Nikki POV
"I'm not kidding, I have great aim," I said, following Dean as he went from the back of his dad's truck, to the hatch in the Impala.
"Ok, you listen to me," Dean said, slamming the trunk shut. "Maybe we couldn't keep you at the motel, but you will stay in the car, even if we have to handcuff you to the damn door handle!"
"Oh, harsh," I said, dramatically placing my hand over my heart. Dean just rolled his eyes and walked away.
I frowned and sat on the trunk of the Impala, pulling my feet up onto the bumper and crossing my arms over my knees. How in the hell was I going to convince them that I could actually help them.
"God...I feel so useless!" I groaned, letting my head loll backwards.
"You said you're a good shot?" I heard Dean say, making me look up. Dean had the Civil War rifle in his hands, the one I gave him. Sam was a few hundred yards away, spray painting a target on a tree. "Prove it."
"Gimmie," I said, holding my hands out for the gun. It wasn't that different than the hunting rifles Jeremy had shown me, and Jane had some expertise in this area…
I ignored his explanation, him telling me how to hold the gun. He'd already loaded the bullet and pulled the pin and safety back, it was ready to fire. I didn't even bother waiting until Dean was done. I aimed and pulled the trigger.
"Shit!" Sam yelped as he jumped, throwing himself into the trunk of a large tree when he heard the shot. Both Sam and Dean looked from the tree, then me, in shock.
There was now a chipped, jagged hole in the tree, in the middle of the target.
I handed Dean the gun, an innocent look on my face. "I read in Jane's journal that she did a lot of target practice. She was good, really good. Guess it rubbed off on me." I shrugged.
"Ok...Ok you can come with." Dean grumbled.
"But if we say run, you run," Sam called from the tree he was digging the bullet out with a knife.
"When?" I asked for the fifth time, my arm tired from holding the heavy rifle.
"Now." John finally answered me, sounding reluctant, probably because I was shooting them, not him or Sam.
The rifle wasn't like other hunting rifles, I'd been the only one of the four of us to actually hit what I was aiming for, much to Dean's disappointment. I aimed for a split second and hit the male vampire. I quickly loaded another bullet and fired again, hitting the chick vamp in the chest.
"Nice," Sam said approvingly as we jogged down the hill.
"Barely even stings." The girl snapped cockily, obviously lying.
"Give it time, sweetheart," John said. "That's not an ordinary bullet; it's got dead man's blood in it. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"
Sam unsheathed his machete and made the male vampire, who was swaying on his feet kneel on the ground, blade and arm up, ready to decapitate him at his dad's command.
The female one collapsed.
"Load her up." John said to Dean, who had the unfortunate pleasure of catching her. "I'll take care of this one."
Dean threw the passed out vamp over his shoulder, I followed, pausing to wait for Sam. He glanced at me, then the vampire, then his father before walking next to me. I stiffened as I heard the wet, splattering sound of blood being dispersed. The feeling of disgust quickly faded away when Sam put a hand on the small of my back, pushing slightly to make me walk faster, but comforting as well.