Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

61| Turns Out, Chuck Shurley is God

Deputy Harris was just parked in her police van in the middle of the street. Several pedestrians had stopped to stare as we approached her, guns out.

"Hey, get them out of here," I nudged Sam.

He walked over, flashing his badge as he told them he needed them to evacuate. Dean and I continued to walk toward the van as Harris climbed out. Black veins had spread throughout her body and she held a pistol in one hand.

"I tried to kill myself," she told us blankly. "But he won't let me. He has a message- for you, Eleanor Winchester."

"Amos?" I assumed. "Is he here?"

"No. But his words have been echoing in my head ever since I took a breath of that fog."

"Did he tell you to kill your husband?"

"And I watched myself do it," she confirmed.

"Okay, listen to me, this is an infection," Dean told her. "Put the gun down, let us help you-"

"It's not an infection," Harris shook her head. "He says, it's a mirror. He's showing us all the truth."

"Darkness," I swallowed.

"The Light was just a lie."

Harris raised her gun, pointing it at me, but then was shot two times in the chest. She leaned back on the mirror of her car, and then fell onto the ground. Dean and I turned to see the sheriff was the one who shot her. I turned back, crouching down to check on the deputy.

"It'll all be over soon," she whispered blankly. "He's not gonna save them. It's all going away... forever. But not you, Eleanor."

I stared at her as she died in front of me.

"Dean! Ellie!"

We both looked over to see Sam pointing down the street behind us. Turning in that direction, we were faced by an endless cloud of fog enveloping everything in its path. We immediately sprang into action, getting as many people off the streets as we could before heading to the police station ourselves.

"Agent Williams?" the sheriff looked at me. "Radio's dead."

"You have any duct tape?"

He got three rolls out, handing them to me.

"Guys? Guys," I called over to Sam and Dean.

They turned away from where they had been looking out at the fog and I tossed them each a roll. We all started sealing all the cracks in the windows, doors, and vents. The sheriff checked on the people we'd sent in from the street while we worked. As we finished up, Dean pulled out his phone, not getting a signal. When Sam and I checked, our phones were the same way.

"Guys?" Sam asked, gaining mine and Dean's attention. "You hear that?"

We walked over to the front doors and heard shouting coming from outside. Dean locked the door as two of the infected walked up and tried to break in. As we tried to retain some modicum of control, it became clear fast that the fog was getting inside the station. Sam began to cough and Dean and I looked over to see black tendrils making their way through his veins.

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

"Dean," I whispered, looking at his hands.

He looked over at me, then followed my gaze to see the black veins appearing on his hands as well.

"Folks, we need to stay together, okay?" the sheriff was assuring the people.

"Guys," I looked between Sam and Dean.

"No, no," Dean shook his head, moving closer to Sam and away from me. "Get back. Don't."

"My God, they're infected," the sheriff said.

Dean had started coughing like Sam, both of them on the floor.

"Everybody, get inside!" I yelled over my shoulder.

"Everybody!" the sheriff echoed, shepherding the people towards the other room. "Come on! Let's go! Get in here!"

"No, I'm not leaving them," I shook my head.

A brick flew through the window and more fog started filling the room as I worked on sealing the room everybody else had gone in. Sam and Dean were trying to seal the broken window, but they were both coughing and struggling too much.

"Sammy! Dean!" I cried, hurrying over to them before I could finish sealing the door. "Hey! Listen to me!"

"We're not gonna make it," Sam choked.

"No, no, no," I shook my head. "There's no quitting here."

"We're never gonna make it," Dean added blankly.

"Guys, listen to me. That's not you talking. It's the fog."

"You were gonna choose Amos over us," Dean continued. "Over everything."

"Dean, no," I shook my head furiously, tears in my eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry," he apologized in his normal voice. "I didn't mean that, Ellie Bear. We can't fight this. You got to go. You got to get out of here before you're infected."

The fog started moving toward the room full of people, getting through the crack I didn't seal.

"Go before we hurt you!" Dean yelled at me.

"No, I'm not leaving you- ever!"

Sam and Dean both gasped and grunted. I took a deep breath, realizing the fog wasn't affecting me. Turning, I noticed the fog had reached the people in the other room. Furious, I looked skyward, screaming.

"STOP THIS! YOU HEAR ME, YOU DICK?!!"

Around us, the screaming and banging suddenly stopped.

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No!" I cried, looking at Sam and Dean, who'd become still. "Hey, hey look at me. Look at me. I'm right here. I'm right here. Okay, it's okay. It's alright. I'm right here. I'm right here."

If I had wings like Noah's dove,
I'd fly up the river to the one I love.
Fare thee well, Oh Honey, fare thee well.

As I crouched in front of Sam and Dean, I noticed something glowing in Dean's pocket. Reaching into it, I brought it out to find it was the amulet Sam had given him that he'd thrown away. I looked between him and Sam in surprise.

I knew a man, who was long and tall,

The sheriff and the rest of the people exited the other room, unaffected by the fog which had cleared up in the police station. The brothers and I stood up, staring at the glowing amulet in my hand.

He moved his body like a cannonball.
Fare thee well, Oh Honey, fare thee well.

We headed outside the station, realizing the fog had cleared up everywhere. The amulet continued to glow as we made our way down the steps.

'Member one night, in the drizzlin' rain,
and around my heart I felt an achin' pain.
Fare thee well, Oh Honey, fare thee well.

Deputy Harris got up, alive, by her car and looked over to see her husband. We watched as the couple embraced.

One of these days, and it won't be long,
you'll call my name and I'll be gone.
Fare thee well, Oh Honey, fare thee well.

As we made our way down the street, we saw someone helping one of the victims get up.

Fare thee well.

"You okay?" the man asked the victim.

"Thanks," the girl told him. "Mom!"

She ran over to an older woman, hugging her. The man who'd helped her up turned to us, and we recognized him as Chuck. We stared at him, then down at the amulet still in my hand, which was glowing brighter than before in his presence.

"We should probably talk," Chuck addressed us.