Chapter 6: Meetings in the Dark

"Hey, Sammy," I greeted, walking up to the boy on the front lawn. He was squatted in the grass, playing with some toy trucks. No one else was around. Well, except for my insane brothers who are parked directly across the street.

"Kate!" The little boy looked up at me with a relieved smile.

"How are you, kiddo?" I asked and smiled back. I squatted next to him.

"I'm OK," he said, looking back at his trucks. "My mom is kind of crazy after that fire, though."

"My brother is too," I assured him. "Is she checking up on you all the time now?"

"Yeah!"

I laughed lightly at his annoyed enthusiasm. "That means that she loves you. At least, that's what my big brothers tell me."

He nodded thoughtfully and rolled a truck over the bushy grass.

"So, Superman Sam," I said, pulling out a pen and a notepad, "do you think I could get your autograph? My friends still don't believe that I met you."

Smiling bashfully, Sammy took the pen and paper and clumsily scrawled his name.

"Thanks," I said when he handed it back. "Hey, I was thinking about that night. Do you remember anything about that man who took you? Like what he looked like or sounded like?"

Sammy shook his head and pushed his truck. "He was a man, and he had a bag over his head."

I nodded. "Did he say anything else to you? Besides that it was for Dean?"

Sammy frowned. "He told me to scream as loud as I could."

My heart clenched. "One last thing, Sammy—when he hurt you, how did he hurt you?"

Sammy hesitated.

I leaned forwards and whispered, "It's OK, Sammy; I was there. I'll believe you."

"My mommy said that I wasn't really remembering right," he said softly.

"Did he have special powers, Sammy?" I prompted.

With wide eyes, Sammy nodded. "He had his arm towards me, and everything hurt."

I nodded, looked him in the eyes, and promised, "I know you're telling the truth. Other people can't imagine what you went through, Sammy, so they might say that that part wasn't real. But I believe you, OK?"

With a sad smile, Sammy nodded.

I looked back to the idling Impala and told him, "My brothers are waiting for me. But thank you for telling me what happened, Sammy." I gave him a parting smile and pointed to his trucks. "That's the coolest collection I've ever seen."

He smiled proudly while I went back to the car.

"So?" Dean prompted.

"A witch was behind the fire," I confirmed. "Sammy said that the witch was a man who wore a bag over his head."

"Great." Dean grumpily pulled the car back onto the road and headed for the coroner's office.

"No, this is good," Sam said. "This means that there's only one party behind these attacks."

"That's true," I admitted. "If there'd—"

Dean cranked up ACDC, drowning us out.

The coroner didn't give us much more than he'd already said. Both women were middle-aged, both were in the same prayer group, both had satanic markings carved into their flesh, and both bled out of their slit wrists until they died.

So now we were executing the only plan we had.

"I'm just saying that I could slap on a wig and act like a chick from Desperate Housewives, if need be," Dean offered as we pulled up to the church that night. His hands had tightly clenched the steering wheel the entire ride over.

"Dean, I got this," I assured him as I push my open phone into my rarely-used purse. "I've got my phone in my purse on speaker, so you two bozos won't miss a thing." I smiled fondly and slapped their shoulders. "Wish me luck!"

Sam gave me a tight smile while Dean didn't move from his tense position. I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the car. In heels, a modest dress, and a wedding ring (we'd hit up a local thrift store that afternoon), I wobbled up to the front steps of the Christian church.

"Wow, she sucks at wearing heels," Dean's voice said from my purse. "It's like a newborn giraffe—"

I snatched up my phone and threatened, "Put your damn phone on mute or I'm ending this call right now."

The phone went silent, and I shoved it back into my bag before heading in.

Yikes. A circle of about seven women sat in the center of the room. The pews had been pushed up against the walls.

A woman stood and greeted me with a compassionate smile. "Hello! I'm Cathy. Welcome to Sisters in Faith. Have you come for support and understanding in our Lord, as well?"

"Hi." I smiled shyly and tucked a curled chunk of hair behind my ear. "I was hoping I could join you ladies tonight? My name is—"

"Tammy!" Caroline Jenkins jumped up from one of the chairs and beamed at me. Uh, I was going to say Martha, but this seems like a lie I'll have to stick with.

I smiled back at her. "Caroline! Hello!"

She offered me a folding chair next to her, and I had to accept it. "Wow, you never mentioned that you were a widow, too."

I gave a little shrug. "It's not something I really share."

Cathy took charge of the group by standing in the center of the circle. "Ladies, I'm so happy that you could all come out tonight so that we can worship in one another's embrace." Oh Lord, please don't let that be a literal embrace. "Is there anything that any of us would like to share?" Like the fact that two of your members ended up on Satan's chopping block this week?

A dark-haired woman shot her chubby arm into the air. "I was taking my son to school today, and I found myself really missing Carlos today when I saw all of the other dads. But, I turned to the Lord and prayed for strength, and He granted it to me." She smiled serenely, and the other women clapped. I slowly joined in.

"That's wonderful, Christiana," Cathy said soothingly.

A redhead meekly raised her hand.

"Danielle, yes." Cathy smiled down to her.

"I, um, went on a walk today," she said. "I wanted to remember Tim by the river, so I went there. And, I prayed that his spirit would be with me. I think he was." Her eyes glimmered with tears. The women all began clapping with encouraging smiles.

Look, I know that this kind of support works for some people. But, I was more of a talk-about-it-when-you-literally-have-no-other-choice kind of girl. And, I guess I couldn't really—

"Caroline," Cathy called our attentions over to the blonde at my right. "This is your first night joining us. Would you mind sharing something about yourself?" This is Caroline's first night? What kind of a sane woman joins the prayer group that's getting systematically murdered off?

Caroline cleared her throat. "I've had a recent religious change. And I lost my husband about a year ago now, so I figured this could be a good place for me."

Cathy smiled lovingly. "And we love having you here. Know the Lord is smiling down upon your leap of faith." Caroline smiled her acceptance, and Cathy turned to me. "And Tammy! This is also your first night. Are you here with Caroline?"

"Oh, no," I said. "We just met the other day at the store, so it's total coincidence that we're meeting again." A little too coincidental, maybe. "I'm Tammy, and I lost my husband Mark about two years ago in a car accident. And, I'm really very happy to be getting support from you ladies and, uh, Jesus, but I was also worrying about our… safety." I widened my eyes and gave Cathy a knowing look.

Cathy's eyes became solemn. "Fear not, sister. It is a complete tragedy that two of our sisters were taken from us so recently. But I assure you, that if we come together in faith, the Lord will provide us a way." And with that vague bullshit, Cathy turned back to the group.

"Let's join hands!" Cathy moved back into the circle, and everyone held out their hands to their lefts and rights. I reluctantly took Caroline's and some random woman's hands, and Cathy began to pray aloud for strength.

About ten minutes into this speech of a prayer, I pulled my hands away and mouthed to Caroline "bathroom." I hurried to the back of the church, found the bathroom, and pulled out my phone.

"Are you two getting all of this crazy?" I asked. I looked in the mirror at my fake pearl earrings and curled hair. I smoothed my button-up dress and frowned. What about becoming a wife made it necessary to dress like this?

"I think we got all we need," Dean's tight voice came through. "You can come back out to the Impala now."

There was a sound of a struggle, and I rolled my eyes. Eventually, Sam came to the phone. "Kate, you need to talk with some of the women. See if they knew the deceased or which way those women walked home."

"Or, just wait here with me and Sammy! That Caroline chick seems like bad news!" Dean called.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I'll go try chatting if the Jesus séance is done." I tucked the phone back into my purse; their silence indicated they'd gone back on mute.

When I got back to the circle, the women were roaming around the room and not praying—thank God. I walked up to that Christiana lady as she got herself some lemon water.

"That must've been a real trial of faith today," I commented with a polite smile.

Christiana looked up at me and then politely smiled back. "If I've learned anything from these amazing women, it's that we can always place our trust in the Lord."

I nodded. "I'll be honest, sister, with all of the scary happenings in this town, in this prayer group lately?" I shook my head and pretended to flounder for words. "It's… getting harder to rely on Him."

Christiana gave me a sympathetic look. "We will be safe if we rely on the Lord, sister."

I raised my eyebrows and whispered, "So, you think that the other two… didn't put their faith in Christ?"

Christiana's eyes widened as she shook her head. "Oh, no, no. I, I just meant that even though they had this trial, they will be righted in the afterlife. They were… Sarah and Lacey were great sisters. Very devout. I would never speak ill of them." She took a sip of her water and excused herself.

Well, that didn't help much. Nothing really set the two victims apart from any of these Jesus-loving chicks.

"Tammy!" Caroline walked up to me with a smile. Something about her seemed more relieved. "This was a great night tonight, wasn't it?"

I smiled tightly back and nodded. "It was super."

Caroline let out a content sigh. "I haven't been religious in such a long time. It was… kind of nice to reconnect.

"What about you?" she asked me. "Did you rekindle religion lately, too?"

I gave a noncommittal shrug. "I've been… religious my whole life. I just don't do group therapy." She nodded, and I changed the subject. "What turned your faith around?"

Caroline opened her mouth and looked to me with pleading eyes, but she stopped herself. After a minute, she lightly grabbed my arm and asked, "Tammy, can I be honest with you?"

Oh God, where was this going? "Yes, of course, Caroline. We're sisters now anyways, right?" I offered a small smile.

She somewhat returned it. "I want to talk with you openly, but I don't think it'd be good to do so here. Could you… could you come by my house tomorrow? Just for a bit?"

Oh God, I did not want to know where this was going. "Yeah, OK, Caroline. I'll be there."

Caroline's shoulders sagged in relief, and she dropped her hand from my arm. "You're an angel, Tammy."

I grinned as she headed for the exit.

"Oh, ladies!" Cathy called as we began to disband. "In light of recent events, I think it would be safest if we all carpooled home. Please, do not walk down Sageway Boulevard tonight. Thank you! May God bring you a safe night!"

I headed for the exit, ready to take a little stroll down Sageway Boulevard.

"No, Kate." Dean's voice had a harsh finality to it. As if that would stop me.

"We're getting to the goddamn bottom of this, Dean," I shot back through gritted teeth.

Dean turned further in the driver's seat towards me. "Kate, when I said 'no,' I didn't mean it as a suggestion. You're not doing it."

"Dean—"

"And before you ask, you're not going to Freaky Caroline's tea party tomorrow either." He turned back in his seat, as if that would cut off the conversation.

"When the hell was I going to ask?! I have a car; I don't need your PMSy permission, Dean." I slouched back against the backseat and crossed my arms.

Sam held out a placating hand towards Dean. "Dean, you know that you aren't thinking straight lately. I care about Kate just as much as you do, but I think she should do this so that we can end whatever curse is holding you by your—"

"Hey," Dean warned with a scowl.

"Besides," Sam cut back in, "you know Kate is gonna do whatever it takes to get to that road, Dean. I'd personally prefer if we could be there to keep an eye on the situation rather than have her sneaking off, wouldn't you?" Ooh, nice one, Sammy.

Caught in a bear trap, Dean ground his teeth. Eventually, he exploded, "Fine! Fine!" He whipped on me with a pointed finger. "But if things go south, you get the hell out of there, Katelyn. Got it?"

Apparently, my disbelieving stare wasn't enough for him because he ground out another, "Got it?"

"God, yes, Dad," I muttered.

Dean threw up a hand. "If I'm the parent, then you're the goddamn hormonal teenager." He cranked the key and revved up the engine. He sped out of the church parking lot and took us to Sageway Boulevard.

We pulled to a stop and looked out at the expansive, fog-riddled street.

"So, do I just walk?" I thought aloud as I pushed the car door open.

"Put your phone back on speaker call," Sam said, holding up his dialing phone. I pulled mine out and repeated the process from earlier.

With a deep breath to gear myself up, I started my "walk home" down Sageway.

I'd made it about thirty feet before I noticed the black slinking into my left-field vision. I jerked my head to the left to see the Impala creeping alongside me. Dean kept his stony gaze on the road, and Sam gave me an embarrassed smile through the passenger's window.

I planted my feet on the dirt. No. There was no way this stupid plan was going to work if I had a freaking car rolling at the hip with me! The car continued to creep along, Dean oblivious to my stop. I rolled my eyes as Sam smacked his arm to get his attention.

"Why are my brothers such overprotective idiots?" I grumbled to myself.

"I've been asking myself that for a long time." A deep and gravely voice asked behind me.

I whirled around, and a man with a burlap sack over his head stood before me. He had dark holes for his eyes to look through, and the rest of his clothes were dark. He waved a hand towards me, but nothing happened. He must have seen my confusion, because he said, "All part of the show."

"Kate!" My name was muffled. I spun around to see my brothers angrily beating against the windows of the Impala. This guy's magic wave must've locked them in.

I turned back on the masked man and shoved my fear down. This isn't like before. He has nothing to do with what happened to me a year ago. This is just some psycho with a power-fixation. "Why are you doing this?"

His head tilted slightly, and he kept silent.

I balled my fists and curled my toes so that I wouldn't lose my edge. "Look, you can pretend you're the Scarecrow all damn night for all I care. But these murders? Those innocent women? The curse on my brother? That's gotta stop."

He tilted his head back so that he was staring at me straight-on. "I should kill you. Dean deserves it. I think you do too."

I narrowed my eyes. "And those women? They deserved it?!" I was seething, and he could tell. But I was also scared out of my freaking pants, and I think he could see that too.

"Collateral." He lazily glanced around me. "They're bound to break out of there soon enough. So, let me ask you, Kate: are you prepared to die?"

What the hell was this bastard's ploy? His stupid mind-games were pissing me off. "Absolutely. Now remove Dean's curse and fuck off."

"We've only started."

The sound of glass shattering erupted from behind me, and the psycho disappeared from the air.

"LET HIM GO!"

I whirled around to see Dean pointing his pistol at the wizard. With some dark magic, the wizard held his hand out towards Sam; Sam was suspended in the air with a bending neck.

I rushed towards them, preparing to jump this asshole. As I neared them, I heard the man say, "You'll burn them, too." I skidded to a stop as Sam fell to the dirt and the wizard disappeared from sight.

Dean shot the empty air, his expression full of fear and frustration.

I knelt in front of Sam, and he waved me off. We stood and faced our despairing brother.

"What the hell was he talking about, Dean?" I demanded. Tears creeped into my eyes as I thought of the way that psycho could have easily snapped my twin's neck.

With pursed lips, Dean shook his head, laid his gun on the roof of the car, and interlocked his hands behind his head.

"No!" I fired off. Sam tried to stop me, but I shook him off. "No! We're in danger because Dean pissed someone off! So, what was it? Did you sleep with the wrong soccer mom? Piss off some douche-canoe in a bar? What?!"

"I don't know!" Dean shouted back. "I don't fucking know! And, God, I know I did this, OK?! I don't know why or what the hell I did, but—" He broke off and kicked the car door hard.

Subdued, Sam and I watched our brother crumble under the weight of his self-hatred and guilt. My own shame swirled in my chest as I realized the additional blame I'd piled on him.

"I'm sorry, Dean," I said softly. I swiped away a tear that rolled down my cheek. "That was… bitchy of me." Sam wrapped an extra-long arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards his side.

Dean rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "No. You were right. And, God, I am so sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Sam insisted. "We're going to figure this out. We're going to make the long, long, long, long list of people that Dean pissed off, and then we're going to get to the bottom of this. Got it?" I nodded. Sam stared at Dean. "OK?"

"Yeah." Dean leaned his elbow on the top of the car.

Sam gave a nod. "OK. Well, hopefully, we stopped a murder here tonight. So, let's head back to the apartment and figure this out." In solemn determination, Dean grabbed his gun, and we all clambered into the Impala.

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