Busy with his own Taken, Alan fired of a shot to knock it backwards and then reached for the flare he had tucked into his back pocket and lit it. The harsh red light didn't kill them, but they sure as hell didn't like it and most of them backed away. It was probably a fire hazard, but even that would be plenty of light to keep the bastards from doing anything - he saw Sam get clipped out of the corner of his eye and spun around, gun pointed at what he hoped was one of the smaller ones.
Yet as soon has he did, they were being dissolved in a way he'd never seen before. It was as if something was just drawing them away and it was - the spell, or whatever the hell Sam wanted to call it was siphoning them off and concentrating them into one area to lock them up and he was almost taken aback by it if he hadn't heard that order.
Cursing under his breath, he scrambled for a switch plate and flicked it on just enough to light the room - it wasn't so bright that there weren't any shadows, but it was enough to keep them safe. From there, he set to digging around, finding the first aid kit and grabbed some gauze for Sam to at least stop the bleeding with. Having gotten too close to one shovel too many, Alan at least knew what to do in that respect. "Nice chanting," he said, his own breathing laboured. "What now?"
He was mostly just hoping Sam didn't say "tie you to a chair and exorcise you," because the last thing he needed was to be restrained in any way, shape, or form. "Or is that it?"
Asking too many questions usually wasn't his thing, but at the moment, he didn't know what else to do. The minute the Taken - if there were any more Taken - figured out how to cut the power, then they'd be on them again and at full force.