Slowly, Dean's eyes opened as he came to. Blood dripped from his forehead as he recalled driving through the forest, too exhausted to realize he was about to ram straight through one of the creatures. But he didn't, at least, he didn't think he did, he turned the wheel and made a sharp turn, or at least remembered turning. His vision was somewhat blurred, he was beyond dizzy and his left arm was in severe pain. It took him a moment to realize the truck had seemed to flip, because he was upside down. [b]"Fuck"[/b] He whispered to himself, his mind was racing, he tried to process the situation but it only made his head hurt even more. Incoherent noises could be heard from outside the driver door, turning his head Dean saw what was most likely the creature he regrettably avoided running over, laying beside the driver window repeatedly slamming it's fist into the glass and screaming at the top of it's deceased lungs. He wondered why he didn't turn the thing into roadkill. Slowly Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and awkwardly fell out of the drivers seat, then began crawling through the truck and towards the glovebox. He could hear the window begin to crack from the creature's relentless pounding and frantically opened the glovebox, pulling out a sawed-off shotgun. The creature had eventually broken through the window only to receive a shotgun blast to the face. Blood gushed all over the inside of the car as well as Dean. 

Kicking open the passenger door Dean crawled out of the truck and struggled to get to his feet. He looked around the forest and grunted as most of his inventory was spread around the immediate area. He began limping towards an army green bag which was laying on the ground inches from a lake. His left arm was still in severe pain, so he held the sawed-off with that hand and picked up the bag with his right, practically dragging it back as he limped back to the truck. Dean slowly sat on the ground and pulled the bag onto his lap, opening it to reveal a variety of boxes of ammunition, a hunting rifle, and a pistol. He hated using guns and preferred close combat but he wasn't in any state to engage a creature like this. Dean pondered what to do next, and actually considered putting a bullet in his brain. It was a causal, common thought that inhabited his mind on more than one occasion lately. He merely grabbed the bag so he would have something to defend himself with, it wasn't smart to use guns in a situation like this but there wasn't any option. He couldn't help but wonder once more why he didn't just plow the creature with his truck, something like that should be instinct by now, a habit, it certainly wouldn't have been the first time he ran over a creature. It could've been because he was half asleep at the time and wasn't thinking. Or, maybe he just wanted it to be a person. Maybe for a moment he wanted to live in a world where it's a good idea to avoid running over somebody on the road rather than speeding up. 

Dean observed the forest in front of him and to his dismay, he could see two creatures making their way through the trees and towards him. It wasn't a surprise to see them considering a weapon, but he couldn't help cringe at the sight of those things. Dean pulled out a box of shotgun shells from the bag and loaded the sawed-off before taking aim. He waited a moment, allowing the pair to come within range, then fired the shotgun once more.