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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
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A Wandering Boy
Chapter 15
Taking Jerry Down
From Chapter 14
He became impatient when the boys didn't appear and he started the truck and drove towards the school. As he turned to cruise in front he saw the boys getting onto a big, dark mean-looking muscle car. The boys all climbed in to the back as there were two men in front.
If Jerry had a gun he would have shot the driver and tried to take the kids. As he drove slowly by the car glaring at the men he noticed that the guy in the passenger seat was staring at him. Even from the distance of six or more feet he could see the incredible color of the man's eyes. There were an intense clear blue and seemed to pierce him to his soul. He turned his head away concerned that the guy would read his intentions on his face.
Jerry hit the gas and drove back to the bus stop. He knew he had lost the prize. It was more pain than he could stand and right then he decided that he simply could not wait any longer. He might not have been able to win his prize but there were other sweet pieces of unguarded flesh walking the streets. Passing a clump of young boys he pulled to the end of the block and pushed the dog out the door. This was it. Whoever picked up that dog would take the place of his lost prize. He couldn't bear the tension one more minute.
Chapter 15
"Sam," Castiel exclaimed. "That was the man. Follow him. He means to take someone else now."
"Are you sure?" Sam stared at the Angel.
Castiel stared back, almost daring the Hunter to not obey. "Go Sam. I assure you that I know his intention. The man is projecting pain, lust and desire. Some child will die if you do not intervene immediately."
That was it. Sam obeyed and swung the Impala around in a U-turn, squealing tires piercing the late afternoon babble of children's voices. The white pick-up disappeared around the corner almost clipping a group of children crossing the street. As Sam pulled up another large group of kids blocked his path. This was the way to the bus stop and a lot of children walked these streets.
"Damn," Sam yelled as he had to stop. The white truck was getting away.
Sam finally was able to push the car through in a break between groups of children. Looking in his rear view mirror he realized that right behind him was one of Jody's cruisers. He nudged his way forward through the crowd. A lot of the kids resented it and yelled or pounded on the sides of the car. A middle aged female crossing guard didn't like it either and she was steaming forward waving her sign aggressively.
The cop behind them grasped what was going on and hit his siren. The loud noise scared the children and the crossing guard. Once everyone stopped moving Sam tried to get through the last of the crowd but people had frozen in his way and he couldn't get through the last of them without knocking them down. Castiel decided to lend a hand and, stepping out of the car, he started moving children physically out of the way. Once Sam had a clear path he pulled up and waited for the Angel to get back in the car. Finally they were able to take off in pursuit of the truck.
About to turn the corner Sam looked into his mirror and saw that the police cruiser was almost clear also. The cop had shut the continual siren down and was now just using short burst to get the children out of his way. Finally the crossing guard understood what was happening and she started to help the cop get clear.
Sam was driving toward the bus stop now and there were dozens of children headed in the same direction. Most of them were in groups but here and there were children walking alone.
"I see him, Sam," Castiel pointed ahead. "He's at the end of the next block."
Sam looked forward. To his horror he saw that the passenger door was open. A small child was attempting to lift a wiggling puppy on to the seat. At that very instant a man's arm reached out and picked up the child by the back of his jacket. The door slammed, dog forgotten on the sidewalk, and the truck sped away with the child trapped inside.
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Jerry Bader's sweating hands slipped on the wheel. This wasn't good. This wasn't the way he wanted it to go. He had heard the cop car's siren back at the school and his heart had jumped in his throat. No, not now. They couldn't stop him now when he was so close. He glared into the rear view mirror and there wasn't anybody there. He had no idea where the black car went or why the cop wasn't behind him already but his only thought was saving the plan
He scurried down Oak towards the bus stop jerking the wheel back and forth trying to find another prize, trying to look for the best choice today. His green eyed boy had been taken away but he'd find someone else. There had to be someone else.
He drove past a group of about five little boys and one of them, in a bright blue jacket, attracted his attention. Just like the prize blue boy was out in front. He was laughing and walking backwards, talking to his friends. The kid was almost dancing into Jerry's world. Jerry pulled the truck into the crosswalk at the end of the block, jerked the handle to open the passenger door and pushed the yelping puppy out into the street.
It was a long drop for a little dog and the puppy yelped more loudly as it hit the pavement. Of course, it attracted the little boys' attention and blue boy ran ahead. The kid bent down to pick up the pup and Jerry smiled at him.
"Thanks for helping my puppy, son," the man said. "He fell out when the door came open. Can you hand him back to me?"
The little one smiled, a missing front tooth adding childish charm to his face and the little arms tried so hard to push the puppy up. Jerry leaned forward as if he was going to take the puppy but instead grabbed the kid's coat and dragged the little body into the truck. He grabbed the handle and slammed the door at the same time he hit the gas. The truck fish-tailed with the torque and Jerry was on his way.
The little boy was in a panic. He tried to pull up the handle on the door but before he could make any progress Jerry reached over the seat and grabbed the collar of the kid's jacket. Wrapping his arm around the wriggling and screaming child he powered his way along the suburban streets. Jerry knew exactly where he was going and he knew the only way he was going to win was speed and stealth.
At an intersection he cut a hard right and sped down a dim tree-lined street. It would take a little longer but he could get to the motel from here and maybe they wouldn't know where he went.
The child was crying, screaming and trying to push Jerry's arm away. This wasn't what Jerry had dreamed. He wanted the child to stay as innocent as possible until they were completely alone. With each mile this child's innocence was being stripped away. Jerry wanted to strip that innocence away with his tongue; he wanted to taste the sweetest tears and stifle the screams with his mouth.
The mere thought of the child's suffering to come made Jerry's mouth water. His shriveled, dead cinder of a soul stirred within him, revived by tears. Jerry was dead inside, had always been dead inside. His soul had never grown and the emptiness cried out to be filled with emotion. He knew nothing of love or hope. He was a vessel for lust and the death of innocence. More demon than man, he had never felt pity for any of his victims, human or beast.
He burst out of the suburban side street on to a divided highway that would take him straight to the abandoned motel in minutes. He couldn't see anyone behind him and he began to believe that he had escaped. When the child whimpered he simply dragged the little boy closer to his side and put a hand over the boy's mouth and nose. Now the child could not even breathe until Jerry decided to let him. The casual torture was like an appetizer to the main course yet to be served.
The little thrill of control distracted Jerry's attention and he didn't even notice when that black beast of a car blasted out of the side street and came after him. The first time he was aware was when it pulled up beside him and roared past. Once again the cold blue eyes of the man in the passenger seat drilled into the side of Jerry's face. Fear punched its way in to Jerry's consciousness and he involuntarily let go of the little boy to put both hands on the steering wheel. The black behemoth did more than just pass him: it swerved into his lane and Jerry stood on the brakes.
Blue boy was thrown off the seat under the dashboard of the truck and Jerry pawed for him at the same time he was stunned by the speed with which the black car's driver's door flew open and a giant of an angry man charged at him.
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Sam Winchester had followed Castiel's instructions perfectly. When the Angel said 'turn here' he obeyed immediately, without question. The kids in the backseat were in a riot but Sam blocked their noise away. The only thing he heard was Castiel's voice.
When they flew out of the neighborhood and emerged on a county highway Sam was excited to see the back end of the white truck disappear over a slight rise only a couple of hundred yards in front of him. The Impala squealed as he braked, turned and straighten in pursuit. The Impala roared and accelerated, knocking Dean and his friends back in their seats.
Sam caught up to the truck in what felt like agonizing slow motion but it was done and the Hunter swerved into the path of the oncoming truck. Later on he would realize that he was throwing the kids in his keeping into danger but in the moment he was sure this was the right thing to do.
The truck braked and the smoke from its stripped tires mixed with the smoke from the Impala's own rubber to create an illusion of swiftly dispersing fog.
Sam threw himself out of the Impala while it was still moving forward, without even stopping to turn the car off; he had slammed the car into park and launched his body at the white truck. He couldn't see the little boy but he clearly saw the monster behind the wheel.
Sam reached through the man's window and grabbed his throat. With the other hand he pulled the door open, coming close to smacking himself in the face. He stopped trying to pull the guy out through the window and changed hands, pulling the man out on to the ground. Holding on to the front of his shirt Sam threw punch after punch at the man's head. Blood flew.
Evidently Castiel had followed immediately after Sam because after about five or six punches the Angel stopped Sam's arm. Jerry Bader was only semi-conscious and bleeding freely from his mouth and nose. Sam snapped his head around and looked at Castiel. The Angel was holding the little boy in his other arm. He handed the child off to Sam.
Castiel knelt next to the man on the ground and thrust out his arm. The Angel's fingers extended and grasped the top of the man's head. As Sam watched a pure white light began to pour from the man's eyes and mouth but just then Jody's cop caught up and yelled at Sam. "Step away from the truck." The policeman had his gun out and was pointing it at Castiel.
Now it was Sam's turn to try and pulled Castiel away from the child molester. Castiel looked around angrily, not expecting to be interrupted by anyone when he was in the middle of the well-deserved smiting of a monster.
"Castiel," Sam said. "The patrolman's here. Please stop."
Castiel pulled away from Jerry Bader's unconscious form. The man was still breathing. That was a surprise but Castiel had never seen an unfinished smiting before. He didn't know the consequences.
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The other consequence that neither Castiel nor Sam expected was that of being a couple of heroes. After Jody's patrolman had checked Jerry and called an ambulance the next thing that showed up was Sioux Falls own T.V. station KLOS live news van. The van showed up at the scene before the ambulance. Sam never cared enough to find out who had alerted the news, one of Jody's cops or someone from the school
The kidnaping and recovery of a small child was going to be the biggest news item on Sioux Falls T.V. that night and when the interviewer got a look at muscular, tall and handsome Sam Winchester standing in the road next to his dark haired, blue eyed, just as handsome 'partner' visions of National Converge danced in her head.
When Sam's completely adorable son, Dean, popped out of his Dad's car, trailed by his little gang of friends it was almost too good to be real. She was close to hyperventilating and that would be extremely unprofessional. With her director back at the station yelling orders into her ear she headed straight for the heroes.
Her camera man, after months of filming county meetings and livestock shows hardly knew what to focus on first. He had his choice of the supposed child molester out cold on the ground, the arrival of the ambulance, the handsome heroes, the photogenic little boy victim who was still in Sam Winchester's arms or Sam's excitable son who was a smiling little charmer.
With the woman babbling at him and asking rapid fire questions Sam was beginning to freak. More police cruisers appeared out of thin air and the final cherry on the T.V. interviewer's cake was the arrival of the little kidnap victim's panicked parents.
Sam found out in short order that he had rescued Ronnie Youngman and Mr. and Mrs. Youngman were really grateful. Mrs. Youngman almost tried to climb him to kiss his cheek and Mr. Youngman pumped his hand so hard he felt like the man was trying to raise water. He handed Ronne to his mother and managed to disentangle himself from Mr. Youngman's over enthusiastic grasp.
Castiel touched Sam's free arm and the tall man leaned down to the Angel's lips so he could hear what the Angel had to say.
"I think we should get out of here as soon as possible, Sam." Castiel whispered although there was no need. With the amount of noise and activity in the general area he could have shouted. "This is turning in to a public spectacle. I think we should all leave."
Sam nodded and tried to gather his group together and get them back in the car. Unfortunately, in spite of his efforts, one of the patrol cars opened to disclose Sheriff Mills.
"Mr. Winchester," she called out. "Please wait."
"We are going to need to take your statement and your partner's statement regarding the incident." She said. "I also believe that you are the source of the warning we received from Bobby Singer about a potential child molester stalking the school. We really need to talk to you." She looked around at the impromptu circus that had formed around the area.
"I think it would be best for you to come down to the station as soon as possible."
Sam glanced over at Castiel and then back at the Sheriff. "We can come down in the morning, Sheriff," he answered then looked back at Castiel. "Would that work for us Cas?"
Castiel reached for Sam's arm again. 'I believe that would be fine, but right now we need to get all the children home."
The T.V. interviewer had been distracted by Mr. and Mrs. Youngman's emotional scene and while dragging all the emotional juice she could get out of the family's reunion she almost missed the Winchester's departure. Sam was already turning the engine over when the thin blonde dashed over and locked her hand on the door.
"Mr. Winchester," she gasped. "My station would love to interview you and Mr. Castiel about this incredible rescue. When can you come in to be interviewed?" she shoved her business card at Sam. "I mean on air, of course. You understand that, right?" She turned on her full power smile, the one she used every morning on the news show.
Sam stared at her, shocked silent. Castiel leaned over Sam's body, a possessive hand wrapped around Sam's shoulders. "Just let us give you a call about that, already Miss…,Powers," he finished, glancing at the glossy business card.
"Don't forget about us," she gushed with just the edge of a shark's grin behind her words. "I'll come looking for you."
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Later that night, in the jail ward of Sioux Falls General Hospital, Jerry Bader drew his last breath. He never regained consciousness after Castiel's interrupted smiting. He died alone; his mother did not even come to say good bye. He died as he lived, unloved and unmourned.
Later, at autopsy, the coroner would find evidence of a damaged heart. The coroner believed it looked as if Jerry had been electrocuted. Beside the heart, other organs also had damage that looked like burns. If the coroner had known he could have achieve fame as the first to autopsy an Angel smiting. Of course, that thought wasn't even in the realm of the possible. It was ridiculous. Of only one thing the coroner was sure. Jerry Bader did not die as a result of Sam Winchester hitting him in the face.
Jerry's soul initially felt abandoned and lost. It drifted slowly though empty rooms and deep silence. It wasn't left to wonder long however. In the distance a sound of howling broke the silence. A shiver passed through the sprit. It couldn't be attributed to cold. There was no cold or heat any more. There was only the grey, sifting silence of a curtain lifting slowly to reveal the stark face of fear.
Cerberus had sent out members of his pack to drag Jerry's soul to the river. One would have been enough. Jerry 's soul was a weak and pitiful thing, already half way to demon, not even enough to be a hellhound's chew toy, let alone any kind of a meal.
They dragged the feeble thing to hell and handed it over to the gatekeepers to decide what circle should hold it for eternity. Jerry was useless, not even material for the weakest of demons. He was only good for unending torment and providing more music for the pit.
The first circle to be considered was the Second Circle of hell, the one for Lust. In this circle the empty souls are blown back and forth forever by violent winds. Those souls were governed by their lust without thought or meaning, empty shells. In the end it is decided that this punishment was too mild for such as Jerry Bader.
It is settled that Jerry belongs to the Minotaur, guardian of the Outer Ring of the Seventh Circle of Hell, the circle reserved for the violent. These souls spend their eternity immersed in the Phlegethon, a boiling river of blood and fire. There he would stay until perhaps he repented enough of his sins to pass to Purgatory, an unlikely event as his soul was too shriveled to even know what repentance and guilt were, let alone learn to use them to progress hoping one day for forgiveness He would stay to the end of the world, when he would be judged and raised or destroyed utterly. As the King of Hell has said; "This is hell, that's what you do in hell. You wait".