The Dead Who Groan Within Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
"Stop squirming." Dean told Sam, waiting for him to settle as he wrapped a long bandage around his chest. "It's broken."
"No kidding." Sam gasped and tried to get his left arm up higher so Dean could work. He ended up resting it on his brother's shoulder, the abused joint refusing to do much more. Some not so gentle pressure from Dean had pointed out the one broken rib among all the bruises.
"Almost done." Dean told him and wrapped as quickly as he dared, pulling the bandage tighter. They'd stopped at a drive through on their way back to the motel for food. Dean had handed the bag to Sam and watched his brother went three shades of pale as he turned to take it. He'd shoved him back in the seat then and manhandled him in front of the drive through window, finding the broken rib he'd missed earlier.
"We should…get out of town." Sam said, feeling a sweat break out across his forehead as Dean tugged the bandage tighter. "Someone's…gonna notice the sheriff's…missing soon."
"I know." Dean tied off the end of the bandage and sat back, taking a good look at him. "Dude, you need to rest."
"I can rest…in the car." The bandage was making it hard for Sam to get a full breath but it was easing the pain some.
Dean frowned, watching the pain cross his face but nodded. "Ok. We'll get out of New York and then find somewhere to hole up for a couple days." He slapped Sam's knee and stood. "You just relax, princess. I'll pack up."
Sam tripped him as he stepped away; giving him a satisfied smirk when Dean growled at him and let himself lay back against the pillows piled behind him with a tired sigh. It was hours until dawn still and he wanted so much to close his eyes and sleep. In spite of his best efforts as he watched Dean move quickly through the room, packing their things, Sam's eyes drooped and then closed.
Dean snorted when he saw his little brother's head loll to the side. He let him nap and quickly packed up their things, lugging the bags down to the car. He made a quick stop in the office and checked out, not bothering to chat with the manager and leave his brother alone. Dean jogged past the pool, flipping it the finger as he headed back up the stairs. Sam was just where he'd left him and Dean stuck a finger in his ear.
"Wake up, Rapunzel." Dean said as Sam slapped his hand away, jerking awake.
"It's Sleeping beauty, idiot." Sam told him and swung his legs off the bed.
Dean grinned. "So not helping your case. Come on, we're good to go." He pulled Sam to his feet and steadied him. "Next motel, no haunted fish."
Sam chuckled. "Seconded." He followed Dean outside and rolled his eyes as Dean slowed his pace down the stairs for his benefit. Dean left him to open his own door with a smirk. Sam grabbed the handle and then froze as he felt a blade slide against his neck and a body step in behind him. "Dean." Sam said softly and watched his brother look up and jerk in shock.
"Don't be stupid, mate." The man at Sam's back said conversationally in a strong Australian accent. "I promise ya I can open yer brother's throat before you get anywhere near me. In the car boys. You first." He pointed at Dean.
"What the hell's going on?" Dean growled, trying to decide if he could get to his gun and shoot before Sam died. As if understanding the look on Dean's face, the man twitched the blade at Sam's throat, drawing a thin line of blood.
"Get in the car." He ordered again.
Sam gave Dean a slight nod. "I'm ok, Dean."
"That's a good lad." The man said as Dean got behind the wheel. "Now in you go, son and don't try anythin'. Hate to have to leave you here." He pressed the knife in deeper so Sam understood if he left him it would be as a corpse. Sam opened the door, grunting as the man shoved him against the frame of the car as he opened the back door and stepped around, knife never leaving his neck. Sam folded into the seat, wincing at the pressure across chest from the broken rib and winced in pain when the man's hand closed like a vise on his left shoulder, pulling him back. The door closed and the knife returned to his throat.
"You hurt him again and I promise no one's ever gonna find what's left of you." Dean ground out, meeting the man's eyes in the rearview mirror.
"Now, now. No reason we can't stay friendly like." The man smiled at Dean, never loosening his grip on Sam's shoulder or moving the knife. "Drive."
"Where?" Dean turned on the engine, meeting Sam's wide eyes.
"Esperanza Mansion. Follow the signs." He settled in against the back of the bench seat behind Sam and gave his shoulder another twist, making him groan. "This shoulder's a bit of a problem, mate. Oughta be more careful."
"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered and took a deep breath to calm himself at the barest shake of Sam's head telling him not to start something yet. He pulled out into the street, empty at that late hour and kept one eye on the man in the back seat, waiting for an opportunity but he gave him none.
"You boys have been busy tonight." The man said with a smile. "Got my boss mad as a cut snake an' the day hasn't even started yet."
"And who's your boss?" Sam asked and the man snickered.
"A right pommy bastard but 'e pays well." He thumped Sam's shoulder, smirking at the hiss of pain. "Now you lot, you went and killed his little…pet. He wants a word with ya." He shook his head and tsked. "Figure I'll be diggin' two holes before dawn."
"One for you and one for your boss." Dean said and gave him a smile in the mirror that, had he been a smart man, would have made his blood run cold.
"The Dhobar-Chu was his pet?" Sam asked, incredulous.
"Right, enough talk. Just drive, mate and maybe we all get there in one piece." He tugged Sam's head back at an awkward angle so Dean could clearly see the blade and smiled. Dean focused his eyes on the road and let the anger calm him. Sooner or later the guy would make a mistake and he'd be ready.
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The Esperanza Mansion was impressive even in the moonlight as they drove up to it, their hijacker directing them to a narrow road that ran behind the sprawling house. It was fronted with Greek columns and looked as though it belonged on the Italian coast somewhere rather than a little lake in upstate New York.
"Park over there." The man told Dean and nodded toward a rear entrance. Dean pulled into a space and cut off the engine. "Now you just sit still a sec." He gave Sam's shoulder another squeeze. "Out if ya please." Sam growled, frustrated but opened his door as the man opened the one behind him and got out, the knife leaving his throat for only a moment. "Ah, ah, ah." The man said and took hold of his bad shoulder again as Sam made to turn, raising his right arm. The knife pressed into him again and he stilled. "No heroics, mate. Your turn, get out." He told Dean and kicked the doors shut as Dean stood and glared at him. "Move." He nodded for Dean to lead the way and followed behind with a firm grip on Sam, knife pricking painfully as they walked.
Sam watched the stiff shoulders of his big brother as they entered the mansion and walked down a long hall. Their captor spurred them to the right and down a flight of stairs before finally bringing them into what looked like a comfortable sitting room; three chairs and a long chaise surrounded a low table and the back wall was covered floor to ceiling in hanging curtains. Stretched on the chaise was a young, dark haired man, well dressed and he rose as they entered.
"Shut the door, Jasper." He said and looked to Dean and Sam. "I'm Mr. Fielding. I own Esperanza Mansion." He stuck out a hand that Dean ignored. Mr. Fielding raised a brow to Jasper who dug his fingers into Sam's shoulders, driving him to the floor in pain. Dean made a move to intervene but Jasper wiggled the knife still at Sam's throat and he stopped. "I expect civility from my guests, Mr. Winchester." Mr. Fielding said calmly with a faint British accent, waiting for Dean to turn to him and held his hand out again.
Dean growled and grudgingly took it, hearing Sam hiss in pain behind him. "You don't treat your guests very well." Dean said and rubbed his hand absently on his pants when it was released, feeling as though something vile had clung to it.
"Do please, sit." Mr. Fielding gestured to one of the chairs and Dean slowly sat. A raised hand stopped Sam from following. "Oh I think we'll leave your brother in Jasper's tender care for now, hmm? We wouldn't want any…misunderstandings while we speak. Your reputation precedes you of course and I shall take no chances."
"What the hell are you?" Dean asked, patience reaching its limit. He had sat so he could see Sam and his little brother still knelt on the floor, head hung low and his right hand gripping his left shoulder below Jasper's hand. The cut on his throat seemed to have clotted as no fresh blood was flowing to join the red stain down the front of his shirt. "What do you want?"
"An explanation if you please." Mr. Fielding sat across from Dean and rang a small silver bell, setting it aside on the table. "You killed one of my pets and I should like to know how."
"One of?" Dean asked, surprised as a worry niggled at him. "There's more?"
Mr. Fielding smiled and reached behind him, taking hold of a long pull cord. He gave it a tug and the curtains on the back wall slid apart to reveal a low lit cave interior. At the back of the cave, curled around a nest of small eggs was a second Dobhar-Chu. "You killed her mate but thankfully they had already produced offspring so I'm not as angry as I would otherwise be inclined to be."
The door opened beyond Sam while both men stared at the creature through the thick pane of glass and a tall, young woman walked nervously in. "Yes, Mr. Fielding?"
"Coffee please, Lana." He told the woman and scowled at her as she stopped to take in the room and Sam with the knife at his throat. "Now if you please." Fielding said with less good humor and she bobbed a quick curtsy and left the room. He rang another bell and two men entered from a side door. "Search them please."
Dean growled as he was roughly pulled to his feet and forced himself not to fight as they divested him and Sam of their weapons. A tidy pile of three handguns, several knives and Dean's Skein sat on the low table between them when they were finished.
"Sit." Fielding told Dean and waited until he had. He leaned across and picked through the weapons on the table, taking up the Bronze knife and tilting it so it glinted in the light. "Ah. Lucky guess or actual research on your part?"
"Go to hell." Dean growled and Fielding laughed.
"Oh no doubt, my boy. No doubt at all." He smiled and set the knife aside. "A Warlock like myself has no other options I fear after death." He smiled as their eyes widened in surprise and chuckled. "You've stumbled into my playground you see. I was quite enjoying the little mayhem my pet was getting up to and I did need the souls you know."
"For what?" Sam asked suddenly, lifting his head to look at the man curiously. "There are already plenty of active souls in those ruins."
"Yes, yes but not enough, not for my purposes." He rose as Lana returned with a tray and coffee service. "Ah in my office Lana. I think the brothers Winchester won't be needing a cup after all." He waited until she had left and smiled at them. "No, I won't be telling you what I'm up to. I'm quite fond of James Bond films you know." He laughed as he started away toward the door. "The criminal masterminds are always ruining their best laid plans with some ridiculous monologue. Goodbye boys." He stopped to drop a hand on Jasper's shoulder. "Give them to her. A bit of revenge should suit her I think and she hasn't been fed today."
Jasper waited until the door shut, leaving him alone with them and sighed. "Now if it were me, I'd just kill you two straight but, the boss says you're lunch, you're lunch. Up you go, mate." He tugged at Sam's shoulder until he'd climbed to his feet and nodded at Dean. "Door's over there on your right." He watched Dean stand and not move and smiled. "Die here or die there. Your choice mate."
Dean saw Sam give him a slight shake of his head and turned toward the door. His hands were shaking with rage as he reached for the handle and gave it a turn, opening it. He felt Sam come up behind him and just as he was going to turn and make a grab for the knife, Sam was thrust into him from behind, knocking them both through the door and into the cave beyond. He grunted with Sam's weight falling on top of him. Dean rolled to his back, pushing Sam to the side in time to see Jasper in the door grinning.
"S'what I would'a done, mate." Jasper shrugged. "Good luck. She's a messy eater." He shut the door and Dean saw him walk away through the glass and leave the room, obviously not interested in watching.
"Sam?" Dean reached over and took the arm Sam raised.
"Yeah. Crap." Sam rolled to his knees slowly, hanging on to his now throbbing shoulder, left arm cradled over his broken rib. "I'm ok."
Dean nodded and rose. He went to the door and tried the handle, finding it locked. "Figured." He muttered and gave it a few solid kicks to no effect before turning back to the cave and its' resident. The Dobhar-Chu uncoiled her head from over her eggs, raising it up to see them. "Not good." Dean went and pulled Sam hastily to his feet, backing them to the window. "Any ideas, college boy?"
Sam shook his head. "They got all my weapons. You?" Dean nodded. "Open to suggestions here."
The great serpent began easing away from her eggs toward them, long, forked tongue licking out into the air as if tasting their scent and she hissed.
Dean could see nothing in the cave to use as a weapon, nor anywhere to hide and his eyes settled on the nest. He braced a hand on Sam's back. "The eggs. Get to the eggs. She won't wanna break those."
"You hope." Sam groaned and began easing out into the cave, Dean at his side as the shaggy, black head rose over them menacingly.
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