by Amelia Esla
"We gotta go, dude," Dean breathed. Sam agreed without hesitation. They turned to see Megan, holding Sam's handgun awkwardly in her hand like she was afraid of it, which, to be fair, she was.
"What's wrong? Why are we leaving?"
Sam clenched his jaw. "There are a lot of them. It's not safe here anymore." He snatched his gun from her and replaced it with the knife he was holding. There was no point in being quiet anymore; somehow they bad managed to draw all the zombies in the area to them. It doesn't matter...we just have to get out of here...
The three of them quickly packed, grabbing what they could easily find and leaving the rest. Sam and Megan stayed silent as they followed Dean through the back door.
The fences had kept the zombies out of the backyard, but they knew what to except as soon as they made it out onto the street. Instead, they decided to go from yard to yard, climbing over fences and avoiding the street entirely. The tactic seemed to help- they saw very few zombies, and the ones they saw they could easily outrun to the next fence.
Megan was having difficulty keeping up with the hunters, who were much more athletic than she was. She hadn't run this far and this fast since high school, and there weren't fences on the track to jump over.
After a half a dozen houses or so, they reached the end of the street. Jumping over the last fence would mean jumping into the street, right into the ever growing horde.
Zombies were loud, so where there were several zombies, there were about to be a lot more.
"What do we do?" Sam asked, mostly to Dean. Dean racked his mind for ideas. He looked over at the Sam and Megan, who were both staring at him expectantly. What the hell are you doing, Dean? Dean scolded himself. They're counting on you. Do your damn job! Dean's inner thoughts, he realized, sounded a lot like his father's voice.
"Um, okay. So we need to get past that horde without them noticing us," he spoke his thoughts out loud to buy some time. "So... so we just have to disguise ourselves!"
"As what, trees?" Sam questioned.
Dean frowned. "Well, as zombies. We gotta blend in."
Sam and Megan both stared at him, confused. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Megan's head and she understood what Dean was suggesting. "Oh no... No I'm not doing that, Dean. You're crazy..."
"Do what?" Sam still didn't get it.
Dean bit his bottom lip. "We go back to one of the yards with a stray zombie and kill it. And then... use it to disguise our smell."
"What? Are you kidding? That's all you got?"
"Well, do you have a better suggestion, Samantha?" Dean shot back. "Come on, we don't got all day!"
…
"This is so disgusting," Megan covered her mouth and nose as Dean cut into the zombie they had found. Its guts spilled out in gross pinkish clumps.
Dean tilted his head and swallowed hard. "Alright...let's get this over with."
Megan puked.
The three of them reached into the dead body, picking up blood and other things they didn't want to think about, and smeared it across their face, clothes, and exposed skin.
"I'd rather get eaten, I think," Megan complained when they were done.
"Let's just go," Dean said. They made it back to the last fence and climbed over. As they had expected, there were more zombies than they had wished to count, spread out as far as they could see. They all froze as the nearest zombie turned towards them.
Megan thought her heart was going to explode right then and there as it got closer. She wanted to run, she started to, but Dean grabbed her arm tightly and held her in place. Their eyes met and it was clear what he meant- Stay still, damn it.
Against her better judgment, she did as she was told. The zombie was right next to her now. This is it... she thought, but she didn't do anything. She breathed out a sigh of relief when it continued past her, then past Dean, and finally past Sam. Dean was right! It worked!
When Dean let go of her arm, Megan realized that she had also been holding on to his. She let go, and saw that her nails had made crescent shaped marks on his wrist, and she had actually scratched off some skin. She wanted to apologize, but they had to stay quiet- zombies didn't talk.
Sam took the lead this time, walking with a slow and ragged pace. He tried to imagine he was someplace else, and that terrible smell wasn't from him. I'll never feel clean again.
Dean didn't like being in the middle. Sam was vulnerable in front, and Megan was vulnerable in the back. But if he made the sudden movements necessary to change that, it would alert the zombies around them.
It seemed like it took an hour to get down the street, and maybe it did. But when they got there, they realized they had a lot longer to go. The next street had just as many dead on it. How did they all get here? What drew them over here? Dean knew the answer- demons. They had obviously found them earlier, and this is their new tactic to draw them out from hiding. And don't forget the shape shifter... It seemed that something was drawing evil right to them- but what would do that?
Two blocks down, the horde had finally thinned out. They turned the corner and were relieved to see empty streets again. They had left the neighborhood, and ended up right next to a strip mall. There were about twelve stores in all, and the parking lot was deserted with the exception of four empty cars.
As good a place as any to stay.
"Fine, but we need to wash this off first," Megan started to wipe off the blood and guts.
"I doubt we find any running water..." Sam glanced around until he spotted something. "Wait, I think there's a lake or something behind that building."
They walked through the parking lot to the supposed lake. Low and behold, there was a small man made pond behind it, surrounded by trees. "Oh, thank god. Our luck has finally turned around." Megan practically sprinted to the water and ran in, knee deep.
The boys followed, taking off their shirts and throwing them aside into a gross, bloody lump. Megan looked down at her own clothes. "One of these stores has to have some clean clothes, right?"
Half an hour later, Megan came back to the lake where Dean and Sam had stayed at, cleaning up. She was dry and mostly clean, although her hair was a mess, and wearing a new green tank-top and jean shorts, along with black sneakers. "I hope these are your size," She handed them a stack of clothes each: jeans, a t-shirt, socks and shoes in each.
"Thanks," They both changed quickly. "I've never appreciated a washer and dryer this much before," Sam laughed.
Everyone was silent until Dean spoke. "We can't stay here. The horde could easily move this way." He didn't mention it, but he wanted to get far away from this area- he still didn't know what was drawing all these monsters toward them.
"But this place is great!" Megan argued. "There are lots of different buildings and they all have a lot of useful stuff."
Sam sighed. "I know, but Dean's right. It's not safe here."
Megan nodded, defeated. "I guess you're right. But we should at least look around and get some supplies. We left a lot of stuff back at the house."
"Fine," Dean agreed. "You got an hour to find whatever and pack it. Then we're leaving."
...
"Guys, I got great news!" Dean was beaming when Sam and Megan retuned. He held up a big red plastic jug. "In the auto repair shop across the street, I found like 6 of these babies, all full of gas."
Sam grinned. "So no more walking?'
"Nope. All I gotta do is hotwire one of those cars out there and we'll be set."
Other than Deans find, Megan brought a backpack full of clothes and water bottles. Sam found some cans of food and at least 7 or 8 jars of peanut butter. "What? It has a lot of protein..." he muttered at Dean's skeptical look.
They threw their stuff in the trunk of a beat up Ford and Dean hotwired it. Sam and Megan clapped and cheered when the car started. Dean got out of the car and pat the top of it. "It's not my baby, but it'll do..."
"Where to now?" Megan asked, climbing into the back seat.
Sam plopped down into the pass
enger seat as Dean slid back in behind the wheel. He brushed his fingers across the leather. "I don't know. As far as these 6 buckets will take us."
Once again, the Winchester brothers were back on the road.
10- On the Road Again
3 months later
Together, Dean, Sam, and Megan made a pretty good team. Right away they had clicked, understood each other, and most importantly: trusted each other.
For three months they were on the road. They spent most of it looking for gas and they had to switch cars a few times, but they managed.
Everything went fine for three months. But then, something changed.
"You bitch," Dean laughed as Megan pulled his card out of the deck that had been their entertainment since they found it a week ago. It was missing a card or two, but they didn't mind. It was better than anything else they had. "How the hell are you doing that?"
Megan smirked and put her finger up to her lips. "A good magician never reveals her secret," She stuck out her tongue at him when he rolled his eyes.
They were hauled up in the back of a run-down minivan- the only working car they had found in almost a month, (much to Dean's dismay.) It was Sam's turn to drive, which was a much easier job now that they had no idea where they were going. Their plan was that at some point they would come across some living humans. So far, nada.
"Alright, alright. Give it here," Dean reached for the deck but Megan pulled it out of his grasp. "Hey! I'm trying to show you a trick,"
"You know card tricks?" Megan asked skeptically, shuffling the cards as she spoke. She was a great card player, always had been. She didn't play very often because she got so competitive, but when she did she really enjoyed herself. She was pleasantly surprised when both Sam and Dean were decent players themselves.
Dean snatched the cards from her hand. "Of course. I mean, I think I remember some... Sam had a magic trick stage when he was like 8 or 9." Dean smiled, remembering back to the 'good-old days.' "He begged me to teach him some tricks. I actually had to go to the library and read up on how to do them."
Sam laughed from up front. "I remember that. You bought me a trick deck and a little handbook with a bunch of tricks in it for my ninth birthday."
"Yeah, and you used it for like, a week before getting bored." Dean rolled his eyes. "But every once in a while, you'd ask me to show you another trick, so I had to remember them."
Megan's eyes flickered between the brothers she had gotten to know so well. She loved to hear stories about them when they were younger, if for no other reason than to see that genuine smile on Dean's face. Not very many things other than Sam could put it there. She could tell how close they must have been. She thought back to her own brother, but while she loved him dearly, their relationship would never compare to Dean and Sam's.
"Alright, then. Show me one of your tricks." She grinned.
Dean was preparing the cards when the car came to an abrupt halt. "What the hell, Sam?"
Sam ignored Dean's complaint. "Look! At the sign." He pointed to a cardboard sign nailed onto a wooden post that was stuck into the side of the hallway.
The sign read: ALL SURVIVORS WELCOME. FOLLOW THE SIGNS.
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered as he read the sign. "Maybe there are people out there, after all."
"Are they friendly?" Megan wondered.
"Seem to be. Should we check it out?" Sam offered.
Dean shrugged. "Might as well. They might not even be around anymore."
All in agreement, Sam drove off, following the cardboard signs.
...
It was a long drive, but it was nothing compared to the cross-country road trips Sam and Dean had in the past. Megan, however, wasn't as well-equipped for these things, and fell asleep shortly after Dean admitted he couldn't remember the trick.
Sam was still driving, even though Dean had offered to take over. "It's cool. I'm not tired, and it's kind of relaxing to drive."
Sam glanced up at the mirror to see the back seat. Dean was sitting in the middle seat. He was tapping his fingers and humming Metallica, which was weird because he usually did that when he was nervous. He had no reason to be now, unless he was truly worried about the survivors' camp. That doesn't really seem like Dean...
Megan was sound asleep; her head slumped on Dean's shoulder. She looked oddly peaceful, like she was dreaming about home.
Sam smiled to himself as he saw the two of them together. He didn't see his brother connect with people very often- except for physically- and it was a nice change to see Megan and him so close. Of course, Dean would kill him if he ever said that out loud.
Sam looked back to the road, eyes searching for another sign. A total of 15 signs so far had led them off the highway and into another small, deserted town in Rhode Island. "Dean," he tried to quietly get his brothers attention. "Dean, look,"
Dean looked where Sam pointed: another sign. This one was larger, and said in big letters, "WELCOME!" It was nailed onto the front door of a large church.
Sam took a deep breath. "You ready?"
Dean nodded and looked down at Megan. He reached over with his left hand to gently shake her from her sleep. She sat up and shifted over, yawning. "Sorry- where are we?"
Sam motioned to the church. "We're here."
...
Sam and Dean hopped out of the car. They went first, scanning the surrounding area for anything suspicious. When they were sure it was clear, they motioned to Megan.
Megan climbed out next with her .44 Magnum revolver, the only gun she could really use. Dean taught her everything he knew about it, and took her out to practice. She felt comfortable with it, safer, even if she had never shot anything living with it. And I'd like to keep it that way.
They were approaching the door of the church when it swung open, revealing a young blonde woman. She wore thin black jeans and a black tank top. A gold cross hung around her neck, glistening in the sunlight. They lowered their guns. "Welcome, survivors! You have been saved!"
11- Houses of the Holy
Gloria Sidnick never considered herself a religious person. The church didn't exactly approve of her lifestyle. But when the world ended, she was forced to change her mind.
She was alone, and had nowhere to go. The church down the street was excepting people just like her, so that's where she went.
While she was there, she didn't exactly "find God," but she did befriend one of the priests who ran the church: Father Gregory. He was a good man; young and vibrant. He kept the church together, even as things outside got worse.
At first, people lived in their houses as usual, and would come to the church for food and supplies. But as the police and other officials began to disperse, and life as they knew it crumbled, people stayed at the church instead. The streets were no longer safe, but Father Gregory was always welcoming.
They started out with about 30 members staying at the church, but those with family elsewhere left shortly after. Soon, there were a mere 8 of them, including Father Gregory.
Life in the church went on, and it went well. That is- until Father Gregory died. One unfortunate night, 7 armed men broke in and held guns to their heads. They demanded the supplies and food that the church had collected. Most members readily agreed, scared out of their minds. But Father Gregory would not stand for it. He stood up to them, and welcomed them to stay.
"Society may have fallen, but there are still good men out there. Stay here, with us. We can work together!"
The leader of the group was a tall muscular man with a strange tattoo on his arm. It was a triangle with a line cutting through it, and four more lines sprouting from the intersections. He listened to Father Gregory's plea as if it was amusing, and then he raised his gun and shot him down. They left with all the supplies.
The 7 remaining members had given up all hope. Then, one night, as Gloria sat in one of the pews, she saw something that would change her mind. The whole room began to shake, as if the Earth itself was ripping open beneath her. Stat
ues still standing in the sanctuary shattered on the ground. Beside her, a pot of long-dead flowers fell off the pedestal and crashed onto the floor. She stood, trying to make sense of what was happening. Suddenly, she heard a strange whistling sound come from behind her. She turned frantically to see what it was. At first, it seemed to just be light: pure, white, radiant light. But as she looked harder, she realized what she was seeing. An angel.
This angel spoke God's word. She had been chosen for redemption. He wanted her to help God smite the evil, and rid the Earth of their influence.
As she later found out, the angel would give her signs when someone with evil in the hearts was near. It was her job to take care of them.
She explained her gift and her mission to the other members. Four readily agreed to help her with this heavenly task, but two others left that night.
Over the months that followed, they put up signs, welcoming survivors to their church. When they arrived, Gloria waited for the sign. If they were good people, they stayed with them in the church. If they were bad- they were killed.
So when three new survivors showed up at their doorstep, Gloria welcomed them with open arms, and waited for the sign.
...
Dean didn't like it. He was skeptical about this church the moment they walked in. There was something off about it, and he was determined to figure out what it was.
Sam and Megan were obviously oblivious to it. Dean could forgive Megan for not having a hunter's instinct, but Sam should've known better.
The blonde woman who had greeted them, Gloria, gave them a tour of the church. It was quite large, and even though there must have been over a dozen people living in it, there was plenty of room. Hallways shot off from the nave leading to several rooms that used to be offices and RE classrooms. What used to be in them was cleared out and replaced with mattresses, bags, and boxes. Dean was actually impressed with their inventory of supplies. They must have ransacked all that was left of the town.
Megan had started to get used to life on the road, but looking around at the church, she realized a car could never compare to a real home, and this church was as close as they were going to get.
