room 216 ; wednesday evening

Sam hadn't been having the best of weeks. Most of the time, he could internalize that and get by but today, it was coming out in the form of a quiet moodiness that had been trying to overtake him since last weekend. He didn't know what it was but he knew he didn't like it.

Getting word from Seattle about some vicious and unusual attacks on locals hadn't helped. Getting word from Brannoc of all people made him realize the seriousness of the situation and also made him wonder if Douglas had somehow, inexplicably, survived. He knew that wasn't possible but he couldn't help thinking it. Nevertheless, Brannoc had told him no one had been killed but it was troubling anyway and that he'd sent Brid out to see if she could find out more. Sam knew Brid could take care of herself but he still worried. He couldn't help it.

He'd promised Brannoc to call Brid in a day or so to see what she'd found and made Brannoc promise he'd call if anyone died since that would be his area of (sigh) expertise. The conversation had been terse and short but it had still rattled Sam. Douglas Montgomery was gone but never forgotten apparently.

And he hated that.

To try and get his mind off things, he was trying to replace the wheels, trucks and bearings on his skateboard to make an easier ride. They didn't need replacing but it was busy work and he needed that.

[I am actually home before dark so open door, open post!]