The Flip Side Part One
By Brate
Previously published in Hunting Trips #1, Neon Rainbow Press.
Sam Winchester coughed as another dust cloud erupted around them. His brother Dean stood next to him, his face a mask of horror and fear.
"We've got to do something," Sam said.
"I know."
"Sometime this century."
"I know." Dean's voice switched to a growl.
"It's got to be destroyed, Dean."
"No, there's gotta be another way."
"It's evil."
"It is not. It's just possessed by evil." Dean's eyes lit up. "We could exorcise it."
Sam choked, fanning away another wave of dust. "It's a car," he croaked.
"It's not a car, it's my car." As if that settled the matter.
Sam figured in this case it did.
They'd been hunting a rogue spirit, chasing it across the county. They thought they had it cornered in an old farmhouse, when the spirit had gotten by them and taken refuge in the Impala. Sam and Dean had been watching the car drive around them in circles, almost as if the spirit was giving it a test drive. But they knew it wouldn't remain harmless for long.
Suddenly the car whipped around and faced them, idling about thirty feet away.
The Winchesters exchanged a look of This can't be good.
Slowly it rolled toward them. Dean stood his ground, even when Sam backed up a couple steps. The car stopped again, inches from Dean's legs before reversing to ten feet away.
"Dean..."
"It's okay."
"I really think-"
"Seriously, it's under control."
Just as the words were out of Dean's mouth, the car's tires spun and it shot forward. Sam grabbed Dean by the scruff of his jacket, yanking him out of the way before the Impala barreled through.
Sam looked at his brother. "You were saying?"
"It wouldn't've hurt me," Dean insisted. "Just wanted to give me a little love tap."
"Uh-huh." Sam watched the car resume its circuitous journey. He rummaged through the duffel bag slung across his shoulder, bringing out the shotgun and real ammunition. "Can I blow out the engine now?"
"No way." Dean's head shook so fast Sam was afraid he would get whiplash.
"How about just the tires?"
"Over my dead body."
"I think the car will take care of that."
"All right, let's start the exorcism. We were going to do it at the farmhouse, we'll just switch it to the car."
Rolling his eyes, Sam did as his brother requested. He returned the weapon and ammo to the duffel, removing the bottle of holy water, intending to spray it at the car on its next pass. Sam drew his arm back for the throw.
Dean grabbed his wrist.
"What now?" Sam snapped.
Dean had the sense to look sheepish. "You can't do that."
"Why not? The exorcism was your idea, remember?"
"Yeah, but let's do the one without the holy water."
"Why's that?"
"It'll bubble when it comes in contact with evil."
"Yeah... and?"
"It might mess up the paint job," Dean finished.
"You've got to be shitting me." Sam slammed the duffel into Dean. "Fine, we'll do it your way. But I am so not letting you forget this."
Sam opened their father's journal, balancing it with one hand while holding his mini flashlight in the other. Finding the correct page, he started reciting in Latin, projecting his voice to the car.
He was about halfway through when he was interrupted by a flying tackle. Sam landed hard on the ground, covered by his brother as the Impala raced past with inches to spare.
"Thanks."
"Oh, I didn't do it for you," Dean answered. "Your body would've wrecked the grill."
Sam stared at Dean for a moment before shaking his head. "Yeah, whatever."
"Hurry up and finish this bitch before it hits a tree or something."
Sam continued where he'd left off, keeping one eye on the circling car. He finished the incantation and closed the book with a determined snap.
The car shut down, rolling to a stop.
Warily, the two crept toward the Impala, ready to dive out of the way if necessary. There was no reaction at their approach.
"Should we test it with holy water?"
Dean frowned. "Okay, but do it on the floor mat or something so it won't show."
Sam snorted, but did as directed. He cautiously leaned in the open window and dribbled a bit of holy water onto the carpet.
Nothing happened.
"All clear," Sam said over his shoulder. He opened the door and slouched into the seat. Dean threw their bag into the backseat before getting behind the wheel.
"First Constance, now this," Sam sighed. "If it happens again-"
Dean cut him off. "It won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because the next stop we make, I'm putting a protective spell on this freakin' car. No ghost is gonna get their hands on it ever again," Dean vowed, slamming his foot down on the gas pedal.
Sam believed him.
