Chapter 11 Setting the trap

Sam spun around to face his father. He looked exhausted and was carrying himself gingerly as if he was hurt or injured somehow.

John Winchester stood framed in the doorway. His eyes searched his son's looking for something. John liked what he saw; strength and determination were written on Sam's face and in his stance. He was very proud of the young man, proud to call him son. Why did he have such a hard time saying it?

Walking into the room he clapped a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed it. "We need to get a look at the place."

"I'll go," Mike volunteered.

"Dad, this is Mike McCarty, his deputy was with Dean when the Demon attacked. She didn't make it," Sam added quietly.

"Mike," John acknowledged holding out his hand. "I'm sorry."

The sheriff took the offered hand and shook it strongly. He was a little surprised by what he saw. John Winchester was a guarded man. His eyes flickered a welcome but gave nothing away. His emotions were bottled up hidden inside where no one could find him. Mike saw the way he looked at his son. There was tension between them and he wondered why.

Without breaking stride John dived into the discussion. "The demon won't wait long. We need to beat him at his own game. Balthazar will use Dean as bait to draw Sam out. He may not know there are more of us, but he will plan for it. The trap is already set, but we have to beat him at his own game."

"How do we do that," Mike asked unsure of what would come next in the game of hunting demons?

"We can't go to him; we have to draw him to us. We recon the fraternity house, if it's empty that's where we set up our own trap. If he's there we find a way to keep him occupied while we send his ass back to hell. My gut tells me we're running out of time."

On the wall across the room the phone rang startling all of them. Rushing across the room Mick answered it before the second ring finished, "O'Bannon's."

None of them could hear the one sided conversation but they all saw Mick's head come up sorrow reflected in his eyes.

Sam's breath caught in his throat. No, he prayed it wasn't Dean. He was alive, he would know if his brother was dead.

Mick sighed heavily and hung up the phone. "They found another body, female – hung upside down from the rafters in an old warehouse on the south side of town." He didn't tell them the woman's eyes were missing. He could see the hurt in the Sheriff and wouldn't compound it further.

Mike and Sam breathed her name together, "Beth."

Mike turned away to stare out the window. He had hoped Sam was wrong. If they didn't have a body she could still be alive, but now? Now all hope was lost, Beth, tiny petite fun loving Beth was dead.

He wanted to scream, break something – anything, it wouldn't bring Beth back, but it would make him feel a whole lot better. Instead he balled his fists, clenched his teeth and swallowed his anger. He needed a clear head for what was too come. Anger would only cloud his judgment. A moment later he turned back and drew a deep breath. "I'll take a look at the Frat house."

"First I think we all could use some food and sleep," Mick offered.

All three men wanted to protest. They needed to move, needed to be doing something.

"You know I'm right," Mick stated.

Three heads nodded but they all grumbled silently at the delay.

oooOOOooo

Four hours later they reappeared. John had managed to catch a couple hours sleep and had quickly downed a couple of pain killers. His shoulder was sore and tight, but it wouldn't prevent him from doing what he had to do to save his son. Nothing would get in the way – nothing he vowed.

Sam had managed to get a couple hours sleep, but food had been beyond him. Even the smell had made him nauseous. He sat at the table under his father's watchful eye and nibbled on an apple John had handed him. He only hoped he could keep it down.

A few minutes later Mike came through the door, his hair was mussed but he was wide awake. Special Forces training stood him in good stead. He had the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere and the alarm in his head would wake him when it was time to roll out. This day he had slept but not peacefully. Beth's face had intruded into his dreams. He would miss her.

The plan was set, and they moved through the little apartment gathering their gear. Sam sat at the table a mulish look on his handsome face. Before sleeping Sam had told his father of his fledgling abilities and his connection to Dean.

John had made it clear he was not to set foot outside the apartment until he came back. "If Dean needs you I want you to be there for him, you understand?"

"Yeah Dad," Sam grumbled. Walking away he murmured beneath is breath, "Dean always comes first."

John heard and spun his youngest son to face him. "That's not true son and you know it. I love you both equally, but right now you are the only one who can talk to him. The only one who can give us first hand information on this Demon? I need you here, Dean needs you here."

Sam's mouth gaped open, his father had actually said he loved him. He stared at his father and nodded. He was right! Dean needed him and come hell or high water he would be there for him, just as Dean had always been there for him.

oooOOOooo

Mike drove through the quiet neighborhood getting his first good look at the ravaged fraternity house. Two brick walls front and east side still stood. The rest was a burned out hulk. It seemed unlikely that anyone could be hiding there but he wasn't taking any chances.

Parking the car a block away the ex-Special Forces operative wended his way through the quiet neighborhood back to the burned out Frat house. He waited patiently in the shadows of the bushes behind the house. It was an unnatural place. Nothing moved. No birds were singing in the trees, not even a cricket's chirp broke the eerie silence.

Ready to make his move Mike saw a shadow slide across the back of the house. He froze watching as the gray figure slid behind the rubble and disappeared. A ghoul, Sam had described it. So they had been right, seconds later three more of the ghastly creatures followed. Mike desperately wanted to get inside and take a look around, but if he got caught or the creatures got his scent the trap could be sprung too soon. The Demon would sacrifice his captive if he had too. Mike couldn't take the chance.

An hour later he dared move, backing out of his hiding place slowly. Unseen he made his way to the car. The movement of the creatures was burned in his mind, the location of the entrance with it. It was a little after three when he found himself back at the bar.

Sam sat at the table broodingly silent. Dean hadn't answered his call. Unconscious? Sam could only guess.

oooOOOooo

He didn't need sleep but the body he inhabited did, but that could wait. The bait in the warehouse had been discovered, he would wait to see who showed up. His misty form hung in the darkness of the rafters, waiting. Uniformed officers and dark suited officials came and went. Nothing was out of place.

Ire grew, he wanted it, and he would have it.

Time was growing short when the scent of a hunter caught his attention.

All the suits and uniforms were gone when he heard the quiet squeaking of a side door.

Darkness circled the rafters preparing to strike.

John walked through the door his hackles rising. Yellow tape crisscrossed the floor of the warehouse. Finely honed senses told him he was being watched. His hand slid beneath his coat fingers poised over the handle of the machete strapped there. Bright eyes searched the darkness but he found no trace of an intruder. Staying alert knowing an attack could happen at any moment John started his search.

He worked his way across the room picturing in his mind the way things might have been early that morning. Dark strands of some kind of rope hung from the rafters. A pool of blood was smeared across the floor beneath it. "Beth," he whispered softly. Smears of blood a few feet away caught his attention. His heart thumped in his chest, knowing the blood staining the floor was his son's. "Dean," he cried silently.

Following the trail he found a pillar ten feet away, more blood stained the concrete. John hissed.

The Demon above him froze, the scent was the same, but this was not the one he sought. This one was different somehow; the aura surrounding him was harder, more jaded, tinged with crimson. This was a great hunter and his time to die would come soon but not now. He would watch and see where the hunter led.

The Dark Lord summoned his minions. Beneath the burned out Fraternity house two of his creatures awakened. They answered his call. Gliding through the shadows they made their way to the darkened warehouse and waited. They were mindless creatures doing their masters bidding but very dangerous.

Ghouls feared only three things, fire, a sharp blade and bright light. This day a storm had rolled in. Overhead dark clouds obscured the sun allowing them to move freely during daylight hours. Lightening flashed in the sky as they waited in the shadows not far from the back door to the warehouse.

John took his time, but he knew even before he started the search that neither the demon nor his son were in or near the warehouse.

He sighed, hoping Mike's search had been more fruitful.

Opening the back door of the warehouse he felt the fear rise up inside him. Horror filled his mind. He tamped it down, regaining control. The ghouls were here, waiting. He would play their game – for a short while.

This chapter beat me up some, hope you like, please R & R. Thanks, Huggers all.