Sam spent the most unbearable three days curled up on the cot in the basement. The scarlet red in his eyes gradually faded back to its original hazel color.
Bai Haorui created a quiet space in the utility room of the backyard and spread the futon for three days - Horseman Famine's arousing desire itself came from himself, and he also needed to retreat for a few days to calm down his heart.
The two brothers rested for two days, and Dean was busy polishing Impala inside and out. When they were so busy, they took Sam to deal with a small case of coyotes eating livestock.
The case was simple and there were no accidents. Excluding the four days of rushing, the work was finished in the middle of the afternoon. Impala drove back along the interstate highway. When passing by Sioux Falls, a murder report was broadcast on the car radio, causing Dean to slam on the brakes.
Thunderclouds were heavy over the Sioux Falls trailer park. Lead-gray clouds rolled across the sky wrapped in muffled thunder. Heavy raindrops hit the roof of the tin truck, making a crackling sound like a dense drumbeat.
Benny·Sutton's trailer doors and windows were closed tightly, and the commentary on wildebeest migration floated on the old TV. The sour smell of beer foam in the carriage floated in the small and stuffy space.
Benny collapsed on the broken sofa and drank beer. He pinched the salt-baked soybeans with his fingertips and threw them into his mouth. The light from the TV reflected on his greasy face, which was full of unexplained drunkenness.
He didn't notice at all that the latch on the window edge was quietly pried open with an iron piece. Raindrops slid along the window frame and fell on the floor, leaving a small dark mark.
A figure rolled in wrapped in the cold air, holding a sharpened revolver in his hand. His trouser legs were stained with yellow mud, and there were pine needles on the tips of his shoes.
Benny turned around when he heard the noise, but the gun was already pressed against his head.
The moment he saw the person's face clearly, his pupils shrank suddenly and his lips trembled as he wanted to beg for mercy, but only a huffing sound came out of his throat.
The muffled sound of gunshots cut through the sound of rain, leaving him no room.
Blood splashed on the yellowed box wall, and ferocious flowers bloomed.
Benny fell in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and he was no longer breathing.
There was no trace of panic in the figure's eyes, only uncontrollable hatred.
He slowly put away the gun, wiped the gun body, and left along the original path through the window. The rain quickly washed away the footprints on the window edge, leaving only a faint trace of mud.
At noon the next day, the rain stopped and the sky was as overcast as a gray cloth soaked in water.
Impala parked in front of Digger Wells' car repair shop. The smell of diesel fuel mixed with rust hit his face, an oilcloth was draped on the broken truck body, and a half-smashed cigarette butt was thrown on the ground.
Sam and Dean walked down wearing stiff fake FBI uniforms. The soles of their leather shoes were stained with some machine oil. Dean rubbed the gravel on the ground unhappily.
Digger was leaning against the car door with a cigarette in his mouth. He was in his forties, his beard was stained with oil, his work clothes and vest had been worn to a shiny shine, and he had a scornful look on his face.
Dean tapped the notepad with his fingertips and raised his eyebrows to ask him to recount last night's situation. Digger put on airs and asked them to call him "Big Digger". Dean couldn't help but sneer, "How can anyone give themselves a nickname? Are you a rapper?"
Digger snarled back, asking in a rough voice who was dead, and why he had to bother the FBI to be the chief of staff.
Sam calmly interrupted the bickering between the two of them, brought the topic back to the case, and said in a calm tone, "What did you see about the murder in the trailer park last night?"
Digger slowly blew out a smoke ring and said that he saw Clay Thompson climb through the window and get into Benny's trailer. He came out a few minutes later, and then Benny died completely.
Sam took out his cell phone, tapped quickly with his fingertips, and hacked into the local police station's database to retrieve Clay's information - the man in the photo was in his early thirties, with strong eyebrows, and there was a line at the bottom of the file: Date of death, November 12, 2004, killed by shotgun discharge.
He handed the phone to Dean. Dean glanced at it, frowned suddenly, and turned the screen to Digger: "Are you sure it's this person?" Digger only glanced at it and nodded, saying that although the person was covered in mud, his face was unmistakable.
Dean took half a step forward and stared into his eyes. "Then do you know that Clay Thompson died five years ago?"
Digger was not surprised at all. He snorted and stamped out the cigarette butt, saying of course he knew.
Five years ago, Benny killed Clay in a "hunting accident". Now, it is only natural that they crawl back from the grave to take revenge.
The two brothers looked at each other and saw solemnity in each other's eyes.
Sam frowned and closed the phone, rubbing his fingertips on the edge of the notepad - the revenge of a single deceased soul made sense, but "climbing out of the grave", having a physical body, and killing people with a gun was definitely not something that ordinary ghosts could do. He had a vague hunch in his heart that this was not an isolated case, but more like some kind of large-scale supernatural event.
The clicking sound of boots on the gravel ground came from far and near, and Sheriff Jody·Mills walked over.
She is about thirty years old, with short dark brown hair neatly tucked into a police cap, her uniform is neatly ironed, the metal badge on her shoulder straps glows with cold light, her eyebrows are sharp, and her eyes carry undisguised scrutiny.
She scolded Digger first, telling him to stop causing trouble, shut his bad mouth and go back to work. She turned to introduce herself to the brothers and her tone was a bit interrogative, "I am the police chief here Jody·Mills. Which department are you from? Why are you gossiping with a drunkard here?"
Dean immediately reported a false identity, saying that they were the FBI coming to investigate Benny Sutton's murder case. Jody raised a sarcastic smile on his lips, crossed his arms and asked, "The FBI is still involved in the ridiculous case of 'dead man murder'? Why didn't I receive a notification from my superiors?"
Dean still wanted to defend, but Jody interrupted him directly, asked where their jurisdiction was, and said that they would call their supervisor immediately to verify.
Dean bit the bullet and handed over the number Bobby, and said "call me casually" with a stiff neck, but actually my heart was already beating.
Jody immediately took out his cell phone and dialed the number. The moment the call was connected, the deep voice of Bobby, pretending to be serious, came from the other end.
Dean had just breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Jody speak unceremoniously, "Bobby·Singer, your ticket for poaching wild deer last month is still in my drawer, what can an FBI superior do?"
She demoted Bobby like a barrage of words, saying that he was a troublemaker in the town with a record of alcoholism and fraud. She warned the three of them not to cause trouble in the town. After saying that, she hung up the phone, turned around and walked away in a smooth stride.
Dean's face turned dark and he cursed in a low voice. Sam sighed helplessly and said that he would go back to Bobby's house and ask about it first. This matter was less than five miles away from his house, so there was no way he hadn't heard anything about it.
When Impala stopped at the door of Bobby's house, both of them were stunned for a moment.
The yard that was usually filled with scrap tires and shotgun parts was actually tidied up, and even the weeds were pulled out. The smell that came out of the house was not the smell of whiskey and old books, but the fragrance of lemon detergent.
Pushing the door open, Bobby was sitting on the sofa, cleaning his shotgun. He didn't smell of alcohol, and the tabletop was clean, even the commonly used glass ashtray was polished to a shiny finish.
He was neatly shaved and his hair was combed, making him completely different from his usual slovenly look.
Dean wrinkled his nose and asked him what he smelled like and whether he was wearing perfume.
Bobby didn't even raise his head, and said to him, "What's wrong, are you my mother? Stop minding other people's business."
Sam sighed helplessly and asked him why he didn't answer the phone.
Bobby said that he had been busy looking for ways to deal with Lucifer, and asked them if they had gained anything from the case, with a deliberately tired tone in his tone.
Sam told him that a murder had occurred in the trailer park less than five miles from his home. The deceased was Benny Sutton. Witnesses said the murderer was Clay Thompson who had been dead for five years.
Bobby raised his eyelids feebly and said in a calm tone, "I know about this and have checked it out. There is nothing unusual." Dean immediately retorted, saying that there were witnesses who saw the dead man committing the crime with his own eyes.
Bobby scoffed and asked if it was Digger that drunkard. He said that he couldn't believe a single thing he said. He also said that thunderstorms were normal in South Dakota and were not a sign of Apocalypse.
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." He finished cleaning the gun and put the parts back one by one. "Don't waste your time. Just tell me what to do."
The two brothers were speechless for a moment.
Dean murmured in his heart: Something is wrong today, old Bobby. Usually when encountering this kind of thing, he is more active than anyone else. He is the first to rush ahead with a shotgun. Today, he keeps pushing them away. He must be hiding something.
Sam felt strange when he nodded. Bobby's attitude was too deliberate, as if he was hiding something.
In the quiet room in the backyard, Bai Haorui had just finished collecting the gong. True Gang in the Dantian had been walking for a short week, and the feeling of stagnation was a little lighter.
During the past two days of seclusion, he had vaguely noticed a faint fluctuation of death energy in the town, and there was also a strange smell in Bobby's room. He just thought it was an ordinary dead soul, which Bobby could handle easily, so he didn't take it to heart. At this moment, when he heard the words "dead man committed a crime" in the front hall, he frowned slightly and let out a trace of Divine Sense to sweep towards the town cemetery.
That piece of death energy is not dispersed, it is condensed but not dispersed. It is like a layer of black mist wrapped in tiny light spots of living souls, sinking above the graveyard. It is definitely not what ordinary dead souls should have.
He twirled the warm Five Emperor Coins in his sleeve with his fingertips, but didn't say anything immediately, intending to observe again.
The two brothers drove away. Dean glanced at the sign for the cemetery on the roadside and turned the steering wheel. Sam asked him why he was going there. Dean curled his lips and said, "Bobby said he had checked it, but Bobby is not always right. There is no harm in taking a look."
The two walked into the cemetery on wet and soft soil. The autumn grass was stained with rain and the cool air penetrated their shoes.
When they found the tombstone of Clay, both of them paused - the soil on the tomb was several degrees darker than the surroundings, and was soft and fluffy. It was obviously newly dug.
Sam squatted down and twisted it, then raised his head and said to Dean, "This soil has indeed just been disturbed, and the moisture has not dissipated. It will take two or three days at most."
Without saying anything, the two returned to the car, took out the shovel from the trunk, and started digging.
The muffled sound of shoveling was very clear in the quiet cemetery. After a while, the pine coffin lid was exposed. Dean pinned the coffin lid with a crowbar and pried it hard. There was a sharp squeaking sound, and the coffin lid was lifted aside.
It was empty inside, with only a little bit of wet soil and pine needles left at the bottom of the coffin, and no trace of any remains could be seen.
The two looked at each other, Dean spat, and cursed, "This old guy really has something to hide from us." Sam's heart sank - it's not the soul support body.
The two of them didn't waste much time, patted the dirt on their bodies, and decided to go directly to Clay's house to arrest him and ask him for details.
Clay's house is an ordinary suburban house with light gray exterior walls, a children's slide in the yard, warm yellow lights in the windows, and the laughter of children watching cartoons can be heard.
The two of them pried open the door and sneaked in quietly. Dean asked Sam to check in other rooms, while he stayed in the living room to be on guard.
As soon as he turned around, a figure jumped out from the shadows of the corridor, carrying the wind.
Dean reacted faster, ducked sideways, and twisted the opponent's arm with his backhand, with enough force to break Bones. He pushed the person against the wall, pulled out a gun and pressed it against the back of his head.
When Sam heard the noise and rushed in, Clay was begging for mercy with his hands trembling all over, saying that there was money in the safe and he would give it to them. He just asked not to hurt his children and wife who were sleeping upstairs.
Dean frowned and relaxed, saying they didn't want money.
Sam asked him if he was Clay Thompson, and at the same time took out a fake ID to identify himself. Clay panicked instantly, thinking that Benny's incident had happened, and stammered his confession, saying that Benny shot him in the back and killed him, and he couldn't just let it go.
Dean was stunned for a moment and asked him if he was pleading guilty. Clay nodded quickly and said that he was willing to go to the police station with them, but he just asked not to wake up the children upstairs.
Sam was a little confused and asked him where he planned to go with them. Clay said of course that he was going to jail.
Dean stared at the back of his head and confirmed word for word. "You are Clay Thompson. You died five years ago. You crawled out of the grave and killed Benny, right?"
Clay's body stiffened for a moment, and he nodded slowly, his eyes a little confused. "I don't know what I am now... I woke up in the grave, and there was only one thought in my mind - to seek revenge from Benny. But when I went home and saw my wife and children, I just..." His voice lowered, with guilt.
Both brothers felt their hearts pounding.
This person has body temperature, breathing, memory, feelings, family ties, and even a sense of morality and guilt. It is completely different from the rotten, bloodthirsty, and mindless living dead they know.
Dean The string in my heart tightened: the more normal it is, the more wrong it is.
At this time, footsteps were heard on the stairs. Clay's wife Hannah came down from the stairs, clutching her cell phone in her hand, her face turned pale with fright, and she mustered up the courage to tell them that she had called the police.
Clay quickly explained to her that these two people were from the FBI and were here to investigate the matter of Benny.
Just when Sam was about to say something, the police sirens outside came closer and closer, and Jody rushed in with the police, holding up their guns and screaming at them to put down their weapons immediately.
The iron bars of the police detention room were cold, and the incandescent lights made people dizzy.
The brothers' guns were confiscated, handcuffed and put into a cell.
Dean leaned on the railing and complained irritably, saying that Jody must have been bribed by zombies.
Sam smiled helplessly.
Just as they were talking, they saw Bobby and Jody talking in the hall outside. The atmosphere was actually quite peaceful. Bobby even smiled and nodded. After a while, Bobby came over and opened the cell door. His face was not very good-looking.
Sam and Dean followed him and left. Dean couldn't help but ask, "Don't she think you are the number one trouble in the town? Why is she willing to give you face now?"
Bobby said calmly, "Five days ago, she wanted to lock me in."
Dean immediately asked what happened five days ago.
Bobby stopped and turned to look at them, with no expression on his face. "Since five days ago, all the dead people in the town have come back to life."
Sam stopped and his voice became darker. "Have you known about this for a long time?"
Bobby nodded calmly and admitted.
Dean suppressed his anger and his chest heaved twice. "So you just lied to us like this? Did you hide it or not?"
Bobby looked at them with complicated eyes. "I told you that there is nothing wrong with you here. These things are different from the zombies you have seen before. Come home with me, and you will understand when you get back." After saying that, he turned around and continued walking out.
Dean felt angry and suspicious in his heart, looking at old Bobby's appearance.
He had a vague feeling that this matter might not end so easily.
As soon as the door of Bobby's house was opened, a sweet smell of baked pie hit the face wrapped in the warm air. The warm yellow light fell on the wooden dining table. The table was polished to a shine and was covered with clean porcelain plates. It was completely different from the usual messy piles of books and parts.
A woman wearing an off-white apron with broken blue flowers came out of the kitchen carrying a porcelain plate. She was about fifty years old, with light brown hair tied loosely behind her head, with a few strands of broken hair hanging from her temples, shallow fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and gentle eyebrows.
Seeing them, they were stunned for a moment, then smiled gently, and said to Bobby in a soft voice, "I didn't know you brought guests back, I'll go get a few more plates."
Bobby looked up at her, his eyes so soft that they could shed tears, and his tone was gentler than the brothers had ever heard before. "No need to bother." The woman smiled and shook her head, turned around and entered the kitchen, and gently closed the door.
Dean opened his mouth for a long time and didn't close it. He turned around and moved closer to Bobby, lowering his voice and asking, "Who is this?" Bobby's eyes were still glued to the kitchen door and he said softly, "Karen, my wife."
Dean didn't react and asked subconsciously, "New wife? Have you remarried these days?"
Bobby retracted his gaze, looked at them both, and said word by word, his voice very soft but like a heavy hammer hitting their hearts. "My dead wife."
Dean and Sam froze in place instantly, and the blood in their bodies went cold.
him
We all know what happened to Karen - she was possessed by a demon and Bobby killed her with his own hands. This is a scar that he will never touch for the rest of his life.
Nowadays, when people are standing in the kitchen baking pies, everyone feels like their scalp is going numb.
Bai Haorui in the backyard heard the words "Karen", and True Gang's fingertips swayed slightly.
He had previously sensed an abnormal aura in Bobby's room, a warm aura of death. He thought it was the aura that Bobby brought back after handling the case, but he didn't expect it to be Bobby's deceased wife.
He sighed softly, no wonder Bobby tried so hard to hide it. Whoever it was, the lover who had been lost and found would not be willing to let go.
On the morning of the next day, freshly baked Cherry Pie was placed on the wooden table in the restaurant. The skin was crispy, the icing sugar was spread evenly, and the sweet smell filled the room.
Karen sat next to them and watched them eat, his eyes as soft as water, and he occasionally handed over napkins, his movements natural and familiar.
Dean took a big spoonful and put it into his mouth, his eyes brightened a little, and he vaguely praised how delicious the pie was.
Sam kicked Dean hard under the table and winked at him with a frown. Dean shrugged innocently and muttered in a low voice, "It's so delicious."
Bobby took a bite of the pie, raised his head and told Karen that it tasted very good, and could he let them chat alone for a while.
Karen nodded with a smile, put away the empty plates, and turned into the kitchen.