After we went to Nazareth and surveyed the crash, we headed back to Jerry's office. "Sulfur," Dean asks. Jerry nods. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."
"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam sighs.
"What's the bad news?"
"Chuck's plane went down exactly 40 minutes into the flight. And get this-- so did Flight 2485," Sam admits.
"40 minutes? What does that mean," Jerry asks.
"It's biblical numerology. Noah's Ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death," I explain.
"I went back, and there has been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in."
"Any survivors?"
"No. Or not until now, at least-- Not until Flight 2485, for some reason. And the cockpit voice recorder-- remember what the E.V.P. said?"
"No survivors," I say. "So, this thing is going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."
*that night*
"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks," Sam says, hanging up the phone. "That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."
"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," I say.
"Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8:00pm. It's her first night back at the job," Sam says.
"Well, that sounds like just our luck."
"Dean, this is a 5 hour drive, even with you behind the wheel," I point out.
"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."
"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off. God, we're never gonna make it."
"Oh, we'll make it," Dean assures him, as he speeds up.
I lean back, sighing. Sam looks back at me, speaking. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I just... it's been three years since I've anything to do with demons, and I'm, uh, a little nervous," I admit.
I almost died because I was possessed by a demon, and that's why I quit. I was traumatized. I do not wanna go through that again.
"You're gonna be okay. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," Sam assures me, giving me a reassuring smile.
"I hope nothing does..."
*In Indianapolis*
We run through the airport and toward the screens. "Right there. They're boarding in 30 minutes," I say.
"Okay, we still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," Dean says. I search the airport when I spot one nearby.
Dean grabs it, speaking. "Hi. Gate 13. I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um... Flight 424. 424." I shift impatiently, tapping my foot nervously.
"Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Headfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here. Nothing serious-- just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so--" Dean is silent for a moment, like he's at a loss for words. "You what? Uh, well... there must be some mistake. Guilty as charged. He's really sorry. Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight, so-- Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic. Oh, yeah. No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda." He hangs up the phone.
YOU ARE READING
One More Time
Fanfiction"Please," Sam says. I look up at him, our eyes meeting. "Just one more time, that's all we're asking for." "One more time," I say, glancing between them. "One more time," Dean nods. "Okay."
