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Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Desert Song Chapter Sixteen

        Sam held his brother for over an hour when an idea came to him.  Laying Dean on the sand, he covered his face lightly, keeping the hot rays from burning the man’s face more than they already had.

        Forcing himself to rise and walk, he felt a slight movement of the bone in his leg and hoped it would not break more and come through the muscle and skin.  He found the old river bed and began to look for wood that would have washed out of the canyon.  It took the man several hours to find enough wood to build a bonfire.  Opening his backpack, he removed a small can of starter fluid and some matches.    In the bottom of the pack, he spotted on bottle of water.  Grateful to the powers that be, he opened the water and drank a small amount.  Lifting Dean, he raised his brother’s head and gave him some of the water.

        “Not too much, Dean.  I found this one in the bottom of my backpack.  The taller hunter helped the smaller one sit up.  Dean squinted in the bright light and saw the wood pile.

        “What the hell is that?”

        “I remembered that the border patrol goes over this area because illegal aliens come this way to avoid being caught.  They use helicopters, Dean.  Remember the ones we saw in the town we drove through on the way to the reservation?  They’re gonna be loud enough to be heard.  I’ll set fire to this and draw their attention.  We’ll get help.”

        The older man stared at his brother, “Okay, Sammy.” 

        After the sun went down, the Shaman appeared and stood between the brothers.  Sam raised the shotgun and watched.

        “You should not be alive.  The Spirits cannot want this.  It would seem my skin walkers are not strong enough to handle you.”

        Dean almost smirked, and the old man was irritated by it.

        “How are you even alive?  I know how sick you are.”

        “Somebody likes me,” the injured man commented.

        At that point, the Shaman turned into a large eagle and attacked Sam.  The shotgun flew into the air.  The bird flew at a fast speed, talons stretched out and aimed at the younger man.

        “Sam,” Dean shouted with what voice he had left.  He managed to rise and put all of his strength into reaching the younger man.  Sam held his arm out at an angle, blocking the large bird from reaching his face and neck.  He didn’t see his brother until the man was on top of him. 

        Dean pinned the eagle between himself and his younger brother.  He grabbed the silver knife he still carried and stabbed into the eagle’s back, severing the spinal cord, and sliding the blade up into the heart.  The force of the attack cause a small explosion.  Dean was thrown back.  Sam lost consciousness.

        At the moment the blast occurred, older hunter saw animals grab the Shaman and drag him away.  The man was screaming.

        Dean heard a different noise.  The blast attracted the Border Patrol.  He crawled to the pile of wood, poured the lighter fluid over it and lit it off.  The hunter felt the high winds of chopper blades and it was all he remembered.

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