Chapter 16
"Dean, look out!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs. He scrambled to the edge of the cliff, looking on in horror as the huge lizard made a bee line for his brother. He'd thought for sure that he was done for as soon as he had laid eyes on the gigantic winged dinosaur, but the thing had passed him by, dove straight over the edge of the cliff, and now it was headed straight for Dean.
Dean heard his brother's warning a second too late. He had been watching the advancing lava, as Andrea slowly made her way up the vine. The river of molten rock was now coming through the T-Rex skulls, and still flowing strong. His head snapped up and around at Sam's call, only to have his vision blocked by a field of leathery skin, and sharp talons.
He ducked, sure that he would end up as lunch for the very un-extinct creature, and was greeted by the sound of ripping leather as its giant claws shredded his jacket, mere centimetres from his skin. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't dead, as he heard Sam call out frantically that the beast was circling around. He rolled towards the cliff, in an attempt to make it as difficult as possible for the thing to get at him.
It screeched angrily, an awful sound that reminded Dean of a blender full of rusty nails. He cupped his hands over his ears, trying to block the sound of it. He kept his eyes on it as it circled, looking for a way to get to him. Andrea had finally reached the top of the cliff, and Sam helped her over.
"My God, I thought I was a goner." She breathed.
"We've got to help him!" Sam exclaimed, still peering over the edge at his crouching sibling.
The dinosaur landed with enough force to form a cloud of dust around itself. It seemed completely uninterested in the advancing lava. It crawled menacingly toward the hunter at the bottom of the cliff, a primeval hunger glinting brightly in its emerald green eyes…an ironic contrast to the fear that was clouding its prey's eyes of the same color.
Dean did his best to look for a way out, or something to throw, or anything to do except sit and wait for the inevitable, but there was nothing. He was stuck, wedged between a cliff face, and a hungry beast ten times his size…not to mention the still advancing river of lava. He could already feel the heat from it as it continued to ooze forward. The giant bat-like lizard growled deep in its throat, its beak clacking together hungrily.
Sam had had enough of watching, it was time for some action. He looked around frantically for something to throw down to Dean, or to drop on the creature. They were surrounded by thick forest that mirrored the other side of the valley, but it would take too much time to go searching for something in it. He needed something immediately. He glanced down again, fear causing him to tremble as he saw the beast advancing, with the lava behind it.
Andrea sat on the ground, content to feel happy that she had not been the one to get eaten.
"Andrea, help me find something…quick!" He said frantically.
"Oh, right." She said nonchalantly, not seeming to realize just how much danger the older hunter was in, and looked around her spot on the ground. Sam didn't have time to get angry with her, because if he had, he would have laid her out. But right now, he had to move.
His frantic searching yielded a set of five rocks, a few small sticks, and a rather sturdy tree limb that had broken off at a sharp angle…good enough for a spear. It would have to be good enough. He ran back to the edge of the cliff, sliding to a halt. He crouched low aiming at the creature's head. He threw a stone. It bounced off of the creatures skull, making it pause in its advance. He threw another, and another, this time shouting at the beast. He threw a few sticks…anything to get its attention.
"Are you nuts?" Andrea screeched, once she realized what he was doing. "Don't draw that thing up here!"
Sam completely ignored her, throwing his fourth stone. Finally he had its attention. Dean was yelling for him to stop, but he would be darned if he was going to just sit by and watch his brother die right in front of him.
The creature glared at the menace that was interrupting his lunch plans. "Andrea, throw the spear to Dean, while I've got its attention!" Sam shouted, without turning.
Andrea grabbed the spear, but instead of tossing it down to Dean, she turned and pointed it at Sam, "Yeah, I don't think so." Her voice had changing instantly to a dark tone Sam had not heard before.
"What? What are you doing? Throw the spear to Dean, now!" Sam shouted desperately. This was his one chance to save Dean, and it was slipping away. The lava was so close now that Dean was having a hard time breathing, and the Pterodactyl was quickly losing interest in what was going on above it.
"Sorry Sam, but I've got other plans." She spat out his name like it was a curse. His eyes pleaded with her. "What? You really thought I had forgotten everything?" She said, "I planned all this, you freaking hunter scum, it's time you just gave up and died already."
'No, this can't be happening…' Sam's thoughts were in a complete jumble. 'Of all the times for her to regain her memory, why now?'
"Andrea please!" Sam pleaded again, hoping that something would change in her. She laughed, a cackle that could have put a thousand-year-old witch to shame.
'No, not now…not like this.' Sam thought desperately.
At that moment, he heard Dean call out his name. It wasn't his brother's normally strong, commanding tone. No, this was a plea for help. A cry of desperation from someone in serious need of assistance. It was the cry of one man to the person he loved most in the world, because he was about to die.
And that was the last straw.
Something snapped in Sam. It happened all at once, and so fast that Sam couldn't remember what actually happened later. He hurled the last remaining stone, not at the giant beast on the ground, but at Andrea. He threw it with every last ounce of strength he possessed. It wasn't out of anger, he was way past angry. This force was out of pure, unchecked, calculated rage.
Fury beyond what humans should be capable of. This force came from an innermost part of Sam that he never realized existed, a part that had never been seen before by human eyes.
And the only eyes that saw it belonged to a dead woman.
As soon as the stone struck, Sam knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was dead. Were it not for her incredibly thick skull, Andrea would have had a hole completely through her forehead, but as it was, the rock only made it half way.
But that was enough.
She fell like a sack of potatoes, and Sam leapt forward, grabbing the spear from her lifeless hands before she had a chance to hit the ground. Without even thinking about what had just transpired, Sam turned on a dime and hurled the spear with equal, if not greater force than the rock had encountered.
It struck deep and true. A bulls-eye through the beasts heart.
Sam ran to the edge of the cliff, "Dean, climb the vine!" But his brother did not respond. Dean sat sprawled at the cliff base, barely able to breathe for the heat. The lava was close enough to begin burning the corpse of the Pterodactyl, and to start melting the soles of Dean's shoes.
"Dean! DEAN!" Sam yelled as loud as he could, although his voice would not carry over the bubbling roar of the molten river. Something welled inside of Sam…something he'd only felt once or twice before. He knew what was coming. This time, he didn't fight it.
There was a bright flash, and immediately, Sam could see the lava building up on itself. No longer was it advancing, but rather it began to pile on top of itself, as though an invisible wall had been set between Dean, and the lava. It continued to flow, but now it was in a vertical fashion, creating literally, a wall of lava less than fifteen feet from where Dean sat. Sam knew he was doing it…somehow. He didn't know how. He didn't care. All that mattered was that Dean was still alive.
Sam grabbed the vine, still concentrating on keeping the lava from reaching Dean. He shimmied down the cliff face in record time. He too could feel the heat rising from the molten rock, but was too busy hauling Dean back up the rope, firemen style, to care much.
When he reached the top, he let Dean's body topple from his shoulder onto the ground, crawling to lie beside him. He checked Dean's pulse. It was there, and that was enough.
And then, darkness engulfed him before he had a chance to realize it.
When the earthquake came, Bobby was in the middle of trying to keep his eyes in their sockets.
After finding that there were no other unlocked doors, rather than chance the elevator again, he decided to try his chances in the bird room once more. He had entered, expecting to see birdie corpses around the door, where they had surely broken their necks trying to get to him earlier.
He was wrong.
Every last bird in the place, and then some, was still well, alive, and kicking. Well okay, pecking…and squawking, and doing everything else they could to drive Bobby insane.
They did not attack him, as he had expected, but rather, were content to keep him from finding anything of use in the whole blasted room. He had tried drawers, and closets, and everything else he could think of to find a clue to breaking the illusion, but had come up decidedly empty. Especially since the birds would become hostile whenever he would even attempt to open the drawers and closets and such. It was a real headache.
But suddenly, the pecking and squawking stopped, as all his avian buddies became rather still. Almost as if they were listening to something. And then the room began to shake.
Suddenly the ground was no longer stable, and the birds were panicked, flying every which way in simple crazed hysteria.
Bobby moved to a central doorway, where he braced himself against the frame. Mirrors fell off the walls and shattered. Lamps broke into pieces. The lights flickered. All the normal things you might expect in an ordinary earthquake began to happen.
Except this was no ordinary earthquake, because then the walls began to shimmer and warp. The floor began to undulate, like the muscles beneath a snake's skin as it moves. The ceiling began to swirl around, like a vortex.
"Oh, that's never good." Bobby muttered, still hanging on for dear life.
Now, Bobby knew from experience, that whenever you were dealing with the evil side of the supernatural realm, things never ever go the way they are supposed to. It's the same principle as the ignorant pirate that thinks "x" really does mark the spot. It just never happens that way.
However, on this day, Bobby found a new respect for the phrase "once in a blue moon".
On this day, the vortex on the ceiling yielded an unexpected turn of events. Because, on this day, "x" really did mark the spot. And the spot happened to be about two feet from where Bobby stood, onto which the vortex dumped two twenty-something boys, whom just happened to be Sam and Dean Winchester. At the same time, every bird in the room went screeching into the vortex and were swallowed by it.
The earthquake ended, the vortex disappeared, and there they were. The very two that he had been searching for this whole time, dumped, unconscious, literally at his feet.
He knelt quickly to make sure they were still alive. He turned Sam over, who had been lying on his stomach. There was a small trickle of blood coming from his nose, and Bobby found the large bruise on his side, indicating the injured ribs underneath. Other than that the youngest Winchester seemed to be fine.
Next, he turned his attention to the older hunter. He placed his fingers on Dean's neck, and then immediately jerked them away. "Good Lord, Dean! You're burnin' up, son." He said. He carefully rolled the unconscious hunter onto his side, and gasped as he encountered three 12 inch long gashes down the back of his jacket.
It looked like it had been done by an impossibly large animal of some kind. Bobby was relieved to find no blood seeping through the torn material, and could find no other injuries on the man except for minor scrapes and bruises.
"Sam! Dean! Come on, you two, wake up!" He called, shaking them by their shoulders.
Dean groaned, muttering something about burning alive. Bobby knit his eyebrows together, looking up to where the hotel bathroom was situated. He quickly got up and ran into the bathroom, soaking a wash cloth in cold water. He returned as fast as he could, and placed the cloth on Dean's forehead. Dean shied away from it to begin with, but soon accepted the ministration. He groaned again and blinked open his eyes. He looked around in confusion, before finally registering who it was that knelt over him.
"Bobby, 's that you?" He said, sounding fearful, as though afraid that his eyes were tricking him…again.
"Yeah, kiddo, it's me. What in the blazes happened?" The older man asked.
Dean's eyelids fluttered, "'M not sure…dinosaurs." Suddenly, Dean's eyes popped wide open, as he tried to sit up, "Where's Sam?"
"I'm right here." Sam muttered, scrunching his eyes closed and placing a hand on his forehead. "And could you please use your inside voice, Dean? My brain is trying to implode, if you don't mind."
Bobby chuckled a little to himself. Some things never change. "So what's this about dinosaurs?" He asked, a little afraid of the answer.
"That's what we…where…when we were." Sam corrected himself. He was having a hard time concentrating through the headache. "Yeah, we went from being trapped in the elevator with a ton of freezing water, to being in a frozen wasteland of nothing but
snow-" Dean began.
"Snow that makes you drunk." Sam interjected.
"-to being transported to the freakin' 'Jurassic Park', with lava and dinosaurs, and…" Dean paused in his rant. "Hey Sam…where's Andrea?"
Sam froze. The image of Andrea keeling over backward with a fist sized stone stuck in her forehead flashed in his mind. "Uh, dude? Andrea…is dead." He said finally.
"Andrea? The librarian?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, she's the librarian all right. The little evil librarian that started all this mess. She's in some kind of secret order to protect the Chupa-" Dean interrupted himself this time, "Sam, what do you mean she's dead?"
"She's dead, dude. She died right before the Pterodactyl did. Not much to tell." Sam muttered, wanting nothing more than to change the conversation to something else. "Say, hadn't we better be getting out of here?" He said.
"A Terra-whatta? Is that what that thing is called?" Dean wondered.
Bobby rolled his eyes. He'd heard enough. "Right boys, Sam has a point. We're in a bit of a spot here." He helped the hunters to their feet. "I think we've been dealing with a Hundun this whole time." He said.
"A what?" Sam asked.
Dean raised his eyebrows. He didn't think that there where many Supernatural things that Sam hadn't heard of before, what with the amount of time that kid put into researching.
"A Hundun. It's a Chinese god of chaos. Some of 'em are good, but most of 'em ain't. The number fourteen came up…an ancient number for seriously bad luck in Asian lore. It's often associated with the work of a Hundun." Bobby went on.
"Umm, okay…" Sam said, "well, how are we supposed to kill it?"
"That's the hard part, boys. We need an arrow dipped in blood. Lore says you have to shoot the dang thing in the heart with one of 'em in order to kill it. Trouble is, they have no eyes, no ears, and no reference point." Bobby said solemnly.
"So…" Dean said, not understanding the problem.
"Meaning, Dean, that even if we can find the thing, basically, we'll be shooting blind. We won't know where to aim." Bobby said a little gruffly. It had been a long day.
"Right, so we need an arrow, a bow, and some blood?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, and we need to find this sucker before he separates us again." Sam added. It was a very valid point, since apparently the whole apartment complex was this things playground.
"Okay, well, we have blood, that's not a problem. What else do we have to work with?" Dean asked. He emptied his pockets: One useless compass and his leaf-blade. Sam followed suit: Several green sapling sticks, about 6 inches long each, and his cell phone, which was also useless. And lastly, Bobby: Four pieces of rope, a small charcoal pencil, and a handful of feathers. The three men looked at each other.
Amazingly, they had just the things for a makeshift bow and arrow.
