Chapter 6

Dean returned just after sunset and went about readying his ammunition. Sam followed suit and sharpened machetes. If it was ghouls living up in the ranch's barn, then they needed to sever the head. Cas sat at the table quietly watching the brother's at their work. There was no discussion made, but everyone silently agreed that Cas would be no help to the men in this hunt. He was too sporadic with his emotions and could end up getting all of them killed. Instead, he was the first to say he would remain behind at the motel and promised to not do any more exploring while he waited.

Sam glanced at Cas and noticed his eyes still looked red from his earlier tears. He worried how this would end with Cas and Dean. He always suspected that there was a stronger connection between the two men, but Castiel always lacked the genuine emotion to make the connection mean anything. Now it seemed as though Castiel was overwhelmed with his emotion but how long would it last? And when it was done, and he goes back to the angel he was before, what will happen to Dean? Sam tried to push the thoughts away. He wanted to focus on the hunt now. He needed to be in his game.

"Alright," Dean said as he rose to his feet, "we go to where the locals said this ranch is located and camp out until the Murray family seems to all be fast asleep. Then we swoop in like the couple of bad-asses that we are and take down those sons of bitches in the barn."

"We need to know what they are up to first, Dean," Sam corrected, "Ghouls are usually scavengers and if they aren't praying on humans there is no cause to kill them."

"Yeah yeah," Dean waved his brothers caution away, "if they have been on the run for this long, we already know they are up to something. Come on. Let's go see some heads roll." Dean slung his gun over his shoulder, grabbed a machete, and headed for the door. Sam turned and silently waved goodbye to Castiel before following suit. He only hoped they could return to tell the tale to the friend they were leaving behind.

They drove out of town and deeper into the rugged mid-west countryside. They were told that there were a small cluster of ranches about ten miles out of town off a road called Drybone. Not that any of these roads were marked, but Dean figured he would get into the general area and hoof it the rest of the way in.

"So let's go over the plan again," Sam said and Dean rolled his eyes. Sam planned a little too much in his opinion.

"So we roll in there all stealth like," Dean began, "and try our best not to be noticed until we are ready…" he reviewed the plan in its entirety and Sam reviewed all the possible "what if" scenarios he could muster. He already knew the answers to most of his questions, he just needed the reassurance. Sam has grown so much since he became a hunter and Dean was even willing to admit that they got each other's backs better than he and his dad ever did.

Dad… The familiar tinge of hurt in his chest returned every time he thought of the man. He pushed it aside and buried it deep before it became more than what he could handle. Soon they were pulling into a small turn-around off the side of the road and Dean killed the engine to his car. Dean and Sam slipped out of the car wordlessly and made their way farther down the road on foot to where a dirt lane jutted off to the left.

"This is just over ten miles outside of town," Dean said just above a whisper, "this has got to be the road we're looking for." Sam followed Dean without a word as they broke away from the main drag and onto the gravel road. The soft leather of their hard worked shoes gave little sound against the crunching stones, and they moved deeper into the darkness. Sam offered a flashlight from his pack but Dean shook his head. The moon was well enough in the sky overhead that he could see without falling on his ass, and he didn't want to risk detection.

The brothers walked for quite a while until they approached the first ranch house. Fortunately, many of these ranch goers liked to put titles on their farms and a sign hanged at the driveway entrance declaring the farm to be "Peterson's Nest". Not a very Murray sounding name, so Dean and Sam moved on. They explored two more driveways and even a neighboring barn but continued to come up empty handed as the night drug on.

"Maybe it was a bad lead," whispered Sam, but Dean shook his head. It was an odd coincidence that this girl suddenly appeared and her story fell into his lap. He knew the ghouls had nested in the area all week but just couldn't seem to weasel them out of their nest, and then suddenly the nests location is hand delivered to him. No, he didn't think it was a bad lead, but he did suspect that this might be some sort of bad trap.

Drybone road took a sharp turn to the left and the brothers climbed the slope of a hill in the path. At its crest, they paused to study the large farm spread out below them where Drybone road reached its end. Dean could hear the cows groaning in the one barn directly adjacent to the house, but there was a smaller barn some ways back behind a tractor shed. A variety of other outbuildings littered the property, but all including the farm house were lights-out. Dean checked his watch; it was 8:25.

"Something is wrong," Sam said shaking his head. "This doesn't look right."

"Yeah…you aren't kidding," Dean muttered as he studied the landscape. What to do…what to do…

"Maybe we should come back," Sam said; always the cautious one. Dean barked a dry chuckle. He suspected if they left now, the ghouls would move on again and all this stewing in the motel would have been for nothing. No, it had to be then and now. No more excuses. Dean turned off of the road and into the high grass alongside to somewhat hide his figure to the farm before them. He heard Sam calling after him but he didn't respond. Sam would follow. He always did.

The closer he got, Dean began to notice a flicker of firelight concealed by some of the buildings. He also saw the slight shadow of movement near those flames. So that would be his destination then. He hoped to capture one of the ghouls to question what they were doing befriending a local farmer, but if they were all gathered together that would not be an option.

Suddenly hands were upon him and Dean felt himself being thrown to the ground. He landed with a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him, and tried to turn to face his attacker. Fortunately Sam was on the creature before it had a chance to do further damage, and his brother grabbed it from behind to wrestle it away from Dean. Dean reached behind his back and wrapped hands around the colt. He drew it out in front of him just as the shadowy shape wrestled free from Sam and took off running away from the farm. Dean thought about firing, but didn't know what they were up against and if it would do any good. Plus he didn't want to alert the others below to their location, which a gunshot would most certainly do. He watched as the figure moved towards the crest of the hill and paused to turn back and look at him. The moon caught its face in such a way that Dean could almost make out its features.

"Angel?" he whispered to the night air, and then the figure turned and was gone.

"Was that your friend from the bar?" Sam asked as he helped Dean to his feet.

"I don't know…I think so," Dean said shaking his head.

"She was pretty strong Dean. What is she? A ghoul? A demon?" Dean just shook his head at his brother's questions. His feeling about this whole situation was going from bad to let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here. He was going to suggest this course of action when he turned and could see that some of the figures at the farm had broken away from the fire and were dragging a screaming girl towards it. She looked to be about thirteen. Cursing under his breath, he motioned Sam to follow him as the crouched down closer to the earth.

They were able to get in closer than Dean expected and his stomach churned as he counted not four but eight figures around the fire. Upon the fire there appeared to be a roasting spit and a few of the monsters where cutting the girls clothes away while the others watched. Some of them cheered.

"Looks like they are going for cooked meat these days instead of the rotting variety," Sam muttered to Dean. "What do we do? There are too many of them to take all at once." Dean studied the situation and reviewed all the tactics he has used in the past.

Come on, Dean, think damn you, whispered Cas in his mind and the voice of his friend seemed to calm to wrenching in his gut. He took a deep breath.

"We're going in."