I own nothing but my evil schemes and cliff hangers.
.~o()o~.
Sam stepped quickly between Andrew and Leah, flinging up one massive hand and concentrating. "Rookie move, demon," he growled. "Haven't you heard the rumours?"
"Yes, I have, ALL the rumours and the newest ones say you are running on empty. You gotta have fuel to keep the engine running and I know you haven't bled the bitch for months."
"What is he talking about, Sam?" Leah's voice quavered from behind him.
"Yeah Sam, tell your little girlfriend all about the things you did in the dark while big brother was away; about rolling around in the tangled sheets with your demon lover, her poison sliding down your throat and you, all too eager to drink it down just like one of the filthy creatures you hunt. Go on, tell her that you aren't one of the good guys anymore."
"You bastard," Sam snarled with so much venom that Leah paled and stepped away from him, for the first time frightened. "I hunt evil and you are going back to hell where you belong."
"You can try," Andrew said placidly.
From her place behind him, she saw Sam's shoulder's go tense and he trembled, ever so slightly. Andrew's eyes flickered from black to blue and back again and he choked on the thin stream of black smoke beginning to trickle from his mouth.
Suddenly, a ghost flickered to life behind Sam and plunged its hand and arm right into his back. Sam gasped in pain and wobbled slightly before straightening up again, determined to get rid of this demon in spite of the cold paralysis spreading throughout his torso. Leah tried to pull the ghost off him but her hands passed through it like water.
Demon smoke poured thicker now from Andrew's mouth and he yelled in agony, trying to close his mouth, to keep it from spilling out on the ground.
The ghost took its other hand and plunged it into Sam's head. For one long, agonizing moment, the world stopped breathing. Sam was frozen in place, arms falling limply to his sides, then he screamed, limbs jerking uncontrollably, unable to collapse as two more ghostly forms came up beside him, gripping his arms with one hand and plunging the other into his body. His screaming cut off abruptly. Leah couldn't even tell if he was still breathing and still his entire body spasmed uncontrollably.
Leah wept, trembling with the need to go to him, but the same spirits that earlier could not be grasped now stood solidly to bar her way. Sam's shotgun lay at his feet, but it might have been on the other side of the lake for all the good it did her.
"That's enough," Andrew said softly. "We don't want to kill him. We will leave that to Charis."
The ghosts drew back and Sam slumped bonelessly. Leah darted forward and was barely quick enough to keep his head from striking the ground.
His eyes were closed and his face was pale, but his heart raced away and his breath was coming in great shuddering gasps so Leah knew he was alive.
"You monster," Leah shouted, cradling Sam's limp hand and pulling it to her cheek.
"Haven't you been paying attention? He's the monster," Andrew grinned. "If I killed him, I would be doing the world a favour."
"No, I know Sam. No matter what he has done, he will never be a monster."
"People change," Andrew shrugged. "By the way, do you like it?"
"Like what?" Leah asked wearily.
"Why, my army, of course. Its taken me decades of work to get them to this point, first of all to make sure they all died violently, then to bury them where no hunter could dig them all up and release them. Then there were the years spent whispering to their souls, coaxing them to wakefulness, making them subject to my words and then driving them mad. Finally, all my work is paying off.
"Everywhere they look, they see Edward Randall. Dean is Edward Randall; Sam is Edward Randall and soon I will set them loose on a world full of Edward Randall's. And people like him. . ." Andrew pointed at Sam. "Their powers may work on me, but not on ghosts. They will be an unstoppable force. Nothing will touch them. They will just grow angrier and angrier and they will never find their revenge. You see, Edward Randall has already moved on. I burned his bones myself. They will serve me forever."
Andrew stepped closer, reaching out a hand to Leah's tear-stained cheek. "Don't cry, little one, your death will be swift."
Leah angrily pushed his hand away.
Andrew chuckled and stretched out his hand toward the shotgun lying on the grass, a stream of fire coming out and melting it into useless scraps of metal. "So you can't fight your way out," he smiled pleasantly. "I will give my best to Dean and the others." Then he disappeared, leaving Leah cradling Sam on the ground.
.~o()o~.
"Dean? What are we going to do?" Shelby whispered.
"I am working on it, keep your pants on or, you know. . .whatever." Dean crouched over Shelby.
"Not funny," she hissed.
"Come on, it was a little funny," his eyes darted wildly around the car, measuring the distance of the ghosts from the car. What he wouldn't give to have his gun in the back seat instead of in the trunk. His eyes landed on his leather jacket and he eased it over Shelby's bare back. "Drop to the ground, pull this over you and don't put your head up until I tell you. I am getting you out of here." He handed her his cell phone. "Call Sam, hopefully he will be nearly back to the campsite and he will be ready for us. I am getting us out of here. Do you trust me?"
Shelby nodded and Dean flung himself across the seats into the drivers turning the key and starting the Impala with a roar, he was in gear and stepping on the gas immediately. "I'm sorry, baby, I know its rough, but you gotta get us out of here. I'll make it up to you. I'll get you new tires and a I'll do a tune up and I swear I will clean and wax you. I'll go over your seats with a toothbrush and bang out the dents and fix your windows." He drove straight at the line of ghosts, bumping over the rough ground, taking the straightest route back to the campsite.
"Less making love to your car and more driving," Shelby said from the backseat, holding on for dear life.
"I will get us there. Did you get ahold of Sam?"
"I keep getting voice mail."
"Damnit! Keep trying!"
"Ok, are we almost there?" Shelby tried to peek over the seats.
"Keep your head down, we aren't out of the woods yet," Dean barked. "I'll tell you when to be ready to jump out."
There were tense minutes of bouncing and crackling and rattling and wind whistling through the broken windows until Dean whispered harshly. "When I tell you, throw open the door on your right and get inside the salt circle around the tent, just worry about getting yourself inside. I'll make sure the salt line is unbroken. You make sure Samantha and Nathan don't come out."
"Aye aye, Captain," Shelby said, her voice shaking.
"Ok, NOW!" Dean shouted and Shelby was moving instantly. She was in the tent in seconds and soon Dean was crowding inside after her, both breathing hard.
"Not that I want them to be here to witness our current nudity, where the heck are Samantha and Nathan?" Dean asked as his breathing began to calm down.
Shelby pulled out her phone and called her. "She isn't answering."
Dean reclaimed his phone and tried Sam again. "Neither is Sam. What about Leah?"
Shelby listened for a while then looked up with worried eyes. "No, nothing."
Dean peeked out of the door of the tent. There were at least ten times more ghosts out there than they had seen before. "And we aren't going anywhere without a cannon. Let's just hope they can take care of themselves. Are you hurt?"
"No, you got on top of me pretty fast," It was a measure of Dean's worry that he didn't immediately jump on her unintentional innuendo. Then Shelby noticed how uncomfortable Dean looked and how he couldn't seem to sit still.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, I am fine. Don't worry about me." At Shelby's raised eyebrow, he flushed and confessed. "There was some glass on the front seat and I kind of sat on it, but I am pretty sure none stayed in there and at this moment, we need to find out where the others are and how the hell we are going to get out of this one."
"Maybe we should start with clothes. . ." Shelby said, trying to smile but so obviously barely holding on.
"Yeah, but first. . ." Dean wrapped his arms around Shelby. "Trust me, we are going to make it."
He was still holding her when the wind picked up, flinging salt against the side of the tent, poles cracking and canvas ripping, every barrier between them and the angry ghosts around them slowly coming down.
.~o()o~.
Alright, I have done my part, now feed me(reviews that is)