Chapter 9: United We Stand

Claire yelled out her frustration, fist hitting the floor beside her; it was sticky. Angry tears prickled her eyes. She squeezed them shut and took a few steadying breaths. It didn't make much of a difference.

She opened her eyes and found that straining them didn't help; the pantry was absolutely pitch black. There was no light coming through at all, not even a speck to see by. The heavy door must have been airtight - who'd deadbolt a pantry otherwise? - so there was probably a limited amount of breathable air. She had that matchbox in her pocket but… if she was running out of air, she probably shouldn't light any matches, right? On top of it all, the place smelled absolutely rancid, like meat that was left out in the sun.

Claire wiped her hands on her jeans as she stood. A wave of nausea hit her; she swayed, reaching out blindly. She found what felt like a shelf system to lean on, knocking over a few cans as she did. One of the cans hit her foot and she hissed in pain. She waited until most of the dizziness went away, clinging to the metal.

The first thing she tried was the door. Like she thought, the framing was airtight. There was nothing to pry apart; the hinges were on the other side where the deadbolt, or seal, was. Claire punched the door in frustration, leaving her with nothing but a sore fist.

The pantry itself was pretty big, as much as she could tell. There seemed to be plenty of food left; the crew probably left in the early days, without taking much with them, and it looked like no one thought to scavenge the ship since. She wondered if they were out at sea. If so, she hoped Castiel was up to flying them - they were going to escape, damn it - because she had no idea how they were going to sail this monstrosity otherwise.

She walking around slowly, keeping one hand stretched in front of her, the other using the shelf system for balance. Her foot hit something that let out a moan.

"Brian?" she whispered. "Are you alive?" Horrified, she wondered if Zanna could turn.

"Claire?" His voice was weak.

She crouched next to him, keeping a hand on a shelf for balance. "Yeah, I'm here."

"How did you…?" His words were cut off by a violent coughing fit. He struggled for breath, spittle flying.

Claire grimaced. In spite of her fear (really, what harm would one little match be?) she took out the matchbox. The little light wasn't a big help; she needed to hold it very close to Brian's face to see how injured he was. It was pretty bad; his face was drawn and bruised, blood dripping from his mouth and down his chin. He managed to stop coughing and even tried to smile at her reassuringly.

The match burned out. She lit another, this time moving it down his body. He was slumped against one of the shelves, legs sprawled in front of him. There was a long, silver knife protruding from his chest, close to his heart… if he even had one. Who the hell knew, she thought. He seemed close enough to human to bleed, at the very least. The second match died; she didn't put it away fast enough and it singed her fingers. She hissed, shaking her hand.

"You… got out," Brian managed to choke out. "Claire I'm… I'm so… I'm so sorry. I thought he was… like me, I was only trying to-" he groaned in pain, "trying to help you."

Tentatively, she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. His hand closed around her forearm, clinging to it. "Brian, it's okay," she said, even if it really wasn't. "If he's not like you then what is he? How can we beat him?"

"Tlaloc," Brian spat. "He said his real name is-" pausing again to catch his breath, he continued, "his kind… eats. Needs sacrifices. I didn't know. I didn't know," he insisted. He then pulled her hand from his shoulder to his chest, where the long knife was sticking out. Claire recoiled but Brian held on. "Take it," he said.

"No," she said, horrified. He didn't let her pull her hand away. "It's stemming the wound. You'll bleed out."

He shuddered. "I'm already...dead. Claire, listen. You need to be very b-brave now." His teeth started chattering. He was fighting for every word. "When he c-comes b-back, use it." He let go of her arm to close both hands on the knife handle, crying out in pain when he started to pull. She put her hands on top of his and didn't know whether to help him or to stop him.

Eventually, Brian had to pause to gather his strength, gasping in pain all the while. "Kill him," he finally said. "Then go d-down… down the ship… find a man b-bound. This-" he pulled a little more on the knife and Claire cried out on his behalf, "His. He'll...help you."

"Castiel?" she asked in a trembling voice. She didn't know when she started crying.

"You know…?"

Claire let out a small, wet laugh. "We've met."

She felt Brian tense up and suddenly he really was pulling with all his strength, yelling out in pain and determination. The knife didn't budge. Shuddering, Claire began to pull as well. The knife had caught on a rib. It took several moments for it to pop out with a sickening sound, gushing blood down her hands. She fell back from her crouch and scrambled away, bloody hands clutched tightly around the knife. It was absurdly sharp; she had cut herself a little by accident.

"Brian?" she half-whispered. "Brian?" She still couldn't see a damn thing. She felt torn between wanting to help and wanting to flee. Of course, there was nowhere to go.

"S-sorry," he finally gasped out. "So sorry." Brian took another long, rattling breath and then fell silent. She called his name a few times, but there was no reply. Trembling, Claire crawled closer. She reached out to check for a pulse. Her hand landed on his slack face at first and then slid down to his neck. He was dead.

Claire let out a sob. It was ridiculous, she came out here to kill him. Tricked or not, Brian was still part of the reason so many of them had died, and yet... with the exception of Cas, he'd been the only fixture in her life for the past year. He'd always been so kind to her and she knew, at last, that his kindness wasn't faked. Steeling herself, she felt Brian's face again and then positioned the long knife. It slid easily through his eye, destroying whatever chance he had of coming back as a ghoul.

She heard the door seal being released. Climbing to her feet unsteadily, she clutched the blade close to her chest, turning her back to the door. The sudden light would blind her, she knew, and it didn't make sense to attack Crocs - Tlaloc, was it? - like she had before. He would see it coming this time. No, better make Tlaloc come to her.

For the first time in a long time, she prayed to Castiel, like she had when she'd been strapped to that table all those months ago. Like she prayed when she was just a little girl, begging him to let her father come home. Please, please let your knife be enough to kill him.

The heavy door was pulled open.

"Claire?" Enid, it was Enid. Claire turned around, half blind, and threw herself at her friend. Enid reeled from the impact but hugged back just as fiercely.

"How did you know I was in here?" Claire cried out.

Enid pulled back, looking at her critically. "Oh God, you look awful," she said. "I woke up in one of the bedrooms upstairs. I found Oliver too but I couldn't wake him up. I came down here to look for you. Then I saw a guy coming out of this room and he was kind of talking to himself, so I hid. Claire, there was an axe stuck in his chest." Enid stared at her, wide-eyed.

Claire let out a laugh. "Yeah, that was me," she said. "It didn't work out but this," she showed Enid the long silver blade, "this should do the job. I mean, that's what…" she stepped back so Enid could look inside the pantry and see Brian's body.

Enid's eyes widened. "Is that...?"

"Yeah, but listen, that other guy, Tlaloc, he's some kind of creature. Enid, he's been eating us. I think Heaven was just a place to, um, store us between feedings. Like a-" she looked around, "well, like a pantry, I guess? He said he couldn't eat me yet cause he's full."

"...Susan?" Enid asked softly.

Claire could only nod, not trusting her own voice. She inhaled sharply. "He's strong. Really strong, Enid, but we can catch him by surprise..."

A short time later found Claire locked inside the pantry again. This time she was facing the door, Castiel's knife tucked in her waistband behind her back. She wasn't standing around in the dark anymore. She and Enid found a few candles in the kitchen and had scattered them around the pantry.

Claire wasn't worried about running out of air anymore. Enid had looked at her in amusement when Claire raised that particular concern. She explained that no, a few lit candles really couldn't eat away Claire's oxygen supply. It would literally take days for a room this size, even if it was airtight, and the candles themselves would actually die out of oxygen starvation long before Claire herself needed to worry. Apparently, Enid's parents had been scientists of some kind; her family's dinnertime conversations were just that side of weird. Who knew?

A forever later, the telltale sound of the door unsealing came. Claire practiced her meek, resigned face.

"Did you enjoy your time out?" Tlaloc asked. He had pulled the axe out of his chest at some point, leaving behind an ugly hole. His voice sounded smug like before but Claire thought she heard a touch of anger in his voice. "So! I did the rounds, as usual, and it took forever, also as usual. Still got no idea why the stupid Zanna insisted on giving you kids space, it's not like you needed it. How is Brian, by the way? Oooh, sorry. Too soon?" His eyebrows wiggled at her like he just told a great joke.

He gave a little huff of annoyance when she didn't respond. "Anyway, as it turns out, not all of my things are where I left them." He took a step toward her, looming despite being the same height as she was. It might have been a trick of the light, but his face seemed a little blue. Literally blue. "Care to tell me where the other one went?" he murmured.

"Right behind you," said Enid, coming out of her hiding place. Tlaloc turned dramatically, just in time for the flying projectile to hit him in the face and explode.

Like Claire, Enid had been taken in her normal clothes instead of in pajamas, even if unlike Claire she'd been taken in her sleep. For some reason, Enid had a few green balloons in the zip pockets of her hoodie. She explained away her lack of sleep clothes by wanting to always be prepared - what if they were attacked at night? - but she didn't really explain why she was carrying balloons around of all things.

"You little…!" Tlaloc started to say but Enid managed to hit him in the face with another water balloon.

Claire took advantage of his confused state by thrusting Castiel's knife into his back. Tlaloc's whole body went rigid and she spent another second literally twisting the knife. He screeched, arms flailing. She dodged out of the way, ducking under his arm, running out of the pantry and into the kitchen to stand next to Enid, putting the kitchen island between them and Tlaloc.

"Eek!" Tlaloc squealed, he took a few unsteady steps into the kitchen. He tried to use his short, chubby arms to pull the knife out of his back, but he couldn't quite reach. "I… what, you idiot girl, what did you do?" He threw a confused look back at the pantry, where Brian's body was. Claire could tell the moment he figured it out. He moaned, "no… that was the angel's blade?!"

What followed was the weirdest chasing game Claire ever played. Tlaloc was far too slow now. He tried to go around the kitchen island toward them, but when he went right, they went right too, and when he went left, they did the same.

"Stop moving!" he demanded shrilly. His face seemed to be blubbering a little under the surface. He fell forward, elbows catching the kitchen island. "No, no," he muttered around the water that was leaking out of his mouth. His eyes started to bulge like a giant hand was squeezing him around the middle. Tlaloc's skin was becoming gummy and pale blue. He looked like he was going to burst.

"Um… I think we should duck," Claire said, pulling the wide-eyed Enid down to the ground. Just in time: they heard a ripping, squelching sound, a little bit like a balloon bursting but bigger. Water exploded over the entire kitchen. The counter protected them somewhat but their pant legs became drenched from the water splashing on the floor. Bits of… flesh, she supposed, hit the walls like the pieces of a burst balloon rubber. They heard the knife hitting the floor with a clanking sound.

Enid and Claire stood up slowly. They stared at what was left of Tlaloc's body: a tiny mess of bluish goo.

"Gross," they said in unison.

A/N:

This marks the end of the first half of the story :) Well, I say half, I originally intended to wrap up this particular portion in six chapters. I thought it was important for the kids to essentially rescue themselves, with Claire as the first abduction victim landing the final blow.

Tlaloc, by the way, was a real Aztec deity. He was associated greatly with water elements and by extension, supplementing life, being known as a "provider" of sorts. He was also greatly feared. Human sacrifice, particularly of infants and young children, was an important part of the worship rituals. I based Tlaloc's childish, changeable personality on a couple of things. First of all, the age-old saying "you are what you eat". Secondly, his historical representation and association with water and with the weather: they can be calm and pleasant, but also volatile and unexpectedly dangerous.

...Basically, I googled a deity who hasn't shown up yet in SPN continuity, someone who is associated with human sacrifices, and who I could do a reasonable bait-and-switch for a Zanna.

Speaking of the Zanna - poor Brian really did just want to help. In the SPN episode introducing them, it was described that each Zanna had a "thing": his was being a Dad with a capital D. I picture him looking and acting a little like Phil Dunphy from Modern Family ;) In my mind he is drawn to kids who have difficult relationships with their fathers (which would be almost everyone).

He was drawn to Alexandria by Judith. She's described in the first chapter by Rick as a babbling toddler, like she was talking to an imaginary friend, only that she seemed too young for it - he was wrong of course: Judith is advanced for her age ;) I suppose that with all that running around that Rick does, Judith just misses her dad a lot. Both in the comics and in the show Rick has a bit of a disappearing act: he often goes on missions, knowing he might not come back, or just goes on supply runs other people could reasonably handle on their own.

If you recall, the Zanna only showed up in a standalone Supernatural episode (11.08 Just My Imagination). I really liked the fact that they were shown to really be benevolent - creatures whose purpose is just to help children. Romanian folklore actually portrays them as guardian angels of sorts. I thought to myself: what would a creature like that do in the middle of the zombie apocalypse? They are not very powerful, after all. I imagine many Zanna died fighting zombies during the initial outbreak.

Next up, the second half of the story: Cas and his merry band of kids :)