Graves and Guns
As Harry made his way to enter Bobby’s house, he heard a car pull up in the scrapyard. Turning his head, he saw Ellen getting out of her car.
“Hey Ellen.”
“Hey kid.” Ellen replied, walking onto the porch. “You gonna open the door or what?”
Entering the house, Ellen and Harry found Sam, Dean, and Bobby in Bobby’s study, all of them pouring over different maps and charts of weather data.
“You guys find anything so far?” Harry asked as they entered the study.
“Nothin’ new.” Bobby grunted. “Still got a whole load ‘a nothing in southern Wyoming.”
“Well, I’ve got something on that front.” Ellen broke in, reaching into her back pocket. “Ash called before he… he told me to check the safe in the basement.”
“What did you find?” Sam asked.
“A map.” Ellen answered, placing the unfolded map on Bobby’s desk. “Of southern Wyoming.”
As Bobby was researching the marked locations on the map, Harry was focusing his attention on his collection of Biblical apocrypha, desperately searching for any method of binding or killing God. It was as he came across only the latest of many references to a text simply called the Untitled Text that Bobby drew everyone’s attention by thumping a book on his desk.
“What’ve you got?” Sam asked.
“I’ve got somethin’ is what.” He huffed out. “Each X? Abandoned frontier churches, mid-nineteenth century, the lot of them. All of them built by Samuel Colt.”
“What’s a gunsmith doing building churches?” Dean asked.
“That wasn’t all he was doing either.” Ellen broke in. “Colt’s responsible for the railway lines that connect ‘em up.”
“Making a Devil’s Trap…” Sam said, trailing off as he realized the size of the area.
“That… that’s an unprecedented scale.” Harry muttered. “And it’s somehow still all together.”
“Why would the demons be trying to get in though?” Sam asked, connecting the lack of omens to the area.
“Right, I was looking into the area, tryin’ to figure out what’s there.” Dean answered. “Nada. Only thing there’s an old cowboy cemetery.”
“Ya know… there’s a rumor about a Hell Gate in Marie Laveau’s mausoleum.” Harry commented. “Bet ya the cemetery is where the Hell Gate we’re after is.”
-o-
The last thing Jake Talley ever saw was a gash of red light flying his way. Moving to the side, he tried to dodge the attack but wasn’t fast enough, the magic burrowing into his neck like a knife.
As Harry walked the short distance to the body, he saw a shape in the distance. Leaning down and collecting the Colt, Harry looked up, locking eyes with Azazel.
“Well isn’t this a surprise?” The demon asked, giving Harry a look.
“You aren’t fooling anyone, Azazel.” Harry answered. “I know you have plans within plans within plans. You’re ya own lil’ Enigma machine, ya know that?”
“Well now, you’re just flattering me Harry! Using my name, complimenting me… somebody might think you want something.”
“There’s nothing you could offer me.”
“Really? Nothing I could give you, nothing to convince you to open that Gate?”
“Nope.” Harry replied. “Because I know the real reason you want that Gate opened. And it ain’t happening.”
“Hah!” Azazel barked out. “And what do you, some human, know about my plans?”
“Revelations.” Harry whispered, dragging the word out before abruptly spinning around and throwing the Colt, with a call of “Catch!”
As Azazel’s eyes tracked the gun’s arc, still unable to cross the railing of the Trap, he watched as Dean, in quick succession, caught, cocked, and shot the pistol. A short spell from Harry stuck the demon in place just long enough for the bullet to slam into Azazel, just between the eyes.
“What did you mean?” Sam asked. “About the ‘real reason’ he needed the Gate open?”
“That… is complicated.” Harry replied. “Demons. They’re, objectively speaking, verifiably real.”
“Yeah, they are.” Ellen replied.
“If you’re goin’ where I think you’re going…” Bobby added, trailing off.
“Well, so are angels.” Harry replied. “And so is the big guy with the capital G.”
“Oh, ya gotta be kidding me.” Dean complained. “There’s no way you think we’ll buy that.”
“And I know all of this from personal experience.” Harry continued. “And I kind of need y’all’s help.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
“Because unless we want thins going to shit real quick, we need to beat God.”