Superstitions {Dean Winchester 2}

Chapter 27

Croatoan

"Oh, look, a motel. And it has rooms available. Maybe we should check it out." I looked over at Dean, smiling. 

He blinked at me. "What have I done to you?"

"You've ruined me, that's what." I answered. "So?"

"Si." Dean says. 

"Oh, come on, Dean. Please. Don't you love me?" I asked.

"I do, but that has nothing to do with--" He began as he looked back to the road ahead.

"It does." I argued. 

Dean chuckled. "What are you, a sex-crazed maniac?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh, like you're one to talk, Mr. Can't-Keep-His-Hands-To-Himself."

"Good point." Dean shrugged.  

Suddenly the car screeched to a stop. I looked forward. 

"Hands where I can see them!" The dark skinned man we'd met earlier stood in the middle of the road, gun pointed at us. 

"Son of a--" Dean trailed off. 

"Get out of the car." The man demanded. "Out of the car!"

"Alright, easy there, big guy." Dean says as he stepped out of the car.

I did the same, hands raised. 

Suddenly, Dean had his own gun in his hands. "Put it down! Now!"

"Lower it now!" The man yelled back. "You one of them?" 

"No, are you?!"

"No!"

"Could be lying!"

"So could you!" 

I looked between the two yelling men. "See? All of this could have been avoided."

"Yes, Si, next time we'll go with your plan." Dean says. "Alright, alright. We could do this all day, alright? Let's take it easy before we kill each other."

"What's going on with everybody?" The man asked.

"I don't know." Dean replied. 

"My neighbor, Mr. Rogers..."

"You got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?"

"Not anymore. He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one. I mean, it's happening to everyone." 

"We're heading over to doc's place. There's still some people left." 

"No way. I'm getting the hell out." 

"There's no way out." Dean stated. "They got the bridge covered. Now come on."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine, stay here. Be my guest." Dean slid back into the car. I followed his lead. 

I watched as the sarge walked over to the car, sliding into the passenger seat with a handgun now pointed at us. I moved over to Dean as he held his own gun at the sarge, placing his other hand on the wheel. 

"Oh, can I drive?" I asked, gesturing to how Dean had one arm under the other. "It must be uncomfortable." Before Dean could answer, I moved onto his lap. "I'm driving."

I smacked his hand away, smiling as he muttered, "Well, this oughta be a relaxing drive."

Dean tapped his foot against the gas pedal, letting his one hand drop as I controlled the steering wheel. Dean kept his gun tightly in his other hand and pointed it at the sarge.