Maddison Winchester: Journal 1 {Supernatural}

13 Route 666: Part 3

We arrived at Cassie's about ten minutes later. She opened the door and instantly hugged Dean. A few moments later, she led us into the living room where her mother was already sitting. Sam and I sat on one of the couch's, Cassie sat on the other, and Dean sat next to her with his arm protectively around her. Cassie informed us that a huge black truck was revving its engine and driving aggressively toward the house, she became shaky, so Sam got up and fixed her a cup of tea.

Cassie took the cup with shaky hands. "Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in this."

Sam sat down. "You didn't see who was driving the truck?"

Cassie shook her head. "It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone... why didn't it kill us?"

"Whatever is controlling the truck wants you afraid first," Dean said.

Sam turned his attention to Cassie's mother. "Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died."

She just sat there, staring at Sam but saying nothing.

"Mom?" Cassie asked.

Mrs. Robinson jumped. "Oh... Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing."

Dean nodded. "Well, after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight... you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die. So, if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it," he said very seriously.

"Dean," Cassie said, trying to stop him.

"Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck." Mrs. Robinson nodded.

Sam perked up. "Did he know who it belonged to?"

She sighed. "He thought he did."

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"Cyrus." Mrs. Robinson choked up. "A man named Cyrus."

Dean pulled a newspaper article he had printed out of his bag and showed her. "Is this Cyrus?"

She looked at the article and then quickly turned away. "Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago."

"How do you know he died, Mrs. Robinson? The paper said he went missing. How do you know he died?" Dean asked softly.

"We were all very young..." She sighed. "I dated Cyrus a while. I was also seeing Martin... in secret, of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin... I don't know. He... changed. His hatred... His hatred was frightening."

"The string of murders," Sam said.

Mrs. Robinson shook her head. "There were rumors, people of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done." Her lip quivered, and she sighed. "Martin and... Martin and I, we were gonna be married in that little church near here, but last minute, we decided to elope 'cause we didn't want all the attention."

"And Cyrus?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Robinson started to cry softly. "The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died."

"Did the attacks stop after that?" Sam asked softly.

She cried harder now and shook her head. "No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible, but Martin... you see, Martin got loose, and he started hitting Cyrus, and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

Dean shook his head. "Why didn't you call the cops?"

"This was forty years ago." She cried.

Dean looked down with sad eyes, understanding the situation now.

Mrs. Robinson continued. "He called on his friends... Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson... and they put Cyrus's body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years."

Sam sighed. "And now all three are gone."

"And so is Mayor Todd," Dean said, "Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?"

Mrs. Robinson took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. "He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus's disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done, he— he did nothing because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

Cassie shook her head with tears in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mrs. Robinson began crying again. "I thought I was protecting them... and now there's no one left to protect."

"Yes, there is." Dean looked at Cassie.

Mrs. Robinson reached her hand out to Cassie, who took it as a tear rolled down her cheek.

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We left the house and stood outside of the car. The boys wanted to discuss what we should do in private, so Cassie and her mother could calm down a little bit.

Sam sighed. "Ahh, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms."

Dean smirked. "So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, occasionally, I miss boring."

Dean sighed. "So, this killer truck—"

Sam smirked. "I miss conversations that didn't start with, 'this killer truck.'"

Dean laughed a little. "All right, well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years."

"So, what woke it up?" Sam asked.

"The construction on his house. Or the destruction," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless."

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?" Sam suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah... and the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus's murder quiet and unsolved."

"So, now his spirit is awakened and out for blood," Sam said.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway."

"You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled at Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Man."

Dean smirked. "You said it."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Cassie walked up to us from the house.

Dean turned to her. "Hey."

Cassie nodded. "Hey. She's asleep... now what?"

"Well, you should stay put and look after her... and we'll be back. Don't leave the house," Dean said.

Cassie smiled. "Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it."

Sam looked at me and chuckled.

Dean glanced back at us and then turned his attention back to Cassie. "Don't leave the house... please?"

Cassie smiled, and then Dean leaned in and gave her a kiss. Which slowly turned into a make-out session. I gave Sam big eyes, and he cleared his throat loudly for them to stop. Dean kept kissing Cassie and held one finger out to us to wait.

Dean pulled away and turned to us. "You comin' or what?" Then he got in the car.

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