Chapter Four, "4. Westchester Security and Communications, Inc."

On a stormy sea of moving emotion,

Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean,

I set a course for winds of fortune,

And I hear the voices say

"Carry on My Wayward Son," Kansas

"I've asked you all to come here because my son and I got a new business operation going."

"What kinda business, John?"

"If you'd shaddup and let me finish, you'd find out."

"Is it to do with your fancy gear?"

"Yeah. What we're peddling are new hunting weapons and a hunting tablet."

"What the fuck's a tablet?"

"If you knuckleheads would pipe down, I'm sure he'd explain it."

"Thanks, Ellen. See this here? This is a mini-computer called a tablet or Pad. This holds an encyclopedia of my notes, Bobby Singer's, Pastor Jim's, and Ash here's notes on all the baddies we've experienced and have knowledge of, along with a map of all our hunts so we can spot patterns. Everyone can add to our info, so we can all share what we'd done and what we're doing and what we know."

"Seems like a lotta work tryin' to fix summat that don't need fixin'. What we got going is fine enough, right fellas?"

"Yeah!" "That's right!"

"Don't need fixin'? Why don't we tell that to Johnny Matson and Troy Smithers that got in over their heads with those wendigos? Or Mark Summers and that pack of werewolves? Or even my dear Billy? If he and John – "

[Ellen could not continue, so John finished her thought]

"If Bill and I'd known more of the history of the area, then maybe Ellen here wouldn't be a widow."

[pause]

"What would we need to do, John?"

"You'd plug this tablet into a computer connected to the internet, even one at the library would do. It'll update what's been added to the encyclopedia and map. You can add your own notes and locations, but it'll have ta be approved by certain folks. Fuck knows some you lot won't know what you're doing and try ta mess it all up."

[some guffaws and nods]

"You can take pictures with this and make video calls when connected to the internet, so you can still call Ash, Bobby, or Pastor Jim if needed – or well anyone who also has this tablet so we can share info easy. Here, I'll pass it around so y'all can play with it. It's made to be manhandled, so it won't break easy."

[The tablet is passed around, and everyone's amazed at it.]

"Got one important question, John."

"No you can't watch porn on it."

[laughter]

"Haha, so funny. No, my question is, what's the catch? There's gotta be one. This gonna cost an arm and a leg?"

"Y'all get it for free."

"But?"

"No buts. Anyone putting their life on the line to hunt deserves something like this to help."

"How can you afford this? It's gotta be major dough, man."

"The tablet'll be free, but the weapons and ammo? That'll cost ya."

"What makes you think we'll buy off ya, when we have our own that are just fine?"

"Just fine? That's why your gun jammed last week and Daryl had to save your sorry ass?"

"What makes yours so special? You say your son-in-law makes 'em, but just who is he? Why should we trust his work?"

"He works within Stark Industries, and Dean's been working with him to make Stark weapons for hunters. These babies are made specifically for salt and iron shells and silver bullets. The design is already sawed off, so no issues with that. Let's just go out back, and I'll give a demonstration."

[They move outside for the demonstration all grumbling and return ten minutes later silent.]

"So? Who wants one?"

[Every hunter raised his/her hand]

"And you can make cheques out to Westchester Security and Communications, Inc.."

"Really?"

"Fuck no, like I trust any of your cheques. Cash only, assholes."