The Hunter

By the time the trio had reached Montana, Noora was absolutely exhausted. As if it wasn’t enough that traveling took a lot out of her anyways, she had that tiff with Dean over food and minor disagreements about the case along the road. She was sure that Sam was glad to be rid of the tension that had settled in the car once they finally reached the tiny, locally-owned motel—which they were all three sure that it was once someone’s home—and could stretch their legs a bit. Night had fallen already and they saw no use in meandering about old mines in any more dark than was required. Besides, they were all a bit bleary-eyed, hungry, in need of a hot shower, and ready to just crash. Thankfully, there was a small restaurant across the street and caddy-corner to their hotel that didn’t close until nine, so that gave them at least an hour to get set with their rooms and make their way over.

Once Dean parked the Impala in a parking spot clear of where the rest of the cars were, the three hauled their bags out of the car and started toward the front door of the hotel. The wooden steps that led up to the front porch creaked under their combined weight and their boots thudded against the wood hollowly. Noora took the time to glance behind her when the brothers were entering the building, taking in the small row of buildings. Basin, Montana was on it’s way to being a ghost town. They passed no car on the way into town and it surprised Noora that they even had a restaurant and that it made enough business to stay open. There were only two rows of three or four buildings and she saw the shadow of jagged mountains against the night sky, as well as an old smokestack from the ghost of the mining boom that hit the town.

The woman entered the building after the brothers, their footsteps not even quieting down on the rug-covered hardwood. The inside of the place looked as rickety as the porch, but it would just have to do. All Noora could hope was that anyone else staying there with them kept quiet enough for her to get some decent sleep. Sam and Dean exchanged glances before turning back to look at Noora. The woman merely shrugged in return, frowning a bit as if to reply to their glances. The three stepped over to the front desk and Sam gave the elderly woman sitting in front of a record book that looked like it hadn’t been used in a few days a small smile as she hurriedly muted the evening news to turn to them.

“You three are the first folks we’ve had around in a spell. Do you need two rooms, one with two beds and one with only one, or three separate singles?” She asked, in a sweet, albeit brittle voice as she peered at them with faded blue eyes from over the top of her incredibly thick reading glasses.

“Just two, thanks,” Sam replied, smiling over at the older woman. She merely gave him a knowing smile in return, eyes slipping between the brothers before glancing to Noora. The woman grabbed a pen and looked behind her at a key hanger, grabbing two of the keys and placing them beside the record book.

“And your names?” She asked, eyes slipping between the three of them.

“I’m Robert Plant, this is Jimmy Page,” Dean started, motioning between himself and his brother before he glanced over his shoulder at Noora, “and she’s-” Noora stared back at him for a moment before turning to the receptionist with a small smile.

“I’m…Jane Parker,” she replied without missing a beat. The woman merely nodded and jotted down their names and the room numbers on the keys before setting them on the counter in front of the three of them. She obviously didn’t catch the classic rock references she knew the brothers to often make.

“Well, Mr. Plant, Mr. Page, and Ms. Parker, I’ll expect payment whenever you are set to leave. You enjoy yourselves now,” she said with a nod before she lowered herself back onto a chair and turned the volume back up on the TV. The three exchanged glances before Noora grabbed one of the sets of keys and started toward the stairs. They creaked and groaned as the three climbed their way up the staircase and finally to the corridor of rooms. Thankfully, the woman had given them rooms across the hall from one another, so they were at least on the same floor of the building.

Noora stuck the key into the room label 21 and twisted it in the lock, pushing the door open. A soft sigh left her as she flicked on the light. The room wasn’t much, but it was a bed and it was a place that’d keep her somewhat protected from the elements. It was rather chilly in the building and she was sure it had something to do with the altitude that they were at. A single window let in outside light from the street below, the walls were a plain, eggshell white, and the bed was a run of the mill floral. There was no TV, but there was an en-suite bathroom, which was definitely more than what the woman was expecting. She sat her bag down on the floor before lowering herself down onto the bed. She tested the spring of it for a moment and decided that the mattress was probably older than her grandparents. It was still better than sleeping in the Impala, she decided.

She let out a soft hum before deciding that she was too hungry and tired to even begin to care about luxuries. After all, it was what she had given up when she decided that she wanted to be a hunter. Pushing herself to her feet, she shoved the key into her pocket, as well as her wallet and phone and stepped out of the room. Noora shut off the light and locked the door behind her before stepping across the hallway and knocking on the door that she was sure the Winchester’s were behind.

“Are you two decent?” She called through the hollow-bodied barrier of a door, pulling her lips between her teeth afterwards.

“No,” came Dean’s smart-ass reply, to which she opened the door anyway and stood in the jamb. She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced between the two of them, waiting patiently until they decided they were going to venture to the restaurant. “Oh, you so wanted to see one of us naked,” Dean murmured smugly under his breath, grinning to himself as he plucked through his bag for a few items.

“Please, I’d rather eat the leftover skin of a shapeshifter than see any more of your skin than I have to,” she retorted in a low tone, petite nose wrinkled slightly before she turned and started back towards the stairs. Sam let out a soft laugh before glancing over at Dean just in time to see him frown at Noora’s back. The younger Winchester merely shook his head and let out a heavy sigh through his nose, starting out of the room.

“She secretly wants me,” Dean murmured, as if in denial that any woman didn’t think he was at least attractive. Sam let out a soft laugh and turned to look back at Dean, shaking his head slowly.

“You keep telling yourself that. I wouldn’t let her hear you say something like that around her. She’s already decked you once,” the younger Winchester warned before shrugging, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stepping out of the room and toward the staircase.

Of course, Noora would be lying to herself if she didn’t recognize that Dean was attractive, but she would rather skewer herself on a rusty railroad nail than admit that out loud or, Heaven forbid, anywhere near where Dean or Sam could possibly hear. That being said, just because she found Dean Winchester attractive did not mean that she was going to fall into the same trap that countless other women had. She respected herself too much to just grovel at his feet or hop into bed with him. Besides, he was an ass sometimes and she just wanted to deck him, sober and proper this time, more often than not. When he decided to treat her like an actual hunter rather than some little girl who was fooling herself into the charade of it all, then would she have a change of heart and maybe actually be able to tolerate being around him for long periods of time. That was still a far cry from wanting to see the narcissist naked.

The three finally met up together on the ground floor of the small hotel and made their way on foot across the street. It was then they decided that the few people clinging to this near-ghost town were people who probably were too old to pick up and leave. Once this generation was gone, there was a good chance that this down would fall off the map altogether. It wouldn’t have surprised them if they were the only ones in that hotel besides the old woman who ran it. As they stepped into the restaurant, three sets of eyebrows shot skyward as they glanced around the nearly empty place. There was a single waitress in the whole place who appeared to be the youngest person they’d seen as she was around sixty, there was a table of older gentlemen who looked like they were miners from a completely different town, and an old bartender who looked like he was about to fall asleep at any moment.

The restaurant was dark, with wood plank walls that only darkened the place even more. A few lights dotted the walls and there were a few deer antler chandeliers that lit the majority of the place. An old country song played from an ancient looking boom box that sat on the far end of the bar. The hunters shot glances to each other before realizing that every eye in the building had turned to them and they were sure they were the youngest people to come across this town in a few years or so. Eventually, the stare down ended and the hunters made their way toward a table on the opposite side of the restaurant. There were there only a minute or two before the waitress came over and asked for their drink orders.

“I’ll take whatever beer you have that’s cold,” Dean said, causing the waitress to shoot him a less-than pleased look before turning to Sam.

“I’ll have a beer,” he said softly, nodding once to the waitress. When she finally reached Noora, she glanced between the two brothers, shifting a bit as they stared expectantly over at her before she fished her ID from her back pocket.

“What kind of bourbon do you have?” She asked, handing the rectangle of plastic over to the waitress.

“The Kentucky kind,” the woman said bluntly, looking unimpressed with the statements coming from this bunch of newcomers. Noora merely lifted a brow at the woman, lips pursing ever so slightly before she sighed. Mostly all bourbon was the Kentucky kind. After all, it’s where the hard liquor had been first produced.

“I’ll have the Kentucky kind of bourbon on the rocks then,” Noora replied smartly, not about to let some 60-year-old waitress get smart with her. The two women locked eyes and the waitress tossed her ID back on the table and turned without another word. Noora merely stared at her back for a few moments before letting out a heavy sigh and leaning back in the uncomfortable, worn, and lopsided wooden chair she sat on.

“The Kentucky kind,” Dean murmured through soft chuckles, shaking his head slowly. Noora’s eyes slid over to him and she drew in a deep breath of air.

“Oh, I’m sorry. At least my request wasn’t half as bad as your cold beer one,” she snapped back at him. Dean immediately stopped chuckling and turned a hard stare over to her. He looked like he was about to snap back but Sam quickly jumped in.

“Guys, can you just can it for one damn meal?” Both Dean and Noora turned to him with their glares, but he wasn’t about to back down. “I can already tell this is probably going to be as pleasant as pulling teeth without you two bickering.” Noora’s expression turned sour, but she remained quiet, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the chair. Dean looked like he was about to say something else, but the waitress came back with their drinks and placed them on the table before sliding the three of them menus. She left without another word and Noora took the chilled tumbler in her hands and took a sip of it.

“I’m not going to scrape you off the floor once you finish that drink, by the way,” Dean shot to Noora and Sam rolled his eyes. Noora glowered over at him and took another rebellious sip of the drink.

“I’m not asking you to,” she shot back, which clearly left Dean without a comeback as he quickly shut up and perused the menu for his next meal.



Once the trio finished their meal—leaving the waitress a smaller tip than she probably would have preferred, but what they felt she merited after her grouchy tone with them—they made their way back to the hotel and weren’t surprised to find that the old woman had abandoned her post at the front desk. The TV was turned off and few lights were left on. There was a note on the desk, labeled for them, that told them to lock up the place. So they were either the only ones staying there or the only ones to have left the hotel while the woman had been watching. Noora turned and turned the deadbolt on the door and twisted the lock on the doorknob itself, a bit surprised at how trusting the woman was of the three of them.

Despite what Dean had said, Noora didn’t even have a little buzz, let alone did she need to be scraped off the floor, a fact she looked quite proud of. Without so much as a goodnight, the three hunters went to their respective rooms and locked up for the night. Noora immediately went to go take a shower, wanting to unwind a bit from the day. Traveling took a lot out of her as well as bickering with Dean. It took a while for the water to warm up to a temperature than she approved of, but it helped her muscles to slowly relax. She took a quick shower and got ready for bed, brushing her teeth and putting on her pajamas.

Noora ventured over to the bed and lowered herself down onto it, pulling out her laptop and, just for curiosities’ sake, she checked to see if the hotel had wifi. Of course, they didn’t, so that put to rest any ideas she had of researching a little bit about the mines. It wouldn’t have hurt to have a little bit of a head’s up on the mines, but apparently, she wasn’t going to get that opportunity. She sighed heavily, turned her laptop off and shoved it back into her back. She softly padded across the creaky hardwood floor and shut off the light, plunging her room suddenly into darkness. The girl paused by the door, hearing the soft, low, muffled voice of the Winchester brothers across the hall. She tried eavesdropping, but she soon found out that she couldn’t make out any words. Instead, she turned and slipped into the bed, deciding that it was clean enough and it was cold enough for her to burrow herself in the down comforter. It only took Noora a few minutes to fall into a deep, uneasy sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, the sky was a jagged pale grey-blue that collided abruptly with the snow-capped, charcoal –colored mountains in the distance. She sat up and stared out the window for a moment, deciding that if she ever managed to make it out of hunting; she probably wouldn’t mind living somewhere close. Rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand, she let out a soft yawn. Noora felt like she hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep at all, but she couldn’t remember why. Whether it be a dream she had, but couldn’t remember, or plain old intuition, something didn’t feel right about today.

Pushing that feeling aside, she pushed back the covers of her bed and blearily made her way over to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She glanced into the mirror as she brushed her teeth, eyeing the unruly mess sleep had made of her hair. She’d pull it back into a braid for today, figuring that it probably keep her hair the cleanest that way. Her mind reeled through the best outfit for the mind, not because she was fashionable conscious or anything, but depending on the depth of the mine, it could get mighty cold. She sighed heavily through her nose and spat the minty foam of her toothpaste into the basin of the sink before quickly plaiting her hair and tying it off.

Once she got dressed in a pair of knee-height, leather boots, a pair of the thickest jeans she owned, and a few layers of thin shirts, she grabbed the thickest jacket she had brought with her and filled the pockets with what she’d need on the hunt. Her trusty knife was hidden just past the top of her boots; her right pocket had a small pistol and salt rounds hidden within, wrapped in a cloth so that it wouldn’t make any suspicious noises; her left pocket contained a small flashlight, two changes of batteries for the flashlight, and a small container of holy water just in case. She always made sure she kept her pockets light, but full of stuff that was good to have readily available. Pulling a side bag over her head, she checked to make sure her sawn-off shotgun, rounds, and first-aid kit were still in there before grabbing her room key and shoving it into her pocket.

She set out of her room and locked it behind her, just out of habit. Slowly, Noora made her way down the stairs just as the first beam of yellow morning light peeked through the windows and into the building. The old woman was not at her post at the front desk and the lights were still out. Noora unlocked the front door and stepped outside into the cool, brisk mountain air. A sigh left her as she closed the door behind her and lowered herself down onto the top step of the building. She glanced out over the small town, wrapping her arms around her midsection and tapping her toes on the step her feet rested on. The town really looked like the ghost town it was; no cars, no people, even no birds or small animals. A short hum left her as she realized she probably wouldn’t be getting a cup of coffee before they set off for the mines.

Noora heard hollow footsteps behind her before the door opened and Sam and Dean stepped out the front door of the building. She pushed herself up to her feet and let out a soft noise as her knees popped simultaneously. Must have been the high altitude screwing with her joints and body. She glanced between the two of them just as they glanced over her and she shifted a bit on her feet. After a few moments, she drew in a deep breath of air and spoke.

“Well…if you two are already up and at ‘em, we may as well at least scope out the mines until it gets lighter outside. We should probably see if we can get some hard hats too,” she said softly. Dean gave her an apprehensive look and she let out a heavy sigh. “So we can avoid falling rocks in the tunnel, hitting our heads on low ceilings, etc. etc. People probably haven’t been in these mines in years, maybe decades. The structure’s probably weak and I just want to be sure that we don’t have to deal with any concussions. The nearest hospital is probably an hour or so away,” she explained, shooting them both a look before starting down the stairs of the building. Dean merely glanced over to Sam before letting out a heavy sigh and starting after the girl.

Once they were all three in the car and on their way toward the first mine, Noora turned from the scenery to the brother’s in the front seat. She studied the two of them for a moment before deciding she was going to see how much they knew about the mines they were going to.

“Do you know the name of the mines and what they mined?” She asked, bright blue eyes dancing between the two of them.

“The Katy and Hope mines,” Sam answered, glancing over the front seat to look at Noora, “the Katy mine was mainly for ore, but Hope was a gold mine. Both of them suffered fires, so we figured those would be the most likely out of the mines in Basin to have a ghost.” Noora gave him a careful look as she thought through everything before letting out a soft hum.

“Two questions: if these mines are abandoned, why are we so worried about getting rid of the ghost and how many other mines are there because we definitely can’t rule them out if we can’t turn up any leads at the two you picked out,” she said, eyes slipping between the two of them.

“Apparently, whatever is in the mines is coming out of the mines into the town and the few residents that live in Basin are on the verge of leaving it a bona fide ghost town. And there are at least two mines that we know aren’t caved in completely, but there are a few others that have cave-ins that block at least half of the entire mine,” he said. “We figured we’d go with the ones that haven’t caved in and start there,” he said, letting out a soft sigh. Noora merely nodded and relaxed back into the back seat of the Impala.

“This should be fun,” she murmured, turning her eyes back out the window. And even though Dean was sorely tempted to comment about her lack of enthusiasm, he couldn’t help but thinking she was right in her sarcasm. After all, they were blindly going into these mines and severely risking their necks in the meantime. It was a rare occasion that they had their environment to worry about along with whatever supernatural entity they were hunting, and Dean couldn’t possibly think of a worse environment than a one way in, one way out mine.