July 17, 2007 (cont)

Trying to pack turned out to be pretty pointless. The sensible dresses and casual slacks combos of a middle aged housewife didn't offer much that would prove very functional for what lay ahead. Mary abandoned the effort, concluding it made more sense to outfit as she went along, and moved on to placing her call.

She listened to the rhythmic ring of the phone as she pondered that it was all sort of a sad metaphor, nothing left of a hunter's trappings in her life, and not much hunter left in her.

"Mary?" the voice that cut off the ring was that of a man too young to be Robert, "It's Jacob."

"Jacob," she tried to make it sound as if the surprise had been a pleasant one. "I haven't seen you since..."

"We don't have to go down memory lane." the voice interrupted. "No need to pretend this is anything but what it is."

Honesty felt better. Mary really hadn't felt up to playing the role. Returning to the hunt wasn't something she relished. It was just what had to be done. There had been a time that she and her cousin had been close, playing together like any children might do, but also, training together as the fledgling hunters they were. That time was clearly past in Jacob's eyes. "In that case, I was calling for your father. Why are you answering his phone?"

"He's on another line taking a sitrep. Something's brewing in Pasadena."

"Tell me." she said, old instincts kicked in slipping her neatly into hunter mode.

"You're still bound and determined to go through with this, aren't you?" Jacob questioned in lew of answering. "I have to ask, do you know just how crazy you are? You've got to be beyond rusty. By now, there's so much dust on you you're going to end up with getting someone killed."

"I've already discussed all this with your father, Jacob. I know I can't go right back into the field, and I don't plan to, but I have to do something, whatever I can do." She realized that she sounded as if she were explaining to a child and changed up her tone to one that implied there was nothing to discuss. "I have to see this through to the end."

The silence from the other end of the line held more disdain than any words could have.

She pressed on, "What would you do if it had been your son?"

"That wouldn't have happened," he snapped back, "because my son was raised right."

Mary cut off her response before the angry sputters developed into actual words. There was bad blood between herself and the rest of the family after her betrayal of them and their mission. She wasn't going to be welcomed back with open arms. It was only due to the sway Robert held as a respected family patriarch that she had been welcomed back at all. Grudging acceptance, enough for working relationships was the best she was likely to get. It wouldn't do to stir the pot, so she pushed her anger down, allowed him the barb.

"Tell me about Pasadena." she said, her emotions poorly restrained behind a forced calm.

A meaningful pause preceded Jacob's answer as he considered whether or not to pursue the fued. "Demon signs, a lot of them," he eventually supplied, the hunter winning out over the wounded relative. "Near as we can figure, the reservoir's leaking. Dad's got a team out there looking into it."

That gave her cause for thought. The hellgate at Devil's Gate Reservoir had stood cracked slightly open since the 50s, when a pair of wannabe occultists, who knew just enough to be dangerous, had tampered with it. Odd occurences weren't unheard of in the area, but nothing of any great magnitude. "Do you think there could be a connection?" she asked, the argument forgotten in the face of what could be a promising lead.

"Hard to say." he answered. "We haven't been able to get near Cold Oak to find anything out. It's swarmed."

"Demons?"

"Forensics teams."

That didn't make any sense. "Still?" her voice was tinged with surprise. "It's been over a week. What could they be looking for after that long?"

"The rest of the bodies," he told her. "There's body drops all over the woods outside of town, most buried, some not. They've got teams out there with ground penetrating sonar trying to find them all. "

"H-how many?" She had forgotten just how ugly this job could get, the clinical detachment that a hunter had to have in order to stay sane.

"So far, in the dozens, and no telling how many more. Whatever this is, Mary, it's a lot bigger than just your boy." His attempt to discourage her backfired spectacularly.

"I can leave first thing in the morning and be there before dark." she said.

"Are you listening to me, Mary?" he argued, growing frustrated. "There's no point in you coming. Dad and I haven't even been able to get close, just a little recon around the perimeter. This is all over the civilian radar, and they've got everything locked down. The FBI's got people out there from missing persons going through everything with a fine toothed comb. This isn't flashing a fake badge at some local rube. It's the big leagues. We'll just have to wait until they finish and clear out. By then, there won't be anything left to find. There's nothing we can do, and there's definitely nothing you can do. Just stay with your family and out of the way...please."

"They'll let me in."

"Mary," he began but that was as far as he got.

"I'm the grieving mother of one of the victims, Jacob." she cut him off sharply. "They'll let me in."

He was mildly impressed in spite of himself. "You never did outgrow that stubborn streak of yours, did you? Maybe there's a little hunter left in you after all."

"A little," she agreed, "enough I hope. Tell your dad I'll see you both tomorrow." She ended the call before he could protest any further.

The suitcase still lay open and empty on the bed where she had left it. Her rejected middle aged housewife wardrobe had just become the perfect camouflage for the job at hand. Her mind awash with new information she went back to packing.

July 18, 2007

John moved quickly to place himself between his wife and the door. "Mary, just stop." he took her by the shoulders , blocking her way. "Talk to me for a minute, what do you mean you're leaving?"

"I'm not leaving, John. I have to go away, just for a little while." This really shouldn't have been left until the last minute, but she hadn't been able to decide what to tell John. The truth was out of the question, and he was not a man that settled for half answers. Reluctant to have the conversation at all she'd ended up procrastinating until the moment she on her way out the door suitcase in hand.

"It's a family thing." she continued lamely. "It's my Uncle Robert, he needs my help. You remember Robert, don't you?"

"I remember that you haven't heard a word from him since your parent's funeral." John was incensed. "Years, Mary, decades, and not one visit, a phone, a damn Christmas card, nothing, and now suddenly he needs some favor and you're ready to jump."

"John, please try to understand." she pleaded, but she knew she was asking the impossible. How could he understand? Even if she could have told him the truth, there had never been any real hope of this going well.

"Understand?" John challenged mockingly. "He cuts you off completely, and now I'm supposed to understand? After I watched him miss our wedding, holidays, even when the boys..." he choked on the emotion. "when the boys were born." he forced himself to finish, his voice ragged with a mix of pain and anger. "Does he know we just buried our son?" he demanded.

"He knows." her response was barely audible. Oh how much simpler this would be if she could explain that Robert was the one helping her, that he was doing the only thing he ever could for Sam, the only thing she had ever allowed him.

"I won't allow it." John declared straightening to his full height, planting himself before the door shoulders squared and eyes determined.

Mary met his gaze her face fierce with maternal instinct, "And just how do you plan to stop me?" As much as she loved John, nothing was going to keep her from avenging her son.

They stared each other down as the time seemed to pass much more slowly than it actually did. John blinked first. "How long?" he asked, defeated.

"Not long," Mary tried to reassure him, "I just have to finish something I should have taken care of a long time ago. I'll explain everything when I get back, I promise." Surely she'd be able to construct some convincing story by that time.

"All right." he conceded, stepping aside as he accepted her one armed hug. "You call as soon as you get there."

"Of course." she answered and reached for the door. "John," she said over her shoulder on the way out, "I love you."

"I love you, too." his back was turned. He wasn't willing to watch as she walked away.