Dean sat in his car, two double cheeseburgers and fries later, he was running out of soda. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to get this over with and settle the ol' bats peace of mind. He was growing a bit more frustrated and when nearly an hour and a half went by, which was more than enough time for the bus to arrive, Dean finished off the last of his drink and started the car. Just as he went to drive away, a bad feeling put a pit in his stomach and he opted to take the route back to Haddonfield that the bus would have taken from there.
By now it was about two in the morning, Dean was tired, but he didn't ignore his instinct; it's never lead him wrong yet. He would have texted Gin, but there wasn't any service out here, this was a county road with maybe one streetlight every mile and a half, until there wasn't any for miles. Not to mention, there wasn't a single car on the road, he never passed headlights, nor did he ever see a pair of tail lights in the distance. Which, in it of itself was odd, this bus should have had some kind of escort. He checked his phone again, no bars. He tossed it on the seat beside him and continued driving, keeping his eyes peeled on either side of the road for any signs of life. But nothing was going to prepare him for what he was about to find.
He was almost back to Haddonfield when he saw headlights lighting up the woods on the opposite side of the road. And as he got closer he could see, through the fog, that the bus had crashed. He turned to look back at the road just in time before he nailed an escaped patient, chasing a moth blindly across the road, the man not even phased by the screech of tires and nearly being hit by a car barreling towards him at fifty miles an hour. Once Dean mentally made sure he didn't shit his pants, his attention went back to the bus. No one was left, at least it looked like, he rolled closer, slowly so he wouldn't nearly run over anyone else wandering aimlessly out here. His headlights flooded over the blacktop as he neared the grass and he could see bodies strewn in the grass, the steam of the exhaust of the bus, it was still running. Idling there in the ditch, Dean had to think— that crash didn't look bad enough for anyone to be ejected, there weren't any broken windows, the front end just looked dented in from where the trees had stopped the bus from going into the woods.
Dean went in his glovebox, pulling out his pistol, just in case. Not all of these people were innocent, nor to be taken lightly. They were all locked up for a reason. Especially this Michael guy, and if he was out here crawling around, Dean wanted some defense with him. So far, the only noise that filled the still, night air was the bus idling and Dean's breaths fogging into the light of his flashlight. As he walked closer, he could see more bodies, face down in the mud. He pointed the flashlight at the bus as he walked up to the emergency door at the back, and it landed on another body. This one was sitting upright and he was practically decapitated but his head was still attached. Almost like his spine was going to come out of his throat. Nothing shook Dean too much, but that made him jump back and swallow back a bit of vomit, just from how gruesome that was to see. He'd rather see the severed head at his feet. "Fuck…" He huffed, and rose his weapon slowly opening the back door. Clearing the bus before taking any steps further. The bus was empty or so he thought. His light swept the floor and he landed on another body, who was quick to react to the light. A survivor, injured but alive.
"Hey pal?" He called out, gun still aimed. "Y'alright?"
"Been—Shot…" The man croaked out weakly. And just then, Dean heard the wail of sirens approaching and soon the flashing lights followed.
"Alright, well looks like help just got here. Just take it easy." He cautiously approached him and kept his weapon drawn, just in case this was some kind of trap. Couldn't be too careful these days. "What happened?"
"HANDS!"
Dean tensed and he rose his hands, not holstering his weapon, "I'm on your side officer—"
"Drop the weapon!" The officer behind him shouted again, and slowly Dean flashed his badge from his pocket. "Oh—Sorry." The officer's tone changed 180* and the two of them lowered their weapons.
"This man needs an ambulance." Dean told him, slowly turning to face the officer behind him.
"They're on the way, did you see what happened here?"
"No I did not. I just got here a couple minutes ago, heading back to town." Dean replied and just as he moved to step away, the man on the floor grabbed his boot.
"Did he.. escape?"
Dean looked down at him, then at the officer and back; confused.
"Did who escape?" The officer then asked, puzzled as well.
"Michael Myers."
Dean's heart sank right through to the floor. From the looks of it, there were no survivors, and anyone who did survive was not here. Immediately the officer that had arrived radioed in for backup and put out a BOLO for any and all of the missing patients, while Dean stepped off the bus to canvas the scene further. Taking his flashlight back out, he swept over the grass, finding another officer face down, looking like he was trying to crawl away from the bus when someone struck the back of his head— the blood gleamed in the light of the flashlight, and Dean had no interest in getting a closer look. This was an attack. Mike Myers certainly escaped this. When he came back up to the road again, something smaller laid in the street, the muzzle of a small .22 caught his attention and he picked up the pace.
"Jesus Christ.." He was disgusted by what he saw. A kid, probably no older than thirteen, neck bent just like the first guy he saw, and he was laying on top of a small rifle. "You mother fu—" He turned away. Dean saw evil every day, lived some of the worst things imaginable, but when kids were involved.. it always hit him deeper, and harder than anything else. The kid barely had a fighting chance. Then it dawned on him, the kid didn't walk all the way out here, and he certainly didn't drive. A car was missing, and another body. Dean hurried back to the bus and grabbed the initial officer on scene now that the ambulance arrived with more backup. "We have a problem. Whoever did all of this that we're looking at right here, got ahold of a car. Someone's gotta get back to town—"
"Alright, slow down" the officer told Dean, "Did you see any other survivors?"
"I really don't think the ones holding hands and chasing moths are capable of this, Sheriff, I'll head to town, you stay here with him." Dean told him. "Did you see any other car drive down this road?"
The officer shook his head. "No, the only car I've seen is yours. Son we gotta get back to—"
"I'll worry about getting back to town, you stay here with him." Dean then told him again, turning to head back to his car.
Dean's tires squealed as they hit the damp blacktop and he was off towards Haddonfield, checking his phone constantly until he got a couple of bars of service.
"Kelly I'm kinda nervous I haven't heard from Dean. He should have been back by now." Gin began to pace anxiously in Kelly's living room.
"Maybe he's just waiting for him to be booked, to make sure he makes it all the way in and stays there." Kelly suggested. "Gin I think you're worrying too much. It's an hour ride out, and its dark as shit out that way. Probably fell asleep."
"No Dean doesn't fall asleep that easily, not on a job."
"Well, he didn't seem too thrilled about being here, so I don't think he considers this of any importance."
Kelly was probably right. But Dean would at least answer the phone. Any time either of their phone rang these days both of their hearts would skip a beat thinking Sam was in trouble. "I should drive out there. Make sure he's okay—"
Kelly jumped up and took Gin by the shoulders, grounding her friend and making her sit in the arm chair behind her. "Ginny, take a breath. He's a big boy that looks like he can handle himself. I think you should rest, I'll stay up and make sure he gets back here okay. Alright?"
Sleep? How could Gin sleep right now? By now it was almost midnight, and there was no word from Dean. No word on if the transfer was successful. There was a deep pit forming in her stomach and it wasn't something she could just ignore even for the sake of sleep. But maybe getting her mind off of it could help a little bit with her anxiety. "I don't think I'll sleep. But.. Maybe just go lay down for a bit. I'll keep my phone on me, in case I hear from him."
"There's a spare bedroom down the hall on the left. It's all yours." Kelly's voice sounded a bit muffled to her as she headed down the hallway.
"Thanks Kell." Gin called back and slipped through the open door and managed to crawl into bed. But she didn't stay off of her phone. Constantly checking waiting for Dean to answer her, or at least to call.
Gin wasn't sure how much time had passed, or what time she dozed off, but she was awoken by heavy footsteps and commotion downstairs. Bleary-eyed and confused for a moment, relying on her adrenaline to keep her standing now that she was out of bed, it took her a second to get her bearings. She heard Dean's voice and knew right away that something was wrong.
"Where is she— Gin—!" Their bodies collided and he caught her to stop her from being knocked back onto her ass. "We have a problem."
"Problem?" Her voice was deep from her little cat nap, but the concern was clear.
"The bus didn't make it."
"What do you mean didn't make it?" Kelly asked nervously and Gin's heart sank and she was snapped back to earth, now fully awake.
"Dean what happened?" Gin asked as he broke away from her to grab her jacket, tossing it at her.
"It looked like someone hijacked the bus. I was waiting for it to get there and started driving to see if they had a break down or something—I figured I'd run into them since it was the last home stretch of the road to get there. The bus was in the ditch, still running, and patients were chasing grasshoppers in the street. I damn near hit one of them, that's when I saw the bus."
The more Dean told, the more anxious Gin became just thinking about what the answer to her next question was. Dean could see it on her face.
"He's missing. Someone had a gun— The only survivor left on the bus was shot. The sheriff arrived, we're meeting him down at the hospital to interrogate the guy. He was Michael's doctor as far as I know. C'mon get your shoes on lets go!" He urged and was already out the door.
Gin hurried and tied her boots up, grabbing her phone off the back of the couch. "Kelly stay here, lock the doors. We'll be right back." All of this was happening so fast. Gin barely had time to shut the door to the impala before Dean was pulling away.
