REVOKE ▸ d. winchester [1] ✔

Chapter 44

Dean's POV

"Take a left up here."

I yank the steering wheel sharply, taking little care as I drive through the slushy streets in the dark.

"How much farther?" I ask, agitated.

"Just a mile," Sam says, staring at the bright screen in front of him. I glance over and watch his phone as we move closer and closer to the single red dot on the GPS. Sam was able to track the last location of her phone before we lost connection, but who knows what Azrael has done in the past five minutes.

Just the mere thought makes me push the gas pedal down another inch.

"Dude, slow down. You're gonna get us killed," Sam states just as the back tires begin to fishtail in the snow.

"Azrael, Sam," I point out with a glare his way. "She said Azrael was there."

"I know, I heard. But we won't be able to do anything if we're dead."

Sam, despite his urges for me to drive slower, sits there with an eager face, and I know he wants me to do the exact opposite. I don't say anything nor do I let up on the accelerator. I just stare out the windshield at the oncoming snow. My eyes travel to the dash board and find the time to be 3:18 AM. Time was passing by too fast.

"What the hell could he want this time?" I whisper after a moment. Sam looks over at me and I watch him shake his head. "He's been showing up more and more... Something has to be wrong."

"I don't know. He's got his own agenda." Sam fidgets with the phone in his hands, speaking up a minute later. "Turn right up here. It'll be on the right."

"Dude, we're in the middle of nowhere," I say as the headlights of the impala light up the building on a somewhat deserted looking street. Nonetheless, I pull over to the side of the road and throw the gear into park. The engine is barely off before I'm climbing out, shoving the keys into my pocket, and making my way to the trunk.

Opening it up, I shove aside an assortment of knives and guns, stopping once I find what we need. I hold up an angel blade. When Sam sees it, he nods slowly.

We both know how Cas advises against us using the angelic weapon. But this wasn't the time for Cas's requests. Pistols and bullets wouldn't do us any good this time, and we needed a fighting chance against whatever it was we were going to find inside.

Sam grabs two pistols anyway, along with a flashlight for each of us. He hands me one and, slamming the tunk closed, I nod my head towards the side entrance of the building. We make our way up to the run down structure, treading through piles of built up snow on the unplowed street.

Reaching an old and rusted metal door, we find it unlocked. After a couple shoves by Sam, we are able to slide it open and step inside out of the cold air. Inside isn't much warmer, yet the wind is cut off much to my relief.

The streaks of light coming from our flashlights light up the dusty air. Piles upon piles of boxes and crates line the walls, creating rows of walking space between each of them. I motion for Sam to go one way and he immediately walks off with a flashlight in one hand and a pistol in the other. I do the same in another direction, but I bear the angel blade rather than a pistol.

I make my way between two rows and begin to look around. I have to step over a variety of discarded objects on the ground, leaving boot prints in the dirt underneath my feet.

What are you doing here, Jackie? What could Azrael want with you, here of all places?