The Wild Side | Stiles Stilinski | One

22 - Lockdown

Even though we were being herded around the school by a murderous werewolf out for revenge, I still felt a little weird being in the boys' locker room. Empty and dark, it still seemed to hold the impression of all the jock guys I was friends with. It would have been comforting if I didn't feel like I was intruding, but I was outnumbered two to one by males, so we'd ducked into the boys' locker room instead of the girls'. I wrinkled my nose, willing myself to breathe through the mouth, lest I suffocate in the stench of sweat and overwhelming body spray.

"Call your dad," Scott instructed as we reached the center of the room.

"And tell him what?" Stiles asked, one of his hands still linked with mine.

"I don't know, anything! That there's a gas leak, a fire, whatever. If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it'll take off."

"And what if it doesn't?" Stiles challenged. "What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight? Including my dad?"

"They have guns!"

"Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane-laced bullet to even slow him down! You remember that?"

I bit my lip, another terrible idea forming in my head. "We could call Allison..."

"What?!" Scott rounded on me in horror. "Are you joking?! No!"

"Look, if—if we tell Allison we're in trouble, she can talk to her dad," I reasoned, "and—and then her dad can come and kill the Alpha! I mean, Derek's gone, you look like a victim—"

"And what if she comes with him?!"

"He won't let her. The Argents are like, trained for this stuff, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Stiles said gravely, "and they're also like super suspicious and super, extremely lethal. What's Mr. Argent gonna think when he finds out we broke into the school for no reason and finds Derek's car in the parking lot? We'd pretty much be hanging a sign around Scott's neck that says, uh, 'Hey, look at me! I'm a suspect!'"

"We're not calling Allison," Scott said resolutely. "We just...we have to...we have to find a way out and just run for it."

But Stiles shot that down too. "There's nothing near the school for at least a mile."

"What about Derek's car?" Scott suggested.

"T-that could work," Stiles agreed, lighting up at the first not-terrible idea we'd had all day. "We go outside, we take the keys off his body—ugh—and then we take his car!"

"And Derek," I said resolutely.

"Fine," Stiles agreed in exasperation. "Whatever."

He turned our party around once more, leading us to the exit. He was reaching for the handle when Scott's hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist. He was wearing the same sort of concentrated expression Derek had worn, right before the Alpha showed up. I checked behind us, just in case.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"I think I heard something," Scott whispered nervously.

"Like what?!

"Sh! Quiet!"

I felt Stiles's hand tighten around mine as we slowly edged away from the door. Scott turned the flashlight off, staring steadily at the exit. He must have heard something, because he turned to Stiles and me with wide eyes.

"Hide."

We didn't need to be told twice. We scrambled back down the row of lockers, frantically looking for shelter, but the locker room didn't offer a lot of hiding places. I was about to run to Finstock's office when Stiles yanked me back, opening a locker and trying to push me inside.