Sunday, February 10, 2013
Desert Song Chapter Twelve
By the time the sunrise began, Dean was on his last legs. He could barely keep moving. The clawed leg would hardly hold his weight and he could no longer get a deep breath.
He stumbled through the night, refusing to stop for any length of time. When the sun had finally risen, he looked into the distance and saw the large boulder.
The hunter moved slowly but steadily towards the rock that held his brother. All he could think of was rescuing Sam and finding some way to out of the canyon and finding his Baby. The thought of air conditioning was almost better than the thought of sex at the moment.
An hour later, he reached the base of the rock. Sam was asleep and had not seen him coming.
Dean could barely talk by this time. He lifted a rock and tossed it towards the top of the huge boulder. Sam jumped when heard the rock hit the top and slide off.
The younger Winchester looked down, “Dean?”
“Hey, Sammy,” came a hoarse reply. “You ready to get the hell out of here?”
“Hell, yeah,” came an excited reply. “I thought you were dead and I’d end up dying here.”
“Toss me the shotgun and the backpack,” the older man replied, and caught both items. “Okay, Sammy. Slide down to me and I’ll catch you.”
Dean managed to break the slide and both men hit the ground; Sam on top of his brother.
“Man, Dean. I’m so glad to see you.” Sam looked at his brother and saw how red and blistered his face looked. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t really know, Sammy. Please tell me there’s still some water in our duffel.”
Sam opened the duffel and took a bottle of water and handed it to his brother. Dean was so weak at this point he could barely unscrew the cap. The younger brother realized that there had been no water for the older man since the rains. He took the water from the man and told him to drink it slowly or he’d just get sick. Dean began to sip it, struggling to keep from drinking it down in one breath.
Sam began to check his brother. He found the massive bruises on his back, side, and front of the right side of his chest. He stared into the injured man’s eyes and saw the pain there.
“Damn it, Dean. What happened?”
The younger man listened to what his brother told him. “Shit, Dean, how are we gonna do this?”
“Gotta find a better way to splint your leg and make a crutch for you. Then, we walk outta here and we kill that son of a bitch.”
Sam knew they had no choice, so he looked around for possible wood for a better splint. He crawled over the damp sand of the river bed and found some pieces of wood that had drifted on the waters.
Looking at Dean, he decided to let him rest, gritted his teeth, and reset the splint with what he had in his duffel med kit. He looked at his brother’s leg and groaned. The leg had red streaks going down it and was badly swollen.
Sam dressed the leg and found the antibiotics in the med kit and made the older hunter take one.
“We’re gonna let you rest for a while and then we’ll head on.”
Dean didn’t even argue.