Monachopsis

Chapter LXVII: Jefferson Sunrise

"You better hurry up and beat it before the paramedics get here." Bobby walked us to the front door.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean asked.

In the other room, Meg's body was still on the floor. We had covered her with a blanket, but the stark image of her corpse on Bobby's living room floor made it hard to breathe, like my lungs were being squeezed by a boa constrictor. 

Bobby scoffed. "You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "We don't mind staying."

Bobby shook his head. "I'm sure. Here. Take this. You might need it."

He handed Sam the book he'd been reading earlier: The Key of Solomon. It was monstrous, about the size of Sam's chest.

"Thanks," Sam said.

Bobby nodded. 

"Thanks...for everything," Dean grumbled. "Be careful alright?"

"Just go find your dad," Bobby said. "And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time."

That got a laugh out of me. It was muted and breathy; more of a huff than anything else. But it made the air feel just a little bit lighter. I stepped forward without really thinking and wrapped my arms around Bobby. The sudden embrace seemed to surprise him. Hie whole body stiffened. For a moment, I was afraid I'd gone too far. But then he relaxed and patted my back.

I pulled away after a moment. Bobby awkwardly patted my shoulder, and I gave him a smile as we headed out the door. We filed out of the house and Dean closed the front door behind him.

I said, "Jefferson City is a seven-and-a-half hour drive."

Dean jogged passed me to the car and yanked his door open. "Then we better get moving."

There was a different kind of energy in the car after we took off.  It was the third time in as many days that we were racing across state lines. The timid hope that we shared between each other was vignetted with exhaustion. We were running on adrenaline and whatever caffeine we could snag during bathroom breaks. The strength we were relying on to keep moving was so brittle that Dean didn't even turn on the radio, like his loud music would shatter us completely.

My mind was a tornado of racing thoughts. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours seemed like a fever dream. Confronting the demon at the Holt House in Salvation, Meg chasing us all the way to Bobby's house in Sioux Falls, the interrogation, the exorcism, Meg's death and the information she gave us. It was all so surreal. None of it felt true.

And yet only one thing kept surfacing in the forefront of my mind: Meg's insistence that someone very powerful wanted me dead. I racked my brain for hours, trying to pinpoint anyone that would want me gone so badly, but no one came to mind. I didn't know very many people, and those that I did know, I knew professionally. Hunters could be competitive when it came to prey, but I had never heard of one being so proud as to kill another hunter. One thing all of us agreed on is that we needed every single hunter out there. We were spread out and in short supply; hunters died on the job everyday. 

So who could possibly be so determined to off me that they would send demons to my house? Yellow-Eyes. It had to be. But it still didn't make any sense. Why go after me more than he went after Sam or Dean, or even John? They were hunting him, not the other way around. Why was he seeking me out? What made me so special?

Jefferson City was located in the center of Missouri. We didn't have much to go on regarding how to find John, just what Meg had told us: That he was in a building near the river. Sunrise.