TWENTY-FOUR

The ragtag group walked in silence. Dean was clearly pissed. Sam was trying to figure out if there was any other way to get Walter to translate the last pages of the scroll.

Julia glared at the nape of Dean’s neck.

He turned around.

“You’re burning a hole in my head, sweet-stuff. Look somewhere else.”

Julia shot Dean a look of distaste.

On the outskirts of Gary they spotted a lone diner on a corner. It was oblong, all glass windows and steel. The rest of the area was basically empty gravel lots.

They headed for the diner. Inside, a Formica countertop ran the length of the narrow restaurant. Each table had an individual jukebox and a window view. Sam could see two waitresses, both of whom wore yellow dresses with frilly white aprons.

Three steel workers made a rowdy group, cracking jokes at a corner table. Clearly they had just come off the night shift at one of the mills.

Walter and Julia slid onto the benches at one of the tables, while Sam and Dean headed for the men’s room.

“I’ve had enough of the goon suits. Now that we’re back in the real America, I’m putting my jeans on,” Dean said as he unbuttoned.

“Good thinkin’ Palin,” Sam said as he too began to undress.

Walter and Julia were speaking in hushed tones when Dean and Sam reappeared. They broke off as the brothers approached. Four cups of coffee steamed in front of them. Dean sat down next to Julia and leaned across her, essentially putting his armpit in her face.

“Excuse me, got to get the sugar.” Dean grabbed at the sugar shaker. Julia bristled.

“Okay. First things first,” Walter said, “you don’t leave without us. We all worked to get the scroll. None of us can lay claim over the others.”

Dean huffed. “Walter, we came a long way for this—”

“So did we,” Julia insisted.

Just then a heavy-set woman with a large beehive hairdo sashayed up. She slid menus onto the table.

“Hi there. I’m Marge. I own this place. Let me know if you need anyth—”

She trailed off as her eye lit on something outside the diner. Dean followed her gaze out of the window and clocked the deserted lot across the street. Picking their way over the gravel were Eisheth and her cronies, among them several people in Metropolitan Museum of Art uniforms.

“Incoming,” Dean said quietly. He got up and pulled a shotgun from Sam’s duffel bag.

“Young man, shotguns are not allowed in my restaurant,” Marge chided.

“Listen Marge,” Dean said firmly, “out there is a group of very dangerous people. So I apologize if your place gets a little messy.”

The steel workers in the corner got up to leave.

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” Dean warned them, glancing over his shoulder. He had the shotgun trained on Eisheth.

“Buddy, what the hell you doing with that rifle?” one of the steel workers demanded.

“Believe me, it’s safer in here,” Dean said.

Julia pushed Walter toward the kitchen. “Dad, get the salt.”

A waitress walked out with a couple of plates of eggs. Catching sight of the shotgun, she promptly spun on her heel and headed back into the kitchen.

“Barricade any doors in the back too,” Dean called after Walter.

Ignoring Dean’s warning, the steel workers walked out of the door onto the sidewalk. Not two seconds later they were attacked by Eisheth’s group.

A little girl in a Catholic school uniform approached the first steel worker. She kneed him in the groin. When he stumbled and fell to the ground, she smiled sweetly, then slit his throat with a jagged rock.

The other two men tried to run. A uniformed Met worker shot out his hand and grabbed one of them by the throat. The demon’s strength meant the guy was choked to death in seconds. The third man managed to escape.

Eisheth stood on the sidewalk, looking up at Sam and Dean. The thin strip of macadam that served as the parking lot was the only thing that separated them from her. That and the salt that Walter and Julia were spreading on the window sills.

“Game plan?” Sam asked.

Dean stared out at the waiting group of demons.

“We can stand and fight or make a run for it. Either option is probably a death wish. Though not for you — they’ll keep you alive.”

Sam looked solemn. He knew it was true. The demons wouldn’t hurt a hair on his head. For the rest of them, however, it was a different story.

Eisheth made the first move, but was thwarted by the Devil’s Trap Julia had hastily drawn in front of the glass doors.

“Aww, why don’t you come out and play Sammy?” she called plaintively. “I mean, we’re practically family. I never thought I would get to meet you—my husband’s favorite vessel.”

Julia looked at Sam with suspicion. “What does she mean by that?”

“Why, you don’t know? Sammy here has been chosen—”

Dean blasted Eisheth with a salt shotgun, sending her sailing through the air. She landed on her back, but it didn’t seem to faze her one bit.

“You can’t stay in there forever,” she said levelly.

She gave a signal and the demons attacked. The first wave came from a handful of demons crawling up onto the roof.

“Can they get through that?” Walter asked.

The creaking sound of ripping metal from above signified that indeed the demons could.

“What the hell is going on—they better not be taking off my roof!” Marge went behind the counter and pulled out her own shotgun. She let a couple of rounds loose at the ceiling, right below where the demons were trying to break in. “Damn, I just put a hole in my own roof.”

The first demon that dropped down into the diner was a woman of about Julia’s age. Her eyes flashed black as she sped toward Walter. Julia drop-kicked her, then tried to shoot her with her pistol. But the demon was too fast. She knocked Julia’s pistol away, and pounced on her. Julia twisted, grabbed the demon’s neck, and with a mighty kick threw her over her head.

The demon landed flat on her back. Julia crawled over to her pistol just as the demon attacked again. Julia turned and shot the woman. Black smoke poured out of her mouth and her body crumpled to the ground.

“Watch out!” Dean called to her. He spun and started unloading more rock salt bullets at the ceiling as another two demons dropped down onto the counter top. One kicked over the metal cake stand that displayed a cherry pie.

“Hey man, show some respect to the pies,” Dean shouted.

He shot the guy in the shoulder. Black smoke shot up and out of his mouth, disappearing into an air vent.

Outside, the rest of the demons looked like they were itching to join the fight.

Julia spun and drop-kicked another demon.

“How are we going to get out of here?” she cried.

They all heard the rumble at the same time. The cab of a large diesel eighteen-wheeler was barreling over the gravel lot toward the diner. Five demons were dispatched as the grill of the truck ran them over.

“Get out of the way!” Dean yelled.

The truck cab hit the front part of the diner. It tore open like tin foil. Inside the cab was the third steel worker.

“I know trouble when I see it. Get in!” he called.

Sam continued to shoot at Eisheth.

“Not the last you’ve seen of me, baby doll,” Eisheth purred.

Walter, Julia, Sam, and Dean scrambled onto the front of the cab.

“Not so fast.” Marge shot out her hand and grabbed Walter’s foot. Her eyes flashed black. “Someone needs to stay here and help me clean up this mess.”

Walter struggled to hold on to the truck’s hood.

The steel worker looked at his side mirror.

“We gotta roll. More are comin’ our way.”

Marge slashed and pulled on Walter’s ankle as Julia tugged at her father’s wrists. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean kept Eisheth and the others at bay.

“Dean, help!” Julia cried.

Dean twisted and shot Marge between the eyes. She rolled off the front of the cab and dropped to the ground. Black smoke poured out of her mouth.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted.

The driver punched the cab into reverse and swung wide, running over a couple more demons. As they perched on each side of the cab, Sam and Dean shot at the demons. The truck barreled off. Julia pulled her father into the cab.

“Thank you so much!” Julia exclaimed, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“My pleasure.” The steel worked introduced himself. “Name’s Mike. It looked like you needed some help. Once I saw what those things did to Benny and Jim, I knew I had to do something. I just gotta return this cab to the mill by nighttime.”

“No problem. Can you take us past Chicago?” Dean called.

The truck sped down the streets of Gary and then swung onto a two lane interstate highway.

With the horizon clear of demons, Sam and Dean ducked inside the cab.

“How do you think she found us?” Julia asked. “Wasn’t James supposed to be her bloodhound?”

“Dumb luck,” Dean said. “We should have headed the other way. She won’t find us again. We’re going to be long gone.” He was sure of it.

Mike let them off 200 miles west of Chicago, just before Davenport. Walter, Julia, Sam, and Dean got off at an unmarked exit ramp. They thanked Mike for saving their lives.

“So now what?” Julia asked.

Dean noticed that Julia had ripped her skirt and her blouse had lost buttons.

“You need to get yourself some demon-fighting clothes,” he commented. “Those things aren’t going to cut it anymore.”

The four of them walked up the road in the twilight. Soon they came upon a friendly looking motel where each room was an individual little house. A small café was attached to the office.

“I think I’m going to check in, then go to bed,” Walter said wearily.

“Me too,” Sam said. “Dean?”

“Going to stay up for a bit. Sort of jacked up.”

Dean headed toward the café.

“I’ll join you,” Julia said.

“Why don’t you freshen up first, sweetheart.” Dean suggested with a hint of spite.

Julia nodded and headed toward the motel office.

Dean and Sam stood in the gravel parking lot watching Walter and Julia.

“Ditching them went well.” Dean looked at his brother. “Now what?”

Sam shrugged. “Let’s sleep on it. Next thing we need to do is get the hell back home.”

“Any suggestions? Because I’m getting sort of tired of Pleasantville.”

“Let’s go back to Waubay, South Dakota, and hope Don has enough wherewithal to pick us up from there. I’ll go check us in.”

Dean noticed Julia standing in the doorway of her cottage. Moments later, Sam reappeared with two keys and threw one to Dean. He ducked inside his cabin.

Half an hour later, Dean lay on his bed. Sam had decided to grab some food after all. Dean was bored. There wasn’t a TV in the room, the only entertainment offered was a selection of black and white pamphlets explaining the local tourist attractions.

“Oh good, a milking museum,” Dean said to himself.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“It’s open, Sam.”

Julia appeared in the doorway. She had changed into a sweater and jeans and a pair of hiking boots. Dean wondered where she’d managed to find clean clothes.

“May I come in?”

Dean sat up. “Sure, yeah.”

Julia shut the door, and leaned against it.

“Need some company?” She smiled.

“Not usually.”

“That was some fight back there,” she said, and sat down beside him on the bed.

Dean shrugged. “I have a feeling you’ve seen it all before. So tell me, what do you and your father really specialize in? It has to be something scholarly. I know—lying and stealing, maybe even some money laundering thrown in for good measure. Anything to survive—right?”

“I have a feeling you and your brother do the same.”

“Maybe, but you’re as fake as silicone, baby. And I hate silicone. Ruins the moment, you know.”

Julia let out a small laugh.

“Sometimes I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She crept her hand closer to his. Dean looked down.

“Sweetheart, I’m tired. Anyway we can put this off until... say never?” Dean looked her in the eyes.

Julia didn’t seem to be putting on a front now. It had been a long time since Dean had spent this much time with a woman. The Apocalypse, Sam, Lucifer, it had all worn him down. He was on autopilot. Dean wondered whether he would wake up some day and his entire life would have been one bad dream.

“Maybe you like me so much because you know we are both always pretending to be someone else. I see myself in you.” Julia breathed shallowly. “Maybe you see yourself in me.”

“Wow, there are so many different ways I could take that.” Dean smiled. “But sorry, I don’t get close to people. Not in my line of work.”

“Me neither.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Why can’t you be nice to me?”

“Not my nature. I’m a hunter, I don’t get close. It becomes your weakness. It’s bad enough to hunt with family.”

Julia nodded. “I know how you feel. My mother died at the hands of something evil. My father swore to avenge her death. And he did. He was born into this life. He never knew anything different. My mother, however, she didn’t pick this. She had no idea. I was only a baby when she died. So my father took me with him. I studied with him. I grew up knowing about demons, monsters—”

“Everything that goes bump in the night.”

“Yeah. I guess. There are a lot of people like us. A whole group of people we work with. We meet up every month and pool our resources. You would be amazed what you can get done in groups. Demons sure, but vampires, easy to wipe out with a group of a hundred hunters.”

“Wait a minute, you know a hundred hunters?” Dean stopped caressing her thigh for a moment.

“Yup. So if you’re hunters and we’re hunters, why haven’t we heard of you?” Julia asked.

Dean shrugged. “My father taught us to be on our own. He always said other hunters are fine for some jobs. But in order to keep moving, best to be by yourselves.”

“I guess so. Still strange though. We have an entire network of people and you’ve never come up.” Julia cocked her head to the side, looking at Dean.

“Like I said, best to be on your own.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed. He grabbed Julia by the wrist and pulled her on top of him. He held her head in his hands. She stared into his eyes.

“Why do you need the scrolls?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“My father knew that he was destined to do something good for people. Then, when they started finding the Dead Sea Scrolls, he knew that he had to find the one scroll his mother always told him about. The ultimate battle plan for the war between good and evil. Hundreds of people have been waiting thousands of years for that scroll to appear. And your brother has it in his bag in a flour can.”

“Could be worse, I guess.” Dean shrugged.

“You really piss me off, you know that?”

“Yup.”

Dean gave her a long kiss. Her lithe body relaxed on top of his. He pulled her sweater up over her head, and ran his hands over her sinewy back. She quickly undid his belt buckle with one hand. Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed. He kissed her again.