The old saying "Any port in a storm" was wise enough, Dean figured. Until he applied it to finding a daytime resting place for himself when he'd underestimated the arrival of the dawn and found himself stuck in a crappy underground set of cavernous rooms originally designed for... fuck only knows what. It smelled of chemicals, dust, and stale air.

When he rose that night, he decided to explore the adjoining rooms rather than leaving immediately.