Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. Really.
Chapter 11
They had spent two hours looking through infrastructure blueprints and aquifer plans having broken in to the city planner's office and were now less than five hours from the ritual that would pull the Spirit of Knowledge and Wisdom from a 19 year old girl, possibly killing her. Dean was edgy and irascible. He drove through the the misty night on a dark and muddy road. This, of course, added to his overall mood. He cringed at each bump and slide of the Impala's tires. Sam looked at a map using a penlight and navigated with confidence. Dean didn't feel the confidence his brother had and instead ground his teeth and clenched his jaw until he had a headache.
"Are we at least getting close?" He snapped at Sam for the tenth time since they turned onto the fire road into the wilderness.
Sam looked up and gauged the relative location out the window and consulted his phone's gps locator. "There should be a kind of ramp up here on your right, Dean." He told his brother. "When we get to the top, we park and go in the rest of the way on foot."
"Go in to where?" Dean asked.
"There is a kind of cistern in the middle of the aquifer. It's round, made of concrete and has been recently updated with private monies. The only thing in the state that has been given a infrastructure retrofit and it isn't used for anything. According to the records, it has been empty for years and now, some corporation pays for a retrofit... here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by thorn bushes."
Dean looked over briefly at Sam. "Thorn bushes. I don't suppose the thorn bushes are Gorse?"
Sam nodded as he put the maps away and watched as the car approached the top of the drive. "Be careful as we get to the top, Dean. There's a pretty steep..."
The Impala slipped on the wet pavement as Dean braked suddenly at the top, narrowly missing the drop off into the spillway. Dean cast an annoyed glance at his brother through narrowly slitted eyes as he turned off the Impala's engine and reached into the back seat to pull out his duffel.
The two men carefully walked through the gorse laden landscape to find a game trail running along the spillway. They followed the narrow track with flashlights flushing animals into the undergrowth for nearly a mile before they came to a concrete bridge over the spillway with a giant round concrete covered cistern in the middle.
Dean stepped out onto the concrete span and gripped the cable handrail to look down at the raging water. The water roared blackly, even in the light of the hand torch, under the bridge as the rain and snow melt had filled it nearly up to the top of the cistern. The mist and spray from below chilled both men even through the multiple layers and sturdy jackets they wore. They carefully tread the narrow bridge and when they reached midway over the aquifer, they reached a tall rounded wall. The dull grey steel door appeared unguarded.
Dean pulled a shotgun from his duffel bag and readied it. "When is it that easy?" he muttered under his breath. He shot a look at Sam who nodded his readiness. Dean reached slowly to the handle and turned it quietly. He pushed the door open a sliver and pushed the barrel of his gun to the opening illuminating his path carefully as he peeked in through the crack. He was able to hear a number of noises that he found distressing over the monotonous reverberation of the crashing water outside. He pushed the door wider and stepped onto a mesh landing at the top of steel stairs. Sam stepped in behind him covering Dean's flank with his own shotgun.
Both men looked over the railing to the wide room below. There was a large circle painted on the concrete floor. There were five figures in deeply cowled robes muttering in a guttural language. Around the men, the brothers could see dark shadows glide like smoke circling the perimeter, but they couldn't see what creatures cast the shadows. Inside the circle were five young women filthy from their captivity manacled to the floor. In the center, Kinna was chained with a collar around her neck to manacles on her wrists and ankles. She was muttering and rocking on her knees. Dean looked up at his brother.
Sam looked worried. Which, in and of itself, wasn't really all that out of character for him. But, the kind of worried expression on his brother's face made Dean pause and cock his head quizzically in askance.
"If the running water and gorse interrupts the casting, how are they able to use their magic down here?" He whispered "Dean, this doesn't make sense."
Dean shrugged his shoulder and readied his gun. He took a step to the stairs and moved to begin his decent. Just as he placed his booted foot on the step, he heard a strangled gasp and the clatter of Sam's flashlight as it hit the side rail and fell to the floor below come from behind him. When he turned to look, Sam was being lifted from his feet. Sam dropped his gun and reached up to grasp invisible fingers around his throat. There was a hollow breathing sound and Dean ran to his brother's side. He reached into his duffel to withdraw salt from a canister. He sprayed the salt around his brother and they saw the flickering retreat of whatever spirit was holding Sam. There was a chuckle from one of the robed figures below.
"Come in, Gentlemen." Said the necromancer they had seen in the Library at Yale. "We have been expecting you."
Sam bent to retrieve his shotgun, registering briefly how the muttered chanting continued as the men descended from the landing. "We were just admiring your decor, Gygax." Dean quipped. "It must remind you guys of your mom's basement. Aren't you supposed to play this game with dice or something?"
"Very clever." The necromancer said without a shred of humor. "I told you before, though, that our ends are not at odds. You will need to make a choice. That is what this has always been about, you know... making choices."
Dean reached the bottom of the stairs and stood with his back against his brother who was slightly turned to his right. "Yeah, I already voted. I like Coke better than Pepsi. Not because it tastes better, I just don't like the guy on those commercials. He looks like a real douche." Dean smirked.
Sam was surveying the room with a critical eye. He tried to avoid looking at the captive girls for as long as he could. He saw shadows continue to swirl and slink at the far end of the giant room. They seem to be kept at bay by some invisible force. He felt he understood what Locke had been saying about the wrongness of the creatures. He was even starting to feel nauseous in the company of the necromancer's pets.
A whimper and a scream escaped the woman in the middle of the room. Sam was unable to ignore the girls any more. His eyes zoomed to focus on Kinna. Her white complexion and wide open but sightless gaze concerned him as much as the clumps of red sticky hair on the crown of her head. She continued to rock as her slack-jawed mouth formed a grimace of pain. Sam looked quickly to see if his brother had also registered the danger.
Sam saw the look on his brother's face. He was determined to do something stupid. He was just trying to figure out how to do it with the least amount of collateral damage. What he decided to do, Sam could see in the shift of his posture, the gripping the stock of his shotgun, and the clenching of his jaw. Sam primed his own response; he shifted his stance to move when his brother did. Sam checked his brother's gaze to signal which target he would choose first and adjusted his own strategy accordingly.
Dean smirked at the necromancer in front of him. "Well, I don't suppose you'd be willing to give the girls to us would you?" He asked diplomatically.
"Decidedly not." the sorcerer said with a smile that reminded Dean of a corpse several days into decomp.
Dean shrugged and pulled the gun up to fire at the nearest figure as the robed figure muttered what they assumed was an incantation. As Dean's arm rose, so did Sam's and he shot the figure directly in front of Dean's target. Both brothers moved to take shelter behind iron tables and concrete pillars away from the spellcasters. Dean looked around the pillar behind which he had taken cover. He could see the shifting shadows at he other end of the room begin to move in agitation... or was it anticipation. The pale necromancer who had addressed them was no where to be seen.
"Sam" Dean warned.
"I see them." Sam replied.
Dean reached into his pocket and withdrew the canister of salt he used earlier. He gripped it tightly in one hand and adjusted the grip on his gun in the other. He glanced at his brother behind an iron table. He had his gun ready. None of the humans made any move to interfere with the Winchesters. In fact, they could still hear the murmured chanting continue further in the room.
They also heard the rising distress of Kinna. They needed to do something, and quick.
Dean made a hand motion to Sam who acknowledged with a nod. With military precision, the two men began to move. Dean began to walk around from the pillar to his left. Sam covered him with his shotgun until Dean made it to another pillar. Dean covered Sam as he moved. The shadowy figures at the other end were moving as well. The boys were unable to see where the head necromancer disappeared to but they knew that he was here somewhere.
All of a sudden the room was plunged into darkness. All the modern lighting, candles, everything went black. Both boys stopped moving and crouched where they were. Sam made a quick whispered call to his brother. He could hear scraping of boot against concrete to his left. He waited. There was chains clinking in the center of the room. The rhythmic clinking of chain against chain as the Seer rocked back and forth, the scraping of metal on concrete as the chain dragged on the floor.
Sam tried to reach out with his other senses to determine if his brother was still in place to his left. He could hear breathing sounds all around him. There were echoes of chanting that seemed to reverberate all over the room. His legs began to shake slightly from holding the same tense position for so long while feeling the anxiety and stress from the lack of his vision. Behind him, he felt a cold finger caress the back of his neck. His whole body went rigid and he yanked the salt canister from the leg pocket of his pants. He sprayed salt indiscriminately behind him. He heard a hollow female voice croon to him eerily from nearby. He stood alert and prepared to move.
"Dean?" he called tersely.
"Sam." Dean responded very close by. Sam exhaled thankfully. He turned toward the direction he heard his brother's voice. He shifted slowly in the crouch and shuffled one foot and then the other. He whispered Dean's name again with no response. He strained to hear his brother. He was unable to make out more than the clinking chains and shooshing of cloth against the cement. There was a whisper of of icy cold to his left. He gripped the salt container. He searched with his eyes, ears and that proximity sense that tells you that there's someone approaching. He couldn't figure out where his brother was and it was too dark to even see his hand if he waved it right in front of his eyes. Sam stopped moving.
Somewhere, on the other side of the room, Dean's voice rose in a strident call. "Marco!"
Sam, ignoring the fact that he was unable to see stood up and ran in the direction he heard his brother's voice. He heard a cackle of laughter from in front of him and stopped, crouching low and holding his gun barrel slightly down. He didn't want any mistakes in the dark.
"Boys, boys, boys... We don't have to be enemies, you know. I could bring light and you could be on your merry way. These women are no better than witches... Don't your kind hunt their kind?"
Dean's voice hovered in the air nebulously. Sam was unable to triangulate his brother's voice. "Yeah, well, these are little girls. We'd rather hunt someone with a little more teeth..." Dean seemed to be moving. There was silence except for the footfalls of the necromancer in front of him somewhere.
Then, Sam heard his brother's quiet voice in front of him, harsh and vicious "Like... you." There was a sound of scuffle, two bodies struggling and thumping of fist against body or face. There was a wet sickening sound and a low groan.
"Dean!" Sam screamed. He rose from his crouch and moved toward the sound of grunting and shuffling. A hand gripped Sam's shoulder in the dark and pulled him to the ground. Sam rounded on his attacker just to hear a hiss of pain and feel the slick sticky feel and metallic scent that could only be blood on a hand outstretched to him.
"Sam, get down." Dean's voice growled at him.
"Dean!" Sam whispered. "Are you okay?" Sam's voice grew strained and hitched an octave.
"I'm fine, Sam. I got him, too. But, I need you to get the girls."
"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.
Sam could almost imagine Dean's grin widening and his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "I am gonna kill this mother fucker."
Sam felt his brother move away, even as he reached out to try and stop him. Sam closed his eyes and sent out a silent prayer that he stay safe, then moved along the floor to the nearest girl he could hear rattling chains. He heard a soft gasp as he nearly crawled into the young woman.
"It's okay." He whispered. "We're here to help."
He felt the girl grasp his forearm and her relief evident in her sobbing voice. Sam put his shotgun in the bag he carried and pulled his lock picks from his pocket. He began trying to pick the manacle's lock. He felt a tingling in his hand and arm as he worked. It was uncomfortable and irritating, but did not hinder his progress. As the slender metal began to move toward the right, a painful shock migrated up from the lock to his hand and jarred his nerves so potently; Sam almost threw the picks as his reflexes pulled his hand away. Sam muttered a curse and shook his hand to try and return feeling to it. He could barely feel his fingers. He worried that they wouldn't have enough dexterity to pick the lock.
"Please, help us... I want to go home..." The girl sniffed. Sam could feel the girl shaking violently as she gripped his arm.
"I'm trying!" Sam assured her. "What's your name?" He asked as he put the metal to lock again.
"I'm Linda." she said. "The black things can't come in the circle... but... I'd like to go now... please!" She cried at him.
"Black things?" He asked as he worked on getting the lock picked.
"They're like shadows." She informed him. "But they... they're so cold. I thought they were ghosts, but I don't really think they are anymore." Sam stopped working long enough to pull a bit of cloth from his shirt into his teeth and tear it off. He reached up with his offhand and carefully wrapped his fingers to prevent another shock. He pulled the lock picks right again and heard and felt the satisfying click of the manacles release. He offered Linda his hand and cautioned her to stay right with him. She began pulling him into the center of the circle.
"We have to get the Seer." She wailed.
"We will." Sam assured her. Just then, the report of Dean's Desert Eagle ricocheted in the cylindrical room to ring in their ears. The muttering chant was momentarily interrupted. A shotgun blast and the eerie wail of a spirit-being resounded. Sam couldn't see him, but he knew his brother was taking out their enemies. He had to hope that Dean was being careful. Sam went back to work getting the women unchained.
Sam and Linda came to the next warm body shackled to the floor. Sam repeated the technique that released Linda. The woman fell into Linda's arms and the two women clung to each other as they moved slowly around the circle feeling their way in the dark, navigating solely by feel, sound and relative memory. The next woman they discovered lay in a pool of foul-smelling filth. She didn't move and when Sam reached down to find her wrist, it was cold. He felt for a pulse and finding none, pulled the girls toward the next girl.
Another shotgun report and muzzle blast indicated that Dean was still eliminating the spirits around the perimeter as Sam worked to free the remaining women. Sam and the two women reached the fourth abductee chained in the room. She was shaking and unresponsive as Sam worked to release her. He was bent to his work when a scream escaped one of his companions. A ragged breath and the metallic stench of blood wafted to inundate Sam's senses. Sam lifted his arm to ward off the onrushing body that overbore him, taking him to the ground. The creature's putrid breath dripped drool and Sam didn't know what else on his face as it tried to get its maw closer to Sam's face. Sam heaved to throw the body away from him. It sailed easily back but came rushing back at him. He realized as he rose to fend off the attacker that the form of the creature was small. It was petite and light.
Another shotgun blast and muzzle flash illuminated a silhouette of the creature in front of him. He could see where his brother worked nearby in that instantaneous flash. Sam reached into a pocket and pulled out his lighter having lost his flashlight earlier at the entrance. He had avoided using the lighter as long as possible to avoid the enemies seeing where he was and what he was doing. He felt this attack warranted the judicious use of light at this point.
He flicked a flame and held it slightly to his right. The soft yellow glow illuminated a grotesque form of the woman Sam recognized from the news report. It was a risen form of Kelly Savoy. She had grey milky eyes and her skin was bluish-purple. Her hungry face set in a rictus of horror, her clawed fingers reached out to Sam to grasp at him. He backed up away from her to give him time to arm himself. He had to work to get the shotgun free of the bag it was in. He raised the gun but just as the creature began closing with him, he felt a body stooped behind him and realized he had backed into Kinna. The Seer had stopped rocking on her knees and Sam heard her growl. It distressed Sam to think she might be spellbound just as Miss Savoy was apparently transformed. He had only a moment to ponder this new development because the Savoy revenant rushed him.
The revenant was nearly to him. He raised the gun and aimed at the former woman's face. He pulled the trigger as she leapt at him from a couple arms lengths away. She leapt so swiftly, his aim was slightly off and the shot pounded into her shoulder instead of her head and she twisted midair to land near the kneeling form of the Seer. Kinna seemed to be aware of the former druid falling near her.
The feral growl that escaped Kinna's lips was the only warning he got. Sam watched her in the flickering light of the lighter. The creature was still moving. He was unable reload the shotgun one handed and the lighter was beginning to heat up. He would have to release the light and plunge them into darkness again. Kinna's eyes were completely focused on the creature. Her lip was peeled in a sneer of rage. Suddenly, Kinna moved. She reached and grabbed the revenant's head. The former Miss Savoy grimaced at the Seer and lunged to try to bite her. Kinna twisted the creature's head and a piercing scream escaped its mouth to end in a gurgle. Kinna continued twisting even after the revenant was no longer moving.
Sam leaned down to touch Kinna's shoulder. The Seer flinched and let go of the creature. The other women came forward to embrace Kinna. She resumed rocking as though nothing untoward happened. The lighter in Sam's hand was so hot he was unwilling to continue holding it on. He stooped down to the women and located the lock on Kinna's manacles. He looked into Linda's eyes. She nodded grimly and Sam let the lighter extinguish.
A/N: Dean makes an off-had comment about the cola wars. I thought it would be funny to kind of reference Richard Spreight, Jr. Just to be clear, LOVE Pepsi commercials, DISLIKE with extreme prejudice the actual thing.
