INT. GARAGE - DAY
The Impala was mostly covered by a tan tarp, but the trunk was clear. Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and looked inside. He took out his sawed-off shotgun, checked the rounds, and put it away. He closed the trunk, locked it, put the keys in his toolbox, and let the tarp settle back over the trunk of the Impala. He left the garage with a box labeled "KITCHEN."
INT. DEAN AND ELINOR'S HOUSE
Dean and Elinor were unpacking boxes. She kept glancing at him with a frustrated expression.
"What's up?" Dean asked.
"Nothing," Elinor replied.
"At least wait until you've checked the place out before you hate it. Open mind, that's all I ask."
"Yeah, all right." She stood. "I'll be back."
"Oh, hey. Where's the fire?"
"Just going to check out the block."
"And let me unpack the kitchen by myself? Come on. We'll go for lunch later. Scope out the neighborhood. Right?"
"Yeah, sounds like a plan." He smiled at her. "Come on, why don't you give me a hand?"
Dean and Elinor left the room together.
EXT. VICTIM'S HOUSE
Cop cars were on the street and policemen walked it and out the front door of a house surrounded by crime scene tape. Sam spoke to a detective while holding a flyer for a missing child in his hand.
"Where'd you find them?" Sam asked.
"We found the parents upstairs," the detective replied. "Pretty brutal."
"Break in?"
"No, alarm never went off."
"Any leads on the baby?"
"None yet."
"So what do you think? Think it's okay? Alive?"
"I did yesterday."
"Thank you." Sam walked up the path towards the house, ducking under the crime scene tape that blocked it off.
INT. DEAN AND ELINOR'S HOUSE
The doorbell rang. Dean opened the door to reveal a pizza delivery man.
"There you go," Dean said. "Keep the change."
"Thanks," the pizza delivery man replied.
"Thanks." Dean turned to see Elinor standing behind him. "What?"
"I thought we were going out?" Elinor answered.
"Oh yeah, I forgot. I'm sorry."
"Sure. I'll go look for plates." She left the room, muttering to herself.
EXT. VICTIM'S HOUSE
Sam left the house and spoke to Samuel on the phone. "Hey. So, I've been all over this. No sulfur. No EMF. I'm starting to think maybe it's not our kind of thing."
"Four couples slaughtered in one part of the state within days of each other. That's four babies taken from locked houses. Damn it! Explain to me how any version of that is natural."
"No, no, I agree. It's awful. I'm just saying this one might be on the police."
"Okay, so either we've got monsters grabbing babies to make baby stew, or we've got a bunch of psychotic yokels grabbing babies to make baby stew. Either way, it's baby stew, which is bad." Sam sighed. "Am I boring you? You got someplace you need to be?"
YOU ARE READING
American Storm
Mystery / ThrillerSam is mysteriously back after a year, or so they think. And he's not the only one. The hunters discover one has betrayed them to open a door to monster land. But trust goes both ways and one doesn't handle betrayal well. The door is opened, bring...