fandomhigh | Danger Shop, Thursday period 2

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hunting 101

Danger Shop, Thursday period 2

One nice thing about doing simulations here, John mused as he punched his request into the controls, was that if you had a student who needed a makeup assignment, you didn't have to start over from scratch. The computer stored all the parameters so it was simple as hitting a few buttons.

The senario from last week's hunting class soon filled the room, and John leaned back against the simulation of his Impala to wait for the two students to show up.

[OOC: for

deanforrester and

saltandammo]

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Dean walked into the scenario in the room, a little on edge from his morning caffeine jolt, and maybe more than a little nervous. He thought he knew the drill, but there were a million ways he could screw up. "Morning, sir," he said with a tight smile.

"Morning," John greeted him. "We're just waiting on your partner for this to show up and we can begin."

"Sure, okay," he replied, sliding his hands in his pockets. He figured John would have wrangled one of his sons into helping Dean out, and gave the Impala an appraising look while he waited, remembering it from last time. "Nice car. Really nice."

John looked back at the simulation of his car with a fond expression. "Old cars like this tend to have their own personalities. She's been a good car."

Dean came in, carrying a cup of coffee. "Okay, I'm here," he said around a yawn. "Though I still don't know why you didn't ask Sammy -- isn't this part of his job as your TA?"

"Sam's already run this senario," John replied calmly. "And you I trust to be able to handle yourself and back up Dean."

Dean sighed, sounding mollified at that. "Yeah, okay. I can see that." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Besides, you lost our wager that said you have to do whatever I ask. Outside of the norm," John added with a smile, reaching out and taking the coffee from his son's hand.

Dean sputtered for a moment, but as John continued to just look at him amused, he sighed again and muttered, "Yes sir."

He turned to the other Dean. "You ready?"

Dean blinked at the banter between John and the other Dean, and just tried to stay out of it.

"As I'll ever be, I guess," he said with a crooked grin.

Dean grinned back at the other Dean. "Relax. This'll be a piece of cake."

"I think maybe I have a kind of unfair advantage, considering you've probably wasted much worse than this lots of times before, huh?" Dean said, not feeling too bad after all.

"Don't get cocky, Dean," John warned, not really specifying which Dean he was talking to. He took a deep breath and went into the information about what they were about to face. "This is Lone Pine Highway. The one mile stretch beginning just past that curve has had an inordinate amount of disappearances, going back decades. There have also been stories, told by people who've travelled this highway, about seeing a dark sinister figure on a black horse. Some of the stories go so far as to talk about the figure galloping after them brandishing a sword. Digging deeper into the area's local folklore, you would find a tale of a highwayman hung on a tree somewhere along this road back in Colonial times. His bones are said to be buried among the roots of the tree.

"Your assignment is to lay this ghost to rest without getting yourselves killed or injured. This ghost is very aggressive and dangerous and will attack you on sight. Keep that in mind and act accordingly.

"You'll find a large assortment of weapons and equipment in the trunk of this car; choose what you think you'll need to defend yourselves and get the job done." He paused and let his gaze come to lie on his son who tended to get out of hand when playing with fire. "Starting a forest fire? Will get you a failing mark."

"And I'd really rather not fail when it's not my fault, if it's all the same to you," he said to Dean with a comically raised eyebrow.

"Okay, uh." Dean popped the trunk and looked for a shotgun, loading it clumsily but successfully with rocksalt. He pocketed a handfull of extra cartridges. "I guess we start by looking for a tree somewhere after the bend in the road?" He rummaged around, looking for lighter fluid and matches.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, moving to the trunk and pulling out a shotgun of his own from the trunk, and ammunition, along with an EMF meter. "Lighter fluid's over there," he said, pointing to where it was kept.

"Thanks." Following Dean's hand, he grabbed the lighter fluid and a lighter. "What have you got to put the fire out, after we've started it? I don't think this," he motioned at a flask of holy water, "is really going to cut it."

"Generally with bodies, they're going to be in the ground, so you can just smother them with dirt if they look like they're getting out of control," Dean said. "We can bring a shovel just in case," he added, reaching for one.

"Okay, then, think that's everything." He made one last check in the trunk, figuring he didn't really need the extra weight of iron stuff if he had the salt, then started off down the road.

Dean fell into step beside him, taking out the EMF meter and turning it on as they walked. "I always feel like I should be calling 'come out come out wherever you are' or something when tracking a ghost."

"It does seem kinda weird to just...I don't know, wander around until it shows up. But I guess it's really all you can do," he shrugged, smiling, on the lookout for any particularly old-looking trees. Or, you know. Homicidal ghosts.

Dean's EMF meter suddenly started going off as the sound of horsehooves rang through the night.

"Looks like we're dealing with a prompt ghost," Dean said with a smirk.

"Lucky us?" Dean said, looking worried. He cocked the shotgun, ready, searching around for the apparition.

Dean had the shotgun in one hand, the EMF meter in the other as he turned, trying to narrow down where it was coming from. "From these readings it's practically right on top of us."

"Well, it's doing a really good job of not being right on top of us, considering," he replied, tightening his fingers around the gun.

Suddenly it was there, a horse and rider with a sword, bearing down on them at a full gallop.

"Holy crap!" Dean jumped about a foot in the air before taking aim and shooting it through the heart with rocksalt. Okay, maybe not the heart, but Dean was pretty sure he managed to get it vaguely in the chest/stomach/horse region. Without having a heart attack of his own, which was a plus.

The ghost disappeared when it was hit, letting out a cross between a horse's scream and an unearthly grown that lingered in the night air.

"Nice shot," Dean complimented. "That should buy us a little time." He started heading in the direction the ghost had come from, still looking at the EMF meter.

"...Thanks," Dean said, shaken. He followed behind the other Dean, eyeing anything that looked like a hangman's tree. "It's crazy that you guys do this for a living," he said, trying to break the eerie lingering feeling of...ghostiness.

Dean shrugged. "It's not a job, so much as a way of li-" He broke off as his EMF meter went crazy, pointed directly towards an ancient tree. "I think we've got something here. Does that look like a hanging tree to you?"

"Um, that would be a resounding yes," he said, officially creeped out by its gnarly, hanging-tree-ness. He scrambled among the roots, looking for someplace that looked like a makeshift grave.

The sound of hoofbeats once again could be heard through the night.

Dean shifted so that he had his shot gun up and ready, looking around for the slightest sign of the ghost. "You look for the bones, I'll cover you."

"Got it," Dean replied, taking the shovel to a patch of earth in a likely-looking recess in the roots of the tree. He dug as hard and fast as he could, sure he'd be feeling it tomorrow.

The spirit suddenly appeared again, almost right on top of them. The horse reared and the sword glinted in the moonlight.

Adrenaline racing through his system, Dean fired at it, sending it disappearing in a cloud of smoke and rocksalt with another of those disturbing screaming growls.

He glanced over his shoulder. "I'd take that as a sign we're on the right track."

Dean tried to ignore the freaky noises, the cold feeling of the ghost, the gunshots, everything. Single-minded was good. Very good.

"Yeah, I think I got something," he huffed, sweat dripping into his eyes as he stabbed at the dirt with his shovel. After a few more scoops it was obvious that he'd uncovered some old, decaying bones. Jackpot.

Dean backed up and looked into the hole Dean had dug. "Yep, that looks like it," he said, grinning at the other Dean. "You want to do the honours?"

Dean eased into a smile himself, and grabbed the lighter fluid. "Sure," he said, dousing the bones and lighting them. He grabbed the shovel, ready to pile the dirt back on if the fire spread. "The less forest fire, the better."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I totally agree, even if my dad doesn't think I do. Make one little mistake with a flame thrower and you never live it down."

"To be fair, flamethrower mistakes probably count more than most mistakes," Dean posited as he watched the bones burn. It was oddly soothing, even if it did smell, um. Interesting. He started shovelling as soon as the last bits crumbled to ash, putting out the root that had caught fire in the meantime.

"Yeah, well it's not like I actually set the car on fire," Dean said. "It was just a near miss." He looked down at the remains of the remains and clapped the other Dean on the shoulder. "Not bad. We can make a hunter out of you yet."

"Near miss, right. I'm guessing that wasn't good enough for your dad, though," Dean said knowingly.

He heaved a sigh of relief -- and exhaustion -- and grinned at the other Dean. "Thanks, man. I take that means I passed?"

"I'm not the one doing the marking, but I'd say so, yeah," Dean replied.

"Awesome." He grabbed what he could carry of their equipment and turned to head back to the car and Mr. Winchester.

John was where they had left him, still leaning against the side of the Impala. "Well done," he said when they came back into view. "You got the job done quickly and efficiently. With no extraneous damage to the forest or youselves."

Dean grinned, glad for the praise. "Thanks for setting this up for me, Mr. Winchester," he said. "And you, too, Dean, for helping me out."

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Danger Shop, Thursday period 2

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