Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,89
already, the bullets working their way through his organs.
Jason advanced on him, and Dean fired again, hitting him in the face, the chest, then again in the stomach. He unloaded the whole clip, knowing that if Jason survived, he’d take the gun, and probably a whole hell of a lot more—like Dean’s heart and brain.
Smoke billowed out from the bullet holes, the smell of sizzling meat stealing over the room. Jason reached him, clawed hand coming down hard on Dean’s gun. It flew out of his grip, landing in the far corner near the hallway entrance. The crack and pop of roasting meat filled Dean’s ears as Jason bent down over him. Dean tried to kick him, but all he could do was weakly punch Jason in the chest and face. He grabbed the feeding tube, trying to tear it off, but his hand wouldn’t close tightly enough around the glistening flesh. He could see bits of cooking fat jumping out of the bullet holes.
Jason grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. Dean felt his veins throb. His head swam, red filling his vision. He tried to breathe, but couldn’t. Then the proboscis attached itself to Dean’s chest. The needle teeth bit down and he felt cold venom entering his body. The aswang held him there, hand tightly around Dean’s throat. The lethargic feeling of paralysis returned, stealing over him. He ached for a breath, but the clenched hand around his trachea made it impossible.
Dean’s world went black.
FIFTY-SEVEN
Sam put up Bobby’s tent and got him inside his sleeping bag. Snow continued to fall, blanketing the tent fly as soon as they got it set up. He’d finally convinced Bobby to put his warm clothes back on. Bobby grew quiet, sitting very still.
Sam took the opportunity to gather kindling and logs in the dwindling light. He found a few dry sticks and pine needles and was incredibly grateful to find a box of waterproof matches still in his pack. He moved nearer the tent, gently laying out all the pine needles around the smaller twigs. His whole body shook with the cold. His fingers barely worked. As he struck the match and willed the pine needles to catch, his mind flashed back to ‘To Build a Fire,’ which he’d read in fourth grade. They were not going to suffer the terrible fate of Jack London’s character.
His trembling hands got a match lit and when the pine needles caught, it was the most glorious flash of light Sam had ever seen. It swept through the collection of kindling, and slowly he added more and more sticks and eventually a few logs. They hissed and sizzled, wet from the snow, but they still burned.
He got Bobby out of the tent and sat him in front of the fire. Filling his water bottle with snow, Sam set it close enough to the heat to melt the contents. Then he offered it to Bobby, who welcomed the drink. Sam took a few swigs, too. Slowly the warmth spread to their faces and hands. Bobby wriggled his fingers in front of the flames, then winced when his wrist gave him grief.
They sat in silence, drinking more water. Sam occasionally got up to find more logs. The snow cascaded down, hissing when it hit the flames. Utter quiet hung in the forest.
When he was sufficiently warmed up, Sam put up his own tent, laying his sleeping bag out, then returning to the fire.
Bobby met Sam’s eyes. “Thanks for back there.”
“No problem.”
“Kind of lost my mind.”
“It was the cold.”
“Yeah.”
They subsided into silence again, the only noise the occasional growl of Sam’s empty stomach. Neither mentioned food or how hungry they were. They both knew that as soon as it was light, they would set out again.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Dean regained consciousness, his eyes flying open. Again, he couldn’t move. He still sat against the freezing wall, and now he was really cold. He had lost all sensation in his toes and fingers. His breath frosted in the air, and he could feel a rime of ice around his mouth.
Across from him, Don still lay on his stomach. Dean couldn’t see his face anymore.
In the other corner, the body of the man the aswang had fed on had been flipped on its back, puncture holes covering the bare chest above the heart, stomach, and lungs. Another hole, not sealed, yawned in the temple. Dean could see the empty black inside the skull.
Dean scanned the room, but still didn’t see Grace. Where was