Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

56| The Men of Letters' Bunker

After burying Henry, we headed to the coordinates Larry had given us. It was a spot on the outskirts of Lebanon, Kansas where the entrance to a bunker was built into a bank that you wouldn't notice from the road unless you were looking closely. I was a little giddy to see the place because I'd heard all about places like this that the Men of Letters had in the stories my dad would tell me at bedtime growing up. All my memories of the stories had come back while we had been with Henry.

"When was the last time somebody was in this place?" Dean asked.

"Sixty-five, seventy years ago," I grinned, bouncing up and down a little.

He eyed me and I shrugged, leading the way down the short flight of stairs to the door. Dean took the key out of the box Henry gave us and unlocked it. As we entered, we took out our flashlights, shining them over the railing at the level below us. There was a bunch of 1950s style communications equipment.

"Son of a bitch," Dean breathed.

"Look at this," Sam said. "Ham radio, telegraph, switchboard. This was their nerve center."

"Henry did say that they ran dispatch on their own team of hunters," Dean shined his light on a table with a chess board, ash tray, glass and a dirty coffee cup. "Wow. Halfway through their coffee and a game of chess- looks like whoever was manning the hub left quick."

"On the alarm call that ended the Men of Letters."

I opened a switch box, flipping a lever. I giggled as lights came on and I pushed another lever.

"Son of a bitch," Sam swore this time.

I hurried down the stairs, the brothers joining me as we walked through a doorway into a large, attractively furnished room filled with bookshelves, polished wooden floors and large wooden tables.

"Guys, we found the Batcave," I grinned, turning to face Sam and Dean.

⁘

The Men of Letters Bunker was huge. Before bed, I started exploring and found a kitchen that was in desperate need of a re-stock, countless bedrooms and a shower room. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

"You seem really excited about this place," Dean told me once we'd claimed a room a couple doors down from Sam.

"Don't try to deny the fact that you're excited too," I shot back.

"Well, yeah, but you're acting like a kid who just unwrapped the toy they'd been wishing for for Christmas. I'm just happy we have a place to settle in that doesn't have questionable stains everywhere."

I deflated slightly at his words as I thought about Maddie and Zep again. They would both love this place. If they were here, they would each be able to pick out their own rooms. I wouldn't even mind staying behind with them here while Sam and Dean went out on cases. There was plenty of stuff left to explore and the kids would no doubt love to help me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked gently, noticing my change in attitude.

"Do you think we'll ever get them back?"

I knew I didn't have to say their names for Dean to know who I meant, which I was glad for. Just the thought of them was painful, I didn't know if I would be able to speak their names out loud.

"Come here," Dean said, pulling me into his arms. "We're going to get them back. I promise."

The next morning, I stumbled through the maze of hallways until I finally found Sam and Dean back in the library room we'd seen when we first arrived. Sam was looking at one of many, many books sprawled across a table while Dean was playing with what looked like a scimitar behind Sam's back. It was quite the funny picture with his gray bath robe and red slippers.

"This stuff is awesome, and it looks like they ran a real tight outfit here, but I'm just saying, you know, don't, uh, don't think that they had some big secrets that we don't know," Dean was saying.

"Dean... they were a secret society," Sam pointed out, turning to face his brother.

"Which means they made crap up and wore fezzes and sashes and swung around scimitars. They probably didn't even sharp-" Dean hissed as he cut himself on the scimitar. "That's very sharp."

He replaced the sword on its stand on top of a bookshelf as Sam talked to him.

"Dean, look, I think we might have something here – something that could help us, help humanity. Henry certainly thought so. I mean, you know damn well we could use a break. What if we finally got one?"

Instead of answering, Dean looked over and spotted me.

"Morning, Ellie Bear. Sleep well?"

"Mmf," I grunted, pulling out a chair and laying my head down on my arms on the table. "Need. Coffee."

"I was just about to head out and buy some stuff to stock the kitchen," he replied. "Wanna come?"

"Does that mean you're gonna take off the dead guy robe?" Sam asked.

Dean ignored him, heading back down the hall in the direction of our room.

"So, is there any point in trying to talk to you, or should I wait until you've had your caffeine fix?" Sam teased me.

I didn't respond, keeping my head down. It wasn't just that I felt like I needed caffeine, which I certainly did after the rough night of nightmares I'd had all night. It was the subject of said nightmares that had me in such a fowl mood this morning. I was never a morning person, and neither was Dean usually. But clearly, his excitement over the Bunker that I had shared in initially had won out this morning.

I was actually surprised I didn't wake Dean up in the middle of the night. I was 97 percent sure I had thrashed out in my sleep at some point, and I had a vague memory of a strong pair of arms circling around me and pulling me in closer until I relaxed more, but everything was still blanketed under a sleepy haze that wouldn't be lifted until I got my coffee.

"Ready, Ellie Bear?" Dean asked, coming back into the room.

I lifted my head, glaring at him as I stood up and stalked past him toward the stairs.

"We'll be back," Dean shot at Sam and then followed me out to Baby.