Lycanthropy and Me: The First Semester(mlm)

Day 41. Friday Waxing Crescent (Part One)

After what felt like an eternity, the moment had finally arrived.

Malcolm was loitering in the second floor hallway of the Rosewood building.

Tom was sitting in an empty classroom in the Kahlo building.

Grayson was standing in a bathroom stall.

Malcolm spoke into his phone as he began to casually walk down the hallway. Activity around him picked up as students and teachers began to file into their classrooms.

"Last chance to back out." He said.

"Not backing out." Grayson replied, bluetooth earpiece in place. He had not heard a word from Hunter or Abner in over a day. What were they doing? Was Hunter being held in a cell somewhere, or being 'processed' as Tom had put it? What did that really mean? He shook his head and tried to concentrate. "Do you see him?"

"Yeah. Class is in session." Malcolm continued to walk down the hall, glancing at Garou from the small window of his classroom's door. Garou's head was bowed as he picked up a stack of test packets. Whether or not he sensed Malcolm's presence was unclear.

"Thunderbirds are go."

Grayson zipped up the blue overalls Malcolm had acquired for him. While they were worn by many of Redwood's custodial and maintenance staff, they were also worn by the motor engineering students--and ready for purchase at the nearest hardware store.

He put on a matching cap, grabbed the small duffle bag, and headed out of the bathroom.

His current location, the Spade building, was a fifteen minute walk from the faculty gardens.

With the mostly empty duffle slung over his shoulder, he walked briskly across the lawn, and towards the gardens.

The autumn chill was more lenient today, more cool than cold. Still, he shivered. Even if this little heist was successful, there would still be a lot of work to do.

He approached the apartment building, heading to the right, just as he did before, for the side entrance. But to his horror, the door was closed. His grip on the bag tightened. What now?

"Door's locked." Grayson said.

Tom, who had been silent up to this point, chimed in. "Side door?"

"Yeah." Grayson shivered again.

"Try waiting in front for someone to come out?" Tom suggested.

"Y-Yeah. Okay." Grayson headed to the front this time, walking quickly. As he turned the corner, he almost ran straight into the building's porter.

The short woman stared up at him. "You new?"

"Yes?" Grayson replied nervously, the response sounded more like a question than an answer.

"What are you doing back here?"

"Uh...Um...."

"Santos sent you back here?" She scratched at her hair through a dusty old baseball cap.

"Yes! That's right!" He quickly agreed.

His response caused her eyes to roll. "Santos is always sending yuppies back here Thinking I need help. I've been doing this for fifteen years. If I needed help, wouldn't I say so?"

"Uh...Yes?" Grayson blinked.

"Good answer." She gave him a light tap on the arm. "Help me take some supplies inside."

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded.

Grayson could hear Malcolm snickering as he helped the porter wheel several boxes into the basement. After he brought the last set of boxes in on a hand truck, they stood in the doorway.