Chapter 11 : The Scarecrow

Cause

by

     My brain was on fire, despite the cold dirt floor I had been lying on. It was coarse against my cheek, and as I pursed my lips, I could feel the stickiness on my cheek collecting dirt from the ground.

     I groaned loudly as my eyes fluttered. My hands slowly made it's way to my head, and I cringed as my palm brushed against the wetness that smeared across my chin. It wasn't until then, as I dabbed at the blood, that I remembered everything that had happened.

    "Dean," I managed to choke out.

     I rolled myself over onto my stomach and kept my head low, not wanting to sit up to quickly and cause the rush of blood to knock me back out.

     "Dean," my voice was more panicked, and I coughed as the sharp breaths caused me to inhale the dirt. I heard him grunt from somewhere close, but as I opened my eyes, darkness surrounded us, and I could see nothing more than the light peeking through the wooden boards above us.

     I felt his leg brush against mine as he moved around. He was patting the ground, and he sighed in relief as his hand wrapped around my calf. He scooted closer, dragging himself across the dirt floor, and I felt his hand wrap around my forearm, and with care, he helped me up slowly.

     "Are you okay?" he asked me as I blinked, trying to accustom myself to the dim light that illuminated the small dirt cellar we were in.

     I ran my hands slowly over my body, ensuring that everything was still intact and that I wasn't missing any organs, and nodded.

     "You?" I asked him, noticing a bit of blood at his bottom lip.

     He seemed fine otherwise, and I followed his gaze to a set of stairs that led up to a rickety-looking door that looked like we could break right through. He stood up, and without a word, he started ramming into it as if the rotting boards would break.

     "Dean, it's useless," I muttered as I watched him heave himself over and over again.  "Dean!"

     "What?!"

     I stared at the bit of him I could see in the dim light. "It's not going to work."

     "Well then, maybe you should try to do something instead of just standing there," he growled before ramming into once more. He sighed heavily and sat at the bottom of the steps, his head falling into his hands.

     I pulled the hem of my shirt up, wiping the blood from my nose, and tried to collect my thoughts. This wasn't expected, but it wasn't the worst thing to happen.

     "This is what we wanted to begin with, isn't it?" I asked him. "Wasn't your original plan for us to be bait?"

     "Yeah," He snapped. "But I wasn't expecting to be blindsided and served up on a golden platter to a god."

     "Well, there's two of us and one of him," I said to him, and he only rolled his eyes and leaned forwards. "I'd say the odds are pretty good."

     He was silent as I walked up the steps and tried to get a good look through the boards, but I jumped back as someone slammed on it above me, sending dust and dirt into my already irritated eyes. I stumbled back down the steps, and Dean grabbed my waist and steadied me against a wall.

     "You okay?" He asked me as I rubbed at them, but I focused on the voices from up above us instead of answering him. There was more than one, and Dean shook his head. "How are the odds now?" 

     "Shut up," I growled at him as the doors swung open and a flashlight blinded us.

     "Any brilliant ideas?" Dean muttered, his hands going up in the air as the Sheriff racked the slide of his shotgun.

     Fighting back would be dumb at this point. In total, it was two on five, not even including the Vanir, and at least three of them had a loaded gun pointed at our backs. We couldn't run. We couldn't fight. We couldn't do anything, but it didn't stop Dean and his smart-ass mouth from going as they tied us tightly to two large apple trees.

     We couldn't see the scarecrow, so we didn't know how much time we had. It had been up on the post a few yards behind us when they set us here, but as the sun fell, so did my hope as trying to shimmy out of these binds didn't seem to be working.

     "Dean," I muttered.

     He had been quiet for far too long, and for a moment, I honestly thought he had fallen asleep and didn't hear the footsteps coming towards us. "Dean!"

     "What?!"

     "Please tell me you have a plan?"

     "I'm working on it," he snapped, even more agitated.

     I glanced around, the footsteps getting closer.

     "Well, I suggest you hurry the hell up because it's coming." I snapped as I started tugging at my binds, ignoring the burning sensation in my wrists as I pulled and twisted. There was no way out of this.

     "Can you see?" Dean asked me, panic filling his voice.

     I strained my neck as far as I could, but as the curses came spewing out of my mouth, I felt my blood pressure rising. "You mother fu- ughhh," I growled, pulling at the ropes. "If you touch him, I swear to God I will -"

     "Dean?"

     I pursed my lips, a swirl of relief flooded over me as I heard the oddly familiar voice. Dean leaned forward, craning his neck around to see the man standing between our trees, and let out a sigh of relief.

     "I take everything back," he muttered as Sam bent down next to him and started to untie him. "I'm so happy to see you. How did you get here?"

     I rolled my eyes. Now was not the time to catch up.

     "I uh - stole a car."

     Dean laughed like a proud father. "That's my boy."

     "Seriously!" I shouted at the two of them as they stared at each other. "Can we make up later? Maybe when there trying to kill us?"

     Sam paused and looked around. "What scarecrow?"

     Dean lurched forward as he finally fell free of his binds and glanced around Sam. He took a step back as if he was in shock, and the brothers stared at each other for what seemed like an unnecessary amount of time.

     "Seriously!" I shouted. "Guys, get me out of this!"

     Dean was quick to pull at the bloody ropes from around my wrists. I had pulled and twisted for so long that they had broken skin, but he didn't seem to notice as he yanked hard, despite my cringing and yanking up to my feet. His hand wrapped around my waist as he ushered us into the center of the clearing, spinning in circles as footsteps surrounded us.

     "We gotta get out of here," I muttered, but Dean pulled me back, shaking his head.

      "We have to find the tree?"

      "What tree?"

     "The book said the Vanir was tied to an energy source, and I overheard the Sheriff talking about the first tree, how it needed to be protected until sunrise."

     "Okay, so let's find it and burn it." Sam insisted, but I stared at the two of them in shock.

     "Are you two stupid?" I snapped. "There's a God damn scarecrow and five angry psychopaths with guns who are going to be looking for us. We need to get out of here. We can come back in the morning."

      Sam's eyes widened at her harshness, and though he was about to object, Dean nodded. "She's right. Let's just shag ass before leather face catches up."

     Sam and I shared an awkward look but took off after him only to be quickly surrounded by the same deranged citizens who put us out as an offering. Everywhere I turned, I found a flashlight and a gun.

     "Just let us go, and we'll all live till morning," I muttered as the three of us walked back to back in circles.

     "It'll be over quickly, I promise."

     "No, it won't," I said to him. "It will never be over."

     "How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" Dean started. "How much blood is on your hands?"

     "The good of the many outweigh the good of a few." A woman's voice said from behind me.

     "I don't think so," Dean growled. He stepped forward, but the slide of another gun echoed through the orchard, and I grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him back.

     "Listen," I said as a low guttural growl surrounded us. "Where is it?"

     "We're all going to die if we don't leave now." Dean insisted, but they weren't having any of it.

     They stepped closer and closer until a blood-curdling scream erupted from behind us, and I spun around towards the woman as blood dripped from the hook in her husband's chest.

     Within seconds, the scarecrow wrapped his arm around the woman, and everyone ran in different directions. Dean's hand slipped from mine, and amid the chaos in the heavy fog, I found myself alone, surrounded by screaming and darkness.

     "Dean!" My voice echoed throughout the orchard.

     I stood in the center, surrounded by fog and footsteps. My head began to throb, and I pinched the bridge of my nose like I always did, hoping it would go away if I focused hard enough. But it wasn't. I was soberer than I had been in the last few months, and oddly enough, my world began to spin.

     I stumbled about, trying to find my way out of the orchard. I followed the boys' voices as they called my name, but they were distant, and I was getting overwhelmed. I stopped and leaned against a tree for a moment to focus. Between the gunshots and the screaming, my head was swirling, but I froze as I heard the low growling creep up behind me slowly.

     I turned around slowly, face to face with the beast, and I held my breath as it looked me over, running its stolen dead hand down the side of my face. The smell of rotten flesh on its breath as it inhaled and exhaled deeply turned my stomach, but it was its stare that tore me.

     It was searching for something, something I guess I didn't have because it backed away slowly until the sound of a shotgun going off only a few feet away sent it fleeing into the woods.

     I exhaled in a panic as my fingers shook. I glanced over at Sam. He was staring at me like he hadn't believed what he had just seen, and it wasn't until Dean rushed up to both of us that he looked away.

     I had no idea what had just happened, and I didn't care to find out why.