they don't claim to know a lot, but they suspect several things......!!

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Time had passed.

It was the next day now.

Sam and Auggie were still at Fred's death site.

Fred's dead and broken body was only just now being covered up with a white sheet.

"—ear the scene of the crime?"

There were cop cars all around, a firetruck, and a coroner's van. The scene was barricaded off, but they didn't stop nosy civilians and news reporters from crowding on the outside and trying to look in.

"Hello? Did you hear me?"

Sam's head snapped away from Fred's covered corpse. "S-Sorry, what was that? I... I didn't catch it."

Officer Pow — Chief Powell, Sam had to remind herself; Hopper was gone, Hopper wasn't coming back — Chief Powell sighed almost sympathetically. He repeated, "Did either of you see Eddie Munson near the scene of the crime?"

Sam finally snapped out of it, head shaking. She looked at Chief Powell like he was insane.

"Wha — No! That's not important right now!" Sam motioned to Auggie, who was still throwing up in a bucket. "I told you what I saw, Chief."

Chief Powell crossed his arms, not backing down. "Well, I still want to know how you ended up at the scene, anyways."

Incredulously, Sam motioned around wildly with her hands. She snapped, "It's a road! Some people do that, you know? They go on it."

"Then where's the car?" Chief Powell asked.

Sam pointed towards her sad bike. "I'm fifteen, do I look like I can drive?"

"Is he fifteen?" questioned Chief Powell, nodding towards the retching Auggie.

She crossed her arms, shrugging cluelessly.

"I have never seen that man in my entire life."

Officer Callahan raised an amused eyebrow at Chief Powell. He mused, "Oh, she's feisty."

Sam felt the urge to grin at him but felt that would be very poor timing.

To Sam, Chief Powell started, "Alright, watch your tone—"

Oh, yeah. Sam remembered they were standing next to a corpse.

"He is dead," glared Sam, pointing at the white sheet laid over Fred. "That innocent kid is dead, and you couldn't stop it! Two teenagers in two days, and you — what? You want me to watch my tone?"

They didn't know it, but Sam knew it. She was talking about herself. She was upset at herself. She should have been able to stop Fred's death. She should have been able to stop Chrissy's. If only her mind moved just a little faster; if only she paid attention to the drawing she left behind on the AV room desk.

This was all her fault.

"Sam?" came a very familiar voice from behind.

Sam whipped around in bewilderment. "Nancy?"

Auggie coughed into his bucket, no longer retching. He questioned, "Wheeler?"

"What — What are you doing here?" Sam asked, caught off guard.

"What are you doing here?" Nancy turned the question around.

The girls had a silent conversation with their eyes. Things were happening again, they knew, just a lot different and on a much larger scale. Sam's expression told Nancy that the blonde didn't coincidentally end up at the wrong place at the wrong time; that there was something wrong going on.

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