Alone • Liam Dunbar

Sixteen

Right after spotting Brett's name, I scanned the field for Violet and Garrett. Garrett stood alone now chatting with the other players, his cocky smile far too wide. My eyes darted to the bleachers where Mason sat, smiling down at his phone, the seats beside him still empty. Violet wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Damn." I cursed and ignored the stares of the people I had to push past as I sprinted towards the direction of where the medics carried Brett.

Scott didn't run at the same time I did, but within seconds of me stopping in front of the double doors of the school, he was at my side. There were no blood-curdling screams coming from any direction so I took that as a hopeful sign.

"I'll round the front to see if the ambulance is still here, you go to the locker room, if you don't find him come back here." My tone was direct, not wanting for a situation like this to have any chance of a mishap.

I don't think I could handle any decapitations today.

"Be careful." Scott orders before bolting into the building.

I set a quick pace towards the front of the school, my boots scuffing against the pavement as I tried to be silent but fast. The ambulance was parked in the lot closest to the field in case of emergencies. As I approached it I peered inside the windows and squinted through the darkness but came up empty.

Realization dawned on me that this meant the medics never made it out of the locker room, and Scott was about to walk into a trap. I turned and threw caution to the wind with how much noise I made as I raced in his direction.

I could see Stiles coming towards me from the field, the scrimmage continuing behind him. The game was back on and none of those people knew what was happening right next to them.

"Locker room!" I call out to him, both of us pushing through the double doors into the building. Funny how it was only a few hours ago that the boy's locker room with Stiles was exactly where I didn't want to be.

I could see the body of one of the medics laying halfway outside the locker room entrance, hopefully just unconscious. Stiles tripped on his own feet and collided with the door frame, barely dodging the body.

"Oh wow." He said with surprise as he stared into the room. I came up behind him, my posture relaxing at Stiles' calm demeanor. 

Scott stood over three more bodies on the floor of the locker room, small beads of sweat dripping from his temple. One body was the other medic near the lockers, the second was Brett laying face first on the damp tiles, and the third was Violet knocked out right beneath Scott.

I smirked at Scott who looked annoyed. The image of Violet trying to go one-on-one with him? Hilarious.

"You better call your dad." Scott tells Stiles as we observe the scene in front of us.

My eyes fall onto Brett as he starts a vicious fit of coughing, his body jerking as they shake him but he's too weak to move. Scott and I squat on either side of him while Stiles stands guard in the hall, calling his father.

"Werewolf?" I ask when I notice Scott sniffing the air around us.

"Yeah, I didn't even realize earlier." He frowns. 

"Some werewolves can mask their scent, it makes them weaker but in a new environment I'm sure it's worth it." I tell him as I reach out, my fingers finding Brett's pulse point on his neck, his heart beating far too fast.

Now that I was close enough to examine Brett, I could see the gash on his leg that oozes not only blood but a mysterious yellow substance that was far too bright to be a normal bodily fluid. Wolfsbane poisoning.