Nikki POV
"See?" I said, crouching down so I was out of easy view. "Red barn, old cars in front of it."
Sam and Dean looked mildly impressed, John was ignoring me, glaring at the barn.
An old car pulled up to the barn and a guy wearing a black shirt got out quickly, slamming the door. The barn door opened, another guy with long black hair got out, shielding his eyes from the barely-there sunlight.
"I know what time it is." Black-Shirt snapped at Long-Hair.
"Get in." Long-Hair snapped, shoving the other guy in, shutting the door behind him.
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.
"Shouldn't they be, like, ash or something?" I asked, looking between the three men for an explanation.
"Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn, but it won't kill them." John explained. "The only way to do that is-"
"Beheading." I mumbled, not realizing I'd cut him off.
"Yeah, she's right." John said, sounding surprised. I just shrugged. "And yeah, they sleep during the day, but that doesn't mean they won't wake up."
"So I guess walking right in isn't our best option." Dean groaned.
"Actually, that's the plan." John informed his sons. I just sighed, praying that what I'd seen wasn't going to come true.
After walking another half mile, we were back at the cars. Dean went straight to the trunk of the Impala and propped the hatch open with a shotgun. He took out a machete and handed it to Sam, who put it on his belt, then took one out for himself.
I watch, almost wanting to laugh as John pulled a machete from the automated-looking thing that came out of the back of his truck. It made Dean's Impala hatch look like a child's toy trunk next to a wall safe.
"Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one," Dean said, holding out the huge knife.
I watched as John took the sheath off a long, shiny blade, razor sharp on one side, teeth on the other. "Think I'm ok, thanks," he said. I almost laughed again.
"Wow." Dean said, stunned at his father's arsenal.
"So...You really want to know about this Colt?" John asked, mainly towards Sam and Dean, but he glanced at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it.
"You know something 'bout it?" John asked, looking at me skeptically.
"Uh...The Colt Legend...The-The gun was made by Samuel Colt, right? I read something about it in one of my grim-books. In-In one of my books. It was made in 18-something or other for a hunter, when Halley's Comet was flying by-the night of the Alamo I think. It was a special gun, with 13 special bullets. The hunter he made it for used 6 of them before he and the gun dropped off the face of the earth. What made the gun so legendary was that it supposedly can kill anything." I said.
Apparently I got the story right, because John nodded and said "I didn't believe any of it until I read Daniel's letter. I don't know how he got it..."
"Kill anything," Dean repeated what I said. "Like, are kind of anything? Supernatural anything?"
"Like the demon," Sam realized.
"Yeah, the demon." John said, nodding. "Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing...Find the gun...We may have it."
I stayed silent, watching Sam and Dean stare at their father. My guess is that they were hurt that they weren't kept in the loop, and having a strange feeling of relief that what they've been trying to do all their lives might be possible.
"So, you're getting the gun," I said, looking at John. "You two are keeping watch," I looked at Sam and Dean. "What am I doing?" I asked, glancing quickly at the empty
"What do you mean 'what am I doing'?" Dean repeated gruffly, adjusting the machete on his belt.
"I may be a witch, not a damn warrior like you guys, but I'm not useless." I said honestly, cocking my hip and leaning on John's truck.
"What?" Sam asked, clearly confused.
I paused, looking at the faces of the two brothers. "I am coming with you." I said slowly. "You know that, right?"
"Like hell!" Dean said, almost chuckling.
"Nikki-You aren't trained, you've never hunted anything-" Sam started to lecture me.
"Jeremy Ross has been training her," John said, walking behind Dean to get the third machete from the trunk.
"You think can get out alive?" He asked, holding the large knife out to me. I looked from him, to the machete, then back at him as I took it, running the strap through my belt loops.
"Dad, you can't be serious," Sam said, laughing humorlessly. "She's gonna get herself killed!"
"She knows the risks." John said simply.
"She's never hunted anything and you think a good first are vampires?" Dean asked incredulously. "They'll rip her apart!"
"I'm not a fragile little girl!" I snapped, sticking the gun in my waistband. "I am a pretty kick ass witch. I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I'm sure you can," Dean waved me off, then kept arguing with his dad.
I narrowed my eyes at him, planning to hit him over the head or something, but instead, I slowly back up into the woods, following the path back to the barn. They'd see I was gone soon enough.