In hindsight, maybe
barreling through the forest had been a bad idea. Dean tried his best to avoid thinking in that manner, as second-guessing himself would only distract him from the task at hand, which at the moment was still horrifyingly unclear. The truck shook incessantly, simply letting go of the wheel could result in a fatal crash. Trees, thick and tall, whizzed by with each passing second. The trail Dean followed was thin, and was beginning to lead downhill, which worried him. All in all, however, there was one good thing to come from all the chaos; the Berserker could hardly keep up with Dean now. Scarcely the boy could afford to glance at his rearview mirror, watching as the creature constantly tripped over itself.
Dean kept a vice grip on the wheel. His inventory flew all over the truck; bags, maps, bottles, empty magazines, books. His pistol was not in immediate sight, and this filled him with dread. If it were stuck under the seat or lodged in a corner, he could die before it was found if things got worse.
And then, without warning, Dean was flying. He was unaware how fast the truck had been barreling downhill, until a wall of leaves blocked the end of the trail that lead upwards like a ramp. Behind the wall of leaves and completely out of the boys sight was the aforementioned lake. He was completely oblivious to its presence until the moment he was gliding over the water within the truck. Once more, the howling winds ceased, the roaring engine went quiet. There was another brief moment of arrant silence in which Dean took and held the largest breath of air possible before the truck plowed headfirst into the lake, a significant distance from the shore. Without hesitation, the Berserker burst from behind the wall of leaves and into the lake. It now swam with vigor towards the sinking truck.
The truck itself was a bit old, but reliable. All of the windows had been rolled up, and water began to pour in through the smallest openings at a slow rate, giving Dean more than enough time to get together his belongings. With haste he unbuckled himself and climbed up (the trucks front was facing downward as it sank) using the drivers seat to pull himself up and into the back where a large forest green duffle bag lay wedged in-between the seat and the floor. As fast as he could possibly move, Dean began to fill the bag with anything important within sight.
A sudden but soft knock could be heard from above. Dean looked upwards, watching as the Berserker gripped the rear window of the truck and began an unceasing effort of slamming its crystallized fist into the glass. Being underwater prevented the Berserker from utilizing its full speed and strength, another silver lining to this rather horrid plan. After the last of his items had been stored away, Dean zipped the duffle bag closed and dropped it to the floor. His eyes had caught his pistol from earlier, hiding in the corner floor of the truck, still loaded. He gripped the weapon and leaned against the dashboard which pressed against his back. The truck was still facing downwards as it continued to sink. It was like gravity had shifted. Dean could only watch as the sunlight continued to fade away the closer the truck sank to the bottom. There was now a notable amount of water rising in the truck itself. The boy locked eyes with the raging Berserker as it continued to thrash against the rear window of the truck that served as more of a ceiling from the angle the truck now found itself at.
If he was going to die, this certainly seemed like it'd be the way to go, Dean thought. There was a glimmer in the boys eyes, a glimmer of light and life. He would not go gentle into the dying of the light, and with newfound purpose, decided to bring the Berserker down with him. He wanted the two of them to go hand in hand together, and perish at the bottom of this lake, their remains trapped here for the rest of the hellish eternity that engulfed the world.
The window began to crack as the Berserker continued to slam its fists against it, the crystals in its hand only amplifying the power of each hit. Every strike caused the cracks to grow like vines on a jungle tree. Not wanting to give the Berserker the satisfaction, Dean aimed his pistol directly at the Berserker and fired.
Water came rushing into the truck like a tsunami, bringing with it a monster more terrifying than any natural disaster. The Berserker collided into Dean, the momentum of the water shoving the creature into the boy without balance or direction. A struggle ensued as Dean began to wrestle the horrific being before him. The water proved to be in the boys favor, as the Berserker was in too much of a frenzy to properly utilize its inhuman strength. The creature flailed about, and unlike Dean could not relax its muscles or focus. Dean managed to position himself behind the creature during the scuffle. He put the Berserker in a headlock using his right arm, and with his left reached for a seatbelt, wrapping the fabric around its neck and tying it in a similar knot like the ones he had learned in his years as a boy scout.
With as much haste as the water allowed him, Dean moved to tie the rest of the Berserkers limbs in a knot using the other seatbelts provided. Its arms and neck were practically chained to the trucks seat. Deans pistol floated above him in the water. He almost wanted to smile as he grabbed the gun, pressed it into the base of the Berserkers neck, and unloaded every bullet into the creatures spine.
Unbeknownst to Dean, the entire struggle had caused him to lose a significant amount of air, and his vision had gradually become blurry with each passing second. The Berserker was still, and floated in place in its newfound grave. This was the last thing Dean saw before he blacked out, his body floating in place just beside the Berserker as a result of his foot being caught in the steering wheel.
Gently, the truck continued to descend towards the bottom of the lake.