Chapter 2
We walked alongside the main road for a bit as Dean attempted to receive 'service' on his phone.
"So, where is home exactly?"
"Hmmm…" he hummed absentmindedly as he held his phone up high in the air.
As if an extra foot would make a difference.
"You said we'd go home to see Sammy. We don't have a home."
"We do now, you'll love it Hens, the things massive, it's like our very own bat cave. Except probably way cooler. It has a proper kitchen, a dining room, a library, a ten car space underground garage, multiple bedrooms, great water pressure. I know how much you used to complain about that."
"How on God's green earth did you manage to afford that?" I laughed.
"We inherited it from our grandfather, it was left empty for years." He said grinning.
"Grandpa Sam left it behind?"
"No, dad's father Henry, the guy you were named after."
"What the dead beat father who walked out on Dad. The guy must have been loaded."
"Yeah, turns out he didn't walk out on him. He was a part of a secret society and managed to time travel into the future and died here." I shook my head in disbelief.
"Yeah, cause that sounds like the most logical explanation."
"After the things Sam and I have seen, nothing can surprise us anymore." I suddenly punched him in the arm causing him to hiss in pain.
"I'm sorry, did that surprise you." I grinned while he glowered at me. He then turned his attention back to his phone as the no service icon was replaced with a quarter of the bars filled.
"Finally" he sighed in relief before he opened up an app called 'uber'.
"What's that?" I asked watching as he pressed a few more buttons.
"I'm calling an uber" Seeing my puzzled face he explained. "It's like a cheaper version of a taxi service, except it is driven by normal everyday people."
"Isn't that dangerous?" I asked confused, the future was so weird.
"Don't worry Chick, your big brother Dean will protect you from the super evil Uber drivers." He laughed, I hit him again on his bad arm. He hissed again.
"I'm fifteen minutes older than you, you ass."
"Would you stop doing that?" He asked sharply.
"Will you stop being such a twerp?" I retorted snidely.
"How would you like it if I dislocated your arm?" He snapped.
"I'd like to see you try old man." I snorted.
"I'm 37 that's hardly old." He murmured defensively. I mockingly placed my own hand over my mouth gasping.
"Oh, you poor geriatric bastard, it's worse than I thought. You've got the 37s, should I call a doctor?"
"Just stop it Henley."
"Hey, this makes you old enough to be my father." He turned to me horrified at the thought.
"You will not say another word to anyone about this."
"Fine with me, as long as you no longer tell people we're twins, I can't be seen hanging around an old guy." I joked nudging him, I could see him try to suppress a smile out of the corner of my eye.
"How far away is the ubra?"
"About 5 minutes."
"Then how far's the… bat cave or home as you call it, after that?"
"We call it the Bunker, It's over in Lebanon, Kansas it's about a 9 hour drive, we'll have to hotwire a car in St. Louis, we should make it there by lunch. Man, Sammy's going to be in for a shock. He still misses you after all these years, I did too."
"I miss him too, well the younger him anyway. How long after we get to the bunker will you be sending me back?"
"What do you mean back?" Dean asked incredulously.
"You know, back to 1995, like in Back to the Future. It's not like I can stay here Dean, I mean I'm not exactly from this time period. I've got Sammy to look after back home and dad, even you too. I mean, once I get back it will all go back to normal." Half way through my spiel Dean abruptly stopped walking.
"Henley, I don't think…" I looked at him patiently, he seemed off, there was something vacant in his eyes like what I had just said had upset him.
"Dean, you know I have to go back home right." I frowned sombrely looking into his matching set of eyes.
"Right?" I questioned again. I turned to look away as a car rolled up besides us. Plastering on what was perhaps the fakest grin I could muster, I hoped into the back seat while Dean walked around to the side door.
"Where would you two like to go?" A male's voice rang out, I looked into the rear-view mirror to see a young rather attractive face.
"We'd like to get to St Louis if possible." I smiled sweetly.
He grinned and replied with a "no problem" before indicating back onto the road. We were about 20 minutes into our trip and so far all Dean had done was stare ahead at the open road in silence. I meanwhile made pleasant chatter with the driver who was named something starting with M.
"So, how did a pretty girl like you end up walking barefoot on the side of a road?" He asked overtaking a truck driver working the night shift.
"Oh, we were on our way to St. Louis to visit our nan, but our car broke down about half a mile back. My idiot brother here figured we could walk the rest of the way back into town then call a tow truck in the morning. So I told him, there is no way I'm walking two miles to the nearest motel. Let's just take an Ubra."
"Uber" Dean whispered.
"Uber." I repeated quickly.
"So here we are, and we were really lucky too that a handsome fella like you came along. I was worried we'd run into a Gilberto Chamba type serial killer." I said attempting to sound really worried.
"Don't worry miss, you're in good hands." He said winking through the mirror, I grinned.
"Oh, I bet. What did you say you're name was?" I flirted back. I could see Dean becoming more and more irritated.
"Alright, alright Bobby Wheeler enough with the lovey dovey eyes, she's underage." Dean bit out glaring at Mathew… Mark… Marcus, that's it.
"Dean!"
"I'm just doing my job man."
"Just keep your eyes on the road and your questions to yourself or else you and I will have a problem." The look Dean gave him seemed to put the fear of God into his eyes.
We all suffered in long silence for the remaining half an hour of the trip. Marcus finally pulled up just outside a bar at the edge of town before letting us out.
I watched my step as I got out, weary for broken glass pieces. I was about to follow after Dean when Marcus rolled down the car window handing me a piece of paper.
"Hey, here's my twitter username, DM me, maybe sometime we can go get a drink." He smirked as I bit my lip pretending to think over it.
"Get out of here before I call the cops and tell them you're a paedophile." Dean glared at him snatching the number from my hand. Less than five seconds later the car disappeared from site.
"Really Dean, he seemed alright to me." I raised my eyebrow before shaking my head.
"Alright people don't ask teenagers out for drinks, the very last thing you need is to slide into his DM's."
"His degenerative myelopathy, I don't think he's a dog Dean." I answered confused.
"Yeah, degenerative myelopathy, keep thinking that." Dean chuckled as we made our way towards a colony of empty cars that were ripe for the picking.
"And what's a twitter?"