Hours later, the truckers pulled up to a run-down hut in the middle of nowhere. Behind the hut, a rusting truck was parked. It looked like it hadn’t been driven in a decade. The rain was falling steadily now, and the three truckers and Charlie stood near Sam’s truck. He was trying to cover the broken window before the storm began.
Cas walked up behind Dean and put his hand around his waist. Dean let himself fall into the embrace of his love machine, feeling relaxed for the first time since meeting Saruman in the diner.
“Dean?” Cas asked, hesitantly.
“We are at the home of one of the greatest truckers to ever cruise down the highway.”
Cas removed his arm from Dean’s waist and turned to look at him properly. “Dean, this is just a hovel in the middle of the desert. No one lives here.”
“He’s here Cas. No trucker would ever leave their truck behind.”
“He’s here Cas. Sam, you done with that window yet?”
“Just about,” Sam responded, duct taping the last corner of a garbage bag to the window. “There.”
“It’ll do for now,” Sam said with a shrug.
The three truckers and Charlie made their way across the sandy desert floor to the hut, if you could ever call it that. It was no bigger than a large shed, the wood was rotting and the hinges on the door had nearly disintegrated. Dean raised a shaking fist to the door, afraid of what he would find inside. He knocked gently, afraid the wood of the door would break beneath his hand.
A quiet voice from within the shed called out. “Yes?”
Dean silently gasped and called out, “Prophet, is that you?”
Shuffling noises were heard from within the shack. Then, slowly, the door creaked open. An elderly man stood in front of Dean. He couldn’t have been more than five foot five, but it was hard to tell. His spine was bent and he was leaning heavily on a cane. He had a long, white beard and rapidly blinking eyes. He reminded Dean a bit of an old mole.
“No one has called me Prophet in years,” he croaked out. “I’ll be damned, if it isn’t the great Rubber Duck.”
“Hello Kevin. It’s been awhile.”
The old man cracked a smile. “Come in, come in!”
Kevin stepped aside and allowed Dean, Sam, Cas, and Charlie to enter the shack. There was one lantern lit which illuminated the room. There was a small bed, a bucket, a chair, and a bit of garbage. Dean assumed most of his supplies were still in the truck. The bucket was being used to catch water which was dripping from a large hole in the ceiling. Dean, Cas, and Charlie sat down on the bed, and Sam stood, leaning awkwardly against the door.
Kevin rushed over to Dean, enveloping him into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you, my boy!”
“You too, Kevin.” Dean helped Kevin take a seat in the chair, Kevin’s joints complaining loudly.
“Sorry about the state of this place, and of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had visitors.”
“I always meant to visit, but I never got the time. I’m so sorry for that.”
“It’s alright Dean. You’re still truckin’ and that’s all that matters.”
Cas suddenly elbowed Dean in the ribs. “Right,” Dean said. “Kevin, this is Cas, and Charlie. And that’s my brother, Sam. Guys, this is Kevin. He taught me all I know about truckin’.”
“So you’re the Prophet,” Sam said in awe. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“Then you know my story is not a happy one,” Kevin said, looking down at his hands.
“What happened?” Charlie asked in a whisper.
Kevin sighed, and looked up at Charlie. “You are the first to ask in a very long time. I will tell you, if only to have someone to share in my sorrow. I used to be one of the greatest truckers to ever drive across the United States. I led the largest convoy to date. We covered three quarters of a mile down the highway. Unstoppable, that’s what we were. I met my husband, Harry, during that convoy. He was called the Wizard. The Prophet and the Wizard, ruling the highway. We never got into much trouble. We had some run ins with the cops, but what good trucker doesn’t? For a long time, we were unstoppable. For a long time, I was happy. Harry and I were even guardians to a wonderful little boy, James. He was Harry’s nephew. He was like a son to me. You see, family don’t end with blood. We took him in when his parents were killed. It was crazy, how alike Harry and James looked. We were the perfect family, traveling around the country in our trucks, seeing the sights, that is, until the law had finally caught up with us. Sauron, father of the current sheriff, Saruman, had found us. We were wanted in three states for various crimes. We were chased across the highway, Harry in his truck, me in mine. I still thank whatever entity is out there that James was at his grandmothers that day. Harry’s truck was running low on gas, and he was panicking. We had always outrun the cops before, but it seemed like we were out of luck. I told him over the CB to stay strong, to keep moving, when he lost control of his truck. I had never seen him lose control like that. It flipped off the highway, and I wanted to stop and find him. I needed to know if he was okay. But I couldn’t stop moving. My foot wouldn’t release the gas. So I kept driving, away from Harry, away from James, and away from the cops. I got off the highway as soon as I could, stopping only once to gather supplies. Then I came here. I knew I could never face what I had done. It was my fault Harry was on the road that day. All of it was my fault, and I have never forgiven myself for allowing someone so beautiful, to die in such a horrific way.” He paused. “That’s enough about that. It has been a long time since I have had visitors. Only a few trusted people know about my location. So Dean, what is it I can help you with?”
Dean was swimming in his thoughts. He had heard the story before from others, but he had never heard Kevin’s version. Dean hand was in Cas’s, and, for the first time in a long time, Dean realized how lucky he was to have him.
“We’re trying to get to Texas,” Dean said, looking up at Kevin. “Sam’s wife, Ezri, is about to have a baby, and she’s due any week now.”
Kevin knitted his eyebrows together. “What brings you here then?”
“Saruman caught up to us.”
Kevin nodded, deep in thought. “Who’s she?” he asked, gesturing to Charlie.
“Name’s Charlie Bradbury,” she said, holding out her hand to Kevin. Kevin took it and shook it tenderly.
“We’re giving her a ride to Texas,” Dean said.
“Why do you need a ride, Miss Bradbury?” Kevin questioned.
Charlie scratched the back of her hand. “Well, my car broke down and-“
“No. You misunderstood me. Where is your truck, Widow Woman?”
The hut stood in shocked silence. Charlie’s eyes were wide and she had stopped scratching her hand. Dean’s mouth dropped open, and Cas and Sam exchanged confused looks.
It was Dean who broke the silence. “You don’t mean, the Widow Woman?”
“Widow Woman?” Sam asked.
“Come on, Sammy, you know. She’s a legend. Her pregnant wife was killed by a rogue cop-“
“So I took to the road, killing as many cops who abused their power as I could find, and bringing justice to those who were unfairly killed,” Charlie finished. “Yes, well it’s no use hiding it now. Hello, Prophet, it’s been awhile.”
“Nice to see you again, Charlie,” he answered, smiling wide. “It took me awhile to recognize you. You’ve really changed.”
“Constant make overs are part of hiding, Kev.”
“Wait, wait, hold on,” Dean cut in, still shocked from the new information. “I had the Widow Woman in my truck?”
“Yes, you did. And in all honesty, I was not impressed. You could keep your truck cleaner, treat her with more respect.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said, looking away from her eyes and blushing furiously.
“Wait, if you’re the Widow, who’s supposed to be tough as nails and a total badass, why were you crying in the diner?” Sam asked.
Charlie shrugged. “I needed a ride. Usually looking pathetic and weak gets you rides. Plus, if you idiots decided to try anything,” she pulled a switch blade out of her pocket, “it’s far easier to catch you unprepared.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to be embarrassed.
“So, you boys need to get to Texas,” Kevin asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Yes, sir. And as fast as possible,” Dean said.
Kevin nodded. “You’ll most likely want to take I-four-oh through New Mexico. But it’ll be dangerous. They’ve probably already warned the New Mexican police about you guys. You’ll need backup.”
“You’re coming with us?” Dean asked, shocked and confused.
Kevin laughed. “No, I can’t. It’s been too long since these tired eyes have seen the road. And I doubt they ever will again. Charlie, if you could hand me what’s under that pillow.”
Charlie nodded, pulling out a wireless radio and handing it to Kevin.
“I’m going to call backup for you. There’s two truckers in the next town over who owe me a favor. They go by the names Captain and Plaid Pants. They’ll help you reach Texas.”
Kevin turned on the radio and began to talk. It took him awhile to reach one of the truckers, and when he did they happily agreed to help Sam reach Texas. They agreed to meet in the next town over at sun up.
“I’d get on the road now,” Kevin said once he turned off the radio. “It’ll take you that long to get there with the cops on your tail.”
“Thank you Kevin, for everything,” Dean said, standing up and shaking Kevin’s hand.
“It’s been a pleasure. Come and visit whenever you need.”
The four truckers said their thank yous and goodbyes and made their way back to the trucks, setting out for a night of driving.
