Supernatural: One Year Gone (22 page)

“Where is that? Is it far?” Lisa asked. “They were supposed to go to the
movie theater.”

“No, you assumed seeing a movie meant going to a movie theater. You can’t assume that with boys. Believe me, I know,” Dean said as he put the address into his phone. “Let’s go and get him, before this becomes a Thora Birch Lifetime movie.”

Lisa looked at him as they climbed into the car.

“You know, some of your pop culture references are seriously obscure.”

Dean nodded. He did know that. They pulled out into traffic. Dean was really hoping he was overreacting and everything was fine, but he had learned a long time ago that you can’t be too careful in a town when things are going ass-over-elbows.

Following the GPS, Dean and Lisa drove out of town and onto a double-lane freeway. A short while later, they turned onto a side street. Even though it was mid-morning, the streetlights were slowly flickering in response to a bank of dark clouds pushing in from the shore.

The road swung around in a large circle. On one side a deep thicket of trees ran along the edge; on the other a series of modern apartment buildings were set at different angles around the grounds. Suddenly, the landscape opened up, revealing a long brick building topped with spires and gothic-looking windows, that stood in stark contrast to the modern buildings that surrounded it.

Dean surveyed the scene. He had omitted to tell Lisa what else he had found out during his brief foray on the Internet. This wasn’t some ideal planned community that had popped up out of nowhere. The complex had been built on the grounds of the old state insane asylum.

They parked the car at the leasing office and walked in. Behind the counter a kid, who looked scarcely older than Ben, was sitting watching a baseball game on his computer.

“Are the Sox up?” Dean asked the kid, who hadn’t even glanced up as they walked in.

“Bottom of the eighth. Two runners on. Ortiz is up.”

“Great. Can you tell me what apartment Perry—” Dean looked at Lisa. “What’s her last name?”

Lisa shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

“Can you just look up Perry, then?” Dean said to the kid.

The kid had finally peeled his eyes away from the screen. He was regarding Dean doubtfully. “No can do, bro. I can’t give out residents’ apartment numbers.”

Dean took a twenty from his wallet.

“How about now?”

The kid eyed the money.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d have to get some sort of—”

Another twenty joined the first.

The kid smiled, clearly he was going to try to milk this for all it was worth.

“It really puts my job on the line, man.”

Unfortunately for the kid, he had overplayed his hand. With one arm Dean pushed the kid away from the desk, with the other he spun the computer screen around.

“Hey, you can’t do that. That’s private property,” the kid whined.

“Well, now it’s public,” Dean said, typing a search for Perry’s name into the computer. He drummed his fingers impatiently as the computer creaked into action. Finally it produced an answer: “Kirkbride Building, apartment twelve,” he read.

Dean swiped back his twenties and Lisa and he left. Dean swung the car back around and they parked in front of the large brick building.

“Well, at least this is nice,” Lisa said.

“Yeah, about that...” Dean pulled a pair of sawed-offs out from under his seat.

“What the hell are those for?” Lisa squealed.

“Relax, mine has real bullets, yours has salt. You might have the advantage here,” he said.

“I thought you said there was nothing to worry about?”

Dean nodded. “There isn’t. Prophylactic measure. No pun intended.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. They walked up to the entrance and rang the buzzer to Perry’s apartment. After about thirty seconds with no response, Dean began to methodically ring each of the apartment buzzers in turn. Eventually someone carelessly buzzed them in.

Apartment twelve was on the first floor. Noise filtered from each of the doors as they passed. At apartment twelve Dean knocked on the door and gestured for Lisa to talk.

“Ben? Ben Braeden? You come out here this instant,” Lisa called.

“Could you sound like more of a mom?” Dean asked.

“You try it, smart ass,” she countered.

“Fine. Give me your phone.” Dean took the phone from her and called Ben’s number. From inside the apartment they heard his phone ring. “Okay, so we know he’s in there or was there and someone hit ‘ignore’ when you called before.”

“He knows not to do that,” Lisa said.

“Maybe it wasn’t him. Hold on,” Dean said. He took his lock pick from his jacket pocket and fiddled with the lock. Seconds later, it clicked open. He turned to Lisa with a serious look in his eye. “Okay, so no matter what we find in here you’re going to stay calm, right?”

“I don’t like the sound of that. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Probably no need to worry, but this building was an insane asylum up until 1992, and in my experience, not always, but usually there are some very angry, delusional ghosts in places like these.”

“That’s crazy, Dean. It’s an apartment building now.”

“Just follow my lead,” Dean said, opening the door and walking into the apartment with his sawed-off at the ready. “Perry? Ben? Time to go home.” They moved through the apartment, checking each room in turn but the place was clearly empty. Lisa retrieved Ben’s phone from the living room sofa.

“Is that definitely his?” Dean asked.

Lisa nodded.

Dean peaked around a corner into what looked like a young girl’s bedroom. A feeling of relief washed over him when he saw that the bed was neatly made.

When he opened the doors of the built-in closet the uneasy feeling returned. Set into the plaster wall at the back was an old oak door.

“Wasn’t quite the walk-in closet I was expecting,” Dean said.

Lisa looked over his shoulder.

“That’s strange.”

“Okay, so here’s the deal: I go first. You don’t shoot unless I tell you to. Clear?”

“Who are we shooting at? Is Ben in there?” Lisa sounded panicky.

Dean pulled open the door. A musty blast of cool air hit them as they descended a steep spiral staircase.

“Somehow I don’t think this is on the rental brochure,” Dean said.

At the bottom of the staircase was a vaulted hallway which disappeared into gloom in both directions.

“These must have been used by the doctors and nurses to go between the buildings in the winter,” Dean explained.

“They couldn’t have made it a little more cozy?” Lisa said, shivering in her T-shirt.

Dean walked first into the pitch black of the tunnel. A cold chill ran through him. He took out the EMF again—the needle pinged to the max.

“That’s not good,” he said.

“What? What isn’t good?’ Lisa rushed forward to Dean, but something stopped her. “Ah, Dean?”

Dean glanced in her direction, then quickly pulled her behind him. He lifted the salt-filled shotgun out of her hands and pointed it into the darkness behind them.

BLAMMM! The gunshot echoed through the tunnels.

Out of the gloom a figure appeared. It was the ghost of an old woman in a stained robe. She continued to advance on them.

“Time for your treatment,” she wailed.

Dean shot at her again. But the specter quickly flicked to standing six inches away from Dean’s face. He backed against the wall with Lisa still behind him.

“No exceptions! Every day!” The ghost howled and held her head.

“Move,” Dean hissed urgently.

But it was too late. The ghost shot her hand out, hitting Dean square in the chest. Both guns fell from his hands and he clutched at the collar of his T-shirt, dropping to his knees.

“Can’t... can’t breathe,” he choked. His heart was quickly becoming solid, freezing over.

“Shoot her!” Dean gasped.

Lisa reached for the salt-filled sawed-off and fumbled as she tried to aim it at the ghost.

“Now, please,” Dean croaked as his lips quickly turned blue.

Lisa pulled off a shot. The bullet hit the ghost, dissipating her in an instant.

“I got her!” she said proudly.

“Only for a second,” Dean said getting off his knees and rubbing his chest. He took a canister of salt from his jacket and poured a line across the tunnel. “Let’s go.” Dean grabbed Lisa’s hand and pulled her down the tunnel.

“Ben! Ben! Where are you?” Lisa called.

Two more disgruntled ghosts of mental patients swarmed at them. Dean quickly let off a couple of shots, then poured another salt barrier.

“Mom!” Ben’s small voice echoed faintly through the tunnel.

“Ben?” Lisa called, running forward into the darkness.

Dean yanked free an iron rod that was serving as a railing on the wall. He used it to obliterate each ghost they encountered as they moved quickly forward. Further down the tunnel the low ceilings opened up into a kind of catacomb. Light seeped out from underneath an iron door. Ben called from the other side.

“Hold on, Ben. We’re here,” Dean responded.

“I’m so glad you’ve come to join us,” a voice said.

Lisa and Dean turned. A decidedly older-looking Perry stood behind them. Far from fifteen, she now looked like she was in her early twenties.

“What concerned parents you are,” she mused. “I find it touching. Really, I do. You don’t see that much these days, what with all the divorce. But you two seem to really make it work.” Perry sauntered up to Dean. She was inches away from his face. “Oh, but wait, Ben isn’t your child, is he Dean? But yet, here you are. Still attached. That’s okay though. I don’t mind. I was hoping I could be your baby mama, as they say these days.” Perry laughed.

“In this light you look a little older, Perry. So what are you pushing,” Dean spat at her, “one hundred? Two hundred?”

She eyed him. “If we’re going to have a child together, I might as well be honest. Let’s say somewhere around three hundred-eighteen. But age doesn’t matter when you have a lust like ours. Right, Dean?” Perry pawed at Dean’s chest.

“Lay off, you old slut,” Lisa growled.

“Oh look, mama grizzly made an appearance. Let me tell you something,” Perry turned toward Lisa, “a boy like Ben... Well, you really should be more careful. You wouldn’t want him ending up on Dateline.”

Lisa pulled back and punched Perry in the mouth. A line of blood trickled from her nose. Perry eyed her with shock.

“You have more spunk than I thought.”

“And you have a little mark,” Lisa said indicating Perry’s nose.

“Bitch!” Perry flung her arm aside and Lisa flew across the hallway. She collapsed to the ground, out cold.

Dean faced down Perry.

“So what’s the endgame here, Perry? You part of the killings?”

“You think I have to answer to you? You have no idea how long we’ve waited for this exact moment in time. It’s all happening, and let me tell you, none of us are going to let you stand in our way.” Perry advanced on Dean.

Dean swung the iron rod. Perry stopped it easily with one hand. Dean swung his gun around and aimed it at her, but she knocked the gun away with merely a finger. Dean was empty handed.

Perry shot out her arm and caught Dean by the collar, and then spun around and threw him against the wall. Dean crumpled to the floor, trying to catch his breath.

“You should know that being this old has a lot of advantages. If you’re really nice, I’ll let you in on the little magic secret. Forget all those animals that you hunt—vampires and all. Disgusting. Witchcraft is the real power. Who knew that a little spell and fifty human sacrifices could bring you immortality? But here I am. Living proof.”

“I wouldn’t call what you are ‘living’,” Dean said.

“Of course you would. And it’s something that’s bothered you from the get-go. Dean, you know you have a code of ethics. Are you really going to kill me? After all, I’m human. You don’t want to kill a human. I’m not a monster, after all.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dean said, as he leapt for the iron rod on the floor and swung it at her.

“Tsk. This is grounds for some serious relationship counseling.” Perry grabbed Dean by the throat and pushed him into a corner. “I think we should start this romance on the right foot, don’t you, honey?” Perry swiped the iron rod from Dean and bashed it down on his left foot.

Dean howled in pain.

“There we go. Now I know you can’t run. Just stay here for a little while. I want to get to know my new stepson better.”

Perry flicked her hand and Dean’s wrists magically bound together. She then disappeared into the room beyond the oak door. For an instant Dean caught a glimpse of Ben tied to an old electrical shock chair, then the door slammed shut. Dean struggled against his invisible bonds.