AN: Thank you for the reviews! Next chapter coming.

***S*P*N***

Castiel took a deep breath, still laying on the floor of the abandoned warehouse where he'd collapsed after his fight with Amara. He just hope he'd bought the boys enough time to get armed and ready.

Sitting up, Cas still felt a bit light headed, but also sensed his powers were rapidly recharging. Being more powerful than an arch angel definitely had its perks. As soon as his head felt right, Cas transported to the bunker.

Empty.

It was empty. No Dean, no Sam, no John, Mary, Henry or Samuel. Where were they? Had Amara gotten to them? Were they hiding?

Concentrating, Cas was trying to tune into Sam and Dean's thoughts, but all he felt was a world full of pain and anger. Maybe he could locate one of the other hunters. They weren't warded yet.

***spn***

Dean had just barely escaped being seen by the darkly clothed soldiers patroling the house. He'd ducked into a doorway just as one of the men had stuck his head around the corner. They were not searching, which told Dean that they didn't really expect to find anyone. At least anyone that they considered armed and dangerous.

By now he'd counted at least four armed men. Keeping a low profile, Dean silently moved through the building in search of his brother. He knew that if they decided to up their vigilance and starts a more thorough search of the house, he would be a dead man. So he just had to make sure they didn't know he was there.

But despite his stealth, he couldn't avoid detection much longer. The number of soldiers steadily increased and Dean almost collided with one of them, as he tried to sneak around a corner. His game was up. He sprinted along the hallway, the soldier hot on his heels, and dove into an open door. A bullet ricocheted from the frame and zinged past his head.

All of a sudden all lights went off. Cursing, Dean realized the soldiers must be able to use night vision gadgets and were reducing his chances to escape unscathed dramatically. Not that they had been rosy to start with.

Dean listened at the door that led to the next room. He eased the door open and slowly poked his head out. Seeing no one he relaxed a little. Muffled sounds could be heard coming from down the hall. He wasn't sure how he was going to get a look at any of these guys without being seen himself. Glancing to the left he noticed a staircase. If he made it upstairs, he could cross over from the left row of the barracks and with any luck, he might see something from the balcony that connected both rows. Dean bit down on his lower lip and made his move. He almost made it.

***spn***

When Henry dove out of the fog, he looked around. Dean was nowhere to be seen. Next to him, Mary stepped into the clear air and took a deep breath. Copying Henry's screening the area, she gripped her gun tighter.

"He's inside."

Just at that moment a shot echoed inside the building. With silent communication that Mary couldn't believe worked with someone she barely knew, they moved towards the door to enter.

Meanwhile John had parked the T-bird in the fog behind the Impala. Not really knowing his way around town he hadn't been able to wipe a smug grin off his face when he'd located the Chevy. Dean, Mary and Henry couldn't be far. Samuel and John headed into the fog, their firearms ready just in case.

"Told ya I'd find it," John grinned, knowing very well that Samuel couldn't see him do so. The man grunted moodily nevertheless. He was probably still peeved at being called an old man.

***spn***

The soldier caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and brought up his assault rifle. He yammered out a burst and the bullets hit the wall where the man had just been. He ran to the stairs and looked up. How had he missed this guy?

"MOLE IN THE HOLE, MOLE IN THE HOLE." The soldier screamed into his mic and waved to another man to cover him as he ascended the stairs. The second soldier waited for the first to go around the corner, then he followed. It was a narrow space and there wasn't much room to swing a rifle. He ducked when he heard gunfire erupt. Before he could move out of the way he was sent sprawling backwards, carried down by the weight of the first soldier. Dead eyes greeted him when he rolled the man off, bullet hole center between the eyes.

Dean had fired once at the soldier, before topping the staircase and taking off at a run down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder and when he saw no one following, he stopped to orient himself. There was a hallway to his left and he was pretty sure that it led to the bedrooms on the backside of the building. Most of those rooms had connecting doors. This was fortunate because Dean didn't want to get caught in a place that had only one way out. Now that they were aware of his presence, he would have to stay on the move.

Dean had no way of knowing how many men he was up against. He would have to be very conservative with his bullets, firing only when he had a good shot. His plan was to let them come to him and pick off as many as he could, while waiting for Mary and Henry as well as John and Samuel to enter the scene and improve his chances. Their chances. Sam's chances!

Repelling the thought that he had no real hope of getting out of this alive, Dean saw his only option at the moment to try and even the odds. Holding his breath in an attempt to calm down his racing pulse, Dean waited in the shadows.

The soldier came to a hallway that led off to the left and announced his location to the rest of the unit. Another member of his unit was advancing from the other direction and he knew there was no way the civilian was going to get past either of them. He kicked open doors as he went, glancing in quickly then retreating, looking for the slightest movement.

As the zombie soldier opened the door of the third bedroom, he saw a figure dart through the connecting door into the next room. Firing off a volley at the retreating shadow, he went back out into the hall to kick open the door to the next room.

He fired into the room and entered, crouching low, while sweeping his rifle from left to right. He saw no one, got to his feet and backed out into the hall. There he turned left to go back into the third bedroom but was dropped where he stood, a bullet catching him just over the left eye.

Taking a moment to inspect his handywork, Dean took a deep breath. "Two down, x to go," he muttered quietly before moving on.

***spn***

Mary and Henry slowly moved through the dark corridors, relying on their ears more than their eyes. Distant running and shouting drew them into a certain direction. As Mary carefully rounded a corner, she backpedalled so fast that she crashed into Henry behind her and they retreated several steps.

"Contact," she whispered, raising her gun, ready to shoot. Her attempt at moving forward hadn't gone unnoticed as rapidly approaching footsteps disclosed. As soon as the soldier rounded the corner, Mary pulled the trigger, tearing a hole into the man's torso.

Yet instead of the soldier falling down, he kept approaching, assault rifle levelled at their bodies. Mary's surprise at this didn't throw her off for long, however. Before the soldier could return fire, Mary's next bullet hit him in the eye and he went down.

Listening for a moment, Henry and Mary were relieved not to hear any obvious noises that would mean their actions had been observed. Mary crouched down next to the downed man and after a short search she switched on the looted flash light.

"What on earth...?" She muttered as she took in the black vained discoloration on the man's exposed neck and face. Henry, upon noticing her reaction, crouched down quickly.

"This reminds me of what I read about the Croatoan Virus," he said. "Essentially, this man was already dead. Like, a zombie."

"Okay," Mary nodded. "That explains why the bullet to the chest didn't do anything. If you have to shoot, aim for the head."

***spn***

As Dean rose from his crouch, he found himself facing a rifle being held by another soldier who had entered the hallway from the other direction. Both men fired simultaneously and Dean saw the soldier go down. Stumbling backward, he retreated down the hall. He felt a burning sensation above his right temple and ear and with his left hand he moved tentative fingers to the side of his head. When he brought his hand back down it was covered in blood.

"Strike one," he whispered out loud and then wiped his hand on his jeans. He'd gotten lucky, the bullet had only grazed him.

Dean was breathing very hard now, adrenalin on full throttle running through his veins. He could feel the warm blood trickle down his neck and shook his head when spots started to appear in front of his eyes. Blacking out was not an option. He'd had worse than that, he could pull through. There was a ringing in his ears and he fought the distraction as he tried to decide where he should go next.

The decision was made for him as another soldier appeared in front of him and took aim. Quickly, Dean ducked into an open room and dove behind a large bed. Gunfire sprayed the room and Dean winced as splinters of the wall where the bullets impacted came loose and hit him in the back. Dean did not have night vision goggles, but the moon was out, and enough light was coming through the windows to enable him to get around in the dark. Keeping his head down Dean waited and wondered whether more soldiers were coming.

He knew he'd have to make a move before reinforcements showed up. The hunter glanced at the connecting door which was a good twenty feet away and then got into a sprinters crouch. Bouncing on his heels a couple of times, he then shot out from behind the bed and ran for the door.

Dean felt the sting of the bullet as it hit his leg. He went down on one knee for only a second, then he was up and running again, going from room to room through the connecting doors until he entered one that appeared to have only one way out. Dean squinted in the almost complete blackness and wiped the still flowing blood out of his eyes before making a run for the only door.

The door was already half open, so Dean got down on his knees and then leaned out over the threshold. He threw his body out through the doorway and lying mostly on his side on the floor, he fired his weapon at the one or more soldiers that he assumed would be in the hallway.

His bullets found their mark and a soldier went down. Dean rolled onto his other side but saw no one coming in the opposite direction. He knew this kind of luck was not going to last much longer, so he got to his feet and limped off down the hall towards the right wing of the barracks.

***spn***

John and Samuel had finally emerged from the fog and spurred on by the repeated sound of guns fired, they quickly made their way into the barracks, where they split up. Samuel headed left while John moved right, a feeling of foreboding ever present in the marine's body.

Finding a stairway, John moved up to the next floor and immediately found himself facing a man in uniform. Something was off about the soldier and in the dim light of the moon shining through the window John could make out the eerie black veins contrasting the pale skin. Realizing he was no longer dealing with a human, John's reflexes kicked in and he pulled the trigger.

TBC...

AN2: Bad me... Sam is still suffering and now Dean is in the line of fire. Reviews? :)