Wary and watchful, Meg moved towards the closest likely looking door. It appeared to be a convenience store, and that worked for her. Not only was she keen to get out of the open, but places like this generally carried street maps, post cards, basic shit that might tell her where the hell they were. Once she knew that, she could focus on getting them the out of Dodge. Teleportation was a huge drain on power and she’d rather not do it if she didn’t have to. Sometimes doing things the slow way was just better. She pushed open the door, expecting a musical chime to announce her entrance, but there was nothing. The store was dark and the smell of rancid milk floated outwards from the freezer units in the back. Clearly the place had no electricity. The whole thing was giving her flashbacks. This was exactly the way the towns she’d visited with Lucifer always wound up looking. Once an army of demons moves into a neighborhood, that’s pretty much the end in most cases. She breathed deeply through her nose but the telltale scent of sulfur that would have been inescapable if there were demons here in force, was noticeably absent.
She didn’t look back to see if Dean was following, but she knew he would. Her age made her the defacto leader in most situations, though the longer they spent together the more even the power seemed to be distributed. She wasn’t too proud to admit that he was good at what he did, though his methods were decidedly different. He liked to get his hands dirty, and she much preferred to stay back. They worked well together. They complimented each other. She thought of what they might have been like together when Lucifer walked and the thought sent shivers up her spine. With him on their side, they just might have won.
The store was noticeably lacking in maps or defining characteristics. There weren’t even any magnets in the shape of the state. There was, however, a cell phone. It rested on the counter, as though someone had set it down mere moments before. Meg reached out for it, thinking, if nothing else, she might be able to boot up google maps. As she touched it, the phone turned on, flashing her name across the screen. Her real name. She started in surprise and nearly dropped it. Clicking hurriedly through the preferences menu, not bothering to ask questions, she changed the name. When she clicked back to the home screen, it simply read “Meg.” Turning, she held it up for Dean to see, her name still clearly visible at the top of the phone’s screen.