Dean reached under her torso and her legs, careful to not put any pressure on her new wound, despite the hurry.  He pulled her up with a bit of a groan, considering the bandages on his back and turned toward the door.  Whipping it open, he pulled her body close to his, getting a firm grip on her, “You got it.  There’s no way I can take them all on my own with just one machete.  I mean, I could try, but if I don’t make it out, you’re a sitting duck.”

He sprinted to the car, pulling her keys off the top of the pile he had placed in her arms.  He kneeled low to the ground with effort, sitting her gently on his knees as he unlocked the passenger door.  Happy that it opened easier than John’s, he slowly stepped back, her still balanced on his knees and opened the door, before standing with effort, hoisting her back into his arms.

“Look at me, using logic, right?”, he joked, as he sat her down on the edge of the passenger seat.  He helped her shove her legs inside the car, carefully placing both her feet on the floor, and then shut the door as a woman ran out of her room screaming and covered in blood, “They’re going to take this whole place…”

He got into the drivers side of the car, and turned to her, panic on his face, “We’ll get out of Minnesota, and find another place to rest, until we can get back to Bobby’s…but they’re going to take this whole place.  Put your head down…”

With that, he started the engine and quickly reversed before peeling out of the parking lot, the bloody woman trying to chase them, begging for help.