"Rickie, can you take out the trash for me, please?" my mother hollered from the kitchen.
"Mooooom," I groaned.
"Now?"
I gritted my teeth, stomped over to the trashcan, pulled out the trash bag, and stomped to the back door. If my mom didn't think I was acting like a teenager, nothing would.
"Thank you Rickie," my mom called as I slid the glass door open.
"Whatever you say, Mom," I said sarcastically. I stepped outside and slammed the door. I couldn't help but grin. I could act when I really wanted to. I dragged the trash bag over to the side of the house and threw it into the trash bin. I turned and looked around.
"Sam! Dean!" I whispered loudly. I turned slowly, looking for any signs of movement, then looked over my shoulder. No one was there. I sighed, and started to trudge back to the house.
"Over here," a voice whispered. I whipped around.
"Sam?" I squinted, trying to see in the darkness.
"Over here!" It sounded like Dean this time. I looked around one last time, then hurried over to where the voices were. I was now in what Emma snidely called "The Redneck Backwoods", or the forest of trees that surrounded the entire right side of our house and went on to who knows where. I walked a few steps further, and paused.
"Sam! Dean!"
"Right here!" Sam's head popped out from behind a bush. Dean stepped out from behind a large oak tree, lugging with him a large beige duffle bag.
"What'cha got on the Ralsala?" I whispered.
"We figure our best bet is to get him tonight and jump on him by surprise," Sam said. He knelt on one knee on the ground and rummaged in his knapsack until he pulled out a large scroll. He unrolled it and spread the large white piece of paper on the ground. I sat down beside him on my heels.
"Bobby called back and told us that it can be a regular brass knife, so this makes things much easier for us when we go in; we won't have to worry about burning ourselves."
"Damn," Dean said sadly. "I was looking forward to a bonfire."
"Focus, Dean." Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face several times before pointing to the paper. "This is a layout of the house. Right here"-he pointed-"is Carrie's room.
"Unfortunately, her room is on the second floor, so it makes it harder to cover. But luckily for us, this will also make it harder for the Ralsala. Rickie, you'll be covering John's room. When he comes out, you jump him. Aim for his heart. Whatever you do, don't miss. Because if you do, it'll be pissed. And there's nothing a pissed-off Ralsalsa would like more than an extra snack of the person who pissed them off." He looked up. "Any questions?"
"Where will you guys be?" I asked nervously. This was a really fast transition from bait to the one who would take the Ralsalsa head-on, and I wanted to be sure they'll be able to back me up if I tripped up or make a mistake. I bit my thumbnail.
"Well"-Sam pulled out a Sharpie from his pocket and uncapped it-"The only two ways the Ralsalsa could get in is through the window and, of course, the door. I'll be stationed outside here"-he drew a dot outside the room on the first floor that was directly beneath Carrie's-"to keep him from coming around and entering through the window."
I was tempted to ask him how the Ralsalsa could climb the side of the house to get through the window, but thought better of it and just nodded.
"Dean will be right at the door of Carrie's room"-he drew another dot at the door of Carrie's room-"in case it gets past you."
"I have a question," Dean interrupted. He turned to me. "How'd you know what a Ralsalsa was?"
"I saw this one show with a Rakshasa in it. I looked it up to see if it was an actual legend, and the website had a list of the creatures related to it with its own legend. I read each one," I said proudly.
Dean snorted. "Geek."
"Jerk."
"Nerd."
"Dick."
Dean's mouth dropped open. He was quiet for a moment, probably trying to think of a name. "Dork," he finally managed.
"Moron."
Dean closed his mouth, opened it, and closed it again. "B-b-but… that's not fair," he whined. "There aren't that many synonyms for geek."
"I win," I said, grinning.
"Hey, guys," Sam said abruptly. He looked at me, Dean, the back to me again. "We only have one shot at this before Christmas Eve. If we don't kill this thing tonight, there's nothing that it'll stop at to get Carrie on the last night. It'll take a lot of guts, but we can't take any risks." He glanced at each of us again. "Do you understand?"
"You got it, Sam." I started biting my thumbnail again, and rocked back and forth on my heels. I shifted several times before giving up on finding a comfortable position. Sighing, I stood up.
"Sure thing, Sir Samuel Geek-a-lot," Dean said sarcastically.
"Jerk." Sam rolled the paper up and stuffed it in his bag before standing.
"Bitch."
Sam ignored him. "Rickie…" He glanced at Dean. "We know that you must be freaked out right now, but you haven't complained once. We're really proud of you. We wanted to give you something special for Christmas, but we're going to give it to you early." Dean nodded and handed me a small hand wrapped package. I chuckle when I saw what he had used to wrap it.
"Nice wrapping paper," I chortled, taking the package from him.
"Dean!" Sam said, exasperated.
"Busty Asian Beauties was the only magazine I had around! It's not like she's keeping the paper."
"I'm not?" I snapped my fingers like I was disappointed. "Damn it!"
"Just open the damn present," Dean said, rolling his eyes and trying to conceal his grin.
I smirked and peeled the tape off the wrapping before pulling the paper away. A small coin on a cord fell into my open hand.
"It was one of our dad's," Sam said earnestly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's a charm to ward off possession. It's pretty much a necessity for any hunter, beginner or expert. Do you like it?"
"No." I shook my head.
Sam's face fell.
"I love it!" I said, feeling a large grin unfurl on my face as I tied the cord around my neck. The coin was cold against my skin, but I couldn't help feeling elated. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Sam said, smiling.
"It was my idea," Dean boasted.
"It was not!" Sam protested.
"Prove it."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
I began to laugh. Sam and Dean joined in, Sam laughing his slight chipmunky chuckle and Dean letting out his loud low-pitched snicker. I could feel myself already missing them. It wasn't like we never see them, but it wasn't like they drop by every Sunday for fried chicken and green beans, either. The job just kept them moving everywhere. But even now, during their vacation, they found some work right here. There could be plenty of work that needed to be taken care of here; maybe they could stay part-time. I opened my mouth to suggest it, but a sudden sound interrupted me.
The sound of a twig snapping.
We all froze; the laughter immediately broke off. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my forehead broke out into a cold sweat. Was it the Ralsalsa? Did it hear everything? Or was it my mom? Did she hear everything? Did she find out about the Ralsalsa and about Sam and Dean's real job?
"Rickie," Dean said in a low voice. "Get down on the ground."
I obeyed and apprehensively laid on my stomach on the wet, cold forest floor. I peered around from my spot on the ground, watching for the slightest bit of movement. Dean pulled out two handguns from the beige duffel bag.
"Who's there?" he shouted, holding the gun out in front of him. He tossed the other to Sam, who caught it easily with one hand and moved swiftly in front of me. I couldn't see around him. Ugh, freakin' giant. I better be that tall when I'm 26.
"Who's there?" Dean shouted again.
"Relax," a voice said calmly. "It's just me." I watched as a figure stepped out from behind a tree, holding out his hands. He stepped into the moonlight, showing his face. I gasped.
Cliffhanger! Who is this mysterious figure? Next chapter… Please Review! I might not update unless I get at least one review. Thanks!
