Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. I'M REALLY WORKING HARD TO FINISH THIS STORY RIGHT. I APPRECIATE ALL THE COMMENTS. ENJOY!
"Dean, do you have any idea where she ran to," Sam huffed as he ran next to his brother, gun in hand.
"Well, she ran into the woods going East, from the looks of her footprints," his brother surmised, holding onto his shotgun. He pointed his gun at the sloppy print she left in the mud. Thank god for that rainy night before. The muddy impression was definitely from a woman's boot. Could it have been from someone else? Perhaps, but at that point, they were willing to take any clue they might have.
"Other than that," Dean continued, "I was half asleep and kinda shocked that she just bolted out like that. Took me a minute to figure out what in fuck's sake was going on. Though I was dreaming for a moment. It's not everyday your wife decides to jump through glass two stories up, ya know?"
Gwen blurred ahead of them, an amorphous streak until her pursuit grounded to a halt. She stood on top of a large, charred tree stump, an apparent victim of a lightning strike. She searched the area around her, sniffing the air for any aroma that could lead her in the right course. In the moonlight, she looked like a vampire should; pale, lithe and cunning.
"That way," she pointed towards the right direction-he hoped.
The Winchesters started out after her, following as close behind as possible. It wasn't easy keeping up with something with that much speed and power, but he had to do his best. God only knew what could be up with Abby. Was she in trouble? Did she run off on her own accord; had she finally gotten sick of her life with his brother?
Sam was worried about his brother's mental state. The man had to be on the verge of snapping and he'd rarely seen Dean truly crack. It was atypical. Sure, his brother could be a cocky hothead during hunts, but he managed to keep his cool whenever others were in danger. Tossing Abby and April into some possible fray at the same time was something nobody thought could happen; it was an intense situation for all.
Sam made sure to jog ahead and keep his stride in line with Dean. Being irrational could be dangerous for them all. He had to be stable for his older brother.
Her eyes were heavy as she opened them for the first time. Slowly, she separated her lids, finding her gaze following the lines of the gauzy fabric grazing the top of a canopy bed, the wooden beams of a cathedral cabin ceiling high above.
How did she get there? Where was there?
She looked from side to side, her head cushioned by a mountain of expensive pillows.
Carefully, she set herself upright and took a closer look at her surroundings. She found herself in an elegantly decorated bedroom, full of antique furniture and the finest linens one could even hope to dream of. In fact, she was pretty sure the elaborate covers draping her body were turn of the eighteenth century linens. They were pristine; not one single thread out of place on the down-filled piece of art. Even with all of her amassed wealth, she would not have been able to afford it.
Where the hell was she?
Abby's mind cleared the fog and then she remembered: she'd been late. Damn it, how could she have done that and let them take her...daughter. April.
She jumped out of bed as fast as she could, searching for an exit. No windows. The only way in-or-out of the room that she could find were the intricately carved, double wooden doors. Before she could even get to her escape, they opened. Two large male vampires, whose aura seemed very old, stood in front of her. They were probably the same ones that had helped capture her in the clearing.
One of them handed her a robe. Abby glanced down at herself to find she had been put into an elegant satin cream nightgown while she was unconscious.
At first she refused the shift, telling the brute 'no thanks.'
"I insist, my Lady," he said in a way that he didn't quite insist; it was an order.
She snatched the robe out from his grasp, gracefully wrapping herself in its warmth. They gestured for her to continue down the hall, the two escorts following close behind.
Abby passed many doors, all elaborately carved as her own, as she walked. Whatever this place was wasn't just a house; it was more like a hotel. From the art deco style throughout, delicately carved on the heavy wooden doors and beams, she knew the building had to be at least ninety-five years old. Wherever they were, it was not showing it's age. It must have taken an overabundance of funds to restore it.
She reached a landing with some stairs going up, some going down and paused. The bigger kidnapper pointed for her to ascend. She reluctantly obliged.
At the top landing, two doors opened for her at her approach.
The doors revealed a huge, cavernous space, the ceiling rising high above the floor, held up by heavy wooden beams. The center of the ceiling was an elaborate stained glass roof, the rain outside tinging against the panes. The inlay of the floor told her that the room had once been used as a ballroom or first-class gathering space, still in the art deco style she had seen around more prevalently many years before.
Instead of it's original intention, the room had been changed into a large seating area, many comfy looking chairs and chaises in a circle in front of a massive fireplace, which was currently blazing.
Fresh roses, all in white, filled crystal vases atop several side tables next to some of the chairs.
"Sit," the man said from behind her.
She walked, her feet lightly hitting the inlaid wooden floor, not a scuff felt beneath her toes. Abby took her time across the floor, keeping an eye out for escape routes. There were a few windows throughout the room, but none with a visible latch that could easily be opened. In front and behind her were also several doors, but she could sense people, guards perhaps, on the other side of each. Once again, there was no way to get out...unless she managed to improvise. Even that was probably just wishful thinking. In her current woozy state, with all those vampire guards, she was guaranteed toast.
Abby took a seat on a white chair, keeping her feet planted on the ground just in case she had to make a break for it.
She couldn't tell how long she stayed there; maybe a few minutes to an hour. There was no way to be completely sure. Abby had spent most of her time in deep contemplation, her eyes mingling with the flames dancing in the fire.
"Would you care for a refreshment," a man suddenly said at her side.
It snapped her to attention.
"No-no, I'm fine," she answered.
"Oh, come now," a female voice echoed through the room. "Surely you must still be healing from your unfortunate bought with DMB in the woods. Please, drink."
"I'm not-"
"Drink."
A hand pushed a drink in front of her.
She took it, holding it but not partaking.
"Drink," the voice sounded again, this time with slight sinister intent lingering in the timbre.
Everything inside Abby told her not to protest. After all, she was surrounded and wounded. She'd find a way out, but that moment was currently not the time. She drank.
It was sweet, tangy, potent; it was human. She stopped.
"Now is not the time to be a prude, Abigail. You need you strength."
She finally glanced up to the person addressing her. The same eyes that stared at her in the woods gazed back. This time, she wasn't under such distress and could clearly see the differences between the woman in front of her and her own mother. Their eyes were the same shape, seemingly very exotic, and both had a similar, angular bone structure. Her hair was just as black with blue highlights shimmering in the light. This woman was not her mother but most definitely similar.
The woman sat down in the chaise across from her.
In an instant, the other chairs around her were also filled. It was before she could even blink, faster than any vampire she had ever met before.
All of the seats were taken by woman, all of varying features and all of them absolutely gorgeous.
To her hostess's right was another beautiful woman, same stature and bone structure. Her hair was a deep, rich brown, almost black but had remnants of red shimmering throughout the strands. Her eyes were not the obsidian of the others or Abby's; they were a deep steely grey.
On that woman's right side was another of ethereal beauty, sitting slightly taller in her seat. Other than that, her hair and eyes were the same as the prior. The only difference was her face had broader angles than the other pale vampires near her.
To her hostess's left was a vampire of a smaller stature. She almost looked unhealthy, which was extremely odd for an incorporeal being. She was lanky and lean, her facial contours sharp and crisp. Her eyes were reminiscent of the other gray shades, but hers were paler with a tinge of blue, taking on an appearance of a corpse.
The two farthest from the host's spot, but closer to Abby's own, were two women who stood out; they were blonde. Although being fair haired did seem to be the only thing the two girls did have in common. One had an almost golden hue, her eyes gray. The other's hair was ashen and her eyes a dark black.
There was one point that Abby came to a conclusion; these woman had more than one feature in common for it just to be a matter of sheer coincidence.
The hostess in the center took a sip of her own decanter filled with blood, before smiling.
"Welcome. I'm glad to see that you are unharmed," she purred.
"No thanks to you," Abby scoffed. "Where is my daughter?"
"Oh, resting," the woman said. "You will see her-in good time, my dear."
"Cut the bullshit. Why am I here?"
"Ooo, right to the chase, eh," the female vampire chuckled. "Fine, I'll get to that. How about we start this chat by skipping the pleasantries and going right to a good story? You like stories, right? Of course you do. We all do."
The group of woman got comfortable around her while Abby felt a cold chill. There was no way that she was going to let herself feel safe around the mysterious women.
"The story begins many, many years ago with two little girls-two beautiful sisters. These two sisters were lucky enough to be born into a fantastic legacy. There was a catch though, only the first girl, who had the luck to be born one minute before the other, had the legacy bestowed upon her. One mere singular minute is what determined their futures. At first, the girl loved her role, being groomed into her destiny. Her 'little' sister did her bidding as she should, catering to her sibling and being her best friend; her confidant. The twin girls were inseparable," she said, taking a momentary pause. The woman glanced down, a small amount of remorse and sadness, before continuing on with her tale. "Not long after the joyous birth of the two girls, their family grew and welcome more children-5 little, equally gorgeous daughters followed after the twins. The elder daughters were charged with helping with the care of the younger. Although they were helping their sisters grow into well-intentioned adults, the twins were also only just children themselves. Together, they played, worshipped together, learned The Craft side-by-side, taught to them by their mother. Their bond unbreakable. So it was until the eldest daughter turned 19. She was groomed and ready to take her place in her family legacy. The family line was royal you know, and the first born daughter of their line sacred; she being the only one in the world that was a vessel strong enough to take her rite. Instead, the girl squandered her gift after falling in love with a young man. You see, to maintain the lineage, the family stayed in marriage amongst cousins. It was the times back then. It was to keep the bloodline pure and the sacred rite within the family. She decided differently. The sister informed her twin that she was viewing her role in a new light and didn't like that she was being forced into something she felt, in actuality, knew very little about; she felt that she did not know the whole truth. The eldest was not going to sign up for a role she didn't quite understand. Her sister was disgusted that she would choose that boy over her own family. And then, one night without a word-she left."
"That's not exactly how it went," one of the blonde women chirped in, her voice as sultry as velvet.
"Oh, no," the storyteller interjected. "How old were you when she parted? Hmm?"
"Eight," the blonde admitted with a pause.
"That's right, you were eight when she abandoned us. You have no idea how it-"
"She left all of us, sister, not just you."
Sister?
Abby's skin crawled as the vampire at the center gazed at her deep in eyes. Yes, those eyes were very familiar and she did feel that same glimmer in that woman's eyes as her mothers.
"We were all sisters, Abigail. She was ours; my twin. May I introduce you to your family."
She gestured to her right, to the brunette with the steely gray eyes: Sarah. Her hand then gracefully moved to the adjacent brunette, the one with the broader but equally gorgeous face; Alice. Next it was to the brunette with the gaunt physique; Beatrix. Over to the blondes, the one with golden hair was named Marion. Last, but not least, the one who had questioned her apparent sister during the story was revealed to be Eleanor.
Sisters. Her mother's family, and there in front of her, her mother's twin. Flesh and blood. Her family.
It was a moment that she fantasized about as a young child. There was nothing she wanted more than to meet where her parent's came from, where her past began. Her life.
There it all was set in front of her. Six sisters out of seven remained, at least five of whom seemed to have some qualm against her mother taking off and marrying her father. Eleanor was the only one who had seemed discomforted by the hosts' tone of voice throughout the story.
"And I am, Elisabeth," the raven haired beauty explained, her British roots still apparent in her voice. "Your mother, our Anne, was my twin. My word, you resemble her so."
The vampire stood up at an ethereal pace and flowed across the room, her own white silk robe cascading across the floor.
She stood in front of Abby and lifted her niece's chin with her slender fingers.
"You have her eyes," she smiled, a mixture of longing and slight contempt in her gaze. "It was a pity what happened to her. She had such promise."
Abby pulled her face from Elisabeth's fingers, causing her aunt to grin.
"And I see you equal her tenacity. That's good. We can use that."
A question came into her mind and was vocalized before she could stop herself.
"When-when you found out what happened to my mother-why didn't you come for us," Abby asked, her eyes pleading with all of her aunt's for answers. All but Eleanor looked to Elisabeth for response. Eleanor just looked off to the side at nothing, her eyes foggy with sadness, perhaps even regret.
"We did try to come get you," Elisabeth smirked as she made her way back to her seat across the way. "In fact, that was our job. We were there to get you-we were the ones who gave your mother those letters."
Her stomach dropped.
"The cloaked woman," she caught herself saying aloud once more, finding no censor between her head and her mouth.
"There were many cloaked women, Abby," Elisabeth gestured around the room, pointing towards all the women present. "It was a part that was played, but, yes, I played the role of one at some point."
She had reached her boiling point and it was making her canines itch. Tremors of rage ran through her body.
"You...bitch," she stammered as she blurred towards Elisabeth.
None of the other vampires moved. Apparently, there was no need.
Suddenly, her body was unable to move. Her muscles twitched in horrific spasms, her body feeling as if she had been tazed. That was precisely what had happened to her. She fell to the floor, twitching and unable to scream.
"Thank you," Elisabeth said to the male vampires who had entered the room at the sound of a struggle. "Please escort my dear niece to her room. I will discuss the rest of our history with her once she has calmed down to a sane temperament."
Her body was lifted off of the floor and carried down the hall. Her head was leaned back to see her family, all were looking at her...except for Eleanor.
Dean watched as Gwen stopped ahead of them, dead in her tracks.
"They stopped going on foot here," she huffed. Dean thought about her words; they. Abby wasn't alone when she took off.
That left only one option in his mind. Dean had to believe that she was taken, he couldn't believe that she left on her own accord. So, to keep going, he braced himself for that fact. If she was taken, she didn't go on her own-and god only knew she probably didn't go quietly.
He, Sam & Cas finally made it to her side, all three out of breathe compared to the able-bodied vampire.
"Where'd she go," Cas asked.
"By truck," Dean pointed to the ground with his sawed off. "Probably a jeep. These woods are pretty dense. I doubt anything could through here but an ATV."
Sam asked if Gwen would be able to keep the scent. She nodded yes, besides, she'd be able to remember the location verbatim.
"Good," he said. "I'll run back for my SUV with Gwen. You two stay here and we'll pick you up."
"We're wasting time-," Dean started to complain before Sam cut him off.
"Look, if they drove fifty miles then we'd have to walk it. What would you rather do? We're wasting more time sitting here and debating it. Please," Sam said. "Just stay here and we'll be back in an hour. All right?"
Dean stayed quiet and nodded. Like it or not, his brother was right. At least...he was right while he was still in plain sight. As soon as Sam was out of sight, Dean motioned for Cas to start walking.
"But, Dean...your brother-"
"They'll catch up to us," Dean huffed as he hustled.
Cas tried to stop him, telling him it was foolish to walk off without a guide. They were, after all, in the woods without a map; they would need Gwen to make a safe journey.
Dean stopped, turning to stand toe-to-toe with Cas.
"I am not going to just freakin' stand there while my wife and daughter are out there somewhere. Stay here if you want, I'm going to keep movin'."
Dean jogged on, hearing Cas following close behind.
Abby pulled her knees up to her chest in the corner of the room. She sat upon the wooden floor, unable to take part in the comforts of the extravagant bed. It just seemed too sacrilegious after what she just learned.
Her head was spinning from the mixture of dead man's blood, being tazed and of shock. Her mother's family, her family, were who murdered her parent's in cold blood. Not only that, they had tried to get rid of her and her brother as well. The people who she thought had the answers, everything that her mother was keeping from her certainly did; it was a horror that she did not expect.
She regretted ever feeling that her mother had no right to keep such things from her. There was now an obvious reason.
A knock at the door shook her attention.
The doors open to reveal Elisabeth in her regal splendor. She strode in, the guards placed outside Abby's room, sealing the door behind her.
"Isn't this place just splendid," Elisabeth gushed as she took in the room.
She walked over to the fireplace, her gown grazing the floor in her wake. She stoked it, making the embers sizzle and crisp.
"This place was a huge find for us. Many don't know of it, and those who do, think it haunted and dare not venture inwards. This was a hotel in the 1920s and was used as a mob hideout. You remember those days, don't you?"
Abby didn't answer.
"The booze overflowed, murder was almost casual; it was truly a good age for the vampire. Wouldn't you agree?"
Her aunt glanced over her shoulder at Abby, waiting for a response.
"Cat got your tongue," Elisabeth smirked. She shrugged, putting down the fire poker and blurring over to take a seat on the soft bed. "I suppose this sort of shock would invoke such a reaction."
'You murdered my family.'
Elisabeth looked up, her eyes slightly in pain.
"It wasn't as if I wanted to kill your mother. She was my sister, after all," she admitted. "It was a matter of duty. I was protecting my family. Tell me, Abigail, how would you have felt if you had to kill your brother?"
"I wouldn't have done it," Abby snarled in retort.
"Really? Not even if you knew he was killing innocent people?"
"No," Abby admitted. "I'd be a hypocrite, would I not, if I were to kill him."
Her aunt raised her eyebrow, lying stomach first on the bed, bending her legs up into the air. She was resting so casually, so at ease, all because there was no way Abby could make a move on her quick enough to kill her on her own. After all, she could read her thoughts still; Abby was not strong enough to block her out. Second, there was the matter of the two guards just outside the door.
"Did it ever occur to you that James knew any of this, regarding us," she smiled, her eyes full of question. "You never once thought why he moved you so frequently and to such random places?"
Abby admitted that she had thought about it, but thought it was because of their lives as vampires. There was no way to compel entire masses into just forgetting that they weren't aging. However, there were times where they were only in towns for a brief moment, seemingly fleeting times. It was as if they hopped off of wagons and trains only to immediately hit the next one. James would just explain that it didn't feel right or there were other, much better places to settle for a longer amount of time.
"How much did you really know about you brother," Elisabeth asked. "Honestly. How well did you know him?"
"I'm not going to discuss that with someone who murdered her own twin," Abby said with venom in her voice.
"Fair enough," Elisabeth sat up on the bed, tall and strong.
She got up and moved towards the door.
"I guess this is enough chit chat for one evening," she moved towards the door.
"NO," Abby suddenly stood up. "Why am I here? Where is my daughter?"
"April is fine-"
"Show me she is fine," Abby demanded.
"I can't," her aunt smirked.
"Why is that? Is she not here? Is she even alive," Abby growled.
"No, no It's nothing like that at all. I can assure you, she's safe and asleep. We doused her with DMB as well, to make sure she was safe on the journey. We did not want her to struggle. She was our security deposit. We needed to make sure she was in tip-top shape. After all, there was always the chance that you wouldn't show if we didn't make that arraignment to take your daughter instead."
"Well, that still brings it to me doesn't it? What do you want with me?"
Elisabeth took a step forward, smiling down at her niece.
"My dear, Abigail. You won't squander what your mother left for you. Without your brother, you will know all that the world has to offer you. You are not just some pathetic vampire; you are entitled."
"Enough of the cryptic bullshit," Abby seethed. "What does that mean?"
"It means we need you. Get some rest."
Abby pinned her against the wall, causing Elisabeth to chuckle.
"Don't, come in," Elisabeth commanded to the guards outside the door. "You're not needed."
Her aunt eyed her down.
"I am many, many years older than you, Abigail. I'd be careful if I were you."
"Well, you're not me," Abby hissed, her fangs extended.
"No, I'm not, and that is unfortunate for me now, isn't it," Elisabeth said, pushing Abby back across the room, her niece landing thunderously against the far wall. "For some reason, only the most unworthy get the rite, correct? Your mother, you-and there are those who would die for it. One mere minute, one moment-in-time stopped me from being the one in charge. One. But now, I don't need to be it; you'll be in charge but you'll be my puppet. This time it will work.'
Elisabeth turned around leaving her niece slumped against the wall on the far side of the room.
She stopped just short of the door.
"Don't think that you are going to any answers or can demand them from me, little girl. I will tell you when I feel like it," she smirked. "You are not the one in charge."
She turned around in one sweeping motion, her hand placed on the door knob.
"Tell me, dear, you say that you trusted your brother...but did it ever occur to you how he was so much strong-and how he practically managed to take out Caleb? Think about it. I for one found it-quite peculiar."
Elisabeth exited the room, silently closing the door behind her, leaving Abby to muddle through her thoughts.
She thought back to that night that her brother died.
James had fought, and although he was injured, he did manage to give Caleb fight-until it was just too much.
Caleb had made some comment that she did disregard at the time, but only then did it start to make sense.
She had gotten out of Caleb's grasp, retreating from his arms ripping her own out of her sockets, in an attempt to literally tear her limb-from-limb.
Although James had previously been injured in the fight almost to incapacitation, he still managed to pull Caleb off her.
"James, you're quite strong. Have you been cheating," Caleb had murmured to her brother.
James' response was for the villain to go to hell.
Did Caleb know something Abby didn't? Had James been 'cheating?' She didn't recognized his strength then as anything unusual; she just assumed that his care for her made it possible for him to find the strength. But, at that time, as drugged up on dead man's blood as he was, with half the injuries he had endured, she wasn't sure anymore.
In order to do what he had done, there was only one explanation: he had been drinking human blood.
From the way he fought back after all those injuries, there was no way it had just been for an afternoon. To gain the control and composure he had around humans, as well as the strength he had acquired, it had to have been from years. Many, many years. And, during those years, as she stood by her own convictions against drinking such blood, her brother supposedly steadfast in his own conviction beside her, he had been lying.
Her brother lied to her about knowing their mother's history and drinking human blood-what else could he have been hiding?
As her world was spinning, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Eleanor stood in front of her, her finger to her own lips, begging her to be quiet.
She helped Abby up and moved towards the now open wall.
A secret wall panel? Why didn't she just come in through the door?
Eleanor took her hand and lead her into the secret passage. Abby didn't know what to expect, but at that point, nothing would surprise her.
"Sam," Gwen stopped on the way back to the cabin. "Do you smell that?"
Sam sniffed the air like a German Shepard would sniff food. Nope. He had nothing.
"What is it," he asked.
"Blood," she replied with hesitation. "Blood but-different. Something is wounded."
It was the something part that made Sam take the safety off his gun.
Suddenly, Gwen took off to the right.
"GWEN," he yelled after her, his heart racing as he tried to keep up with her. Why in the blue hell would she just take off like that? Didn't she understand they needed her right then, Abby needed her?
"Gwen, slow the fuck down," Sam huffed, galloping over debris in his path.
It took him several minutes before he came to close to wear he thought she stopped.
A house?
In front of him was a dilapidated shack, the aged shutters hanging lopsided against the cracked windowpanes.
A groan sounded from within. Sam race towards the door, placing his body flat against the siding, leaning into the opening gun first.
"Why, Donovon," Gwen said. "Why would you betray the nest like this?"
Sam saw Gwen pinning down a much larger male vampire, three vials of dead man's blood protruding from his neck. She smashed his face to the floor.
"WHY?"
The male vampire just laughed, his spittle pooling on the wood below.
"Sam! Get in here," Gwen yelled.
Sam entered, pointing his gun at Donovon, moving his other hand to reach his knife just in case the vamp tried to make a move.
"Gwen, what the fuck is going on-"
"He's a member of the nest. That smell of blood-I was right, it was coming from something. Those somethings are vampires. They're down in the cellar and are hurt pretty bad."
Sam asked where the cellar was and how he could help.
"We need to get them out and fast. They need to get to safety. We'll call a vamp doc to get them medical attention."
"But, Gwen, what about Abby," Sam asked, curious as to why her priorities so drastically changed.
"Sam, this still may have something to do with that. This fucker," Gwen slammed the vampire's head against the splintered floor once more. "This fucker works for the nest. You may wonder why the fuck he's in northern-middle-of-no-where-Wisconsin? And if that doesn't surprise you, or let you think there's a connection-go to the cellar."
"Are you going to be okay with him alone with you," Sam asked, hoping she'd take his insistence for backup.
"I'm fine," she reassured. "Just go to them. Once I get my answers, I'll be done with him. Don't worry about it. The easiest way to get in is around the outside of the building by the back, there's a cellar door in the ground. Go!"
Sam followed her directions, making his way through the house and around the outer perimeter until he reached the opened door, the padlocked ripped clean off.
He hesitantly made his way down the stairs, the smell of blood finally reaching his nostrils, the scent mixed with dirt and sweat.
"Gw-Gwen," a voice chimed. It was female.
"Gwen, are you back," another voiced groaned in pain. That one was male. Not only that, but it was a voice he recognized.
"Dylan," he asked, his eyes scanning the darkness.
"Sam," his nephew's voice filled with surprise.
"Your uncle," the girl whispered. "We're over here."
She continued to talk, her voice leading him to them.
"Sam. Go to Sonora she needs help first," his nephew sighed.
"The hell I do, Dyl. Sam," she addressed him. "Sam, Dylan is in a lot of pain and is worse off than me. Get him out first."
Sam made his way over to his nephew, lifting him up in his arms, only finding his own now covered in sticky substance. He only had to guess that his young nephew had been the source of the aroma Gwen had picked up on.
"Sam, how are they," Gwen said, reappearing at the top of the cellar stairs, her own once neat clothes covered in blood.
"Get down here, Sonora. They need our help-and fast."