Chapter Eleven
A harpy
The shock on Bobby's face was unmistakable and that one word echoed in his head as he struggled with the implications of what Jane had just said, even as a very small part of himself hoped that it wasn't true. "Excuse me?"
"A harpy. What... killed Amy. It was a harpy."
Now that Jane had found her voice each word came out a little stronger, her growing confidence as she spoke obvious to everyone in the room.
Still Bobby had to ask one more time, despite his gut telling telling him it was an idjit thing to do.
He had to be sure. Needed to be completely and one hundred percent positive that this was what they were up against because if they were, trouble didn't begin to describe how royally screwed they all were.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Her answer was sure and determined, leaving no room for doubt, causing Bobby to give a big sigh as he let a breath out upon hearing this confirmation, his lips pursing in a hard line. "Balls!"
Witnessing the exchange Sam looked at his brother, raising an eyebrow in an attempt to get Dean to ask the question he knew they were both thinking.
Dean caught Sam's look and replied back at him with a look of his own, a look that said Yeah, I've got this. "Bobby. You care to let us in on what's going on?"
"Harpies." Bobby's tone was laced with disgust, his stomach churning at the thought of one of those creatures being here in this town.
"O-kay. Well that's about as clear as – mud. Do you think you can elaborate further? Or do I have to start sending up smoke signals?"
His face still grim Bobby picked up his empty glass and reached across the table for the bottle of whiskey. "I need a drink."
A further questioning look passed between the brothers, both of them more than a little surprised as to how Bobby was handling this. Bobby was... well Bobby. He was the one who had the answers, who was always in control, especially when it involved a hunt. As far as they knew there was pretty much nothing Bobby couldn't handle so to see him on edge like this was just a little unnerving.
Something had gotten under skin and whatever it was, it wasn't good.
Sam was the first to collect himself, putting aside the anxiety he felt at the way Bobby was acting, concentrating instead on the brief conversation that had transpired and Jane's announcement of what they were hunting. "Harpy? That's out of Greek mythology?"
Bobby paused, the drink of whiskey in his hand hovering just a few inches away from his lips. "It ain't no myth." He tossed back the glass, quickly swallowing its contents.
"You've come up against one before?" This time it was Dean who spoke first, voicing the question.
"Yeah. And it ain't an experience I wish to repeat. Viscous blood thirsty suckers. You don't wanna mess with one of these. They'll rip your heart right out from your chest and do it with a smile."
"Well don't they just sound peachy." The sarcasm dripped from Dean's voice in annoyance. "So how do we kill it?"
"You don't," said Jane, her softly spoken words abruptly halting the men's conversation.
SN*SN*SN
Jane's words lingered in the air, oppressive in their meaning, as her and Bobby exchanged looks while Dean and Sam looked on in surprise.
Placing his empty glass down on the table Bobby finally spoke. "She's right." The brothers surprised looks now switched from Jane to Bobby, but before they could give voice to it Bobby carried on. "You don't kill these things without a damn good plan. They think like we do, work like we do."
Comprehension flickered across Sam's face as he took in Bobby's words, realization hitting him as to what it implied. "Their hunters."
Bobby nodded at the mixture of query and surprise in Sam's voice. "The ultimate hunter. At least that's what some say. Personally I just think they're psycho sonsofabitches. Either way it's going to be hard to find. They're good at blending in. Really good. Finding the damn thing is going to be a mission from God, let alone killing it."
Sam knew what this meant but couldn't understand why it would make this hunt anymore difficult than others; going up against monsters that looked anything but was pretty much part of their standard repartee. "It looks human."
"Yeah, only it ain't, not underneath anyway."
Dean finished off the remains of his whiskey. "That's just great. It could be anyone.
Bobby ignored the stain of annoyance in Dean's voice. Living on too little sleep and too much booze had a tendency to roughen the edges; not that anyone could blame Dean for it. Where he had been it was a miracle he was still half sane so a little roughness was nothing that couldn't be ignored.
"Generally their female so that cuts about half the population out," said Bobby giving Dean a half hearted apologetic look, though inside he was just as worried about this fact as the boys were, more so in fact because he knew exactly what they were up against and how hard it was going to be to hunt and kill it. This though was the least of their concerns because the one thing past experience had taught him was that the Harpy was most likely onto them and if it was then they weren't going to be the ones doing the hunting, the Harpy was hunting them.
"And leaves us with the other half," fired back Dean, once again stating the obvious as the three men exchanged grim looks.
SN*SN*SN
With the weight of everything that had been said still ringing in his ears Sam knew that what he was about to do went against everything he had been doing until this moment but he realized what Bobby meant, she was the only real led they had. Bringing one of the dining chairs closer to her he sat down, his face sober.
"Jane?"
Jane wanted to ignore Sam but knew that to do so was futile, it would accomplish nothing; there was no where else to run, no where else to hide, not anymore, that's if there ever had been in the first place. With a weary reluctance she pulled her gaze from legs of Dean's jeans, knowing she could no longer lose herself in the faded blue denim of it.
Sam saw her hesitancy and smiled tenderly, wanting to soften the blow before he went in, hating himself for doing this. "The Harpy. What do you remember from the other night?"
Jane bit down on her lower lip in an effort to fight back the fleeting feeling of fear and panic that threatened to come surging forward. It worked; the sensation of pain stopping the fear from taking over her emotions. Visibly swallowing now that she had control she tried to focus on what had happened that night as bits and pieces of images went through her memory. "There was... there was blood. So much blood. And I... I tried... but I couldn't…"
"But you saw it?" Sam kept his eyes on her, his question cutting through Jane's barely veiled panic, trying his best to keep her focused.
Jane nodded. The panic was still there but she was holding on, fighting back against it with every bit of will she had. "It was… It looked... human, but it wasn't. It's hands. They were all wrong. Like talons on a bird. And there was this…"
She paused as she struggled to reach out and grab hold of that one memory and make it a tangible thing and suddenly she was there again, standing in the diner, a bloody knife in her hand, blood all around when the elusive thing that had been nagging at the back of her mind hit her. "... smell."
"Smell?" Sam glanced over to Bobby, who shrugged in reply, letting Sam know that he had no idea what this was. "What kind of smell?"
"It was sweet. Too sweet. Like… perfume… but mixed in with something else. Like... honey and rotten fruit."
"What else do you remember?"
Jane paused again and in that pause her certainty began to waver, a tiny spark of doubt worming it's way into her mind as she was faced with the scrutiny of the men who waited for her response. Her memories were such a mess, could she really trust them? Should she trust them?
"I…"
Her voice failed her as the doubt grew and the memories came flooding in through all the empty spaces that had been left behind. Panicked with the almost overwhelming wave of fragmented memories that assaulted her Jane abruptly stood up. The onslaught of images too much to bear. Images of blood and Amy's dead body mingling with other memories, memories of men being tortured and slowly killed, their cries ringing in her ears. Words rushed out of her mouth, her hands fidgeting in a restless state, unable to keep still. "I... I can't do this. I'm … I'm sorry but... but I can't. It's too... too... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
With the desire to run now her only thought Jane headed to the door, the simmering agitation boiling over into a restlessness that she couldn't control, even if she wanted to.
Seeing her obvious distress Sam tried to stop her, "Jane!" The sound of her name had no affect and the door slammed loudly after her leaving the three of them to look on in concern.
"Damnit!"
The curse broke free from Sam as he went to follow her, only stopping when Dean interceded, snatching the flask of whiskey from the table and giving his brother a steady stare. "I'll go."
SN*SN*SN
Outside Jane was startled by the bright afternoon light and squinted her eyes, trying to keep out the glare as she ducked her head, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the sun was pressing down on them instead of the weight of her past. Uncomfortable in the daylight Jane hunched over, her whole body drawing itself inwards as she tried to make herself as small as possible.
The shock of finding that it was light outside helped to push some of the panic back, though the agitation was still there, rippling inside, pacing like a tiger. She walked hurriedly along, her hands digging themselves further deeper into the pockets of Sam's jacket, the solid and steady pounding of her footsteps the only thing that mattered, each step telling her that she was getting further away.
She had no idea where she was headed and no longer cared. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as her strides got quicker and quicker. If the Harpy saw her now then so be it. It could all be over. She would be free of the memories. Free of the pain. Free of all the things that haunted her.
She stopped, standing still on the tarmac, closing her eyes, pushing the tears back. Crying would solve nothing. It was a sign of weakness. A sign of cowardice. And she was not a coward.
All she wanted was a quiet life.
No hunting. No monsters. No... memories.
The sound of heavy footsteps came from behind her but she didn't turn round. Instead the smell of gunpowder and whiskey and oil floated through the air reaching her senses.
Dean.
As his shadow fell across the footpath joining hers, Jane heard him move and his arm appeared, the flask of whiskey gripped tightly in his hand as he held it out to her.
Neither said anything as the flask passed between them.
SN*SN*SN
"It happens."
Sam stopped in mid motion as he shoved clothing into his duffel bag, a wad of clothing clutched in his hand, his arm half buried in the bag.
Seeing he now had Sam's attention, the words flowed easily. "Some hunters. They lose it. And they don't come back."
Sam pushed the bundle of clothing further down into the bag, his own agitation just as obvious as Jane's had been. He knew Bobby was right but that didn't make it any easier. "I know. Its just... She's my age, maybe younger. Is that what's gonna happen to me? To Dean?"
Bobby's eyes narrowed a little in slight disbelief. "Is that what you think?"
"I don't know. Maybe. You saw how she is. Her hands, they were shaking." Somehow that image disturbed Sam the most.
Bobby on the other hand had no problem with how Jane was acting. "Yeah. So?"
"She's a hunter. Hunters don't get…"
Bobby jumped in, blunt and to the point as was his way. "Don't get what? Don't get scared? Don't get afraid? You think we're better than everyone else?"
"No! I've never thought that. Its just that... seeing her like this... someone who was a hunter. It…"
"... makes it more real," interrupted Bobby.
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Dean's just like her. He has nightmares. and he's drinking..." He paused for just a second. "... more. I know he's keeping something from me. I think he remembers Hell but he won't talk to me about it."
"What did you expect? That he'd wanna hold hands and cry like a girl and everything would be alright? This is your brother we're talking about. He's more closed off than North Korea. All we need to do is to help him pick up the pieces when he does crack. You can't keep worrying about him, you'll only drive yourself nuts."
Sam smiled faintly at the irony of this last part, knowing deep down that Bobby was right. It was just so hard to see his brother like this. "Cute."
Bobby shrugged his shoulders, half smiling.
With the tension in the room easing Sam concentrated his thoughts back onto the hunt. "Okay. So what are we going to do about this Harpy? You've hunted one before, how are we going to find it if it's so smart."
Bobby's face instantly went serious at this reminder of what they were up against and he took a moment to answer as a idea came to him. "We need to set a trap."
SN*SN*SN
Through the window of the motel's office Noah Larson watched, his hand picking up the phone and dialing a number, while his eyes remained glued on the two people he could see in the distance. He didn't understand why they didn't just up and have the girl arrested; she's was just plain crazy and that was all there was to it but he wasn't the type to ask questions, questions only got you answers that you really rather not know.
"It's Noah. That girl you wanna me to keep an eye out on. She's outside and lookin' mighty restless." He paused listening to the voice on the other end.
"Yep, one of them Marshall's are with her."
Noah nodded his head even though the person he was talking to couldn't see him, pulling the lace curtain a fraction as he peered through it.
"Looks like their just talkin'. Yeah I'll let know if they leave. Okay Sheriff, what ever you say."