Well, this is awkward, Sam thought. What am I supposed to do here with a rag-tag group of soldiers while Dean's off 'finding out more about what's going on' with Max, or more likely, trying to get laid?
He perused the not-so-bloody battlefield again and watched as Zack seemed to float from group to group. He inferred the stereotypically surfer-looking guy was probably the leader of this militant group. At least that was he vibe he seemed to be getting.
Sam took a chance and walked over to him. "Anything I can help with?"
Zack turned toward the too-eager-for-a-stranger Sam. "Not really. We're just patching up our wounded." He paused and checked out Sam's jacket pockets, eying the bulges suspiciously. "Unless you have some rags or gauze in there."
Sam looked down, removed his hands from his pockets, and held out the pockets' contents. "No, just these," he said. He had a set of keys, a Swiss Army knife, a few dollars, and a peppermint.
Zack squinted at the items and found himself playing the supermarket game he and the other checkers had played in the small farm town. What would Sam need with those things, and how could he put them together to create a story?
Something occurred to him. "Didn't you have another blade when you showed up – out of nowhere?"
Sam detected a note of sarcasm in his voice. And why is he asking about my weapons? "Yeah," he said, replacing the items back into their pockets. "In my boot."
Sam followed Zack to a couple of seated soldiers in the back of a jeep. One, a dark-auburn-haired and scantily-clad woman, seemed to be stitching up the lacerated leg of a bald young man.
"Everything okay?" asked Zack.
"Yes," the young woman said, looking up a moment. She saw Sam and immediately smiled flirtatiously. "Who's your friend?"
Zack laughed and gestured to Sam. "Winchester," he said.
Sam thought it odd to have someone introduce another by their last name only. He lunged forward with an open hand, ready to shake hers. "Sam," he added.
"Mona," she said – and was it just him or did she kind of moan her name when she said it? – and nodding to her bloodied hands, added, "I'd shake your hand, but I'm elbow deep in Drew, here. Rain check for tonight?" She winked.
Sam laughed nervously and Zack pulled him by the arm. "Come on," he said, "she's got this." He led Sam through a group of soldiers huddled beneath a few trees, trying to catch some sleep. Eventually, Sam caught sight of a beautiful brunette, encircled by a group of kids. He didn't remember seeing those kids when he and Dean crested the hill.
"Gwen!" Zack called out.
She saw him out of the corner of her eye and motioned for the kids to stay put. She jogged over to the tall men.
"Where'd those kids come from?" Zack asked.
"Found them hiding in a locked, abandoned car just over the hill," she said. She snuck a glance at Sam and turned back to Zack. "I'm gonna teach them the drills. You seen Drew?"
"Gettin' his leg sewn back on," Zack overdramatized.
"Drills?" Sam asked. Stupid question, he realized. The Croatoan virus had hit and there were barely any children who hadn't been killed. They were the most susceptible because of their lack of knowledge of how to protect themselves or survive on their own.
"Self defense, escape and evade," Gwen said, looking up to him.
She sort of reminded him of Xena, her light blue eyes shining up from under her dark hair. But she was more petite, and she just had this glow about her. She was pretty, he realized. Graceful in a way.
"And you needed Drew," Zack trailed, hoping Sam would take the bait.
Which he did.
"I can help," Sam offered.
Gwen smiled and sized him up. She didn't usually go for tall guys, but she might make an exception.
"Yeah, you know, if you don't mind a Jolly Green Giant – slash – Sasquatch half-breed," Zack said under his breath, but loud enough for both of them to hear. He turned to leave.
This guy definitely shares some of Dean's awesome qualities, Sam thought. As if one Dean isn't enough.
"Gwen," she said, extending her hand.
"Sam," he responded, shaking her hand firmly, but not too firm.
She motioned toward the kids. "I just want to help them survive. Give them a fighting chance."
"How do you want to do this?" he asked, slipping off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. "Spar?"
Gwen almost licked her lips at the sight of him – such toned arms, but still built lean. She wondered if he was Manticore. He sure didn't look it, but it would be easy enough to figure out. "Um, just attack me, I guess."
She noted the hesitancy in his glance. "I got skills, don't worry. I can defend myself."
Did she just slink like a cat? He was pretty sure she did. He cleared his throat.
Gwen and Sam stepped into the middle of the circle. "Pay attention little ones. This is Sam."
Sam waved gingerly, as if he'd never spoken to a child before. He was unsure of how all of this was going to go, but he didn't want to scare the kids, and he didn't want to overshadow Gwen.
"He's going to attack me and I'll show you how to defend yourself if you ever need to incapacitate someone so you can get away." Gwen nodded to Sam and motioned for him to step forward and attack.
Incapacitate? Why is it when she says it, it sounds so final?
With no idea of what she knew how to do or how well she could fight, Sam swung at her, light on his feet and ready to dodge her if he missed and she swung back.
Apparently, he wasn't as ready as he thought, since he found himself on his back, straddled by the brunette, who seemed unusually strong for her size. She was holding him down by the throat, and said to the kids, "This maneuver utilizes my strength in combination with his movement, and how he is completely at my mercy."
You have no idea, Sam thought, staring up at her.
Gwen stood up and offered him a helping hand up, which he took. "Now, come at me from behind," she ordered.
Okay, so she's fast with reaction time. So all I need to do is fake left and go right, in a manner of speaking.
Sam stepped behind her and started to put his arms around her as if to hold her arms down, then at the last second, dropped to a squat and swept his leg forward and under hers. This caused her to fall sideways to the ground.
Gwen caught the fall with her hands as Sam stood and offered his hand to her. Taking his hand, she stood. "So that was a good example of how your enemy might strategize. That's why it helps to always be ready to improvise, because an enemy might be smart or have discovered your moves."
The kids seemed surprised that this was part of the 'lesson,' but Gwen had an almost embarrassed look on her face.
Maybe I shouldn't have done that, he told himself, recognizing the glare she gave him as the type of polite stare one might give another when supremely pissed off at them.
Gwen circled around him. "And that's why you gotta be smarter, faster, better at improvising. You need to anticipate his moves and know his defenses. Use them against him. Use your abilities, but know your own limitations – because he sure will."
Sam felt as though he was being scrutinized, as if she was preying on him, planning her attack. She circled him like a wide lasso, slowly tightening. He regretted his previous maneuver now that it seemed she was coming after him.
"Your greatest weapon," she began, the wide-eyed children watching her intently. Before she uttered another syllable, she threw her weight into her leg and roundhouse-kicked Sam in the side, sending him to his right. She then dropped to a squat and swept under his already-falling body, successfully kicking his legs out from underneath him.
Sam hit the grass with a barely-heard thud and watched Gwen turn back to the children. "Is surprise," she finished. She beamed happily at her success.
A few of the kids smiled as Sam grumbled and got to his feet. Though she had made her point, he saw her leg muscles twitch, as if she was about to roundhouse him again. He prepared to defend against the kick, but in what appeared to be an impossibly quick movement, Gwen snapped to face him, sending some force through her fist and into his face.
Sam stumbled backward but caught his balance. He thought he'd been a good enough sport and really didn't want to fight her. What was with this chick?
"Holding back, Winchester?" she teased, he fist coming at him again.
He dodged her punch and lunged past her. Before he realized what was happening, she had punched him in the side. Hard.
Sam squinted angrily and spun to face her, arms and fist held up defensively.
Gwen mirrored his stance and stepped closer. She faked right and swung a hard left cross. Sam ducked under it and when he bobbed back up, he was throwing an uppercut her direction.
Gwen blocked it and prepared to sweep his legs again. This time, Sam saw it coming and hopped over her leg. He backed up a step.
This sparring continued for another few minutes, each matching the other's blows and defenses, until Sam was starting to tire and breathe a little harder. But Gwen seemed like she was getting stronger and faster. It didn't make sense to him.
She finally landed a punch on his right ear, and he went down. He lay on the ground, staring up dizzily toward the sky.
Gwen moved into sight. "You alright?" she asked, hands on her hips and barely out of breath.
Sam sat up and raised his hand to his ear. When he brought it back down, he noticed the blood.
Surprised, Gwen squatted, grabbed his chin with one hand and turned his head so she could see the injury. "Sorry about that," she said smiling. "I was just trying to get your heart racing and get you all sweaty." She smiled coyly.
Sam gave her that polite but angry smile, despite the pain he felt from what he assumed to be a partially ruptured ear drum. Is this how these people flirt?
Gwen turned to the kids. "Go ahead and practice."
As the kids paired up and began sparring, Sam couldn't help but notice that some of them had barcodes on their necks.
Suspicious.