Chapter 1: A Year Ago
"Sam," Mary said pushing open the door to his greenhouse bedroom. She heard her own voice, heard herself say his name quietly, questioningly, though she knew he'd be in there. He was sitting at his desk, weighing God knew what.
"Hey," he greeted her, but his eyes still rested on the scale. Knowing she could talk, but needing to wait, Mary entered the room, closed the door behind her, and went to sit on the bed. "Sweet," he said, picking up a tiny bag, "There's five and here's a little extra. Wanna smoke?"
Mary shook her head. "No." Sam's excitement faded as he saw the look on her face.
"What?" he asked, setting the bag down on the table and leaning closer.
"Something's seriously wrong with me," her voice was low, and solemn in her newly acute ears.
"I can tell. Since when do you of all people not want a smoke?"
"It's not that," Mary did not know how to make him understand. "Look." She held out her hands for him to see. Ten long, dark, thick nails had grown in where her own slightly stained ones had been.
"Gross," Sam commented, still joking, and Mary realized his happiness with having extra drugs had never really faded. "Go wash your hands."
She barred her teeth at him, showing him how long they had become. "Look at my eyes," she told him. He did, seeing that the irises were yellow with a dark ring around them. He also saw that she did not appear to have slept in days.
"What did you try and why didn't I get any?" he asked and Mary knew he was referring to drugs. He did not understand the depth of what was going on. He should have. They knew each other better than anyone. If she said there was something wrong, Sam of all people should have helped her. He always had.
"Sam!" Mary shouted. "Drugs don't do this kind of shit!"
"Sure they do. Relax, have a smoke and you'll feel better." What she wouldn't give to make it that simple! She shook her head 'no' again, and repeated the word out loud. "You always say that. 'No' it's not going to make it better. But it always does…" she spoke over him.
"This is different…" His turn now to stop her speech.
"And how many times has it whatever it is been different?" He pulled his chair closer to her, looked her directly in the eye. If this were a normal circumstance, she knew he would be right, and she would give in and they would get high and life would be good later, but this wasn't that day.
"Sam I need your help…Please?" Mary said, her voice very quiet.
"No, what you need is to stop fucking freaking out over every little God damned thing that comes your way!"
"Fine, sit here and get high. I gotta go figure out what the hell is wrong with me." She stood up and walked to the door.
"Do it on your own for once. It'll probably be good for you," he took the few steps to the door behind her as he spoke. She paused after his last word, then spun slowly on the spot, turned to face him.
"Hey, fuck you." She grabbed hold of his shirt collar and pushed him, no, more like threw him back across the room.
That day did not matter now.
"Sam," Mary said pushing open the door to his greenhouse bedroom. She heard her own voice, heard herself say his name quietly, questioningly…and how much did this remind her of before? She pushed open his door, the one she had decorated, looking for him, but the circumstances, she realized, were different. Before, she had been seeking his help, and now she was checking on him, making sure he did not need hers.
He was not there, but she noticed something else. There had been at least two people in the room, if she considered the one actually a 'person'. She could smell where blood had been spilt. She could tell that a few feet to her left, someone had been bleeding. This was another trait she had inherited from her new life. She could tell that whoever had been bleeding had crossed the room, and then someone else had started bleeding, probably Ginger because this new smell was tainted.
She followed the smell back out of Sam's room, pushed her way through the crowded greenhouse and back outside. Here she found a shovel, dropped near the door. The smell of blood grew stronger, which meant the shovel had probably been used to hit someone, Ginger again. Mary saw blood on the grass, which meant her theories were thus far correct.
Around the edge of the greenhouse, she heard Sam's van start up. She was only a minute or so behind them. Not thinking about anything but the fact that Sam was with Ginger, Mary took off running.
