Crash Course

By: Babyhilts

Chapter 8: Part 2

I waited in the busy parking lot of a quaint little outlet mall in Lawrence, Kansas. From limp arms dangled two weighed down bags reading La Femme Boutique across the front in elegant pink font. Inside them were the remains of my Velcro sandals and the outfit I'd bought at the discount store.

With every passing second I grew more impatient and felt more discomfort. A little less than an hour ago Dean had dropped me off at what appeared to be the priciest store in town in hopes that I would find something a bit more decent to wear for the hunt. Decent being of course something short and low cut. The way he said the word decent gave me the idea that what I was wearing was way too casual for his liking. Or, that maybe I didn't have enough class to be tagging along in the Metallicar. When he caught the furrow of my brow and the look of insult that appeared on my face, he made a quick attempt to redeem himself by tossing one of his fake credit cards at me and saying 'Knock yourself out.' As insulted as I was, I was a girl after all, and it was a free chance to go crazy on a new outfit.

The prices inside were well beyond what I could have afforded back in Vancouver, but then again, I wasn't in Vancouver anymore. I skimmed through a couple of the On Sale racks and then headed for the goodies near the display window. Before I left, I'd found the perfect summer type dress. I'd have preferred jeans, or maybe even a skirt, but this place seemed to only carry outfits made for outings at the country club or perhaps a semi formal. The dress I chose was a simple white, sleeveless thing that stopped an inch above the knee. It had this frilly almost floral like quality to it that I liked but it wasn't anything fancy enough to draw much attention. Next, I took a pair of dark brown Swede boots that zipped up the side and rode all the way up to just below my knees. So, that although the dress showed some leg, the boots took care of most of that. I borrowed a few squirts of perfume from one of the counters and stole a few shots of hairspray when no one was looking. A lip gloss and some blush and mascara later and I was set to go.

I did a quick job of my makeup, added a light pink to my lips and cheeks to appear a bit healthier despite my pale complexion. Loose blonde locks I mussed around to give more volume and hide the nasty bruise near my hairline. When I'd finished I caught Dean's impala easing across the blacktop towards me. Sam rode shotgun, his head bent forward, most likely on his laptop.

"You all set?" Dean shouted over the tape deck. He turned to look at me over Sam's slouched figure and paused in his attempt to speak once more. I watched, silent, his eyes looking me up and down. The way I'd seen him do with that little brunette at the bar. I felt my heart go up into my lungs because for the first time since I'd known him, Dean was actually checking me out. "You uhh, clean up nice."

I scrunched my face. "Well don't go too overboard Casanova."

I opened the back to the impala and climbed in a bit disappointedly. Sam looked at me front his spot next to Dean and reassured me that I'd done a good job of choosing an outfit and all that Jazz. I thanked him of course and handed back the credit card.

Dean shifted the impala into gear and we tore out of the parking lot, burning a trail of rubber behind us. The song on the tape deck switched over to Lynyrd Skynyrd and I let myself relax into the back seat. Sam's fingers tapped across the keyboard, Dean's tapped along the leather of the steering wheel. We drove this way until we caught the welcome sign to Stull.

Sam shut the laptop and placed it down by his feet. The volume of Lynyrd Skynyrd had been lowered but the faint sound of Free Bird drifted through the cars speakers as Sam informed me of what was about to go down.

"We've got you set up to go check out the cemetery. This town's rumored to not taking to kindly to tourists looking for cheap thrills."

"Well, that explains the whole 'chase us out of town' routine we previewed last night" Dean remarked. I turned to Sam.

"Cheap thrills? Do you guys tend on letting me in on what were even looking for?"

"Course sweetheart, were not sending you up to the cemetery to pick up a bunch of dead guys in that little number."

"Dean, do you mind?" Sam caught hold of my wandering gaze and kept it focused on himself. "Look, your job is to search the cemetery for Dean and me. That cruiser that followed us last night, I think it's the sheriff. People around here are really serious about this local legend and would probably have us strung up in the town square if they caught us snooping around."

"Oh, so when you thought of stalking an old cemetery and getting arrested you immediately thought who else but Leah?"

"Exactly."

"Dean, would you give it a rest man" Sam shook his head and continued. "We thought, Leah could pull it off because first, she's already a hunter. She knows what to look out for and what she can and can't handle. So, we don't have to worry about you as much. Second, we figured an attractive woman would be easier to bypass any security problems."

My face flushed at the compliment but my heart was thumping hard against my chest, while my brain screamed 'You idiot, tell them you're not a hunter.'

"I guess those are good reasons."

"So, no worries?"

I smiled "No worries."

Sam continued to explain what exactly I should be looking for at Stull cemetery. Supposedly the legend of Stull wasn't all that unknown, in fact, the reason they were sending me in was because the cemetery was patrolled hourly by a police cruiser. On top of the cops watching every move out-of-towners made, there were the locals who were said to not take a great liking to strangers trampling over the graves of loved ones. My job was simple. Dean would drop me off a few blocks from the cemetery and I would walk the rest of the way in case the same cop was lurking around. I'd have a bouquet of flowers to help with my alias of 'the dead grandmother's beloved granddaughter.' What I was looking for would be a different matter. I'd search for the famous steps that according to stories led to a gateway into hell. I say this right now without much fear, but in reality, when Sam first mentioned it I had the sudden urge to want to throw up.

"You probably wont even find anything" Sam reassured in that same tone he'd used this morning, as if this whole idea was ludicrous.

Sam ranted and raved as he recounted the stories of Stull cemetery to me. Information varied about the legend and most of what I heard was pretty far out there. The rumors could be traced back to the 70's when people started to tell these tales of strange occurrences happening in the small burg. Supposedly, Stull cemetery was one of the seven gateways to hell. People believed that the devil would visit the cemetery on Halloween night, I mean how cliché? Then there were reports that the devil's child was buried somewhere in the graveyard, that a witch had been hung from an old oak tree hundred's of years ago, and that if you were dumb enough to stumble upon the gateway, you would either never be able to leave the place or you'd escape and find you had been gone for weeks on end when it felt like only minutes.

"Here, take this too" Dean had opened the back of the trunk and handed me a busted up walkman. I shot him a questioning look.

"What's this for? So I can listen to Sabbath while I roam the graves?"

"No. It's an EMF meter. Use it. I figure you probably won't see anything in the daylight, but just in case check for any readings." He bent down and searched the trunk some more. Large callused hands glided over polished blades and well-handled guns. Dean stopped and took a quick glance at me from over his shoulder. "Take this."

A .45 found it's way into my clammy palms. The weight surprised me at first as I fingered the gun. The rough handle. The trigger. I couldn't do this.

"You can handle a .45 right?" Dean smirked.

"Duh."

"Good."

The tone of Dean's voice surprised me then. I'd picked up on the quick change in his voice when he asked me if I could handle it. He was being sarcastic, but there was a glimmer of doubt in his eyes, a waver in his throat that accidentally snuck out. For a second I figured he understood that I didn't know what I was doing. As much as I wanted him and Sam to catch me in my lie right then, just so I didn't have to face the big bads by myself, I also wanted to help. I didn't want to have ridden with them this far to be just another thorn in their side.

"It's just bullets in there" Dean's muffled voice called out from the depths of the trunk. "I doubt anything will pop up, but keep it just in case."

"A gun is a little extreme don't you think? I mean for a cemetery. In broad daylight. When the cops patrol hourly."

I couldn't hide the grin on my face.

"You wanna go in unprepared?"

"No, I'm saying we could probably go a little more subtle. This isn't the wild wild west you know."

"Okay, give me the gun back then."

I handed over the weapon. There was one problem taken care of. Dean pulled out a long sheathed blade from hiding and handed it to me. I studied the grip of the weapon, looked it over and realized, this could work. I'd have to get close to my attacker, but hey, they would be incorporeal.

"You want me to stab a ghost?"

"Who said it was a ghost? No. You're looking through the cemetery. It's just for…"

"Precaution?"

Dean locked eyes with me. I felt uncomfortable under the gaze, nearly naked, the way I had when Missouri had looked at me the first night we'd arrived in Lawrence. Sam honked the horn and Dean and I both jumped a little. I smiled and placed the covered blade into my right boot. They were fashionable and handy I noted.

"Follow this road straight on until you hit the cemetery."

"Sure thing."

"Hey…I…Sam and I will be doing some boring stuff. Background checking at the library and everything. So, if you run…if you find anything important call us." Dean handed me his cell phone. "Sam's number is in the contacts."

"Thanks Dean. I'll be good."

The impala's horn sounded once more. I laughed.

"Hold on! Kid's got abandonment issues or something."

"You better hurry. Only so much sunlight in a day."

Dean paled a moment. The cocky grin was swept and washed away by a sea of white. It scared me more than I was willing to let on and had I waited for it to disappear I know he would have noticed this uncertainty.

I started down the dirt road at a brisk walk, going as fast as I could to distance myself from the fear I'd seen, from the uncertainty that lay beneath all that attitude. I heard the echo of the trunk slamming shut.

"Don't try to be a hero, Leah."

I was far enough now that Dean couldn't see the doubt I held in. I looked at him, a shadow illuminated by the sun.

"If something goes wrong get out of there. Got it?"

My hands trembled. I couldn't speak. I spun on the heel of my boot and did a wave with the back of my hand to let them know I'd heard. Seconds later the driver's door shut with approval and the impala roared to life. When I looked back there was only a brown dust cloud left.

"This is it" I whispered.

Swede boots, shuffling through the thick, uncut grass, the monotonous beeping of the homemade EMF meter. I groaned as I made my way through another aisle of graves. I'd done a quick sweep around the pile of cement that used to be a church. I circled about the stump of an old oak, where supposedly the witch had been hung. I even waited a few minutes in front of one gravestone that read STULL in faded, bold lettering and still nothing displayed on the busted up walkman. I was starting to wish it actually did play Sabbath, at least then I wouldn't be completely bored out of my mind.

"Don't be a hero" I mocked the last words Dean had said to me. What was I supposed to do? Save the cemetery from being overrun by grass?

I kicked viciously at the ground with the toe of my boot. The weight of the blade inside made it very uncomfortable and I was about ready to leave any minute. If I don't seem some translucent freak in the next five minutes I'm buggering off, I threatened to myself.

This whole thing about Stull was beginning to seem like a bust just like Sam said it would be. Sam was always right though. Figures. With all the pacing I'd been doing I was actually hoping something supernatural would jump out at me. I mean then I wouldn't have been lurking around a cemetery like a moron for the past hour. A sweating, miserable, tired, moron.

I checked the time on Dean's cell phone. It was getting on towards five thirty. Great. I lowered the EMF to my side and began to head for the cemetery gates. I took the first step and suddenly there was a pressure met with a strong grip on my right shoulder. I screamed in spite of it and pulled forward in a stumble. I came within inches of tripping over, Sally Kenwall's gravestone before my knees hit the ground. I did a somersault and landed on my back, the sky tilting down towards me as I tried to catch my breath.

"Miss, are you alright?"

The dizziness slowly faded away. A tall, lanky man in his late forties rushed to my side. He took both my arms in his hands before I could answer and began to ease me back onto my feet. He wore a pair of old jeans that were well used as indicated by the stained layers of dirt and white paint. The red flannel shirt hung off his thin shoulders while a blue hat, covered in old car oil, hid most of his face. I felt him eyeing me up.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

I brushed the grass off my knees and elbows and forced a flirtatious grin. What was it that Dean had said to me on the way here? 'If you run into anyone, just stall. Flirt, act innocent, whatever. Just don't be a smartass!'

"What are you doin' all alone up here?"

I gestured towards a recently dug grave where my bouquet of flowers rested.

"I'm just here visiting. I'm Evelyn's granddaughter."

"Funeral was months ago."

Shit. "I know and I tried to make it down in time but my job wouldn't let me." I forced the tears to rise up before I broke out into quiet sobs. "God, I can't believe I didn't come when it happened. I should have stayed here with her. She always wanted me to visit and I never did. Until now. And now she's gone."

I threw my head back and let the tears streamline down my face. The older man took a step back, unsure of what to do. Inside I was cheering, because it was only a matter of time before he understood that it would be best to leave the hysterical, crying girl alone.

"Oh, no hon." The man closed in the gap around us. "Evelyn would be glad to know that you tried."

"But I didn't try hard enough. I could have cancelled appointments; I could have bought the plane ticket that day and…"

"No, you listen to me" I felt his arms wrap about my waist and he pulled me into his chest. This obviously wasn't how I imagined it would go. "Your grandmother was a great woman. An understanding woman and she wouldn't want you up here, crying your sweet heart out about missing her funeral. You came, that's all that would have mattered to ole' Evelyn."

I sniffled. "I guess so."

"I know so."

The man released me from the tight embrace and held me at a foot's distance away. He searched my teary eyes and smiled. I forced a smile back. His hands fell away from my arms.

"Are you visiting someone too?" I asked innocently.

"No. I'm part of the city council. I come up here and make sure nothing funny is going on."

"What do you mean?"

"Vandals. Tourists. People believe this ole' cemetery here is haunted. They come here expecting to see some ghosts or devils or some evil nonsense only foolish headed people would believe."

"That's sick. To think someone like that is just trampling across my grandmother's grave."

"Don't you worry none. We've been doing a bang up job keeping the likes of them out of here."

"Thank you so much… I didn't catch your name."

"It's Earl."

"Thank you Earl."

"It's not a problem. You need a lift into town or anything dear?"

I shook my head. "I think I'd like to stay here with my grandmother a little longer."

Earl flashed a toothless grin and nodded. "You take your time. Have a good day."

"You too."

The old man disappeared slowly from view. I returned to the grave of Evelyn Wellington and pulled out Dean's cell phone. I made sure to survey the cemetery once more. When none of the other locals jumped out from behind the tombstones, I dialed Sam's number. On the second ring Dean picked up.

"Find anything?"

"Nothing" I said. There was a shuffling noise in the background. "What's going on?"

"Not much. Sam and I tore through all the archives. There isn't anything here."

"Well this job's been a bust. Feel like picking me up?"

"Don't want the exercise?" I heard the cocky smile and sighed.

"Just pick me up Dean."

"Fine. Meet us where we dropped you off. We'll be there in fifteen."

"Thanks."

I dropped the phone in the sole pock of my dress and began to trample my way across the burnt grass. It was all down hill from there on, but the sun was still sending down waves of sweltering heat that sent me sweating through the white fabric. Lines of perspiration ran, trickling down my face as I huffed out another tired breath. When a lonely cloud dragged across the bright star in the sky and the cemetery was consumed in shadows I breathed out a thanks. It was the first shade I'd had all day.

A cool wind ruffled the once still trees, sending down a shower of dead leaves. The air dropped dramatically all at once and I froze, mid-step next to the rubble of the old church. Fear took hold. I looked from side to side, glancing over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of a wandering spirit. My stomach churned with sick anticipation. I wanted to break out into a run until I found myself safe in the impala but my legs were rubber. A chill shot up my lower back and wound slick, bony fingers into my head. I was caught in a silent scream.

Leah.

I searched the empty graves. Nothing.

Leah.

I spun around a few times in hopes of locating the eerie voice. It felt so close but it sounded like it was coming from everywhere; from beneath the ground, crying out from the graves, floating along the crisp summer's air.

Winchester.

A flurry of lights near my feet caught my attention. For a moment I was able to pull myself away from the voice and notice the EMF meter in my hand. The lights danced wildly from left to right, never halting in their movement. I wasn't an expert ghost hunter, but I knew enough to know that something wasn't right.

Death by twilight.

Clutching the EMF meter I steadied the thrashing of my heart and tore down the hill as fast as I could. The tombstones created a bit of an obstacle course and more than once the unprotected parts of me caught against their rough surface. It didn't matter though. I kept up the run and didn't let out until I saw the familiar black sheen of the old Chevy coming down the road.