"Out by sixteen or dead at the scene," Ginger stood of Brigitte, who was lying in a daze outside. The pain in her stomach was throbbing by now, and she had only Ginger now to taunt her. "Looks like you're out, B, but the scene is getting closer,"

"You were right about the monkshood," Brigitte mumbled. "It doesn't work…I'm too far in now,"

"Well, duh," Ginger laughed. "I know that! Look at you and Sam, you both have fucking tails! How is it to fuck Sam, I'm pretty curious to know what it's like to shag his bod after Trina Sinclair. Leftovers…is that what you call it? It's just like you've fucked her,"

Brigitte wiped her face; blood was trickling down her forehead. It must have splattered up on her head after she attacked the front desk girl. "Ginger, can you just help me? I'm really sick,"

Ginger tsked. "You should have stayed out of the pool."

* * * * *

It was morning when Brigitte's eyelids were almost too heavy to open and she had to force them apart, preparing herself for a flash of bright light from the window. But the curtains were closed, so she had no idea what time of day or night it was. Slowly, she sat up and found herself on the bed, not lying on the hard ground of the parking lot as she had been earlier, and she was now naked. Across the room, her bloody clothes were in a pile and in the chair, something was wrapped in blankets. She squinted to get a better look, but it moved slightly and she felt confused. "Sam?" she called for him. "What's going on?"

The bathroom door opened and he came out, zipping up his pants and he came over to the bed. "Are you okay? Do you remember anything? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" she repeated, as he reached to her face and wiped a smudge of blood away from her cheek. She had no idea of what he was talking about, unless he meant her eating the front desk girl in the motel parking lot. "I thought that killing the front desk girl would make me better," she explained as she wrapped the bed sheet around her slim body, wondering if he had cleaned her mess. "I told you I was sick, my stomach has been hurting all night and…shit, Sam, we need to get out of here. Three employees are missing from this motel and they'll come looking for us - "

"The van is packed and the bodies are in the dumpster," he sat next to her on the bed. "I woke up and you were gone, I went outside and found you passed out in the middle of the dead girl, covered in her blood, and I brought you in here and cleaned up outside…bloody snow is really hard to pick up, did you know? When I came back, you woke up for a few minutes and you…" he held a long pause, not sure how to explain what had happened. "Did you know you were pregnant?"

Pregnant? Brigitte thought. "Sam, I can't be pregnant, I'm bleeding," she tried to tell him.

"Well, you were pregnant," he replied, looking down at his lap in disbelief. "You had a baby this morning. I think that's why you've been so sick and having all the stomach pains - " he stopped when Brigitte jumped up from the bed, tangling herself up in the sheets and nearly falling to the floor. When she stood up, she gasped at the sight of the bed. The sheets were stained a dark, almost black red with a yellowish ring around it. She hadn't noticed that by the bathroom door, there was a pile of bloody towels and washcloths from the birth. "He's on the chair," Sam lit a cigarette.

Brigitte moved to the chair and looked down at the swaddled baby, although it didn't look much like a human baby. She moved a corner of blanket to find his bright yellow eyes staring back at her, smooth brown hair on his head, but his body was covered with light brown fuzz. "He's already changed?" Brigitte asked, horrified.

Sam stood next to her and they both watched the baby, who gurgled at them and his eyes wouldn't leave them, he was captivated. "Animal gestation isn't as long as human pregnancy, and probably that it was some sort of…sci-fi, I guess, some sort of sci-fi pregnancy, then it took about three days,"

"This is too weird," Brigitte backed away until the back of her legs hit the bed and she collapsed on the crumpled sheets. "How long did it take to have him? Is he yours?"

"Strange, I thought I'd be the one to ask that, only about me," Sam attempted a joke. "But sure enough, he looks just like his old man, or at least what his old man will look like soon enough," they sat quietly, watching him, almost in fear. "He was conceived during one of our hormonal rushes when we felt the absolute need to mate,"

Brigitte had only one thought on the subject. "We have to get rid of him,"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just throw him in the dumpster and let him eat the remainders of the bodies? Great idea, Brigitte, no one will ever find him there,"

"Then how else can we do it?" she demanded. "Go into a baby store and buy diapers and a car seat? Where in the van are we going to put him, on the roof?"

"What's wrong with tying a car seat to the rear bumper?" he asked, obviously in jest.

She couldn't believe him. "Are you serious? Sam, we've created a baby, as a werewolf. That is one thing that is not considered acceptable by nature and the point is that we can't keep him…we have to get rid of him,"

He gave her a look that plainly said 'nothing we have done is considered acceptable by nature'. "You mean kill him,"

That wasn't quite as far as Brigitte wanted to go, but since Sam said it, she went along with it. "We might have to do that,"

"You really want to kill a baby?" he asked. "You really want to kill our baby just because he's more developed along in the werewolf sense than you are?"

"We can't raise something like this!" Brigitte snapped. "Once we're fully changed, it doesn't matter what our human relationship is because we've changed and we don't have emotions anymore! We are not the same afterwards!"

"We haven't been the same for four days," Sam told her. "How is it not your animal instincts or your motherly instincts to hold your baby and…sniff him, and lick him clean, and whatever the werewolf mother would want to do? Why would you want to kill your child?"

Brigitte felt completely aggravated with what he was saying, but she felt that what she was saying was right. There was no way that they could take care of this child because their emotions would rampage and she would an unsuitable mother, even to an animal. "Then what have you decided that we do?" she finally questioned his motives.

Sam's eyes went from hers, then down to the baby and he carefully gathered the infant in his arms. "We have to take care of him," he extended the infant to her and Brigitte paused before accepting him. "Fuck, I could use a joint,"

"In here, with him?" Brigitte demanded.

"And now you care about his health," Sam responded.

Brigitte laid the baby down on the bed next to her and he continued reaching for her, his bright yellow eyes locked on her face. She couldn't see a single resemblance of her or Sam in this child, except for the brown hair on his body. There had never been a moment where she had considered motherhood, since she had planned to be dead with Ginger by now, so she would have had to conceive before the age of sixteen. And now, the proof of life lay before her. "What do you do with a baby?"

He shrugged. "Feed it, put a diaper on it, and give it a name. Are you going to name it before making a deposit into the dumpster?"

"No," she said. "I don't have a particular name that I like. I never planned on having kids,"

"They weren't exactly in my schedule either," Sam told her. "But lately, my plans have taken a U turn and run to the hills." He sat in the chair in the corner, amongst their personal items and the bloody towels and bed sheets, the TV remote in hand. He went to the news channel, where the discussions of William McCardy's case were being discussed further. "Maybe he can admit to all the deaths we've been involved in…we can move to the United States, or Alaska…live in the woods, eat other animals and the occasional old man, and I think we'll be ok,"

"That sounds great, except for the fact that I attacked and killed a man at the diner, and we've killed three people here," Brigitte's voice was loud and full of sarcasm. "He's still in Ontario, and we're…wherever the hell we are. I have no idea. Where did you drive us?"

Sam paused. "Would you believe we're in Montana?"

"Montana?" Brigitte demanded. "We're in Montana? When did that happen?"

"Three days ago, we drove from the diner to Montana. You slept the whole car ride," Sam told her, turning his attention back to the McCardy case on the TV. "Looks like his dad is getting the chair,"

"Recently, the animal discovered in the Fitzgerald home, claimed to be the Beast of Bailey Downs, has been found to have genetic traces of Ginger Fitzgerald, the daughter of Henry and Pamela. Henry was found dead in the home after the fire was put out, and Pamela was shot by police forces outside a diner off Highway 13. Witnesses describe the two others with Pamela as a young girl believed to be Brigitte Fitzgerald, and a young man who locals here have named Sam M - "

The cry of their baby interrupted, yet Sam still knew they had named him. "Those fuckers! They told them who I was! I can't believe those guys!"

Brigitte shifted the baby in her arms, moving the sheet from her chest. "You did hang out with a bunch of losers, Sam. Has no one told you that before?"

The woman continued, discussing how Brigitte and Sam left in the van off Highway 13, and Sam clicked the TV off and threw the remote in disgust. He saw Brigitte lying on the bed with her back to him, and he came over to the bed to lie with her. "Are you feeding him?" he asked confused, seeing the baby lying curled up against her. "That's weird…that's really weird,"

"This whole…adventure…I've been thinking how if Ginger and I had never left the house, we would be playing dead and hating the world and we'd still be in Bailey Downs and Trina Sinclair would still be chasing you and you would…well, you would be in jail because of the Greenhouse Bash," Brigitte paused. "But we'd be clean, like this baby. We would be as pure and clean as he is because he has no marks on him. We're so full of sin and covered in all these marks,"

"What if people are born with a mark?" Sam questioned. "What if the mark isn't visible to the human eye and sin is put upon them before they're even conceived?"

She thought for a moment. "Like the 666 on the devil?"

Sirens suddenly pierced the air and they both stiffened up, eyes wide open and locked on each other. Sam sat up quickly and clicked on the TV, listening for something of importance. "Are they on to us?" he asked.

"Like they would say something and start chasing us right after," Brigitte tore herself away from the baby, who had fallen asleep as he drank from her; he shifted in his sleep, but remained in slumber. She went to the window and tore open the curtains to see red and blue lights flashing down the long road in the distance. "They're coming, Sam!" she turned around to see him on the floor by the dresser, shoving all their clothes into their bags. "We don't have time! They're just down the road!"

"What?" he jumped up nervously. "Fuck! Get the kid, we have to go!"

Brigitte collected their son into her arms, wrapping him in blankets as Sam grabbed the keys to the van and they escaped down the hallway, ignoring the other hotel guests stepping out of the rooms. They flew past the front desk, where an older woman yelled at them to stop but they ignored her. Sam opened the van door for Brigitte before running around the side to get in on his side, but the car wouldn't start at first. "What's wrong with it?" Brigitte cried out.

"Come on!" Sam slammed his fists against the steering wheel, then tried the ignition again. "Fuck! We're fucked!" he said, but the engine started a moment later. He let out a noise that was mixed triumph and anger as he directed the van towards the street just as the police cars pulled into the parking lot. "FUCK!" he screamed again, then directed his attention to Brigitte. "I am NOT getting picked up for this! This is NOT my fault!"

"Get us out of here!" Brigitte couldn't calm herself anymore. She quickly clicked her seatbelt into place because she had heard of Sam's almost racecar driving ways and had seen them herself, and now was the time to not care about safety. It was good timing too, because he hit the gas and went from zero to seventy-five in six seconds. The lights were flashing behind them and the sirens were wailing and whirring in their heads, and they were gaining speed. "Sam, do you really think that you can outrun them?"

He glanced at her; his eyes were wild with rage. "You think I can't?"

She groaned. "Sam, we can't keep running forever!"

"I will run as far away and as fast as possible to get away from them," Sam told her. "I'm not being taken away to be cut up and used as a science experiment!"

Brigitte laid back against her seat, red and blue flashing across her face. There was no way that they could escape this…"Pull over and let me out," she decided.

"I'm not letting you out of here," he replied. "It's you and me against them and we're stuck together for fucking ever!"

"…Let me out of here," Brigitte's voice was deep and it grabbed Sam's attention off the road; he looked at her as if he had never seen her before. The voice that came from her was almost demonic, but she felt as if she was hearing Ginger speak through Sam. "I want out of this car now! Oh shit, watch out!"

She had looked to the road just in time to see another police car speeding, with flashing lights and whirring sirens, and Sam's van was in the other lane at this time. It collided with the police car and they were flying. It wasn't flying like when they injected themselves with monkshood and they were on a drug high, floating into the stars and supernovas. It was faster, and louder and when they landed, the van was rolling into a field and Brigitte didn't realize she was screaming until she bit her tongue and blood filled her mouth. The airbag inflated, pushing Sam with a jerk against his seat and he let out a groan when his head smacked against the headrest. Something had broken in the engine and they could hear it sizzling through the broken windshield. "Brigitte?" he said weakly.

Carefully, she lifted her head and touched her neck gently, finding nothing wrong with it, and she turned to him. "Sam, are you okay?"

He shook his head quickly, and groaned again when his neck hurt. "Are you guys okay?" he asked, his voice and breathing heavy.

Brigitte glanced down in her arms, expecting to find the small body limp in her arms, eyes open and staring out the window, past the moon and into space. But their child was alright, alive even, and he was breathing normally. "Shaken baby syndrome," she muttered, and carefully unbuckled her seatbelt. She reached for the handle, but remembered the police outside and she could see them parking nearby. Brigitte turned to Sam, but saw that his door was open and he was gone. "Sam?" she questioned.

Sam reappeared in the door, but was crouched on the other side of the seat. "Come on, pass him over."

As Brigitte stumbled out of the van, she slid onto the ground and, once again, felt a trickle of blood slide down her forehead and she wiped it away before it could blind her. They escaped the van as quickly and quietly as possible, while the police were making their way towards them. One had remained by the road, directing the little bit of traffic that was slowing by to see the crash. Sam was carrying the baby, sneaking glances over his shoulder to see if they were being followed, as Brigitte pressed her hand to her head. She was feeling dizzy and very unbalanced, and all she wanted to do was lie down and fall into a peaceful sleep. And then, she did fall, yet it wasn't into a sleep but she could feel herself changing. "Sam, wait - " she called out, but the words were warped and she moved her hand from her head to her mouth. "Sam!" she finally burst out and when he turned to look at her and tell her to shut up or they would be found, and she saw he was changing too.

"There they are!" someone from the other side of the van yelled. They took off running, and neither realized that they were on all fours, running low to the ground to move faster. Neither could feel the fur covering their bodies, their hands turning to paws, their tails growing longer and thicker. Their ears grew out long and pointy and they could hear the police behind them, yelling and shooting their guns. The need to hunt was growing and before anyone could realize it, the werewolves had turned and were preparing to attack. A bullet hit one in the leg and the werewolf let out a whimper, barking in pain as the other one continued. It leapt through the doors of the van and attacked a police officer; slashing at his face and slurping the blood away clean from their skull. "Get those fuckers!" the officer's partner yelled, backing away a few steps as he reloaded his gun and began shooting.

No one could see the werewolf lying in the field, his voice returning but he could barely speak. He was bleeding freely from his leg and was gasping for breath; he was tired, and he was done. He was giving up and reached for his jeans, which lay nearby, torn and unbearable again, and went into his pocket for the knife he carried. Slowly, he flipped it open and held it over his chest; the point pressed to his hairy animal chest, over his wild animal heart, and was preparing to stab himself before the instincts took over again. A police car came speeding through the field. It drove around the van and it didn't see the creature lying with a knife, and drove straight over him. Blood splattered across the hood of the car and the headlights, and Sam was no more living on Earth. The car drove straight to the crowd of police officers, where two of them bravely grabbed a hold of the werewolf creature and pulled them off of their dead partner and the creature was flung aside, right into the path of the oncoming police vehicle. With the creature now dead, they were able to collapse on the grass and breathe, taking pleasure in their victorious hunt and being free of the terror that crossed the border. It didn't take long to pull out the CAUTION tape and secure the area as a crime scene, and then clear the field of the dead bodies. Now, all they had to do was find the baby.

The End