Chapter 15
He knew that the howl should have frightened him, but it had the opposite effect. Instead of quailing at the prospect of tangling with the skin walker again the sound spurred him to run toward the beast, brandishing the axe handle. Perhaps it was actually more like a shuffle as his left leg didn't want to cooperate, but it had the desired effect: the black dog sprang toward him. Dean angled the axe handle to backhand into the beast's head just as they collided. It yelped but didn't stop coming, rising up on its hind legs to put oversized paws on Dean's shoulders and propel them both to the ground.
He tried to bring the axe handle around to fill the gaping mouth full of sharp teeth but wasn't fast enough and with its hot breath washing his face the animal scissored its jaws around his throat. Before he could even react to his impending death, Lizzie loomed over them screaming and hit the beast in the head with a two handed swing of the heavy pipe wrench. It screeched again, scraping its teeth along Dean's skin as its head snapped back and the force of her blow knocked the beast to the side.
The dog twisted and leapt at Lizzie, but she hit it with the wrench again like she was aiming for the outfield fence and a home run. The black dog sat back on its haunches for a beat, and shook its head. Then it reared back and howled again. A quick leap and it was on Lizzie, teeth sunk into her left shoulder, its weight pushing at her, trying to topple her. But she refused to go down, feet back peddling until she struck a wall driving the wind out of her. She grabbed at the dog's snout one handed attempting to loosen its grip, her other hand weakly beating across its side with the pipe wrench.
Dean rose quickly, ignoring the tearing sensation in his left thigh as he did, and yelled, "hey, Cujo!" as he pitched himself forward attempting to impale the skin walker with the broken end of the axe handle.
The makeshift lance tore through the fur and flesh, bright flashes of light tracing up the axe handle and spitting against the skin of his arm. The sharp end lodged in the skin walker's side and brought Dean's rush to an abrupt end when the three of them hit the floor in a tangled mess.
Limbs flailing and claws tearing into its opponents the dog tore free of them and moved away, putting its back to the tunnel entrance, red eyes like embers staring the adversaries down.
Lizzie was up quickly and grabbing at Dean helped him up. He saw the axe handle at his feet, apparently torn from the wound when they'd struggled with the black dog. He seized it and stood shoulder to shoulder with Lizzie waiting to see what the beast's next move would be. A breath or two later a second black dog, nearly as big as the first, padded down the tunnel and stood slightly behind it. The wounded dog emitted a low growl that wavered in pitch, the second dog returning a similar sound.
Dean reckoned they were communicating, and he knew it didn't bode well. He shared a glance at Lizzie who was flexing her left shoulder and murmuring, "well that's gonna leave a mark." as she inspected the damage. Blood ran freely down the ripped front and sleeve of her BDU jacket but after that cursory look she focussed on the two hellish beasts staring them down.
"You good?" she breathed out in a low voice.
"Yeah." he returned in the same tone. "You?"
"Hooah."
As one they coiled, ready to launch themselves at the skin walkers when a voice froze them both.
"Dean!"
He spun straining through the flickering light of the campfire to look in the direction the sound came from, "Sammy?"
And in that instant the second beast sprang toward the mine entrance. It had taken hardly more than a step when the staccato of gunshots overlapped each other as Sam and Bobby both fired at the animal. It jerked repeatedly with the impacts and slowed its pace, wavering, but didn't fall. Meanwhile the first beast sprang at Dean and Lizzie again and they were dodging fangs and claws as they tangled with it and went down again.
They rolled across the floor, perilously close to the campfire. The creature kicked at Dean, catching him in the gut and forcefully shoving him even closer to the flames. He caught himself as the flames began to lick at an arm and shoulder and felt himself being pulled away from the heat.
"Dean!" Sam had pulled him onto his back and was grabbing at his chest. "The powder! Where's the powder?"
Dean stared up at his younger brother incredulously. Powder? What powder? "Wha -" he mumbled.
"The white powder!" Sam's large hand slapped at his chest, the other still gripping the shotgun. "Where'd you put it?"
Suddenly it registered and Dean grabbed at the left chest pocket of his jacket, ripping the flap and nearly dislodging the rivet button in his haste to open it. He pulled out the leather pouch and Sam tore it from his hand, fumbling it open, dropping the shotgun at his side then he yanked the axe handle from Dean and poured the fine white powder onto the sharp end.
"It has to be killed by wood dipped in white ash!" Sam yelled as the second beast grabbed his shoulder from behind and spun him around, dislodging the axe handle from his grip. In one motion Sam seized the shotgun and raised it one handed, the stock against his thigh as he knelt before the beast ripping at him with long claws. He pulled the trigger, once, twice, then a dry fire. Out! But the beast was rocked back by the close range shots and retreated sluggishly, its torso dripping deep red blood and sparks of light. Sam watched in disbelief as the skin and shaggy fur began to mend before his eyes.
Dean scrambled to his feet, grabbing the axe handle from where it fell. He lunged past Sam at the beast aiming for its half restored wounds and jammed the axe handle into the tattered flesh, grunting with effort as he hit bone. He kept driving as hard as he could, getting his weight behind the wood so that the animal slid backward, claws scrabbling at the dirt. A thin growling howl rose from the beast's throat which was abruptly cut off as it hit a fallen section of rock ceiling behind it and sprawled over backward. Dean landed on top of it, shoving the axe handle deeper still. As he hit the shaggy body it exploded into blinding light and fur and gore was flung upward and outward. Dean rolled away onto his knees and sat for a few seconds, breathing hard, dripping with the creature's blood and wiping the gore from his face with one hand.
An ear piercing howl rose behind him into a shrill keening at the edge of his hearing. Curled over, hands now tight against his ears, Dean twisted to stare behind him from under his raised arm. The first beast had released Lizzie and she was cowering nearby also covering her ears. The black dog was back on its haunches, head thrown back so far he could see the pulse pounding in its throat. Then, still keening it sprang, ramming Dean aside as it came to the body of the beast that was killed. But it was no longer a shaggy black dog lying there. It was a young man, dark hair and skin and staring deep brown eyes. He wore a shaggy wolf fur wrapped around his naked body, the legs tied to his wrists and ankles. His chest was in tatters and the axe handle still protruded. The black dog stared at the young man for a moment longer, then growling and yipping loudly it ran toward the entrance trying to shoulder past Bobby who stood in the mouth of the tunnel. The beast kept going, ignoring the hail of fire the older hunter rained on it. Then with a grunt Sam landed across the beast's back, knocking it from its feet with the force of his tackle. Struggling against the flailing limbs, Sam pinned the snapping, slavering muzzle to the ground with his hands and wrapped his legs around the writhing body.
From across the tunnel Dean yanked the axe handle from the corpse and leapt toward his brother, hitting his knees and sliding the last few feet holding the axe handle over his head. When he reached the figures he slammed the point of the handle home in the skin walker's side, aiming for the heart. Dust and gore exploded over them as the skin walker's screech crescendoed from an animal growl to the agonized scream of a man. Then abruptly it stopped and the tunnel went silent except for the crackle of the campfire.
Slowly he became aware of Sam's tight grip on his shoulder, but Dean was in a haze, staring down at the now human remains of the skin walker, rubbing more blood and fur from his face. He recognized Jacob, who's sightless eyes looked off into a distance only seen by the dead.
"You all right?" Bobby stood over them now.
Sam looked up and answered softly for them both, "Fine."
Dean tried to get up and fell back onto his right hip. Then he twisted, whispering, "Lizzie..."
She was standing over one of the bodies, staring down, trancelike, not moving.
He shifted again, trying to back to his knees. Testament to his pain was letting Sam pull him to his feet. Dean stood, swaying slightly on one leg, the injured leg held up with the boot toe barely touching the ground. Louder, with more force, "Lizzie."
The young woman stood staring down at the mutilated corpse of her uncle. Abruptly she shook as if trying to shed water, then said slowly, almost to herself. "I knew. I knew, but I didn't want to know." She turned her face toward Dean, staring enigmatically at him. Then without another word she headed for the entrance of the tunnel, not looking back.