Daughter of the Legend: Soul on Fire (#Wattys2018)

Chapter Nineteen: Roadhouse

"Rachel." It was barely audible. "Rae?" I stirred slightly. "Rachel!" I felt pressure on my calfs. Snapping out of sleep in a heartbeat, I reached for the blade tucked in my pillowcase.

"Easy! Kid, easy!"

"Dean?" I snapped, "Dad, what the hell!"  My father was crouched in front of me, one hand on my leg, the other raised to stop me from accidentally stabbing him.

"Get dressed, we have to go."

"Dad, what the-What are you talking about?" But Dean didn't say anything else. He stood. He turned. He left. My mouth hung open, and the cool November night air creeped through my long sleeved shirt, making me shiver. Looking to the left and right, Claire, Cassidy, and Krissy were all still soundly asleep. Nervously, I began to wonder if this was another dream. A segment of the coma world or a leftover fragment of the hallucinogen. Anymore, I couldn't really trust the reliability of my mind. There was a lot of healing that was trying to happened, and at this point, either reality was possible.

Shimmying out of the wonderfully warm sleeping bag, I tiptoed across the room and grabbed my duffle bag. Creeping down the stairs, wincing as the cold wood floors creaked beneath my feet, I was left to the suspense of my father's cryptic wake up call. Checking my phone for the first time, I cringed at the brutal 2:50 am that nearly blinded me in the dark hallway.

"Dean, what the hell?" I whispered to myself. This was weird, especially for him. When I finally made it to the first floor, I saw two figures by the front door. Standing there in the middle of the night in my black long sleeve shirt and thermal pajama bottoms with my duffle bag at my feet.

"Dean?" I asked, "What's going on?"

"Morning Rae." Bentley's voice caught me off guard, I thought it was Sam standing there.

"Bentley?" I looked back and forth between the two men. Again, I repeated, "What's going on?"

"Grab your boots and coat, we will explain on the way." Dean replied, opening the front door. The frigid air, cut through me with ease. Dean didn't wait for me to agree, he simply went out the door. Bentley gave me a soft glance before following him outside. Again, I was left standing in a dark hallway, perplexed. Slipping my feet into my boots and grabbing my leather jacket plus a scarf, I stumbled out the front door.

The puffs of my breath glowed in the November moonlight. Dean and Bentley were...rolling the Impala?

The two men were pushing the silent car down the gravel driveway.

"Guys!" I hissed, "What the actual hell?" All I received was a waving hand to follow. Looking around me like I was a character from "The Office," I shivered and followed. The first snow of the year was starting to fall.

When the Impala reached the chainlink  gate, Dean pressed his foot onto the brake, bringing the whole operation to a halt. We climbed into the car, and turned over the engine. Again, nothing was explained.

Looking through the fogging windows, begging for the heater to warm the interior of the Impala.

"Can you tell me what's going on, now?"

"Remember how I told you I'd take you to a roadhouse when you were old enough?" Bentley said, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Yeah?"

"Well, congrats you're old enough." The way the words fell made me uneasy.

"What..." I pointed at Dean.

"We've got to figure out what is destroying roadhouses." Dean replied, cold and harsh. Two of the men I trusted most were being so cryptic and vague, and quite frankly, I was beginning to hope this was just some weird ass dream.