The petite woman’s face lit up. “So soon?”
G8 caught the looks exchanged between the two sheriffs and fire chief as Ingrid assured her there was. “You’ll be able to experience your very first Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, not to mention all the other holidays in the spring and summer.” A slap on his shoulder told him P8 was also delighted to learn of this, and he returned the man’s smile with his own.
F8 pivoted around to head for the stairwell. “I’ll pack up my and K8’s stuff.”
G8 nodded. “I’ll grab N8’s since he’s right next door to my apartment.”
“Guess that means I’ll collect T8’s things,” P8 noted.
They descended the two flights to find that level’s door also locked. Korris and Adams stepped up and were able to pry it open like the chief had done earlier on the upper level.
“It took us longer to get inside than it did to check the place out,” Biggs remarked.
The moment G8 and the others walked onto the floor, a suffocating sense of foreboding dropped over them. He, P8, and F8 automatically froze as their internal alarms went off.
“G8?” Ingrid laid a hand on his arm.
He looked down to see her worry. “Something’s wrong here.”
Biggs moved closer. “In what way?”
G8 shrugged. P8 shook his head.
“I can’t put my finger on it,” P8 admitted.
“Neither can I,” F8 said.
“You don’t hear anything?” Sheriff Biggs insisted.
She shook her head. “No, but somethingiswrong. I can smell it.”
“Smell it?”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s…rancid. Like rotted meat, but not rotted meat. It burns the inside of my nose. I don’t like it.”
“Then let’s hurry up and get our things and get out of here,” P8 proposed.
G8 took the lead, already knowing this area by heart. When he got to the first set of double doors, he threw them open and turned down the hallway that led to their individual apartments.
“You’re familiar with this section?” Biggs asked.
“Very.”
“Then how come you never tried to escape before through the stairwell?”
G8 stopped to answer him directly. At the same time, he pointed behind them. “Because all the doors leading to any possible escape route were locked and monitored. If you check, you’ll see those doors we just came through have a security box next to them.”
Biggs nodded, and the two sheriffs and fire chief trailed behind as the others went directly into their living quarters. Ingrid followed G8 and watched as he went straight to his closet.
“Hand me your suitcase. I’ll pack what you want to take,” she offered.
“I don’t have one. None of us do.” He dumped several pairs of jeans and an armload of shirts onto the bed, then bent down to retrieve his only other pair of shoes.
“If you don’t have a suitcase, how are you going to carry everything out of here? There are no boxes to pack it in.”
He grinned as he reached for the pillow. Dumping the pillow itself, he started stuffing his clothing inside the pillowcase. “Go get started in N8’s room. When you leave here, it’s the next door to your right.”
She rushed out of the room as he grabbed everything he deemed necessary and valuable from the small chest of drawers and adjacent bathroom. When he determined he had all he wanted, he took one last look around. Other than his personal items, he’d take nothing that would remind him of this place and of his life here. Satisfied, he grabbed the pillowcase and left the bedroom he’d known all his life. Yes, there was a brief sense of regret, but it didn’t last long.
