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One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-three, one hundred twenty-five… wait, no, that's not right…

"Shit," Brigitte swore under her breath as she lost count of the lampposts they were passing. It had been serving as a replacement for counting sheep, since thinking about sheep made her hungrier than she'd like to admit.

"You still up?"

She glanced over her shoulder toward the driver's seat. Sam had been staring at the road silently for the larger part of three hours, but now he kept turning his attention to her and then to the carton of cigarettes in his hand every few seconds.

"I can't sleep." Her voice was soft as she tried not to wake the young blonde girl sitting on the floor in front of her. The last thing they needed was Ghost yammering on about how exciting it was to have not one, not two, but four hell-hounds at her disposal. This had been her favorite topic since they left the cabin a month ago, and they had both gotten more than enough death threats for it. Ghost for being, well, Ghost, and Brigitte for letting her live.

"Worried about something?" She could tell he was smirking. The tone of his voice gave it away.

Tapping her finger against the window, she pointed out the nearly full moon looming over their heads. She didn't look or feel any different; no fangs, no claws, no inhuman sex drive or urges to kill. Of course she was worried.

"What happens tomorrow night?"

"Well," he began, lighting a cigarette in the process and taking a drag before continuing. "Tomorrow night, Ginger'll run off into the woods, Jason will follow her like the good little bitch he is, and I will take down a deer and spend the night ripping it to pieces. I'll share with you, if you want. Don't look at me like that."

Giving him a disapproving glare, the young woman had slumped down in her seat and crossed her arms."You're way too calm about this."

"I've accepted it." It didn't sound like it.

"You're fucking crazy," Brigitte mumbled, sinking down further into her seat.

Sam growled low in back of his throat, a warning. "Look, it's not like I enjoy it."

"Whatever." Ginger and Jason enjoy it. What makes you any different?

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while after that.

"Do you want me to drive?" Brigitte asked quietly once the air thinned a bit. The clock on the dashboard said it was 2:26 and his eyes had begun flickering in and out of focus.

He sighed, exhausted, and pulled over to the side of the road. "Sure."

As soon as the engine cut out and the truck stopped vibrating, both occupants of the front seat became very aware of the goings-on in the back.

"Goddamn it!" Sam threw open the door, jumped out, and banged his fist against the side of the already beat up van. "Would you two give it a rest already?"

"Fuck off!" was the reply from inside.

By this time, Brigitte had made her way over to the driver's side door. "Like she'll listen to you," she said, stealing the cigarette from his lips and bringing it to her own.

"Just 'cause your sister thinks she's the fucking alpha-bitch doesn't give her the right to do whatever she feels like in the back of my truck!"

Bee rolled her eyes, dropped the cigarette to the ground, and pulled her hood onto her head. "I'll get us to the next motel, alright?"

Sam was already halfway around the front of the van, grumbling something about getting Ginger fixed.

It turned out that they were in the middle of nowhere and the drive to the nearest pocket of civilization was a long one. Ghost woke up at some point and began her narration of their "long journey to the next unsuspecting town, where her minions of darkness would finally take on their natural forms." Sam had tried ignoring her, talking over her, threatening to let Jason have her, threatening to let Ginger have her, and threatening to kill her himself, but she wasn't as afraid of him as she probably should have been.

Brigitte was about to tell her that her "minions of darkness" would have no problem leaving her on the side of the highway like roadkill, but just then a loud crash came from the back of the truck. Jason screamed and Sam burst out laughing, but Ghost was finally quiet and stared up at the driver with large, questioning eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Uh, well… Ginger, kind of, um, went into heat a few days ago, and she and Jason are…." Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and she bit her lip.

Just say it. They're fucking like crazy rabid rabbits.

Fortunately, Ghost's confused expression changed into one of understanding.

"So she's going to have puppies soon?"

"No!" Sam exclaimed, making both Brigitte and Ghost turn in surprise. He seemed desperate for validation. "We're not gonna to let that happen, are we, Bee?"

She shook her head. "No, we're not. Not if we can help it."

"Oh," Ghost sank back, looking a little defeated at first, but then an idea came to her and she brightened up. "Didn't you say your sister's fur was white?"

Brigitte shifted her gaze from the road to the young girl beside her, suspicious. "I guess."

"Well, your master supposes that's alright then. She thinks she would much rather have hounds with black fur anyway."

"Ghost, be quiet."

"When will you be going into heat, Brigitte?"

"Shut up!" the brunette growled, her blood racing in her ears.

The blonde girl sat back again, obviously disappointed that she hadn't gotten an answer to her question, but not willing to push it should the brunette begin to agree with Sam's earlier threats.

Sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, Brigitte came to the relieving conclusion that he must have fallen asleep before the end of Ghost's inquiry. After a few moments of peace, though, she could hear his irregular breathing. He was obviously faking.

The motel sign came into view at 3:23.

When they pulled in, Sam left without a word and hurried off to pay for two rooms. Brigitte went around to the back of the van and tapped at the window.

"Ginge? We're stopping for the night, okay?" There was no reply, not even a sound.

"Aren't they in there?" Ghost appeared at her side, peering into the back and only being met with shadow.

The image of a bloody, nearly unrecognizable body came to mind, but she tried to push the thought away. "She might've killed him."

"Would that really be such a bad thing?" Sam chimed in as he approached them, tossing a set of keys to Brigitte.

"Come on, pycho! Time to get up!" he called as he banged on the door. Once again, there was no answer. That smirk appeared on his face again. "Okay, then! I guess I'll just have to spend the rest of the night taking advantage of your little sister!"

The door flew open, just barely missing him, and a boot clad foot appeared out of the darkness. A slim body followed it, along with a head complimented by bright red hair and eyes that could burn holes through skulls.

"Kidding! Kidding!" Sam put his hands up in defense, unsure of what kind of mood the red-head was in. She ignored him.

"Hey, Bee. You tired? I'm tired. We should get to bed. Come on." Swinging an arm around her sister's shoulders, Ginger led her towards the the building. Ghost followed as quickly as she could.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages, Bee," she said, squeezing her closer.

"Same here, Ginge."

As her sister pulled her into the darkened motel room, she could hear Sam across the parking lot, telling McCardy to stop crying like a bitch.

There was an uneasy feeling growing in the brunette's stomach, like something was wrong. It felt very familiar.

Hiya peoples! Don't worry, why everyone's alive will be explained... at some point.

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