In the Wrong Space and Time

VII

I HAD A RELATIVELY RESTFUL nap, and I was only momentarily stirred by Tyra moving about in the room a little while before my alarm rang.

I rub the remnants of sleep out of my eyes and kick off the covers with vigour. In doing so, I feel my feet dislodge some things positioned at the foot of my bed.

Strange, I get off the bed and make my way around it to see what had fallen. A pile of clothes lies on the floor, and a piece of paper is stationed next to it. From what I can make out in the dim early-morning light, Tyra's looping cursive is etched all over the small piece of paper.

Tilting my head in puzzlement, I pick the note up and switch the lights on to read it, blinking in the sudden glare.

Hey Caroline, it's 6am now, & I'll be going to the lab early because I had a brainwave regarding the biochemical weapon the team I'm heading is trying to formulate. Hallucinogens & deliriants and things like that... if we release that into the German army's base, they wld hypothetically start killing each other bc they'd be conditioned to think that the people around them are all enemies. OK BACK TO THE POINT because I get too excited every time I talk about Chem.

I don't think you shd go to the uni tmr since you're most probably sick. But you'll probs go anyway, you stubborn twat. So here's a cute combination of clothes for you, because knowing you, you'd just pick any random thing and show up looking like a walking junkyard lol.

I chuckle at this - "Touché. I literally have no proper sense of style." - and continue reading.

Also, I read your list, which I'm not even going to question, you odd duck. My old pair of sunglasses is on the desk. Hope you get all the resources you need. I'll be in the lab if you need me!

~ Tyra

I stoop to pick up a red flannel with black checks as a pattern, the white t-shirt and one of the pairs of jeans that I stole, suspicions running rampant through my mind.

Since when has Tyra Johnson been so nice to me? Can I even trust her? I turn the weathered red flannel over in my hands. Despite my doubts, she's been a great help to me... No big matter. I had better get going.

I proceed to open the door to take a shower in the communal bathrooms down the hall, but I stop in my tracks as I look at the garments in my hands. "I can't walk out of Whittington Barracks dressed like this without inciting suspicion," I mutter under my breath.

I backtrack and pull open my closet door, taking out a simple grey button-up, black slacks and underwear. After looping a white cotton towel over my shoulder, I leave the casual clothing on my bed and move out of the dormitory room, heading towards the many bathing cubicles at the end of the hall.

Apparently, I'm the only one up this early, as all the bathroom stalls are unoccupied, their unlocked doors swinging slightly on their hinges. It paints an eerie scene in the darkness of the unlit room, and so I switch the lights on quickly.

I slot myself into one of the cubicles, hanging up my clothes and the towel before undressing quickly, shivering slightly as my bare skin is exposed to the air. I move to stand under the showerhead, bracing myself for the onslaught of cold water.

Rivulets of icy water soak my hair and run down my body, and I gasp at the chilling sensation. However, I find myself adjusting to the temperature quite quickly.

Reaching for the standard-issue two-in-one shampoo and body wash, I pour a generous dollop into my hand, massaging my scalp and working the shampoo into a lather. I quickly soap myself down with the remaining suds, turning the shower back on and cleansing myself of all the built-up grime from the past day.