Dead on the Bayou Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
Dean sank to the bottom under the weight of the Pookha. He could see its red eyes above the surface of the water. He raised his right hand, gun still held firmly and the Pookha vanished. Its weight left his chest and his head bobbed to the surface, sucking in a grateful breath as a new weight descended on him. Dean gasped in another lungful of air as the bole of a Cypress rolled onto him, pushing his legs down into the mud. The wind gave a final, deafening roar and began to die away. He wrapped his hand around the tree above him, using it to lever his head above the water and gasped.
"Holy crap." Dean panted and looked around, blinking water from his eyes but could see no sign of the Pookha. He stared at the tree on top of him and a chill traveled down his spine; if the Pookha hadn't knocked him back, the tree would have clipped him in the chest and crushed him. Branches and leaves dropped into the water around him, released by the storm as it dissipated. His flashlight was gone, ripped from his hand. He tightened his grip on his gun and reached his hand up over the trunk of the tree, trying to pull himself out.
"Aw come on!" Dean shouted angrily. It had pressed his legs down into the muddy bottom. He pushed in earnest, pulling on his legs and felt the suction start to give. His left leg slid free and he braced his foot against the bark. The extra leverage let him slide his right leg out and he pulled himself up over the tree. His legs burned with returning blood flow and he let himself lay atop the tree for a moment. "Ok, Sammy. Where the hell are you?" He looked out into the darkened swamp and wondered how he was going to find him.
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Sam moaned and worked to blink his eyes open against the pounding in his head and the swaying that was making his stomach lurch. When he finally he did, he jerked in surprise. He was dangling twenty feet up in a massive Cypress, Spanish moss tickling his face.
"Not…good." Sam groaned and tried to see what was holding him up. He twisted, pulling on a nearby branch and saw his right leg tangled in branches and moss; the only thing holding him up. "Awesome." Below him was water so at least his fall wouldn't be a hard landing. A myriad of pains were making themselves known across his back, legs and arms. He'd obviously taken a few hits on his way into the tree. The wind had died, the hail gone and even the rain had died off to a gentle drizzle that fell on his face and helped cut the muggy heat that was beginning to sink over the Cypress swamp.
"Dean!" Sam called and coughed, clearing water from his throat. "Dean!" There was no answer and he sighed, resigning himself to a long drop. He forced tired muscles to work, pulling himself up his own leg until he could get his hands on the branches trapping him. He worked his hands into the knot, pulling and tugging and with a crack they broke. Sam dropped with a short cry into the water below. The impact of the twenty foot fall knocked the breath from him as he sank. Sam fought every instinct screaming at him to breathe as his back touched the bottom. The water wasn't deep but disoriented as he was, it took him precious moments to remember which way was up. His hand found one of the roots of the tree he'd been trapped in and used it to pull himself up, gasping for breath as his head broke the surface. The water was neck deep where he'd fallen.
Sam pulled himself up the root toward the tree to get himself out of the water and froze. Perched along the trunk of the tree above him was a large black cat, peering down at him with red eyes.
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Dean lurched through the water from tree to tree, using the gnarled and twisted roots to pull himself along. "Sam!" He called periodically and refused to give way to panic each time his call went unanswered. The whuffle of a horse stopped Dean in his tracks and he looked up to see a large, sleek black horse wading in the shallows a few yards away. It turned its head to look at him and Dean heard the soft jangle of the chains draped through its mane.
"Uh…how about you not eat me til I find my brother?" Dean said softly and raised his gun. He squeezed off a round as the Pookha danced behind a tree, the bullet sending chunks of bark into the air. It whinnied and appeared again further away. "Stand still." Dean growled and fired again, the shot missing its target once more as the creature ducked behind another tree. Dean lunged after it. He wanted to kill the thing before it could find his brother, if it hadn't already.
"Come on, you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted as he splashed after the Pookha. It was teasing him, giving him just enough time to brace and fire before moving nimbly out of the way and reappearing further on.
"DEAN!" Sam's voice broke through the night air and Dean froze, watching the horse. It gave him another look and then darted away with a last toss of its head.
"Sammy?" Dean called and ran through the deepening water. He climbed up the roots of a massive Cyprus, rounding the trunk and gasped. Sam was in the water at the base of a tree and inching toward him from above was a huge black cat. He realized with a jolt that it had to be a second Pookha. "You gotta be kidding me. SAM!" He shouted and fired off several shots at the creature.
He thought he'd hit it at least once and Dean's eyes widened in surprise as it transformed in mid leap at Sam from a cat to an enormous black bear. It hit Sam with a thud, pushing them both into the water and beneath its surface.
"Sam!" Dean leaped off the base of the tree as the Pookha erupted from the water and into the nearest tree, vanishing into the night with a loud growl. Dean ignored it and dove under the surface, arms reaching ahead of him to where he thought Sam had gone under. His hands found one of Sam's arms thrashing through the water and he pulled, grunting when Sam didn't come with him. It was too dark to see anything under the water so Dean used Sam's body to guide his hands down along his torso and legs until he found what felt like submerged roots wedged over his hips. Sam's hands clamped into his jacket and Dean could feel them shaking, knew Sam had to be desperate for air. He planted his feet in the muddy bottom, wrapped his arms around the roots and strained to pull them up. There was a release of bubbles as Sam came loose. Dean grabbed him and pulled him up.
"Sam! You ok?" Dean asked as his brother's head broke the surface and both men panted for air.
Sam let himself be supported with Dean's arms, heaving as he'd been seconds away from breathing water instead. "I'm ok." Sam gasped finally. "Clawed me up a little…not bad."
"Crap. Come on." Dean pulled him toward the tree he'd been clinging to before and dragged him up onto the roots with him.
"Think you hurt it." Sam said as Dean helped him climb out and he let his back thump into the tree with a hiss of pain.
"Sure as hell hurt you." Dean muttered, seeing the rents in his brother's shirt across his chest.
"It's not that bad." Sam assured him but Dean just shook his head.
"Shut up and lemme look." Dean pulled the shirts up and frowned. Sam was right; the marks were shallow but long, trailing up the right side of his chest to his shoulder. He let the shirts drop and peered out into the night for any sign the Pookha's were coming back. "You hurt anywhere else?"
"Bumps and bruises." Sam told him and pushed himself up higher on the trunk. "Got banged around some when the wind took me." He smirked and pointed up. "Woke up hanging in the damn tree like a piñata."
Dean chuckled. "Good thing I didn't find you first." He stood and pulled Sam up with him. "I'd have had to take a few swings to get you down."
Sam snorted. "Why do you think I got myself loose?"
"We gotta get out of here. There's two of them." Dean pulled him along the roots and stopped at the water's edge. "You good for a swim?"
"Two?" Sam asked, surprised. In answer to his brother's question, he jumped into the water. He wished he still had his gun but it had been lost along with his flashlight in the tornado.
"I followed the other one to you." Dean said as he hit the water beside Sam. "Damn thing was fast."
"Huh." Sam pulled himself toward the next tree. "It led you to me?"
Dean chuckled. "I was shooting at it at the time. Don't think it was thinking, 'gosh I'll just lead this guy nicely to his brother before I snack on him."
Sam said nothing, pulling on the roots until he felt the bottom firm under his feet. He slipped in the muck, his arm falling beneath the roots under the tree and he yanked his arm back out quickly, getting a mouthful of water as he fell backwards. "Shit!"
"Sammy? What is it?" Dean pulled him back and aimed his gun at the tree.
"Someone's under there." Sam sputtered as he got his feet beneath him again. "I felt the face. It was cold."
Dean reached carefully beneath the tree, ready for surprises and felt an arm beneath his hand. He pulled, grunting with the effort and the body finally popped free, floating out between the roots.
"Ah hell." Sam groaned and looked sadly down on the face of Sarah Evan's father, long since dead.
"Sorry, Sammy." Dean said, understanding the sadness on his face. "Let's go." Dean pushed until the lower half of the man's body was wedged under the tree again; he'd be easier for the authorities to find later. "We'll call from the road."
Sam nodded and followed Dean as they waded through the dark swamp. The footing gradually became easier, the ground firming as they neared the pine trees behind the Evan's house again. They stumbled from the Bayou, exhausted and aching and made their way back through the woods to the house on auto-pilot. When they emerged from the trees, Sam gave the Evan's home a sorrowful look, wishing that the daughter could have had her father back.
"Move, Sam." Dean took his arm and got him walking again. He'd stopped in the tree line staring and Dean could see he was close to done. Their clothes had begun to dry on the walk and fresh blood was beginning to ooze through the tears in Sam's shirt. "Gotta get you cleaned up before you end up with Tetanus or something."
"Don't think Pookha's carry Tetanus." Sam tossed back and gave a tired smile.
"So the friggin plague then." Dean pulled him on faster, wanting to reach the car and get them both away before the creatures came back for more. One gun between them did not give him confidence. He sighed in relief when they rounded the house and the Impala came into sight.
"You're limping." Sam said suddenly, looking down as he let Dean lead him along.
"Tree landed on me." Dean said ruefully and then frowned. "Would have been flattened if the other Pookha hadn't tackled me."
"Wait." Sam stopped. "It helped you twice?"
Dean jerked him back into motion. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe." Dean pushed him to the car and pulled the passenger door open before walking around to the driver's side and sliding in. "I don't know if it was saving me, more likely it got interrupted trying to eat me by a tree falling on me." He turned on the car and backed away from the house with a laugh. "When do the creatures ever wanna help us?"
Sam shook his head and shrugged but mulled the thought over as they drove.
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"Ow. Are you trying to make them worse?" Sam groused at Dean as he stitched closed two of the slashes on the front of Sam's shoulder. They'd been deeper than they looked and in an awkward place to stitch himself without standing in the mirror.
"Oh stop whining, ya big baby." Dean smirked and tied off the last stitch. He picked up the bottle of scotch from the table and poured a healthy amount over his handiwork, smiling as Sam yelped. "All better."
"Dude, you suck." Sam said but he shook his head, amused and took the bottle away from Dean. He took a healthy gulp and handed it back as he stood and went stiffly over to his bed.
Dean nodded happily and grabbed the remote, switching the TV on while Sam eased down onto the bed with a happy groan once he was lying flat. Dean's attention was taken by the news then as they announced a missing teenager and flashed a picture of a pretty red head. "Looks like they got another one last night." He said and looked over to see Sam rolling onto his side with effort. "Daisy Ruben. Seventeen."
"Dammit." Sam ground out as they spoke to a guy claiming to be her boyfriend who put her last where-a-bouts less than a mile from where they had been earlier on. "We were so close. She might still be alive, Dean."
"I know." Dean turned the TV off and looked over at him. "We're not going back out there tonight, dude. Besides, after that twister there aren't gonna be any tracks to follow and you look like you went a few rounds with Edward Scissorhands." He got up and went to the bed, tugging the blanket out from under Sam and tossed it over him. "First thing tomorrow, we'll go have a look in daylight. Ok?"
"Yeah." Sam settled back and tried to swallow the feeling they'd failed not just Sarah but the girl as well.
"Get some sleep, Sammy." Dean said and flipped off the light by the beds.
"It's Sam." He replied and rolled away, hoping he'd get one night of sound sleep from the nightmares that plagued him.
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Dean figured his brother got a whole three hours of sleep before he woke himself shouting Jess' name. He rolled out of bed and sat on the side of Sam's. "Sam. You awake?" He took Sam's shoulder in the dim light filtering in through the curtains and cursed as he felt the heat of a fever. "You just can't do anything by halves can you, Sammy?"
"I'm ok." Sam said finally, shaking himself out of the last of the nightmare.
"Sure you are." Dean reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp, scowling at the pale, sweat slicked face of his brother as he squinted against the light. He went to their bag and dug the Tylenol out of the first aid kit and grabbed the bottle of whiskey on his way back to the bed. He set the bottle down and took Sam's hand, shaking a few of the pills into it. "No arguments, Sam. Take 'em." Then handed the bottle to him. "Bottoms up."
"I'm fine." Sam argued but Dean just nudged the hand with the pills toward his mouth.
"And you'll be better in the morning if you listen to me for a change." Dean raised a brow. "Or I can sit on you and make you take them. Pretty sure you'd lose right now." He shrugged and after a moment, Sam rolled his eyes in defeat and took them with a swig from the bottle.
"Real healthy prescription, doc." Sam said as he handed it back and Dean grinned.
"Hey, if one don't kill the pain, the other will. Go back to sleep." Dean set the bottle aside after a healthy swallow of his own and turned the light back off, climbing back into his bed with a grateful groan. He had his own bruises to nurse.
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