Night 60: Road to Doyleton

[freewill]

[From here.]

While it had taken some time for Dean to get the bus started, now there seemed to be little trouble with getting it moving. It was a far cry from the Impala -- even Castiel knew that -- but it seemed like so long as it had a steering wheel and traveled on land, Dean knew how to drive it.

Despite Dean's suggestion, however, Castiel wasn't willing to go sit down, even though there were more than enough seats to choose from. While he doubted that most monsters would be able to get to them when they were in the bus, that didn't mean he was comfortable enough to not keep some sort of look out. Figuring that Dean would need to keep his eye on the road ahead (it wasn't well-lit, after all, and they were surrounded by a thick forest on either side), Castiel took on the task of looking through the windshield at the area around them. He remained standing, slightly to the side from where Dean was sitting, and grabbed for a bar overhead to keep his balance as the bus passed over unsteady ground. If something tried to ambush them, he wanted to be aware of it.

None of this felt particularly safe, but that was almost comfortable for someone like Castiel. What he and Dean were doing now -- it reminded him of past times, of times that Dean had not yet experienced.

"You know the way, correct? There should only be one road." Still, if they got turned around or took a wrong turn, it could turn very bad for them.

Comments

[damned-monsters.livejournal.com]

Two demon hounds were running along the driver's side of the bus, and were having much better luck at shifting the vehicle's centre of gravity. The third, which had run in from the other side, soon joined when it realised which direction the bus would most likely topple in, and began ramming from that side as well. The hounds were smarter than the average institute dogs; huntsmen would settle for no less.

The beasts were still not quite at the level of human intelligence, however. Meat was meat, and the easier it appeared to get at, the stronger the desire to snap it up got. The dog closest to the front of the bus fell hard for Castiel's ploy, letting out a ravenous sound from deep in its throat as its slavering jaws drew closer to the man at the window.

The other two dogs, however, were able to keep ramming away at the bus. The smell of human flesh was lost to the wind further back. So the bus teetered further and further toward the tipping point. Just one or two more hits, and it would likely go over.

And all the while, the huntsmen rode on, listening carefully ahead as the thunderous hooves of his steed sped through the trees.

[freewill]

The way that the bus was swerving and pitching was more severe than Castiel had expected, and in the end he had to grab for the back of one of the seats in order to keep his balance. His other hand was still tightly gripping his blade as he waited for one of the hounds to come to him.

It didn't take long, thankfully, as it was becoming more and more clear that this needed to be dealt with quickly. The problem was that there were three of them and only one of him.

As the dog's gaping mouth snapped up toward the window, Castiel leaned forward. He was putting himself in danger, but this would be the only way to get a hit in on the creature, and as things were he had the more advantageous position. He waited for the dog to jump up again and then slashed out with his sword, aiming for its eyes.

The other two hounds were still ramming the bus, however, and they were strong enough that Dean might not be able to keep it upright. Castiel wasn't sure how much further it was until they reached the town, but he doubted Dean could keep the bus going for that long.

Which meant that he needed a proper distraction.

Castiel pulled away from the window and started down the aisle. "Keep driving!" he called back to Dean over his shoulder as he moved toward the exit doors at the middle of the bus. "I'll try to draw them away."

[kindalikedit]

"How?" Dean yelled over his shoulder, tempted to look but not daring too.

Seriously -- and he knew this was way too life and death to be thinking about this -- did Castiel expect to "draw them away" when they were in a bus? Unless he planned to jump right out and pull a Van Damme which...yeah. Might look cool but that was about it.

Dean had to fight more and more with the wheel and the bus itself against the dogs trying to flip them. Was this what hell-hounds looked like? They made black dogs look like pussies in comparison, these things probably some of the ugliest things he'd ever seen (and this was speaking from years of experience here). All he knew was he took one look at those damn teeth and claws as they banged up against the window and decided he wasn't too jazzed at the idea of running into those for an up close and personal experience. Dean jerked the wheel, the bus skidding and starting to fishtail on him.

Whatever Castiel had in mind, he hoped he was already doing it.

The bus shifting weight again felt like it was in slow mo. Dean knew in that long second that this time they were going into a roll no matter what he did and there was just no stopping in. He remembered throwing himself down the aisle, trying to push himself somewhere where he wouldn't go flying out the window.

And that was when the world suddenly turned upside down, glass exploding everywhere as metal shrieked and twisted.