1.13
Apparently every single highway in America has construction. We pull off at a gas station and Sam is adamant he can figure it out.
"You going to find a shortcut or something?" I ask.
"There are other roads in the world beside highways," says Sam.
"Yes I know that, thank you. But highways are also, you know, faster."
"Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here," Sam says. "We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought."
Dean has been on his phone and looks over at us. "Yeah. Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania."
"We...what?"
"Why not?" I ask.
"I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing."
"Old friend?" I ask. "Who?"
"What?" asks Sam.
"Yeah. Believe me, she never would've called, never, if she didn't need us," says Dean. He gets into the car and looks over at Sam and I, still standing there. "Come on, are you guys coming or not?"
Sam folds up the map.
"Shot gun!" I call.
Sam scoffs. "I'll rock paper scissors you for it."
I frown. But nod. Sam wins. Bastard.
"Who called?" I ask.
"Uh..." Dean stammers and starts the car. "Cassie."
"Ohhhhh," I say, grinning. "Her."
Dean eyes me in the rearview mirror but starts driving. "Yeah, her."
"Well that really is interesting, isn't it?"
Dean ignores me. "He was killed by a truck. Ran him off the road. Says he thought he was being followed for a little while. She says it seems really suspicious and that...uh," Dean clears his throat. "I could help."
Sam asks, "So by old friend you mean...?
"A friend that's not new," says Dean.
"Oh yeah, thanks. So her name's Cassie huh? You never mentioned her."
"Didn't I?"
"Dean you haven't mentioned her since we left that town," I say.
Sam looks at Dean.
"Yeah, we went out," he says.
"You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?"
"How do you date somebody for one night?" I ask.
"Don't worry about it," says Sam to me. He turns back to Dean. "Really Dean? Dated?"
"Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" asks Dean. "We were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a couple of weeks."
"And...?"
Dean shrugs.
"Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kind of sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?"
"Dean told her," I say.
Sam turns back to me. Shocked. I nod. He turns back to Dean. "You told her, the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything?" Dean says nothing. "Dean!"
"Yeah. Looks like." Dean puts his foot down and we speed along. So I guess that conversation is over.
We go to the local newspaper office. People seem a little angry about…something. The two guys leave, and, oh there she is. Cassie. She looks straight at Dean. We all walk over.
"Dean," she says.
"Hey Cassie."
They just stare at each other.
Dean eventually clears this throat. "You remember my sister, Jane," he says, nodding down to me.
I smile.
"Yeah," says Cassie. "Hi."
"Hi," I say.
"And this is our brother, Sam."
They smile at each other.
"Sorry bout your dad," says Dean.
"Yeah. Me too."
Cassie takes us back to her mom's place. She offers to make us tea and we're all too awkward to say no. Besides, I think Cassie just wants something to do. She comes in with the tray to the living room.
"My mother's in pretty bad shape," says Cassie. "I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad."
"Why?" asks Dean.
"He was scared. He was seeing things," Cassie says as she pours the tea.
"Like what?"
"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him."
"A truck. Who was the driver?" asks Sam.
She hands us each a cup of tea. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big."
"Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?"
I sip my tea. It's not terrible. Dean puts his down without trying it.
"He sold cars," says Cassie. "Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car...leading right to the edge, where he went over…" she lowers her head. "One set of tracks. His."
"The first was a friend of your fathers?" asks Dean.
"Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.'"
"Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"
"No."
"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?"
"When you say it aloud like that...listen, I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff...or whatever it is you guys are into."
Dean scoffs. "Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."
"Oh, and you said I was brainwashed," I add.
Cassie shakes her head once. "That was then. I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you."
The door opens and a woman comes in. Sam and Dean stand up and I follow suit.
"Mom. Where have you been I was so..." Cassie starts.
"I had no idea you'd invited friends over," says her mom.
"Mom, this is Dean, a...friend of mine from... college. His sister Jane, and brother Sam."
"Well I won't interrupt you."
"Mrs Robinson," says Dean. "We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?"
"I'm really not up for that right now." She leaves the room.
We go back to the hotel and Sam and Dean are putting on their fancy insurance suits.
"I'll say this for her, she's fearless," says Sam.
"Mm-hmm," Dean answers, fixing his tie in the mirror.
"Bet she kicked your ass a couple times."
"Oh she definitely did," I say. "She-"
Dean loudly clears his throat. I stop. Sam laughs a little.
"What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the Same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away. It's just a...just an interesting observation in a...you know...observationally interesting way."
"You think we might have more pressing issues here?" asks Dean.
"No," I say, grinning at Dean.
He messes up my hair. "Hey!"
"You're staying, you know that, right?" Dean asks me.
I just glare at him.
"I won't sign off on your math work unless you get it done today," Dean warns.
"Uh huh," I say. "I've heard that before."
"I'm serious, Jane."
"I think you're seriously in love with Cassie."
Dean glares at me. "Sam lied."
I frown. "Sam didn't tell me. I'm not an idiot, Dean."
Sam laughs. "Maybe you can tell you after this?"
"Kiss and make up?" I offer.
Dean stares at both of us. "Killer truck!" he says.
"Hey," says Sam, "if we're hitting a nerve."
Dean turns to the door. "Let's go."
Sam and I laugh. I lock the door behind them.
There's the special knock at the door hours later. I go and unlatch it.
"Where's Dean?" I ask Sam.
"With Cassie," Sam says with a smile and closes the door behind him.
"Ah…so he did kiss and make up?"
"We'll see," says Sam.
Dean doesn't come back before I go to sleep. Sam gets us pizza and we watch some weird movie that's on TV about chefs.
Part of me is grateful that Dean doesn't come home, I take his bed. And Sam takes his own. I sleep deeper than I have in ages that Sam has to shake me awake in the morning.
"Jane!" he says.
I open my eyes. "Mmm?"
"You need to get up, the mayor's dead."
I sit up. "What?"
"I was listening to the police scanner, they found his body early this morning. Let's go."
I manage to swing my legs out bed and notice that Sam is already dressed. How long has been up? I quickly brush my teeth and hair and get dressed before Sam drags me to the car.
"I called Dean," he says as we drive. "He's going to meet us there."
"Where was he?"
"We'll find out."
Sam parks the car and I have to linger there as Sam says that cops won't talk with me there. I don't bother to argue. Snow starts to fall and I wrap my arms around me.
I see Dean and wave, he waves back, but goes straight to Sam talking to the cop. Thankfully the cop leaves and I jog over to my brothers.
"Where were you last night?" Sam asks Dean. "You didn't make it back to the hotel."
"Well..." Dean says but trails off.
"I'm guessing you guys worked things out?"
"We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?"
"Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over."
"Something like a truck?"
"Yep."
"Tracks?"
"Nope."
"Ghost truck," I say. "That's kind of cool…and creepy."
"What was the Mayor doing here anyway?" asks Dean.
"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago," says Sam.
"But he's white, he doesn't fit the pattern."
"Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit either."
"Angry ghost truck doesn't discriminate on people or roads?" I offer.
"I think you need to talk to Cassie," Sam says with a smile.
"Can I come?"
Sam makes a face at Dean.
"What?" I ask.
"I got this, Munch," says Dean.
"We need to check some records," says Sam to me.
Sam and I go to the courthouse to check some records. It's boring as all hell. But thankfully the front desk guy also thinks so and doesn't even bat an eye when Sam and I ask to see the housing records. We find the records pretty easily. Plus there's tons of papers on the Dorian land and the house. Sam calls Dean to let him know.
"Ok, the courthouse records show that Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family for, like, 150 years," says Sam. "Yeah," he answers to Dean.
"What's he saying?" I ask.
Sam waves an arm at me shushing me. "What?" he asks.
"Well I pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place, it must've been in bad shape when the Mayor bought…The first thing he did was bulldoze the place….Ahhh," Sam says, looking for the date, I heard Dean down the phone. I check my nails. Sam pouts at me. "The 3rd of last month," he says to the phone once he finds it.
We're barely back at the hotel at night when Sam's phone rings. Cassie's seen the truck. Sam and I rush over. Cassie's Mom is there too, and she seems just as scared as Cassie. Sam makes Cassie a cup of tea, which is very domestic of him. I wonder briefly if he learned that from living with Jess. But I try not to linger on that thought. Dean sits next to Cassie. And they could almost actually be a couple.
"Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that," Cassie says to Sam about the tea.
"You didn't see who was driving the truck?" asks Sam.
"It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?"
"Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first," says Sam.
"Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died?" says Dean.
Mrs Robinson is shaking.
"Mom?" asks Cassie.
"Oh," says Mrs Robinson. "Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing."
"Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck," says Dean. "What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok? Your daughter could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it."
"Dean," Cassie warns.
"Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck," says Mrs Robinson.
"Did he know who it belonged to?" asks Sam.
"He thought he did."
"Who?" I ask.
"Cyrus," Mrs Robinson says, fighting back tears. "A man named Cyrus."
Dean reaches into his bag and pulls out a newspaper article. "Is this Cyrus?" he asks, handing her the newspaper.
"Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago," says Mrs Robinson.
"Died?" I ask. "The newspaper said he was missing."
"How do you know he died?" asks Dean.
"We were all very young," Mrs Robinson explains. "I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin...in secret of course. Inter-racial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening."
"The murder," says Sam.
"There were rumours. People of colour disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were g*n be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention."
"And Cyrus?" asks Dean.
Mrs Robinson cries. "The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practising in there. They all died."
"Oh my god…" I say.
"Did the attacks stop after that?" asks Sam.
"No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."
"Why didn't you call the cops?" asks Dean.
"This was forty years ago," Mrs Robinson says through tears, but bad. "He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years."
"And now all three are gone," says Sam.
"And the Mayor," I say.
"He said that you of all people would know he is not a racist," says Dean. "Why would he say that?"
"He was a good man," says Mrs Robinson. "He was a young Deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he...he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done."
"Why didn't you tell me?" asks Cassie.
"I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect."
"Yes there is," says Dean. He looks at Cassie.
Sam drags me outside to the car to give Dean and the Robinson's 'privacy'.
"Why do they need privacy?" I ask as we've been waiting outside for a while. Sam's leaning on the car and I'm sitting on the hood.
"Sometimes people just want family around," says Sam.
"Dean's not their family," I say.
Sam shrugs. "It's complicated."
"Are Dean and Cassie getting back together?"
Sam pauses but then keeps walking. "I don't know."
"So, no?"
"It's none of your business."
"Is it your business?"
"No."
"Do you care?"
Sam huffs. "Do you always ask so many questions?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Do I?"
"Haha," Sam says flatly. He leans against the car, and I slide up to sit on the bonnet.
"What are they talking about in there?" I ask looking up at the house.
"Probably Cyrus."
"Why?"
"Jane."
"What?"
"The questions."
"So-rry," I say in a sing-song voice. "Is Cyrus haunting the town?"
Dean comes out of the house and walks down to us. He paces a little.
"Ah, my life was so simple," says Sam. "Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms."
"Well I guess we saved you from a boring existence," Dean says.
"You're welcome," I say.
"Occasionally I miss boring," says Sam.
"So this killer truck," says Dean.
"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'. Ahhh"
Dean laughs a little. "Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years." He leans on the car to my right.
"What woke him up then?" I ask.
"The construction on his house. Or the destruction," says Dean.
"Right," says Sam. "Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Like that theatre in Illinois, ya know?"
"And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved."
"So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood."
"Yeah I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway."
"I'm guessing lots of revenge and thoughts of killing," I say.
"Helpful, thank you," says Dean.
I grin at him.
"You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp right?" says Sam.
Dean smiles at Sam.
"Man," says Sam.
"You said it."
"Yeah."
Cassie comes down from the house and Dean stands up again and goes to her.
"Hey," says Dean.
"Hey. She's asleep. Now what?" asks Cassie.
"Well you should stay put and look after her... and we'll be back. Don't leave the house."
Cassie smiles. "Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it."
Dean glances back to Sam and I. Sam grins.
"What?" I whisper.
Sam shakes his head.
"Don't leave the house please?" Dean mumbles to Cassie.
Then they kiss. Ew. And then, they keep going.
"Sam, make them stop," I say.
Sam goes over to them and clears his throat. Dean and Cassie keep kissing and Dean holds up a finger to Sam to wait.
Finally, Dean stops and turns to the car. "You guys coming or what?"
We go to farm and Dean has a tractor from some guy that Cassie knows. Sam wades into the water and finds the truck easily. Thankfully the water isn't too deep. I grab the hook and pass it out to Sam, only getting one foot wet. Score. When Sam gets the hook on he calls out to Dean to back up the tractor. The truck starts pulling up from the water. It's bigger than I was expecting.
"All right, I can see why that would be freaky coming after you," I say to Sam. "It's not a friendly looking truck."
"Also the whole, no driver thing," says Sam.
I shrug. "Yeah. That too."
"All right. A little more," Sam calls up to Dean. "Little more. All right, stop."
Dean turns off the tractor and jumps down.
"Nice."
Dean goes to our car. "Hell yeah."
"Now I know what she sees in you," Sam says.
"What?" asks Dean rummaging in the trunk.
"Come on man, you can admit it. You're still in love with her."
"He is?" I ask.
"Sure."
"Ahh, can we focus please?" says Dean.
"I'm just saying Dean," says Sam.
"Hold that," Dean says handing Sam something.
"All right. What am I getting?"
"Gas. Flashlight..."
"Got it. got it."
"Ok, let's get this done."
"So you can get back to Cassie?" I ask.
Sam laughs. Dean glares at him.
"All right," says Sam.
"Got it?" Dean says, slamming the trunk.
We go over to the truck. Sam and Dean look at each other.
"Well one of you need to open it," I say from behind them.
Dean opens the door and a body falls out. I take a breath.
"All right let's get to it," says Dean.
We salt him, gas him, and burn him.
"Think that'll do it?" asks Sam.
Headlights come on. I look. It's the truck. I look over, yeah it's still where Dean pulled it out. Oh great. Ghost truck. The engine revs.
"I guess not," says Dean.
"So burning the body had no effect?" asks Sam.
"Sure it did. Now it's really pissed."
"But Cyrus' ghost is gone, right Dean?"
Dean walks towards the car. "Apparently not the part that's fused with the truck."
"Where you going?"
"Going for a little ride."
"Dean, no!" I yell.
"What?" asks Sam.
"Gonna lead that thing away. That piece of crap," Dean says nodding to the actual truck, "you gotta burn it."
"How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck Dean?"
"I don't know. Figure something out."
Dean throws Sam a bag that he catches. "Figure something out?"
Dean's already in the car and he takes off. The truck goes after him. Sam grabs my arm and we hide until they've both gone.
"Got any fireworks or something?" I ask Sam.
"No."
"Active volcanoes nearby?"
Sam huffs.
"I really don't know, Sam," I say.
Sam opens the bag, and the flashlight.
"What are you looking for?" I ask.
Sam's phone rings. He hands it to me. I open it and put it on speaker near his head.
"Hey, you gotta give me a minute," Sam says.
"I don't have a minute. What are we doing?"
"Ahh. Let me get back to you," Sam says, then grabs the phone out of my hand and shuts it.
"Sam!" I yell at him.
"Jane. Shut it," says Sam. Then he thinks of something. "Call Cassie for me."
"What?"
"Cassie. Call her. Now."
I roll my eyes but find her number and call. I hold the phone up to Sam again.
"Hello?" says Cassie.
"Hey Cassie? Hey, it's Sam, I need some information and it has to be exactly right."
"Well this should be interesting," I mumble.
Sam rolls his eyes at me but asks Cassie all sorts of slightly odd questions. About the Church that Cyrus burned. Charming. Sam fiddles with the map. Then tells me to hang up and call Dean again.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Just-" Sam starts to argue but hears me hold the phone out, already calling Dean.
"All right, Dean?"
"This better be good," Dean says on the phone. Sounding very stressed.
"Where are you?"
"In the middle of no where with a killer truck on my ass! It's like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus."
"Listen to me, this is important. I have to know exactly where you are."
"Decatur road, about two miles off the highway."
"Ok. Headed East?"
"Yes!" There's bang down the phone. "You son of a bitch!"
Sam looks at the map, his finger tracing along, "Ok, ahhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right…You make the turn?"
"Yeah I made the turn! You need to move this thing along a little faster."
"All right, you see a road up ahead?"
"No! Wait. No, yes, I see it."
"Ok, Turn left."
"Wha...?" I hear the tyres screech on the road down the phone. "All right, now what?"
"You need to go seven tenths of a mile and then stop."
"Stop?"
"Exactly seven tenths Dean."
"Seven tenths, seven tenths," Dean mumbles down the phone. Then it goes quiet.
"Sam, are you sure…" I start but trail off.
"Dean, You still there?" Sam asks.
"Yeah," says Dean.
"What's happening?"
"It's just staring at me, what do I do?"
"Just what you are doing, bringing it to you."
"Wha...come on come on," Dean says and then it goes quiet.
"Dean?" I ask, turning the phone to myself.
"You still there? Dean?" asks Sam.
"Where'd it go?" asks Dean.
"Dean, you're where the church was."
"What church?"
"The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids."
"There's not a whole lot left."
"Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it."
"Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?" Dean yells.
"Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me."
Dean hangs up.
"You did all that on a hunch?" I yell at Sam, throwing his phone at him.
He catches it and stares at me.
As we're driving away from the town, Dean's quiet. And Sam's driving. Which is a real novelty. But also means I have no choice but to be in the back. Sam is easy to convince to move. Dean is impossible.
"I like her," Sam says.
"Yeah."
"You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?"
I want to ask what he means by putting things on hold. But I decide against it. Dean just puts his sunglasses on. "Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?" Dean slouches down.
I lean back in my seat. "Seat hog."