Dean paid for lunch and turned towards Garth. He looked at the hunter and shook his head.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?”
“I thought I would fit in better,” the skinny hunter replied. He was dressed in ragged shorts, a t-shirt cut off at the rib cage, ragged tennis shoes, and a Panama style straw hat.
“We’re going our separate ways, Garth. If we’re tourists, we sure wouldn’t be with a native,” the hunter smirked.
“That’s okay. I’m renting a place in Ghost Town. See ya there.”
The brothers watched Garth get into his vehicle and drive towards Hwy 170. Sam shook his head and turned towards his older brother.
“Let’s see what we’re getting into, Dean.”
The boys drove in the same direction as Garth. They passed a sign that said ‘Terlingua Ghost Town.’ Driving a few miles they saw a cemetery on the left and stopped.
Sam had a camera he had dug out of the trunk, claiming he needed to look like a tourist. The sign said the cemetery was a historical site. Several of the graves looked vandalized.
“Shit!” Dean exclaimed. “The bodies are covered with rocks. There are no dug graves here. Garth just removed the rocks and salted and burned.”
Sam just stood looking at the horrible mess in the cemetery. He turned towards his brother, “I don’t think we should be in here right now, man.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
They passed a giant dragonfly made out of machine parts. Dean slowed down and stared as he drove pass. Sam couldn’t think of anything to say when he looked at it.
Soon, they saw a number or ramshackle shacks and rock buildings going up the side of a mountain. There were gravel trails laid out. A sign said that one could tour but don’t bother the natives.
They pulled into a strip mall. A huge gift shop, a sign for a hotel that was a bar and a theater called the ‘Starlight’ made up the mall. Dean parked the Impala and the two men walked up rock steps to the wooden platform that made up the sidewalk.
They saw two men sitting on a bench with a six pack between them. They were talking about the mayor being moved from the gift shop to the Starlight. One complained that the Starlight wasn’t always open and the attraction was a waste of time in the theater. The older man responded that the mayor loved the theater and his beer so it was the perfect spot for him.
Sam couldn’t resist, “Is the mayor dead?”
“Yup, he died last year and the taxidermist stuffed him.”
“What the hell?” Dean whispered.
“That’s illegal, Dean.”
“You think?” was the older Winchester’s come-back.
The hunters walked towards the theater. There was a covered opening and two German shepherds were asleep in it. The dogs looked at the two brothers but neither moved.
Sam picked the lock and they eased into the theater, stepping over the dogs. It was dark inside. They could barely see.
“Where in the hell would you put a stuffed mayor?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know, Dean. On one of the benches?” Sam answered.
Dean walked down the aisle towards the stage. He climbed up on the platform and began to look around. Sam searched the auditorium part of the theater. Dean was backing up across the stage turning on a small flashlight he had put in his pocket earlier. He backed into something and turned, looking up as he did.
Sam heard his brother scream and the words, “Son of a bitch!”
Dean was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled, and the flashlight on the column. At the top of the column was a stuffed goat, head raised high, with a beer bottle in its mouth.
Sam starting laughing. Dean stared at him.
“It’s not funny, Sammy.”
“Hell, yes it is, Dean. You just met the mayor of Ghost Town.”