Sam put his arms around Stevie once more, holding her close in an attempt to comfort her, as she certainly seemed afraid. He looked over her shoulder at the beast and shook his head. "No, there is no way that could be true. Werewolves are mythology, stories created by superstitious people during the middle ages. This is...well I still don't know what this is, but there's no way it could be some myth." He said, trying to rationalize the experience. Although he did not realize it consciously, the infection had already worked its way into his very being. He was too distracted to notice, but both he and Stevie had gained significant muscle mass, and their senses were much more acute. Unfortunately for them, it would not be long before the beasts within took hold and they underwent their first transformation. 

"Maybe...maybe we should just get back to the car. Go home, get cleaned up, get a new change of clothes, and try to forget this ever happened. I really don't want to stay around that...thing any longer." He suggested, eying the rotting corpse.