The Winchesters and other characters from Supernatural belong to Kripke Enterprises Inc. and the CW, not me. I promise not to hurt them and I'll put them back when I'm done.

A/N: I hope that most of you got the message that Chapter 11 was partially rewritten. Sam's arranged marriage plot point is, if not abandoned, at least moved further along in the story. Please re-read Chapter 11 if you haven't already. Sorry for the trouble. It was entirely my fault.

Sons of the Morning

Chapter 12

Salt n' Burn 101

The landscapes of the Far North are made up of people's desires and aspirations which are as much a part of the land as the wind, solitary animals and the bright fields of stone and tundra.

The physical landscape is baffling in its ability to transcend whatever we would make of it. It is as subtle in its expression as turns of the mind and larger than our grasp; and yet it is still knowable. The mind, full of curiosity and analysis, disassembles a landscape and then reassembles the pieces – a nod of a flower, the color of the night sky, the murmur of an animal—trying to fathom its geography. At the same time the mind is trying to find its place within the land, to discover a way to dispel its own sense of estrangement

From the preface to Artic Dreams by Barry Lopez.

Early morning, Dean unwound himself from his blanket and stretched. His arms curled up; his hands made fists. He stretched his legs and promptly crashed into the arm of a couch. Leaning up he surveyed his surroundings, the dusty smell of a dead fire in his nose. "Oh, yeah," he thought. "Digger's cabin." Last night came back to him; the walk through the dark camp, the glow of a campfire through the trees and the murmur of voices in the wind.

Now that he was awake he also remembered that they had a hunt to attend to. He got up to search for running water. He definitely wanted a shower. There was the smell of coffee on the air. Digger must have already got up and left on his game hunt. Dean followed his nose to the coffee pot. The kitchen was a small affair situated in an alcove. Maybe it was a lean-to attached to the side of the house. He didn't care. It had the important stuff, like the coffee pot.

After his shower he went looking for Sam. His brother was in the back room, his feet hanging off the end of a normal size bed. "Wake up, Sam." Dean smacked the bottom of an unprotected foot and Sam jerked awake.

"Jackass," Sam muttered. "What do you want?"

"Come on. The sun's up and evidently up here that means get your ass out of bed. You picked the place. I'm just following the rules. There's coffee." Dean smiled sweetly at his brother. "Move it, Sasquatch. We have to go check out that lake. Digger's already gone. Let's see if we can find our posse."

Dean wandered out on to the front porch, leaving Sam to get himself together. He grabbed his trusty blanket in passing. It was still pretty nippy outside. He sat down, wrapped up and looked out over the mountains while drinking his second cup of coffee. In the daylight it was obvious that they were pretty far up the side of a good size mountain and the view went on forever. The air was crystal clear. He could see the predatory birds out circling, looking for breakfast. Other than the sounds of movement in other cabins near by the world was still. He felt at peace, soothed by morning sun on his face.

After a while Sam came out and busted up his peace and quiet.

"Do you know where this lake is? "Sam asked.

"No, but let's go find your friend Nixkamich." Dean stood and shook out his blanket.

"No need for that," said another voice. Digger came around the side of the cabin. "I'm back. We'll get the other guys and drive down to the lake."

Digger was a good looking guy. A little taller than Dean and well built; he was dressed in the standard blue jeans, blue work shirt and denim jacket of the Western male. He seemed to be maybe 40 years old. A tough, intelligent man, he looked capable and confident. He looked at Dean. "Aren't you cute? Go on, put your blankie back. We'll go eat and get everyone else then go scout out the lake. "

At the campfire they found fry bread, beans, shredded venison and a meat stew. It looked like a standard southwestern Navajo breakfast. Dean wondered how it had come so far north. Then he spotted the tortillas warming in a pile near the fire and he didn't care how it came to be, he just dived in.

Digger approached Dean. "How many guys do you think we're going to need? There's a lot of interest in our little party."

Dean gave it some thought. "If you can get three more fairly athletic guys together that would give us three teams of two each. As long as you feel comfortable leading one team we should be covered for now. I don't know how many of these ghost monsters there are, what do you call them? May-May-Quay-Shi? I think we're just going to call them' hairy ghosts'. That work for you?"

"Sounds like a plan," Digger answered "We'll take the F-150 down. Three of us can fit in the cab; everyone else can ride in the back." He left and headed for a group of young men at the far side of the fire.

In a few minutes a group split off and Digger waved Sam and Dean over. As the group of now six men headed off to the car shed Digger introduced their new hunting buddies. "This is Nathan", a thin twenty-something with grey eyes," and Prentiss", an older, somber looking man, the shortest of the group, "and Evan", a smiling, friendly looking guy dressed in leathers. Everyone shook hands while the group was still in motion.

Evan laughed. "I gather we are going to be the Indian version of Ghostbusters? What have you got us into here, Digger?"

"We are going to get that lake cleaned out. The May-May-Quay-Shi have been causing trouble lately and we are going to sort them out. Sam and Dean here are experts, if you can believe it, in ghost and monster clean ups and they are going to show us how to get rid of these sad souls once and for all."

They approached a dark brown Ford truck parked on the side of the road and everyone climbed in. With a rattle and a roar they took off down the dirt road, the three guys in the back laughing and holding on as well as they could.

It was like driving through a cathedral of trees. The road had been cut through under the branches and the pine boughs arched overhead. Dean bet himself that this road was invisible from above. Animals skittered out of the way. Deer and squirrels and Dean thought he saw some kind of big cat. In the trees more squirrels, members of the weasel family like pine martins and birds flittered and flashed.

Soon enough they dropped down the side of the mountain and parked beside a crystal blue lake. Getting out of the truck, they shattered the silence. Birds took off in a flutter of wings. Something large moved through the underbrush, away from them. Tree squirrels chattered their annoyance and rustled off through the branches.

Dean stood at the shore of the lake, wind driven ripples tossing soft water drops at him. The lake was long and narrow and nestled up against some porous looking cliffs on the opposite side. He could see shallow caves speckling the face of the cliff.

"Is that where your ghost monsters hang out?" He asked Digger, waving his hand at the caves.

"Unfortunately, yes." Digger responded. "How do you think we should go about this?"

"Well, looking at the layout I think we need to do some prep work. Hey, Sam."

Sam looked up from the weapons duffle. He had been sorting out shotguns and salt filled cartridges. Nathan, Evan and Prentiss were already armed and checking out the guns Sam had passed out.

"What do you want, Dean? Do you think that Holy Water is going to do any good? Should I pass it out too?"

"Wouldn't hurt. Lots of Christianity mixed in with the Native beliefs. Makes Digger mad. Come on over. I need to brainstorm with you."

Sam snickered. "More like a spring shower than a storm."

"Shut up." Dean bounced back. "Smart-ass. Ok, what do you think? I think we all start crawling around those cliffs over there, looking for bones."

Dean stopped. "Anyone here have problems handling bones? I know the Navajos do. What about you guys?"

Digger looked up at his friends. "No religious problems that I know of. Any problems for any of you?" His three friends all indicated no, either shaking their heads or just replying "Nope."

"All ready to go, Dean."

Dean went on. "Well I see it as a scavenger hunt. All six of us go in these caves and look for human bones. If you find any then drag them out to the front where we can find them at night. I don't want to light them up in the day time. "

"I agree," said Digger. "You make smoke in the day time and we'll have forest service helicopters down our necks in the blink of an eye. The fire watch out here is serious."

"Then that's what we'll do. Even though it's daylight, we do this in teams of two. Nobody does anything by themselves. It's not safe. It will be more dangerous at night when these things should be more active and I guarantee when you salt and burn the bones you are going to get pissed off visitors. Two guys, working together; one on the gun, one on the fire. We try to keep everyone safe and not break our necks climbing around the cliffs either."

They all start off around the lake. After a while they were all over the cliff face, calling to each other as they found bones. They soon figured out that they needed markers of some type and Digger went back to the truck. He came back with handfuls of shop rags and they tied a rag to mark each bone pile. After a couple of hours they climbed back down to where they parked the truck and surveyed their work. The cliff was now marked with fluttering blue and red rags.

"Looks good to me." Dean said. "Digger, while I was crawling around that cliff it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to rope in a couple of more guys to actively watch our backs. If someone falls or gets hurt maybe you can find some guys to act as medics and rescuers. I want the remaining teams to be able to keep going. Once we start this thing it's going to be like sticking your hand in a wasps nest. We're going to want to finish it."

They all loaded back in the truck and drove up the mountain. In the truck cab Dean, Sam and Digger completed their planning. Dean realized that with eight or ten total guys this was possibly the largest hunt he had ever organized, with regard to active hunters. They had twelve bone piles to burn; four for each team. They agreed to tell Evan, Nathan and Prentiss to pick their own back up and to tell the new people how to take over the hunt if one of the original team members was hurt.

"What about the ghosts that don't have bones?" Digger asked.

"That what we have Sammy for." Dean nudged his brother. "Sammy can talk them to death."

"Ha, ha," responded Sam. "It's not quite like that."

"Well, how else would you explain it, Gigantor?"

Sam turned in a huff and stared out the window. Sometimes Dean's sense of humor just escaped him. He had no good response.

At the top of the mountain everyone bailed out of the truck and went on their separate errands. Dean went back to the campfire and watched his brother wander off to where a group of women were making tortillas.

Dean noticed that Ayamis was one of the women and saw Sam squat down beside her. They started talking and it looked to Dean like Ayamis was trying to get Sam to make a tortilla. She handed him some dough and made patting motions. Sam was laughing. The dough almost disappeared in his huge hands.

Dean's cell phone went off. Surprised he could even get a signal, Dean answered the call. "Hello?"

"Dean, it's Paul again, from the campground in West Virginia."

"Oh, yeah. Hi, Paul. What's up?"

"Are you and Sam somewhere in Canada at a hotel called the Banff Springs Hotel?" Paul asked.

"Yes, we are. How did you know?"

"Because I heard those guys I told you about before talking about it. They must think I'm part of the furniture around here because they sure shoot off their mouths here in the store"

"Well, Paul," Dean told him. "If they are the people I think they are they aren't known for their brains, only their attitudes."

"The way they were talking this afternoon and the stuff for the road they bought, makes me think you might be seeing them in three or four days."

"Thanks again Paul. We really appreciate the heads up. These guys are bad news and I'm real grateful for the warning. Bye."

Dean closed the phone and contemplated the Cantrells. He knew what he would like to do to them but there was that pesky Hunter's rule about not killing humans. Once again he wondered if the Cantrells strictly qualified as human. He figured he'd talk it over with Sam later. Right now he was watching a relaxed Sam smiling and laughing and patting his tortilla flat for Ayamis' approval.

He also tried to think of a good payback for a snotty hotel clerk named Cubby. Dean was willing to bet Cubby had run his credit card and got their information out on the system where it could be hacked.

They all ate dinner just before sunset and when twilight set in got back in the truck for the trek down to the lake. They now numbered nine. Evidently everybody brought a brother along for the party. The truck bed was full of siblings.

It was full on dark when they got to the bottom of the hill but the cliff face glowed pale in the moonlight. As they started arming themselves and getting ready to hike around the lake Dean noticed movement around the mouths of the caves. He motioned for everyone to be silent. They all watched as dark, nasty forms materialized and started creeping head first down the cliffs, like fat giant spiders. It was one of the creepier things Dean had ever seen in a life time of creepy things.

"OK men; let's go get these things gone." Dean started out for the other side of the lake

The closer they got the more the May-May-Quay-Shi noticed them. The creatures lifted their heads like they were scenting the hunters. Dean remembered Nixkamich saying that they had no noses and their faces were covered in hair. He never met anything he had wanted gone more.

They broke into teams and climbed to their targeted caves. Dean heard the whoosh of fire and one of the creatures on the cliff face screamed and burst into flames. That got the attention of the rest of them and just as they had crept down the cliff now they were turning and climbing back up.

Dean sounded the alarm. "They are coming back up, be ready." He saw flames reflected on the ceiling of a cave and another creepy crawly lit up. Now there was also the sound of shot guns being fired. This was turning into a supernatural pitched battle.

He hit his first cave. Nathan was his gun man. Dean had the salt and gasoline. He went as fast as he could but heard Nathan rack the shot gun. The noise of the gun firing thundered in the cave.

"Light the damn thing up Dean." Nathan screamed. Another shot pounded his ear drums. The flames arced toward the roof and the scream of the ghost replaced the sound of the gun.

After about an hour of gunshots and flames and screams they climbed back down to the lake and returned to the truck. No one had been hurt. Evan had caught his pants leg on fire but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. All the brothers greeted each other and Dean realized that he had just created a cadre of seasoned hunters.

He stood next to Sam. "What do you think, Sam?"

"There are still more of them out there but they seem old and weak. Maybe Nixkamich is right and they fade as they age. I could try to talk them gone but why don't we just check tomorrow night and see what I find." Sam seemed meditative.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean answered. "Let's go up the mountain and get some sleep. We'll deal with tomorrow when tomorrow gets here. Something you should think about though. Remember that fossil bed that started all this? Do you still want to go there?"