Refer to chapter one for all the mumbo jumbo stuff. And thanks much for all the lovely reviews. I meant to get this out earlier, but the site was being mean again…so, finally, enjoy!
Everything Changes
Chapter Four
The door swung open on squeaky hinges, echoing throughout the small motel room as the elder walked in.
After checking out the graveyard and successfully locating Townsen's headstone, John had driven the boys back to the motel to prepare. Four hours following their arrival at the motel John had left his boys alone to finish getting ready, going out to grab some grub.
"Hey boys, how's everything coming along?" John asked, tossing the bag of food to his eldest after digging out his meal and placing it onto the table.
Sam and Dean were sitting on different beds, same as they had been when John had left twenty minutes earlier.
"We're done. All three shotguns are checked and loaded with rock salt, and multiple books of waterproof matches, two canisters of lighter fluid, and a can of salt are packed in the duffle," Dean replied, placing the duffle bag onto the floor and pulling Sam's burger from the food bag. A mischievous grin appeared on his young face before he hurled it at the preoccupied young boy's head, earning him a scowl from his target.
"Good, good," John said thoughtfully, knowing in a half-hour it would be pitch black outside, only the full moon to provide a soft glow of light for the hunters.
The family ate in silence, all feeling the effects of normal pre-hunt jitters.
As John observed the sun finally disappear behind the trees, the final rays descending over the horizon, he announced it was time to leave. He ushered his boys out to the car, grabbing the duffle off the floor on his way. Once the boys were settled, John walked around to the back and popped the trunk, propping up the lockbox to reveal his weapons.
He hesitantly looked around the trunk before grabbing his trusty handgun from its compartment, along with extra bullets; however, he knew it would be useless in their current situation. Making sure the gun was loaded, he put it in the back of his pants and the bullets in his front pocket before closing the trunk with a thud.
Joining his boys in the car at last, John slid the key into the ignition, grinning slightly when the old car purred to life.
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John eased the car to the side of the road, across from the graveyard, and cut it off, sitting in a silent reflection. After a few moments his brain finally decided to kick-start, throwing the man into action.
"All right boys, this is it. Stay close to me, keep your shotguns ready at all times, and watch out for each other," John ordered, directing the last part mostly towards Dean, both boys nodding.
"Dean, grab the duffle. I'll get the shovel out of the trunk; wait for me to come around to your side before you two get out," John said, exiting the car and retrieving the shovel before going to the passenger side to let his boys out. "Let's go."
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As soon as they reached Howard Townsen's grave, John immediately went to work. He pushed the shovel deep into the earth with his boot clad foot before cranking the wood back and removing a clump of grass and dirt. Push, lift, repeat.
…
After watching their father labor over the grave for a minute, Dean set the duffel onto the soft grass. As he bent down to unzip the material he noted Sam move closer to him from the shadows. Pulling the salt, matches, and lighter fluid out, Dean handed Sam the matches and lighter fluid, keeping a hold of the salt.
"Here, sit down next to the bag. I'm gonna put a circle of salt around us while Dad digs the grave, okay?"
"Okay," Sam answered, dropping down next to the duffle and watching Dean draw a large circle around him.
"So…how you doing?" Dean asked as he sat down beside his brother.
"Good."
"Good? Good, that's good," Dean replied distractedly, eyes wondering to the surrounding area; studying, searching. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that there was something up with this case. Some things just didn't add up. He didn't understand how people were disappearing. Where did they go to? How come no one had ever found any bodies? It felt wrong that they had just up and vanished into thin air.
Absentmindedly placing an arm around Sam's shoulder and pulling him closer, Dean sat in contemplation.
…
John went to plow the shovel down into the dirt again, but this time he was met with a heavy thunk of resistance.
"Finally," he sighed. "I've got it boys!"
Evening out the dirt, John reached down to unlock the casket and pull the heavy lid open, revealing Townsen's decaying bones.
Scrunching up his face in disgust, John called for Dean to come over and pour the salt onto the bones.
As Dean got up from his spot on the ground, John heard a rustling within the wooded area yards to the left of him.
And that's when he saw the yellow eyes.
He barely had time to react before the creature burst from the trees and hurtled its massive body towards the three hunters.
Thinking fast, John pulled the gun from the back of his jeans, taking three shots at the creature, which all hit the chest of the being, before it could reach him or, more importantly, his boys.
But that didn't stop it. Regular rounds didn't work on what John realized it was.
A werewolf.
Shit.
"Boys, get to the car now!"
All three took off into a sprint, John dragging his boys with him, the werewolf gaining ground fast.
John suddenly felt the absence of one of his boy's hands from his own, stopping to look back over his shoulder. What he saw made his heart stop.
"Sammy!"
TBC…
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Wow, that's the first big cliffy I've ever written! Yay me! (evilgrin)
Review and let me now your thoughts, feelings, concerns, rants, whatever. What'cha thinkin' people?