Roads of Reckoning

Dead Man's Blood

July 27, 2006

I stare out the window of the cafe, fiddling with the coffee cup in my hands. I feel like an idiot. I shouldn't be mad at Sam for kissing Sarah, besides, it was weeks ago and he had every right. They would have been good together.

"Demi? Hello?" Sam nudges my side.

"Hm? Sorry what?" I snap my head back to them.

"Welcome back." Sam smiles. "We might have another case."

I nod and turn my attention to them.
"Ahh, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam reads.

"Elkins?" Dean tilts his head. "I know that name."

"Doesn't ring a bell." Sam shrugs. "Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery."

Dean flicks to a page in his Dad's journal and taps a page.
"There, check it out."

I scoot closer and look at the name on the page. Daniel Elkins.

"You think it's the same Elkins?" Sam asks.

"It's a Colorado area code." I point out.

•———————————————————————•
I pocket my lock pick as we push the door to the rusty cabin open. Dean sweeps his flashlight around the room. It's messy and looks like it hasn't been lived in for a while.

"Looks like the main didn't come." He says.

We move inside and something crunches under my boot. I lift up my foot, it's salt.

"Hey, there's salt over here. Right beside the door."

"You mean protection against demons salt or, 'oops I spilt the popcorn' salt." Dean asks as he flicks through a book.

"It's clearly a ring." Sam says, standing beside me. "You think this Elkins was a player?"

"Definitely." Sam and I stand behind Dean as he flicks through what looks to be a journal.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's." Sam says.

"Yep, except this dates back to the 60s."

I move into another room and look around, there's a large hole in the roof.
"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." I say.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." Dean says. I nod in agreement. The room is trashed. Papers strewn across the floor, broken chairs.
Dean crouches down to get a closer look at the floor.

"There's some scratches on the floor."

"Death throes maybe?" Sam suggests.

"Yeah maybe." He picks up a piece of discarded paper, places it over the top and rubs a pencil to get an outline.
"Or maybe a message."
He holds up the paper. There are some characters.
"Look familiar?"

"Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box." Sam says. "It's a mail drop."

Dean nods.
"Just the way Dad does it."

•———————————————————————•
Sam holds the envelope from the mail box in his hands.
"'J.W.' You think? John Winchester?"

Dean shrugs.
"I don't know. Should we open it?"
There is a knock on Dean's window. We all jump and turn. It's John. He grins at our shocked faces and opens the door to the back seat. I slide along to let him in and sit behind Sam.