Chapter Text

November 1, 2006.

WEDNESDAY

Dean tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel to the rhythm of Eye of the Tiger. His stomach was full and he had a full tank of gas. Even after seeing his father earlier, that day was starting to turn around—

Dean slammed his foot down on the brake.

Someone had run out into the road—

Thunk!

—and got clipped against Baby’s fender.

“Shit!”

Once the car came to a screeching stop, Dean put it in park and hurried out of the car. He’d definitely gotten too comfortable with the idea of having a good day.

The man in a suit was already trying to get back to his feet.

“What the hell are you doin’, man?” Dean hurried over, taking the man’s arm.

“I have to—I have to—”

Then the man collapsed.

“Dude!” Dean nearly went down with the man, barely able to cushion his fall.  “The only thing you gotta do is sit your ass there for a minute. Damn,” He pulled his flip phone from his leather jacket. He got back to his feet as he tried dialing 911. Just his luck, the call dropped. Dean rolled his eyes and tried again, stepping back to slightly check on his car. At least the man didn’t dent his car.

But did the car… dent the man?

Dean turned back to the man as he fiddled with his phone.

Oddly dressed to be running through a back road. A suit and trench coat? What was it, the 90s again? There was a small red smear coming from the man’s dark hair. Not good. But besides him limping and passing out he… he seemed fine.

“Shit—I got no signal, man. Imma… can you make it to my car?”

“I…” the man sighed. “I have to get to Los Altos.”

“You know we’re in Nevada—?”

“My family is there. I have to get to them. I have to—”

“Los Altos… that’s close to Stanford, right?”

“Yes.”

Dean squatted close to the man, snapping his phone shut. “Look, how about I drive us there? I can crash at my brother’s and you can… not press charges?”

The man met his eyes, and only then did Dean notice how blue his eyes were. 

“I don’t think you understand the severity of what is happening.”

“What’s happening?” Dean asked dryly.

“The dead… they’re…”

Dean nodded slowly. Okay, maybe the man had a real brain injury. Dean wasn’t driving that fast.

“...not staying dead. They’re attacking everything. Everyone! I have to—”

“Zombies?” Dean asked flatly. “You ran into the road because of zombies?”

“I ran because I have to get to my family.” The man moved to stand once more. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

“Look man… I don’t. But, if you really need to find them, my offer’s still open.” Dean gestured to his car.

The man pressed a hand to the side of his head and grimaced before dropping it. “I would… appreciate that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m Castiel.”

Dean offered his hand, “Dean.”

Castiel took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Let’s get you to your family, okay?”

October 31 , 2006.  

TUESDAY

“Class is canceled this week.”

Sam turned to his girlfriend and smiled, “Seriously?” he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess more students caught the dreaded flu.” Jess dropped onto the couch next to him.

Sam draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“Gives us more time to get ready for the party,” she looked up at him, eyes hopeful.

Sam sighed. “Jess, you know I don’t like parties.”

“I know, but you also said that you couldn’t go due to class… and now there is no class.” She smiled in that way that nearly always got her what she wanted from him.

He sighed long and drawn out. “As long as I don’t have to dress up—”

“Deal!” She scooted off the couch, spinning to face him. “But can you do me a favor?”

“Besides going to the Halloween party?”

She nodded, “Can you pick up some liquor? I told Skye I’d get some for her.”

“Is everyone going to be over 21?”

Jess scoffed, setting a hand on her hip, “Are you a cop?”

“No. I just don’t want to get kicked out of Stanford.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Yeah. And Leo’s playing bartender. I’ll tell him to make sure that no younglings fall victim to the Dark Side. Okay?”

Sam smiled. “Alright. Alright.” He stood, swiping his keys off the coffee table.

“I’m gonna get ready.” She stepped into his space, taking his shoulders in her hands, “Drive safe.”

“Yeah,” he leaned close to give her a kiss—

POP!

Jess gasped. “What idiot is setting off fireworks now?”

“The drunk youth,” Sam quipped, stole his kiss then marched to the door. He had to go before campus police decided to call real cops on the pyromaniacs.

Tonight might not be his type of fun, but he decided he would enjoy it at least.

TUESDAY

Sam couldn’t believe how many emergency vehicles were in town that day. He counted at least two ambulances, two fire trucks, and five cop cars. Halloween was already a rave and the sun hadn’t even gone down yet.

Sam pulled into an empty side street, thankful to God that he didn’t have to parallel park. Small miracles.

As Sam walked into the store, more fireworks were going off down the streets. It was still too bright out to see any of the actual light show, but it was uncomfortably close.

That’s what he gets for living in a college town.

He walked into the local liquor store. The cashier was out for the moment, but someone else was in there with him, so he was sure the store was still open. He quickly checked his watch—nearly 6.

Sam hurried to the back where the liquor was stored when he noticed something odd.

The bathroom door was barricaded with a chair propped under the handle.

Sam slowly tilted his head. There was no sign on the door signaling that it was closed.

Sam looked around then, perhaps against his better judgment, he took the chair in his hand and pulled it aside. Then he opened the door, slowly, as to not make any noise. He really didn’t need to get kicked out of his favorite store over a bathroom.

Sam froze.

Inside, there was a man. Kid? Sat on the floor, arms curled around his knees. Dirty blonde hair fell over his face hiding any features.

“Hey…” Sam breathed, not sure if the word even came out until the boy’s head popped up, wide blue eyes locking onto his. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, like he had been crying. Sam figured the kid may be around 14. Maybe 15.

The kid jumped to his feet, racing to Sam—making him feel as if he may have made a mistake.

“You have to help my mom,” the boy said, looking too young all of a sudden.

“Wh–why the hell are you locked in here?”

“My mom told me to get in— we were attacked— th–there was a man dressed like a zombie and he— he– she was bleeding and—”

Sam raised his hand, “Hey, hey, slow down. It’s okay—”

A wet scream rang out in the store and something got knocked over.

“Mom—?”

The kid moved to get out, when Sam’s instinct kicked in and he shoved the kid back into the bathroom.

There, standing close to an aisle’s endcap, was a woman that made his blood go cold. She leaned to the side as if she was missing vertebrae. Down her ashen arm was a sticky trail of half-dried blood.

As if someone had reached inside his stomach and clenched his guts, Sam suddenly felt sick.

Her eyes— God, her eyes —were blood-red as if every vain had burst and her dark straight hair curtained around her like she was a Little House on the Prairie Samara. Her long floral dress was splattered with red. Suddenly, Sam figured it out.

It was a prank.

A stupid Halloween prank.

Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. And then he laughed. “Alright. Alright, yeah. You almost got me.”

The woman opened her mouth and a pool of thick, black blood dripped from her mouth.

The smell. God, the sickly sweet smell made him gag. That… that couldn’t be faked. That was internal bleeding and decay.

The woman stumbled closer, mouth creaking farther open.

“Mom!”

The boy pounded on the door.

“Mom, let me out! Mom, please!”

The woman blinked and something washed over her face. Her jaw clicked as she slowly turned towards the door.

Sam slowly took a step back, watching.

The woman, as if forgetting that Sam was there, stumbled towards the shaking door.

Curious, Sam raised his hand and waved it in the woman's peripheral. Nothing. Not even a noise. 

“Kid!” Sam called over the noise. “Be quiet for a second, okay buddy?” he asked, eyes on the woman as she turned quickly at his voice.

The shop fell into silence.

The woman looked around, turning her head from side to side, and only then did Sam notice that the woman was breathing hard, as if it were hard for her to move.

Sam stood completely still, observing her like he would a deer, back when he would hunt with his brother and father. One wrong move and she could bolt.

“Sam? Are you still—?”

The woman spun around so fast, it made Sam jump before the woman slammed into the bathroom door.

The kid yelped.

The woman bashed and slammed and roared as she pounded on the door.

“Ma’am,” Sam hurried forward. The woman was clearly sick. Could rabies even get someone to act like that? Like a fucking zombie? “Hey—”

The woman swung around, backhanding Sam in the face, her bracelet cutting his cheek.

He stumbled back, knocking into a shelf, but before he could catch his balance the woman was at him again.

He grabbed her arms, trying to keep her at arm's length.

Jack was shouting something, but all Sam could say was: “Open the door and get out of there! Now!”

The door opened and Jack stumbled to the side, sliding into the corner.

Sam pushed the woman back, but even at her tallest being around 5’5”, Sam was struggling. It took everything in him to shove the woman into the bathroom

She slid into the room and slammed into the wall.

Sam grabbed the door and swung it shut, knocking his shoulder into the door to keep it shut.

Sam looked up, meeting Jack’s watery eyes.

The door shuddered as the woman slammed against it again. 

Sam grit his teeth. “Get the chair.”