Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay here we go again. I have to appologize first off because this story has not been fully beta'd. Laura very graciously looked over a part of it, but I simply did not get the rest to her in time. So as always any mistakes are completely mine. - Catch you next week - Kel ;)
Chapter 3
"Please," Christine moaned as she yanked the metal cuffs that encircled her wrists. "Please, just let me go."
Smith smiled at the young girl that lay spread eagle on his very special bed. She was positioned dead center in the middle of the dirty mattress, her arms and legs cuffed to the frame. He'd chosen the petite young lady to go first for the simple reason that she was the shorter of the two.
Though experience had taught him that regardless of his guest's size the payout would be fantastic, he had learned, as any connoisseur would agree, there was something to be said for delayed gratification.
He eagerly rubbed his hands together in anticipation for the fun that was to come. Talk about delayed gratification, he hadn't had one this short since he'd offered his help to a man and his nine year old daughter over three years ago.
Normally he stayed away from children for the simple fact that they gave up too quickly, at the time, however, his longing to practice his craft had overcome his dislike. He'd been right, in so far, as she had given up quickly, his disappointment hadn't lasted though as he found her supple body more than made up for her lack of fight.
As Christine continued to beg and plead, her words nearly incoherent, Smith glanced outside the bedroom window at the abandoned car. A slight frown marred his handsome features as he stared at the wide-open driver's side door. Even from here, he could make out the dent that now resided in the front quarter panel.
The fact that the blonde had managed to escape him only served to increase his interest in her. The trouble she'd already caused him proved she was fighter, breaking her would be a challenge.
He had no doubt Julie was under the impression that there was help to be found. She'd soon find just how mistaken she was.
His home's harsh terrain had driven off even the most intrepid of people. Abandoned years ago, the road he lived upon was a winding stretch of nothing.
Even before '64 when President Johnson had visited Kentucky, to declare his war on poverty, the road was seldom traveled. Then with the advent of the highway, it had become nothing more than a dimly remembered sightseeing route.
The last three decades had been lean ones for Smith. He'd found himself with little choice but to gain satisfaction in the few wanderers that had the misfortune to need directions, gas or mechanical help. The advent of cell phones hadn't helped, though he was lucky considering the fact that cell reception was often shoddy at best in the valleys and peaks he called home.
No, there was no chance Julie would make it out alive of that he was certain. As soon as he had Christine settled he'd take to the surrounding forest in search of the willowy young lady. He actually felt a bit of a thrill at the idea, it had been at least a century since he'd needed to forage through wilderness in search of prey.
He only hoped he hadn't lost his touch, he thought with a chuckle as he gave Christine one last glance. "Just stay put, I'm going to go get your friend, and then we shall begin."
Other than the tears that ran from her eyes in rivers, there wasn't a mark to be found on the diminutive brunette. His plan for her had gone like clockwork. Picking the lock on the car had been a breeze and the ether soaked handkerchief had done the trick. The young girl had no idea anything was even wrong until the moment she'd awoken strapped to the iron bedstead.
"Please, leave her alone," Christine moaned, her huge brown eyes wide with fright.
Like a rabbit caught in a snare, her shaking increased as he leaned closer. He only stopped once he loomed over her, and then with a mild smile, he said, "It warms my cold jaded heart that you want to keep me from your friend. I just knew you two shared a special bond."
"Don't hurt her," Christine begged as she pulled against her restraints. "Don't you dare."
"Oh, come now. Everything is going to be fine. Take comfort in the fact that soon you won't be alone," Smith said as he headed for the exit.
Eager to find Julie before dawn, he made a quick stop in his bedroom to exchange the chinos and buttoned down shirt he'd been wearing for a tee-shirt and bib-overalls. After all, if he were going hunting, he wanted to make sure he looked the part.
888
Dean eased her to the blacktop and went over his assessment. Near as he could tell the girl had a dislocated shoulder, a bump on her head that screamed concussion and was covered in a mess of bruises. It looked as though someone had done their damndest to beat the hell out of her. If Dean was any judge, they had very nearly succeeded.
As he straightened, he cast a wary eye over the surrounding forest. His hand automatically straying toward the pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He paused at the last minute not wanting to tip his hand to the unseen eyes he felt sure were watching him.
Whoever had done this didn't seem willing to risk a confrontation to get her back. At least, he amended to himself, not a direct attack.
He stood undecided for a moment. If he were alone, he would have turned the tables on his would-be stalker. Problem was this time his hands were tied by the girl that lay unconscious on the roadway. He wouldn't be doing her any favors by trying to find her attacker while she lay broken and bruised.
Decision made, the hunter left her side, hurried around the hood of the car, and swung the rear passenger door wide open. Normally, the car door's familiar creek was a balm to his soul. Tonight however, given the circumstances, it seemed more like a calling card to every bit of nasty that roamed the heavily wooded forest.
Ready at last, he returned to the girl's side and took a knee. With regret, he hefted her into his arms and settled her against his chest. He had no doubt he was causing her pain. Given her dislocated shoulder, any kind of motion had to be agony, but he had little choice. Treating her here wasn't an option. He needed to get her somewhere safe before he could help her.
Hating the helpless feeling that crept up his spine as he placed his back toward the trees, he moved toward the open door. Quickly and efficiently, he slid her onto the leather bench seat and straightened. The fact that she didn't cry out when he set her down, made him think the lump she was sporting had done more damage than he'd first thought.
Once she was loaded, he gave the area one last long look. He hated the idea of leaving the bastard who'd hurt her running free, but he really had little choice in the matter. Finding her help had to be his first goal. With an oath, Dean climbed into the black car and fired her up.
With the engine's rumble soothing his anxiety, he fumbled for the phone he'd dropped earlier. Then his intent had been to find a way off this damn mountain. His priorities however had changed. His new goal was to find the girl medical treatment and hopefully a cop to turn the situation over to. He didn't have time to track down this girl's boyfriend, or whoever it was that had felt the need to beat her to a pulp, and return the favor.
After he'd managed to snag the phone out from under the break pedal, he dialed the number for information. While he did, he put the car in gear intent on getting away from any danger that might be lurking. With no real destination in mind, he began to cruise.
This time he didn't even get two rings before the phone cut out. A glance at the screen showed that his signal level was nonexistent. With a curse, he dropped the useless hunk of junk onto the seat next to him and concentrated on the road.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he thought of his father's reaction to his current situation. Only a son of John Winchester would manage to find himself in the middle of nowhere with an unconscious girl on his hands.
888
Something was wrong, of that Julie had no doubt. Her head pounded in time to her heartbeat, each throb causing her already nauseas stomach to roil uneasily. Unsure of what was going on, she worked to keep still and tried to get her bearings.
The lack of Christine's soft snore was her first clue that things weren't right. Her friend was a great companion, with only one true flaw. She snored. It wasn't anything earth shaking, but the slight whistle she made when she slept was a constant that Julie could count on. On rare occasions, when she found herself having trouble drifting off, she often focused on the noise allowing it to lull her into sleep.
Now however, the absence of that small sound seemed like the biggest void of all.
Her next clue that all wasn't right with the world, was the throaty growl of the car she could feel moving beneath her. Her Focus, while good on gas, could never achieve such a powerful sound. At best, it only ever managed a soft purr.
No longer able to put of the inevitable, Julie forced her eyes open and stared up at the taupe colored ceiling above her. The car she was traveling in was also much roomier than her Ford. The backseat that she lay sprawled across left her feeling only slightly cramped.
"You're awake?" a deep voice asked her.
Julie's gaze flickered toward the person she could just make out in the driver's seat. The figure never turned to check on her, but as she sat up slightly she could make out his direct gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"What happened?" she whispered, more to herself than to the man driving. She could remember only bits and pieces of the last few hours and the images all seemed to jumble themselves together into one big mess.
"You ran out into the middle of the road, I nearly hit you," the man answered obviously not understanding her question had been rhetorical.
Julie carefully cleared her throat and asked, "You're a cop? Right?"
Again, his gaze darted toward the rear-view as he met her own. It was too dark to tell what the color was but she couldn't help but take his straightforward manner as a good sign.
"I'm taking you to get help."
Judging by the pain in her shoulder, Julie had to admit, help was a good idea. As she eased back onto the black leather seat, she draped her good hand across her eyes and allowed the engine noise to soothe her panic.
"Can you tell me what happened?" the man asked at last breaking her reverie.
"Christine and I were-"
With a gasp, Julie sat up nearly vaulted over the bench seat as she scanned the front of the car for her friend. As she realized that Christine wasn't with her the last hour of her life caught up to her with horrifying clarity.
"Stop the car," she screamed the sound so loud she felt a stab of pain in her throat.
Given her position it was lucky for her that the driver didn't heed her panicked order. Instead of slamming on the breaks and consequently throwing her through the windshield, he slowed down gently and put the car in park.
"Calm down, you're safe now," he said his hands held up in a gesture of surrender.
"Christine! That monster's got my friend. You have to go back," Julie ordered without a hint of pleading. "Now!" she nearly screamed.
The man, whom she noticed couldn't be much older than herself, winced, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Calm down," he ordered.
"You don't understand, that freak's going to grind her up into hamburger, we have to go back."
Though she wasn't quite certain where the hamburger reference came into play, Julie knew that her sentiment was right. Christine was in trouble if she wasn't already... "Please, I need to go back."
888
Unsure of how much of the girl's babbling was reality and how much was a reaction to the thump she'd taken, Dean struggled to get a coherent answer out of the young woman. "Just calm down and tell me what you can."
Instead of replying to his question, the blonde lunged for the door handle and in her haste seemed unable to work out how to open it. Even more convinced that the knock on her head had jumbled her senses, Dean heaved a sigh and got out of the car.
Going to the door she was still trying to open, he opened the door and hunched down effectively blocking her exit.
"I have to go back. I have to help her," she whined.
At least, Dean thought wearily, she hadn't tried to force her way past him. Having to restrain the already freaked out girl was the last thing he wanted to do. "Listen, you have to stop and talk to me. I can't help your friend if I don't know what's going on."
His words seemed to have some effect as the girl latched onto his hand with her good one and pleaded, "You'll help her? You can help Christine?"
With no clue who Christine was, or even if she was, Dean couldn't honestly answer the question. However, he wasn't the king of bullshit for nothing. "I'll help you both, just calm down."
The girl seemed to take his pledge at face value. With a deep breath that ended in a gasp of pain, she cradled her arm to her chest and sat on the edge of the bench seat, her knees hanging out the door.
Dean remained where he was, crouched in front of the opening, and worked on keeping an eye on both the woods surrounding them and the girl's bruised visage. He hated leaving them both so exposed but until he could suss out what was going on, he doubted he could get the girl to sit quietly while he found a better location to hear her story.
"My name's Julie, my friend Christine and I were road tripping and we got lost," she started.
The hunter nodded, already hating the direction the story was taking. Two young women lost in the mountains of Kentucky was, for so many reasons, not good. "And then?" he asked encouraging her to continue.
"I was just so tired, we were trying to find Lovely, but..."
Here she trailed off as she swiped her sleeve across her nose and sniffed loudly.
Dean suppressed a grimace of disgust and fished inside his jean pocket for the bandana he kept on hand. "Here, it's clean," he offered.
Julie took the red and white cloth in her hands, but didn't apply it to her snotty nose. Instead, she began to twist the material as she continued, "We finally found a driveway. I told Chris it was a bad idea, but she insisted that we could at the least get directions or, if no one was up, park the car in the driveway."
"You went to a stranger's house?" Dean asked not bothering to disguise the disbelief he felt.
The girl flinched at his tone and nodded slightly. "I know. I know it was dumb. I was just so tired," Julie's voice ended in a wail as she sagged forward nearly throwing herself at Dean.
Despite knowing that she'd gotten herself into this mess, whatever kind of mess it was, through stupidity, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her and her friend. With an awkward pat to her shoulder, she really was leaking snot at an alarming rate, he pushed her back carefully and tugged the knotted handkerchief out of her hands.
Careful of the bruising, Dean used the cloth to sop up the majority of her tears. "Here, blow your nose and just spit out what happened."
The girl obeyed his command and with a few last hitching sobs finally seemed somewhat under control. Dean took the opportunity to cast his glance about the darkened road. The feeling of being watched had returned making him uneasy as he crouched low by the car.
At last she spoke, "He seemed so nice, not normal really, but nice. He didn't try an look down our shirts or grope us or anything."
Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes at the fact that the girl consigned people to the nice category simply because they hadn't tried for a free feel. "Okay, then what happened with this nice guy?"
"Um..." she sighed, "we asked if it'd be alright to spend the night in the car, in his driveway. The road's so narrow along here we were afraid to just pull over. We said goodnight and locked ourselves in the car. Next thing I know, I heard a slight scratching noise at the door. I looked over toward Christine and she was gone."
Now that they were at the meat of it, Dean was anxious for her to continue. "Go on."
"For a moment I thought maybe she'd gotten out to grab something from the trunk you know. Or to just stretch or something. Then I heard something click and suddenly the door I was leaning against just sort of fell away. I hit the blacktop hard, cracking the back of my head."
Again, Julie mopped at her face with the now soggy handkerchief. "I just stared up at him for a moment, neither of us moving. I think by falling out of the car, I surprised him as much as he surprised me."
He didn't doubt the guy had expected Julie to sleep through her abduction like her friend had. That extra minute or two of awareness had probably saved her.
"I just panicked. I kicked out with my feet catching him in the leg and he fell backward. I figured that'd be enough, after all he's old enough to be my grandfather. Instead...he...uh...jumped to his feet."
"Jumped?" Dean asked. Not many grandfathers that Dean knew could get off the ground that quick.
Julie's nod was loaded with meaning. "Jumped," she continued. "That's when I knew I was really in trouble. I scrambled to my feet and bolted, but he grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked me back. I hit the side of the car, hard, and nearly blacked out. Before I could move he was hitting me."
"How'd you get away?"
With a one sided shrug Julie said, "I'm not even sure. He'd grabbed my wrist and was just kinda reeling me toward him. I lunged and there was a popping sound, then this pain in my shoulder and I just freaked. I kicked out at him and I think I must have caught him because his grip loosened."
Dean had to give the girl credit, he'd suffered through the pain of a dislocated shoulder more than once, it was nothing to sneeze at. "So that's it? You took off and decided to try your luck at stopping two tons of Detroit steel?"
Julie nodded half-heartedly and wiped her eyes once more.
"Okay, well first things first, into the front seat. We have to find some help or at the very least a place to hole up."
"Christine?"
Dean met Julie's wide-eyed gaze and reassured her, "We'll find her. I promise."
What the hunter refused to promise was that they'd find the girl alive. He was sure the bastard who'd lost Julie had taken his anger out on her friend. As he tucked her into the front seat, with an old blanket he'd grabbed from the truck tucked around her shoulders, he sent a silent plea to the heavens that his dad realize sooner than later that something was wrong.
888
"Time's up! Pencil's down."
Sam gave the essay he'd written one last cursory glance, satisfied he'd aced the exam; he leaned back in his chair with a grin. He couldn't help but feel a bit self-satisfied as he watched a large number of his classmates frantically scribbling away despite Ms. Malcolm's orders. His early morning prep session in the school parking lot had obviously been worth the lack of sleep.
"Looking pretty smug there, Winchester,"
The sound of Jane Macintyre's sweet voice was enough to drive all thoughts of his recently finished test out of his head.
He couldn't help but feel surprised. Sam had sat next to the pretty redhead for the last two months and had never exchanged so much as a word with her. Then again, a voice he couldn't help but think of as his brother's pointed out, he hadn't managed so much as a coherent word to her either.
Tongue-tied wasn't something Dean had much sympathy for. His brother had never had an awkward moment in his life when it came to girls. With his lean build, good looks and rakish charm, girls and the occasional woman, flocked to him in droves.
Sam on the other hand, could never quite figure out what to say. His confidence wasn't helped by the fact that he'd grown nearly 5 inches this summer, leaving him feeling like he was all arms and legs. Not even the fact he'd lost the last of his baby fat with his latest growth spurt helped to make him feel less awkward.
John had smiled sympathetically at his clumsiness and had assured his youngest that he would get used to his newfound height sooner rather than later. Dean on the other hand, spent his time reenacting some of Sam's less graceful moments. The pratfalls were so accurately done that even their gruff-faced father had cracked a smile or two.
Suddenly self-conscience, Sam sat forward and glanced toward Jane. Her expectant blue-eyed gaze made it clear she was waiting for his reply. Trying to appear nonchalant, he smiled and gestured with his pencil. "I'm--"
Sam cut off his reply when the pencil he held slipped from his grip and landed with a clatter on the floor between him and Jane. Without thinking, the youngest Winchester dove for his trusty number two.
The tips of his fingers just slid along the edge of the pencil when something slammed into his forehead. With a cry of pain, he swept his hand up to his forehead and gingerly felt the spot that was already forming a good-sized lump. His eyes still watering in pain, Sam glanced toward Jane and groaned once more for good measure when he noted her hand prodding the ridge of her brow.
Confident he had now officially lost any chance he might have ever had with the redhead; he figured he might as well be honest. "Guess I bobbed when I should have weaved," he joked lamely.
Instead of completely blowing up at him, and really she had every right given the alarming way her eye was swelling, Jane surprised him by bursting into laughter. Eyes watering with mirth, or perhaps pain, Sam really wasn't sure which, she rocked back in her seat and continued to giggle helplessly.
Somewhat alarmed that she was bordering on hysteria, Sam questioned, "You okay?"
Gulping down her laughter, the blue-eyed girl nodded and gently touched the growing bruise that was already beginning to show given her pale skin. "Think so. How's it look?"
Sam couldn't help but wince as he held out a hand and made a see-saw gesture. "Honestly? Not good."
Jane's laughter trilled across the noisy classroom once more as she began to root around in the purse that hung on her chair. As she drew out a small round mirror she winked with her good eye and said, "I'm sure it's not that-"
Her squeal of horror was nothing if not genuine. "Oh, my god," she wailed as she took in her now swollen brow and purple eye.
Desperate to make a bad situation better, Sam blurted out, "Why don't I walk you to the nurse? Some ice'll help."
Jane pulled her gaze from her reflection and nodded in Sam's direction. "It will?"
Experience had him nodding firmly. "Definitely."
Obviously, in a hurry to stop the swelling, Jane popped up and began gathering her books. Sam jumped out of his own seat and grabbed his own things. Slinging his backpack on, he stepped around his chair and reached for Jane's books just as she dipped forward to pick up the stack.
Lucky for them, Sam was able to pull back at the last minute avoiding yet another crash. Ready to just give up before he managed to give the girl a concussion. Sam backed up a step and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Jane, however, seemed unfazed by his attempts to end her life. With a rueful grin, she handed him the stack of books and preceded him down the aisle.
Feeling more at ease than he had in months, he happily followed her lead. As she smooth talked their way past Ms. Malcolm he couldn't help but feel as if for once he'd gotten the better deal than his brother.
Right now, poor Dean was probably hotfooting it through some forest while John barked orders. He had no doubt if given the choice between a pretty girl and camping, Dean'd pick the girl every time. Not even the prospect of shooting something could make his brother enjoy the outdoors.
Happy for once to be one up on Dean, Sam couldn't wait to rub salt in his brother's misery. Exchanging thoughts of his brother for the pretty girl at his side, Sam followed her out of third period class.
888
Sam waved one last time to Julie as she pulled out of the driveway in her red Subaru. Without the aid of the porch light, or even a decent bit of moonlight, it took a moment for him to get the door unlocked. Just as he managed to slip the key in its hole, he heard the telephone inside start to ring. With a grimace, he got the door open and entered the house.
A ringing phone always left him with a feeling of dread. Too many times, he'd answered only to have emergency personnel, or worse yet Bobby, telling him that his dad or his brother had been injured.
Not to mention those oh so fun calls from the local electric company threatening to cut their power if they didn't receive payment. Either way, answering the phone was always a chore.
With a deep breath, he grabbed the heandset before it could start its fifth ring. "Hello?"
"Sam! What the hell is going on? You and that smart-mouth brother of yours are supposed to be standing in front of me. Not in frickin' West Virginia answering the goddamn phone."
At that first familiar 'Sam', he'd had enough sense to pull the phone slightly away from his ear so the sound of his father's outrage didn't permanently destroy his hearing. Once his old man had wound down, he returned the phone to his ear and asked, "Didn't Dean tell you? I had exams this week."
Sam couldn't believe that his brother hadn't defended him after promising. Though, he had to admit, getting bitched out by his father over the phone was much preferred to one of John's heart to hearts.
At Sam's words, he could hear his father draw in a deep breath. The shaggy-haired youth could picture John, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to rein in his temper.
"I'll ask your brother to explain just as soon as you tell me where the hell he is."
This time his father's words echoed loud and clear. In fact, they were bouncing inside of Sam's head like a ping-pong ball. "Dean's with you," Sam asserted, as he vaguely hoped his father was caught in the throws of some kind of alcoholic confusion.
"No, Sam, he's not."
TBC