Thursday, January 24, 2013
Desert Song Chapter Two
Sam dropped the water, grabbed his shotgun, and ran towards the sound of the shot he’d heard. Fifty feet down the boulder ridden canyon, he caught his foot between smaller rocks and left the ground as he fell. The shotgun hit the ground somewhere in front of him. Sam had heard a snap when he stepped between the rocks, and felt a large pain as he hit the ground and everything went black.
Dean lifted himself off the ground, his right leg throbbing. He winced as he picked up his shotgun. He looked at the man lying on the ground near him. A short time earlier, a large cat jumped him from behind. He’d felt its claws scrape down his leg. The hunter had fallen forward but had managed to hold on to his weapon. Dean rolled over and shot into the air at the large cat that was leaping onto him. It fell, dead, on top of him. The cat had been heavy and knocked the air out of him. Gasping for breath, he pushed the man off of him.
The skin walker was dead. Dean thought he’d heard his brother call his name. He called Sam’s name but heard no reply. He could feel blood oozing from the cuts on his leg. The man swore under his breath. The moon had gone behind some clouds. He looked up with some curiosity. Clouds in the desert? The hunter wondered how often it actually rained there.
His leg was hurting, but it didn’t seem to be pouring blood. He had to find Sam. His brother had the duffel with the first aid kit. The hunter looked for a large stick, or limb off some of the mesquite trees, he could use to help him walk with the injured leg. Finding nothing appropriate, Dean cursed again and headed in the direction his brother’s voice had come from.
Forty-five minutes later, the older Winchester saw something on the ground in the distance. He focused his flashlight and saw his brother.
Dean hurried as fast as his leg would allow and reached his brother’s side. He fell to the ground and began to check the man for wounds. Sam’s left leg looked wrong. Dean felt it and a bone moved. He groaned deep inside. His brother had a cut and a lump on his forehead.
“Damn it, Sammy. What are we supposed to do now?” Dean reached for his cell forgetting there was no signal. He sat by his brother, exhaustion and a feeling of despair going through him.
“What the hell do I do?” Thoughts of Cas went through his mind, but after what happened with Alfie, Dean was afraid to call his friend.
The hunter took another bottle of water out of his duffel and searched for Sam’s. It had been dropped in the fall, but Dean had no idea about that. He managed to get up and began his search.
The older Winchester leaned his head back and stared at the stares.
A lone wail could be heard echoing over the canyons, as he cried out in frustration.