The force
of the waters threw Dean backwards, knocking the hunter off his feet. The undertow dragged him under. Struggling to break the power of the
undertow, Dean lost his shotgun and backpack.
Neither loss registered in his mind during his struggle to survive the
waters.
The older
Winchester finally breached the top of the flood and found himself being thrown
to and fro in the powerful current and waves.
At one point, he was hurled against a large, sharp boulder. He felt the snapping in his chest and fought
to breathe. Where he was thrown was
above the water level. The sharpness in
the boulder formed a small ledge.
Struggling, Dean managed to pull himself onto the ledge and rolled onto
his back, sucking in air, painfully.
“Damn
it. What else can go wrong,” the hunter
whispered to himself. “I gotta go back
and get Sammy,” Dean muttered as he struggled to stay awake. The lack of a good night’s sleep, physical
exhaustion, and shock from his latest injury pulled him into oblivion. The older brother fell asleep.
******
The spirit
of the Shaman watched the waters recede as they followed the dry riverbed into
the desert. The old man allowed his mind
to flow to where Sam leaned against the rock wall.
“The
Spirit Guides are finding you guilty.
You will not get down from there without your brother. I do not see him.”
The Shaman
searched further and frowned when he saw Dean asleep on the ledge. He smiled after he explored Dean’s
surroundings.
“You have
no weapons, Winchester, and you are injured worse than you were. I look forward to what happens to you after
this.”
******
With a
sudden jerk, the older brother woke, moaning loudly and holding his chest.
“Damn it,”
he swore.
Dean
slowly worked his way down the large boulder and searched the area for his weapons
and backpack. Shaking his head, he
slowly made his way back to where he left Sam.
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