Supernatural Fresh Meat - By Alice Henderson Page 0,99

working. The insectile face twisted in pain.

They were down twenty feet, then ten, and then Bobby reached up and grabbed one of the clawed feet. He seized the other one, yanking it to the ground. Sam ran over, catching hold of the aswang’s arms. He put all his strength into holding it down. It bucked beneath them, alarmingly strong, but weakened.

Dean grabbed the barb and dragged it downward through the flesh, tearing through its stomach. The barb ripped open its torso and Sam could see the aswang’s beating heart.

Dean yanked the barb upward and it caught around the rib cage, then he twisted it. The serrated tip pierced the aswang’s heart. It burst open, black fluid spewing over all of them. The creature fluttered on the ground, body going into spasms. Then its heart caught fire, flames engulfing the entire chest cavity.

They leapt back as searing heat swept over the body. With a dull whump it ignited, completely engulfed in flames. It sizzled, globules of spitting fat spraying outward. The body flailed, feet kicking out, wings flapping, and then it suddenly went limp. The fire burned to incandescent brightness, instantly turning the body to a heap of ash.

SIXTY-FIVE

Dean collapsed on a pile of rocks outside the mine. “Man, I want a burger… Two burgers. With bacon. And extra cheese.” He wiped black aswang gunk from his face and rubbed his hands on his pants.

Sam sat down in the snow nearby. Bobby stood, checking his wrist, pushing his sleeve up to examine the swelling. It hadn’t gotten any better.

Dean frowned. “It’s not over yet.”

Sam looked at where the aswang had vaporized. “What?”

“Eggs,” Dean reminded them.

Bobby nodded. “Eggs.” He pulled his sleeve back in place. “Where did you hide them?”

Dean thought back to angling away from the cabin, finding the boulder with the crevice. It felt like a long time ago. “If we can reach that cabin, I can retrace my steps. I think we need the stingray barb to destroy them. Nothing I did hurt them at all, not even the spices.”

Sam reached over and grabbed the whip, then coiled it up and put it in his pocket.

Bobby glanced around the snowy forest. Now that the sun gleamed down on the white powder, it was dazzlingly bright. He fished into his pocket and pulled out his snow goggles, fastening them in place. “Let’s go.”

They drank some water and walked to where they’d left their snowshoes by the mine entrance. Checking the map, they determined where the cabin was and started out. Dean couldn’t believe how much easier it was to navigate when they could actually see the rock formations around them. Bobby used his compass and expertly directed them toward the cabin. Now that the avalanche had released the tension, hiking the shorter way was once again an option.

Dean had been so relieved to see Bobby and Sam again at the lodge, but now that they were all together, they didn’t say much. They walked in relative silence, each consumed in his own thoughts. All of them had taken a beating on this one. Dean tuned out all the aches and pains that wracked his body. After years of practice, he’d made an art of it.

As they crossed a meadow and entered a cluster of trees, Dean finally spoke. “Heard you guys fought some vampires at Point Reyes.”

“Decapitations galore,” Bobby said.

“Fought some more on a cliff top on the way here,” Sam added. His tone was light, but Dean could see it had been rough.

Dean told them about Jimmy, how Jason had sold him out to the vampires in exchange for them killing Sam and Bobby. He was another casualty of the hunter life. Dean felt bad about what had happened to him. He more than anyone understood what it was like to be turned into a vampire, and the guy had still saved Dean’s bacon, not to mention Grace and Steven.

After two hours of hiking, they reached the cabin. Dean checked under the sink, to be sure he hadn’t missed any eggs, and that the aswang hadn’t laid any more.

“Hey, Bobby,” he called from the kitchen.

Bobby entered the cabin, looking around. “Yeah?”

Sam joined them.

“Do you think there was more than one clutch of eggs?”

Bobby shook his head. “According to the Spanish missionary, an aswang has one shot to lay eggs in its lifetime, and they have to eat more than usual to be able to do it.”

Sam lifted his eyebrows in realization. “That’s why so many hikers vanished in such