Bonus Chapter 3
John raced into the clinic after Dean, following the swarm of Gremlins that had honed in on Sam's scent. Sam was asleep. Sam was unarmed. Sam was vulnerable. The nasty little beasties would rip his son to pieces in minutes.
Gun fire blazed ahead. Shouts and thudding. Little monster shrieks. John skidded into Doc Wal's personal quarters, his own gun instantly firing. Gremlins were everywhere, Dean shooting point-blank into them, but having little effect. There were beasts shredding the couch. No Sammy. Gremlins on the dressers and TV cabinet. Gremlins climbed up the ceiling, pouring into a square hole—attic access—coffee table below. Sam must have pulled himself up inside there. Good boy. John nearly bent in two with the relief, except his boy was in the attic now with however many of the monsters got up in there. Bangs and crashes thudded above them.
"I'm out!" Dean's gun clicked. The kid disappeared through one of the doors.
John kept firing, knowing his clip didn't have much more either. He leaped onto the coffee table, concentrating on the Gremlins closest to getting into the attic, and shot a hairless monkey right in the eye. It thumped to the floor. Hard to kill his ass. There was more than one way of getting past an impenetrable skull.
The Gremlins went crazy. Soap or no soap, they rushed John, bearing him down and dragging him across the room. For such little guys, these beasts were strong. Suddenly Dean was back, flinging a bucket of white powder over them all.
Little nasties howled, jerking away and jumping around like they'd been burned, shaking and slapping at their heads. Dean flung out more powder and the Gremlins scattered, yowling and crashing through every door, through windows, a few into the attic to get away from the soap.
Dean reached down, assisted John up. "You bit?"
"No." John rubbed soap powder from his eyelashes. "Good thinking." The thuds overhead had moved to another part of the clinic. John rushed outside, backing up enough to see the roof. Doc Wal ran up to him from the barn, a couple of rifles in his grip. "Is there a rooftop access to your attic?"
The Doc's scraggly brows rose. "They're in my attic?"
Several of the Gremlins that had scattered outside were now climbing up the side of the clinic. "Dean! Get that soap out here!" John grabbed one of Doc's rifles and began shooting, even as he moved closer, trying for more eyeball shots, even as he wondered why Dean hadn't shown yet.
Doc ran toward the other end of the building. "Attic window on this side!"
John swiveled and sure enough, there was Sam, pulling himself onto the peak of the roof from the window John couldn't see on the other side. He watched, heart lodged in his throat, as Sam ran across the roof, a slew of Gremlins galloping after him, more coming from the other end. Come on, Son. If Sam could make it down to the edge, it wasn't that far of a drop. John cringed as Sam slipped, his socks providing no traction, and quickly recovered his balance. "Sam!" Come on, come on. John just wanted his son down off that roof, where he'd shove him behind him and douse him in that soap powder.
Sighting a beast several paces behind Sam, John pulled the trigger. He didn't dare shoot any closer to his kid. Beast paused, hissed, and leaped ahead. Realizing he was caught behind two groups of nasties, Sam started angling downward, socks slipping on the tiles.
"I'm right here, Sam. I'll cover you!" John ran toward the middle of the building to meet him. He was going to make it. Sam was going to make it. Just get to the edge and jump. Gremlins launched at Sam, pulling his legs out from under him. He went down hard, sliding headfirst down the roof on his back.
Shit! John dropped his gun and raced forward as though he'd be able to catch the teen, at least break his fall. Sam fell headfirst over the edge and jerked to a stop, dangling upside down. Several Gremlins had hold of his legs.
"Dad!" Sam's tone sounded very young and striped with fear. Long arms stretched out for John like they had when Sam was small and wanted to be picked up.
"Got you!" In easy reach, John latched onto Sam, hand's looping beneath his armpits. "I got you," John gritted out, heaving against the strength of the Gremlins, feeling his son being pulled upward. Where the hell was Dean?
Doc Wal joined in the tug-of-war, grabbing onto Sam, but their combined effort wasn't a match for the supersized strength of one Gremlin, let alone several. John roared. He was not giving up.
Sam screamed. John's gaze wrenched up to the roof where a Gremlin lifted its head from Sam's ankle, razor teeth dripping red. Growling with rage, John pulled harder.
"Dad . . ." Sam clung to him, fingers digging into John's forearms, his voice vibrating with fear and tears. "Don't let go of me."
"Not letting go. Never letting go."
But Doc Wal did.
Gnarled fingers flew to Sam's belt, scrabbling to get it loose, popped open the button beneath and grabbed onto the kid again. With one giant heave, they pulled Sam right out of his jeans and thumped to the ground in a snarl of arms and legs.
John didn't have time to make sure Sam was okay because the Gremlins dropped around them even as John dove on top of his son, shielding him with his own body as the beasts clawed at his back, trying to peel him off.
"Stay down!" Dean's growl. John covered Sam's face as a spout of flame roared above them, then moved away in another direction. A cacophony of shrieks rattled the air. "Go! Go!" Dean shouted.
John looked up, seeing Gremlins turn into fire balls as Dean poured bursts of fire into them with little more than spraying some kind of aerosol can flamed by his lighter. He had several more cans balanced beneath his armpit for extra ammo. Doc jumped up, scooping up the rifle and firing.
Dean yelled over his shoulder. "Get him out of here!"
John hauled Sam off the ground. Soap. Kid needed that soap. The way to the clinic was blocked by angry, swarming Gremlins and spinning fiery husks, leaving smatterings of fire all over the ground. The Gremlins that got past Dean and the doctor were edging toward him and Sam.
John nudged Sam toward the barn, threw his arm around his waist when the kid nearly went down on the first step, and drew him close, helping Sam hobble across the gravel and into the barn.
"Dad."
"I see them. Keep going." Gremlins scurried upside down across the top of the ceiling, stilling and sniffing the air. He had to get Sam out of here. John prodded Sam forward, moving quietly with him toward the other end of the barn, toward the large open door leading out.
The pregnant cow watched them go past, round eyes wary. John didn't know how a cow's thought processes worked, but had the unmistakable feeling this cow was thinking an equivalent to holy effen shit.
They made it to the door without any of the Gremlins dropping down. Outside, John surveyed their options. A dry grassy field beyond, stretching for miles. And another older, much smaller barn, most likely the original by looks of the weathered wood.
"This way." They could barricade themselves in there until Dean could get the soap to them. John pulled Sam with him and was hit from behind, shoved to his hands and knees, dragging Sam down with him. Damn stupid ape-monster stomped across his back and grabbed up Sam, pulling the kid away from him.
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Dean raced through the large barn just in time to see his dad knocked flat and the same Gremlin drag Sammy into the grass when two or three more of the little beasts latched onto him. They yanked on his brother, fighting over him like dogs over scrap meat. They were going to tear Sammy apart and Dean was still too far away to pour flame over them.
"No!" He raced across the ground, the long-legged vet close on his heels, his own lighter and aerosol in hand.
But John was faster. Dean had never seen his dad fight like that. Their father flung Gremlins off Sam like he possessed the same superhuman strength they had. John was all fists and elbows and kicking boots, though he couldn't keep the Gremlins off long, or keep them from leaping back at Sam. John finally dug enough of an opening and hauled Sam up, where they ran, half-stumbling into another small barn, slamming the old door behind them.
By that time, Dean was in range and poured aerosol-born gouts across the Gremlins. Doc's stream of fire joined his. The monsters shrieked and burned, exploding into flame, skidding and spinning across the field. Dean briefly wondered if they might cause a wilderness fire, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He sprayed fire over the beasts, unrelenting, herding them away from that barn . . . until spazing out, overlong arms flapping, one of the creatures broke away and ran spinning into the barn door, bursting through, trailing fire that caught instantly on the old wood.
No problem. They could put that out. Dean was about to shout a warning to his dad when a loud concussion of air ripped through him, smacking him to the ground. A large eruption of fire plumed up, breaking through the roof and tearing the walls apart like a land mine going off. A wave of smoke rolled outward like a giant smoke ring and all went quiet.
Dean stared from the ground, frozen, his heart seizing painfully as smoke rolled over him. The barn was destroyed, completely gone, just demolished heaps of blackened smoldering and burning boards.
Dean couldn't move, he couldn't move. His family, his entire world was in there.
TBC