rider had never left that alley. And that left a very important question –where did he go? No one disappeared into thin air –except maybe monsters. But could monsters disguise themselves as humans? Obviously vampires could and werewolves but… what about everything else? I didn't understand this as much as I should have and I felt torn because of it. I needed to have a better grasp on this. I wanted to say there was a rational explanation, but there wasn't.
His motorcycle wasn't there, leaning up against a building or wall, which would have indicated that he entered one of those houses. There was no garbage bin nearby. There was no blood. There wasn't anything. So where did he go? I couldn't find an explanation and it seemed that a cold breeze blew out from the side street and I shivered involuntarily and hurried away from it. That was just creepy. And it was most likely just a figment of my imagination.
But that same little paranoid voice that spoke up so rarely came up. What if… it wasn't part of my imagination? Then I was pretty sure that I was screwed. I was already lost, to be blunt. I knew what town I was in and I could have even supplied the very street that I was walking down, but I couldn't know that I was on the right path to the motel. I would have to get to the mall first. From there, I had a vague idea of where to continue to.
I hadn't yet found the mall. I was beginning to wish that I'd paid closer attention to my surroundings. I wasn't such an excellent multitasker that I could have a conversation with someone, over how loud and annoying their distracting music was, that I could keep in my mind where I was. No. I didn't have a GPS system built into my brain. Nor did I possess a cell phone that had one. Either way it would have my life easier. Just a little bit. I could have figured out where to go from that. If I'd run into someone that didn't look dangerous or scary, I would have asked them but it was like the town was a ghost town. Just a shadow of what it had once been.
There were more buildings boarded up than open. And the traffic was very small and light, unhurried as though they had all the time in the world. People on the street however had a certain mean look about them. At least to me they did, so it could also have just been my imagination. Or not. But I wasn't about to spend ages trying to define whether my head was playing tricks on me or not. I'd just keep going on with what I was doing.
"Hey!" a voice suddenly reached me and I looked around several times before defining who it was that was speaking to me. I'd been hopeful that it was the voice in my head, and not the guy running towards me. Anyone else. But it was a mean looking residence of this town. "You look lost."
I looked at him, half afraid and half irritated. "Was it that obvious?" I asked, cutting down on the sarcasm in my tone. Polite. Be polite.
"Well not really," he responded lightly. "You were just kind of meandering and looking a little dejected might I add."
I noticed that he was wearing a black leather jacket with the same picture and caption as the other Ghostkeeper I had seen vanish. I swallowed tightly, not wanting to mention anything about that. His eyes although a nice shade of brown, were oddly cold. He even had a posture that was intimidating, although he was just barely taller than me; he carried himself with a dangerous persona. And when someone had a front like that, they were usually just as dangerous as they pretended to be if not more.
I glanced at him, "Being lost can do that to a person."
"So you are –?"
"Not necessarily," I countered. "I'm heading in approximately the right direction." Why was I doing this? Something about these people made me distrustful. Unreasonably so. I could get directions from this guy! So why was I avoiding the point?
"Towards…"
"The mall. And from there towards a motel."
"Tourist?"
"Briefly."
"Which motel? Maybe I can point you towards it more accurately…?" Was there something even remotely suggestive in his voice…? I couldn't be sure. But if there was…
"Um I think it was called key something-or-other."
He nodded, his coal black hair bouncing. "Yeah the Keivon –that's the motel you're staying at?"
"Mhm," I said. "Where is it?" I smiled brightly. Maybe I was looking a little forced today but that was alright with me. I really did not like this guy. I wanted to get over talking with him as soon as I could.
He pointed down the street, and I caught sight of a tattoo against the back of his hand. It was in black ink from what I could see of it, and the design was quite intricate and certainly both eye catching and unusual. "You want to get to Raven Street, over there, and you're going to have to follow it all the way until Richmond Avenue where you need to turn left and keep going." He glanced back at me, smiling a smile that reached his chocolate brown eyes. "You've got one heck of a walk. I don't envy you at all."
"Thank you so much!" I beamed, hoping to remember his words.
"If you're ever in Broxton Georgia, you should try out View Derlb's alcohol. It's excellent. And maybe, once you've had a taste of it, you might decide to ask around for Cailtan Sufre." He winked, "I'll be sure to come and offer you my greetings."
I looked at him skeptically. "I doubt I'll be back here anytime soon, but if I am and I remember it, I'll give it a shot," I lied flat out. No way would I ever do that. And first off who had even heard of that alcohol? Secondly, what kind of a name was Cailtan Sufre? It could have been a girl's name for all I knew. Thirdly this town was way too weird for me to handle. No. If I had any choice in the matter, I would not be coming back here. Ever.
"Awesome. Well I look forward to seeing you again, alright?" he tipped his hand towards me and I realized that he was looking beyond me and I followed his gaze to see Sam Winchester approaching. I don't think I could have been happier to see him. He picked the perfect time. I loved nice men with a sense of timing. Whether it was intentional or not, I didn't care. "Looks like you've been found!" he said. "Lost things always find a way home. Remember me, and I will see you around." And then he finally left.
These people were all too strange and mean looking for me. So I judged them by looks, but with scowling faces, leather jackets and tattoos the majority of these people were not ones I wanted to talk to. They seemed much more suited to being the people that I left alone. I didn't care that Caitlyn had left. Sam was here. I could get to the motel. That's what was important.
"Thank god you're alright," he said, coming to stop before me.
"Thank the heavens you're here," I responded, completely relieved. I instantly felt safer and more relived. A possible effect of his height. And the fact that the creeper Caitlyn was gone. Could there be anyone creepier in existence?
"You shouldn't have ditched –no matter how annoying Dean is; he's not worth your life."
I paused, looking shamefully down at my feet. He did have a very good point there. "So do I call this the second time that you've saved my life or what?" I asked, half smiling as I looked up at him. He frowned disapprovingly. I sighed. "I overreacted, and I know that. A million different things could have happened to me, but you came here in time to prevent a murder." Whether I was referring to my own or someone else's I wasn't sure. "The trench coat man had pissed me off, and then Dean handed me a rose and I got thinking about Nico and I hope he's OK and then your lame brother used the lamest pick up line I had ever heard. So I overreacted…."
"So long as you're alright is what matters."
He was so sweet. I liked Sam, more than either of the people I had met today. "How did you manage to find me?"
He shrugged, "Left the motel with the intention of arriving at 4th and Doverly."
So I was going the right way. "How far is it back to the motel?"
"Twenty minutes, give or take."
I glanced at him. With his height and long steps, I could probably double that time. "Is Dean… mad?" I probably shouldn't have cared. He deserved what I called him. His car maybe not so much. It was a smooth ride. But it was not fuel efficient. That was my grudge against his Impala.
"No. He'd be angry if you got hurt or into trouble though."
I paused, wondering if I should mention about the strange motorcyclist who disappeared into thin air. It was Sam that I was talking to, and even if it was just my imagination, I was fairly certain that he wasn't the type of person to bring up constantly. "Um, I did see something unusual though." And I told him about the Ghostkeeper motorcyclist.
We were walking down the street and I made sure to follow Sam. It was a comfort to know that I was going the right way. I glanced at the street names, noticing that none of them were anything like what Caitlyn had said. Er Cailtan. I think that was it. His name wasn't that important to me at all. And Sam was still considering on whether or not it was a figment of my imagination. I wondered at just how many creatures there were that he had to counter check with to try and determine what if the motorcyclist was fake or not.
I had noticed that none of the street names matched up with what Cailtan had said they were. Not once did I see a Raven Street or Richmond Avenue. If I had followed his directions, where would I have ended up at? Most likely someplace I was grateful to avoid.
"I'm sorry Carissa, but I can't think of anything that would do what that… Ghostkeeper did."
"It's alright," I said with a comfortable shrug. "Probably just my imagination." I noticed his hesitation as he looked away, almost as though he was physically preventing himself from saying whatever it was that he wanted to. "What?" I asked him cautiously, holding out the vowel. It didn't strike me as a good thing that he was hesitant over saying something and I felt entitled to know, just as much as I knew that he didn't have to answer me and that I wouldn't push him further. I may have felt entitled to know, but it was up to him if he would tell me or not.
He sighed quietly, "Often enough, what you cast off as imagination tends to be all too real." He glanced towards me then, concerned, "Not that I'm trying to instill a fear of this in you or anything."
I chuckled weakly, "I'm already scared enough of it. I don't think that I can exceed my fear at this moment."
His wry chuckle echoed, "Oh yeah, you'd be surprised to find out just how much worse things can be."
I was quiet for a moment as we walked on. I wondered at what the two brothers had faced. I didn't want to know what they had faced together and how much worse things got than this. Jumping at shadows, doubting at what you just saw as being a figment or real. Was I just supposed to assume that everything was real? Assume that whatever I thought I had imagined was real? I'd find myself in a mad house that way before I could say "boo". I didn't think I would survive it.
"How do you guys… hold up against all this… evil?"
"I suppose you just… get used to it eventually. I take comfort from the good that we get out of it. We help people, save lives and all."
"The unsung heroes huh?"
"I guess you could call us that."
"Or the crazy men?" I mocked. "You guys are brave and strong for not going crazy with all this crap looming around you wherever you go. You work a self-sacrificing job that pays nothing except in people calling you lunatics. Your reward is saving them, being enough for you. Don't you ever want more? Some acknowledgment or something?"
Sam seemed to consider my question for a long moment, "Not really. I think life's easier without it. I mean if people knew who we were, whenever we stopped in a town someone would say that something was going on and we'd be sent to investigate and possibly left on a wild goose chase. Not only that, demons would be able to find us easier. And there's enough recognition out there if you know where to look."
I nodded thoughtfully. "Dean doesn't seem like the kind of person to be doing this job."
"He's nicer than he seems."
I would have to disagree with Sam. Maybe Dean was different with people he got along with but I would have to say that we definitely didn't get along. We were too something, alike or different, I didn't care to analyze which at this point in time. It would be disturbing and shameful if I had to realize that we were alike, so I was going to be ignorant about whichever it was. For as long as I could anyways.
I give my thanks to my mapper for helping me with my next chapter, and I hope your birthday was a good one.
Again, I'm going to be busy for this weekend and the following one.
Next chapter: Sisters in Retaliation.
Hope you enjoy! And special thanks to DanniMitchell85 for her wonderful reviews.
