Chapter four

Just when Dean thought it was safe for his eyes to slide closed, the loud opening guitar rift of The Misfit's Helena caused his mobile phone to bounce upon the bedside table. With a groan, he shot an arm across to snatch it, bringing it to his ear loosely,

"Yeah?" He answered,

"Thank God! Dean, it's Greg."

"Hey man…" Dean murmured, "What's up?"

"I had to call you to check."
"Check what?"

"Haven't you heard?"
"…heard what?"

"About the accident."

"What accident?!" Dean asked, growing frustrated,

"On the bypass to the interstate this afternoon. There was a multi-car pile-up. A lot of the reunion goers were involved and I was worried you were one of them…y'know…what with you heading back to Canada and everything."

"God…" Dean trailed off,

"So you and Lola are okay?"

"Yeah…we're fine…" He mumbled in shock,

"It's the weirdest thing…Sophie died last night and this morning three of the old football team drove over the cliffs after their brakes failed…" Greg exclaimed, "And just before the crash Samantha Stuart was found hung in her apartment…" He trailed off, laughing nervously, "It's almost as if someone wants us all dead…" He attempted to joke,

"…"

"Dean? You okay man?"

"…yeah…" Dean replied thoughtfully, "I'm just…y'know…shocked."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah…I'm gonna head back down there…y'know…pay my respects."

"Okay man." Greg replied, "Let me know when you get back in town."

"Okay." Dean hung up, looking at the phone in his hand for a short while before sighing and searching the internal phone book for Sam's number. Pressing call, he wearily moved it back to his face, waiting for Sam's answer,

"Hello?"

"Sam, it's Dean."

"Hey…what's up?"

"We've got a problem."

"What?"

"There's been more deaths from my class."

"…right. Stay where you are. I mean…it's possible that it's just a co-incidence, but I'd rather not take chances until we can get back to you."

"This is no coincidence." Dean said seriously, "Something nasty's after us."
"Dude. Where are you? We'll come and meet you."

"No." Dean shook his head, "I'm heading back to Lawrence."

"Dean! No! If something's after you, what's to say it's not going to get you on the way back there?"
"If something's after me, it's going to get me wherever I am, whether it's in a motel room or in the car." Dean reasoned, "It's a good five hours back, I need to get going. I'll meet you back at the motel we stayed at last night."

"Dean!" Sam snapped but to no avail as the elder of the pair had already hung up on him. Muttering something obscene under his breath, Sam grabbed his jacket that was slung over the back of a chair and looked up to Bobby, "I'm sorry…we've gotta go."

"What's up?" Bobby asked, following Sam to the door,

"Dean's in trouble. Something's killing all the people from the reunion."

"Right…I'll have a look…see what information I can find. I'll call you."

"Thanks." Sam replied as he started to jog across the darkened scrap yard to the truck.

Inside, Maggie and Lola laughed together over a large bag of Reece's Pieces, some soft dance music drifting through the cab from the circular speakers at their feet. Sam opened the door, looking at the two girls for a second before breathlessly explaining the situation. There was no debate as Maggie scooted over in the truck to let Sam in. As soon as the door shut behind him, the truck screeched out of the yard, gaining speed with every second as Lola slammed her foot down on the accelerator,

"…and he's going back to Lawrence?" Lola asked in disbelief, "Is he mad?"

"He said that if it's going to get him, it's going to get him no matter where he is."

"Ugh…God…" Lola muttered, speeding along through the darkness, "We need to catch up with him."
"Don't kill us!" Maggie exclaimed,

"Sorry…" Lola sighed, "I'm just worried…"

Rubbing at her eyes wearily, Lola slumped against Sam, closing her eyes. Sam glanced down at her quickly before looking back at the road,

"We're almost there." He reassured,

"I need coffee…" She mumbled, stifling a yawn and looking over to Maggie,

"Maggie's asleep." She told Sam who smirked,

"We've been driving all night. She was awake when we stopped at that gas station and swapped over."

"What time is it?"

"About one."

"Jesus…" Lola breathed, wiping the hair off of her face, pulling it back tightly, securing it with the hair elastic she'd snapped around her wrist earlier, "Right." She said abruptly, sitting up strait in an attempt to wake herself up, "So we get back to the motel, if you call him, I'll hit the net and get as much information on the deaths as possible because I know that he's not going to be sitting there waiting for us…he's going to be out there, risking his skin like he always is."

Sam smiled faintly,

"You know him well."

"Of course I do." She mumbled, reaching forwards to the glove compartment, pulling out a large leather-bound book, "I've just had a thought…" She said,

"What?"
"This couldn't be a vengeful spirit…I mean…it's not central to a location…or a method of death…so it must be something else."

"I don't know…a couple of years ago we dealt with a vengeful spirit that moved through the water systems, drowning it's victims."
"That's consistent…this isn't."
"True."
"I mean…when you called Dean a couple of hours ago, what did he say had happened so far?"

"Gas leak…car crash…cliff-side accident."

"Wow…whatever this is, it kills in style!" Lola joked, "But the fact that it's inconsistent worries me…there's nothing to watch out for. It's going to be difficult to protect Dean…how many people have died so far?"

"About fifteen…but Dean's graduating class was quite small. About fifty and twelve of them have died since school…so that leaves twenty-three students left including Dean."

"Why was it so small?"
"There weren't that many kids that year and there were three high schools in the town. Ours was the smallest."

"Okay…well…there must be something that's connecting the victims…like…perhaps social cliques or…something…?" Lola struggled, "Maybe Dean'll be safe…what kind of student was he…?"

Sam snorted,

"The fact that he graduated has forever baffled me…he was friends with everyone…really…I mean, he got in his fair share of fights, but he always had a date to every dance…y'know…he wasn't a loner but he wasn't uber popular either…he was just…Dean…"

"Sure sounds about right…" Lola breathed, slumping back in the seat, "I don't know…"

"Hey…don't worry about it, we'll get to the bottom of it when we get into town."

Stepping carefully across the well-maintained lawn, Dean moved through the darkened gardens of Chelsea's apartment building. After everything that was going on, he knew he had to somehow reason with her, though how he was going to explain the situation, he hadn't quite figured out yet. He had decided to just improvise.

He pressed and held the buzzer for Chelsea's apartment before waiting a few seconds Growing impatient he hit the button again and again until after four attempts he realised no one was going to answer. He looked from side to side before moving quickly out back into the garden. Looking up at the building, he exhaled heavily,

"Long way up…" He muttered to himself, reaching out and hoisting himself up onto a balcony, climbing up the windows and balconies slowly until he reached the fifth floor, collapsing over the side of the railings with exhaustion. Resting back against the cold concrete for a few seconds before jumping up, Dean peered carefully through the long net curtains of the glass doors, he could see the bathroom light on across the large living area. He tried the handle and was relieved to discover that it opened. He stepped in cautiously,

"Chelsea…?" He called out quietly, "Chelsea?!" He called again a little louder, moving slowly across the room. He reached behind him to grab the handle of his gun that was tucked into his belt. Easing it out slowly, Dean held onto it with both hands in front of him as he edged towards the lit bathroom, the door only open a few inches.

Standing to the side of the small opening, he knocked,

"Chelsea? It's Dean." He called, "Chelsea?" He asked, swallowing hard before nudging the door slightly with his elbow. Taking a deep breath he moved into the bright bathroom, "Jesus!" He exclaimed, stumbling back at the sight before him.

Submerged in the large white enamel bath was Chelsea's motionless form. She was slouched beneath the murky, pale red water that filled the tub three quarters of the way up. A long line of bloodied flesh smiled from her throat, her lifeless green eyes staring vacantly at him, damp blonde hair framing her pale white face with golden waves. Dean cursed as he approached carefully, his boots squeaking on the white tiles of the bathroom. He crouched beside the tub, looking into her face sadly,

"I'm sorry…" He mumbled before the sudden sound of a siren pierced through the apartment, "Oh crap…" He muttered as he realised that it grew closer, coming to a stop outside of the apartment building. Keeping low, he made his way back to the balcony, peering out of the window and down to the courtyard where a police car sat. Growling low in his throat, he edged towards the doorway, reaching for the handle until there was a loud knock,

"Open up please! This is the police!"

"Double crap!" Dean huffed, turning and heading back to the balcony quickly. Opening the door, he ducked back out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could before crouching against the wall beneath the window as the front door was kicked in. Dean listened carefully as the two policemen made their way through the apartment, discovering Chelsea's corpse in the bathroom. Dean looked from his left to his right, wondering exactly how he was going to get down from the balcony without being discovered or breaking his neck, "Triple crap…" He muttered, ducking his head in exasperation.

Sam rubbed at his face wearily as Lola closed the motel room door behind them,

"Dean's not here." She said seriously,

"How'd you know?" Maggie asked, rubbing her eyes with a yawn,

"The Impala's not parked outside…"
"He might have gone to Chelsea's place." Sam said, "I'm gonna call him and see where he is…he shouldn't be alone. Maggie…get online and get whatever info you can, alright? Lola, give Bobby a call, yeah? See if he's got any information?"

"Right." Both girls agreed in unison, darting off to their respective locations within the room.

Sam pulled up Dean's mobile number on his phone, pressing dial before moving it to his ear, stuffing his free hand loosely into his pocket. He frowned as it continued to ring until it finally automatically switched to voicemail. He paled, looking to his partners with concern,

"He's not answering." He said hesitantly swallowing hard.