More lies, see. But at least I am awake, and already.

I lifted to a stand, then hunched and buckled my knees a bit so that I would not be full height, would have a little flexibility with regards to changing direction and speed while being able to tilt my head down a bit so that with a lesser turn in either direction, I would be able to more quickly and surely scan the full surround. I began my approach quietly, with a steady guarded pace. The empty windows stared at me, as the eyes of a sleeping or seemingly dead animal which might waken or quicken and swallow me whole. Swallow me whole it would indeed, but would it release me was the question.

No movement or sound caught my notice. The breeze rustled leaves or cut a corner in such a way that I would reckon the source, but only for a moment. Evidence or understanding coming before any serious reconsideration of my plan was considered. The complex slowly became larger in my field of view, blocking out all the world behind it as it’s maw’s detail became complete. Plexiglas, aluminum, glue, and steel married and settled into a single entrance door with a foot wide window to either side, joining seemlessly above the door, the plexiglas then cut by the metals into five foot by six foot panels on up the three stories of the height. The plexiglas was a barely opaque, probably a dark smoke color, though the goggles cut through it twice as well as I might have expected, at most viewing angles.

As I arrive at the door, a sound, a movement, a… a feel. I glide to the edge of the entrance, my back to the brick of the outer wall, the nearest window 6 feet to my right, and begin finding an angle which lends to looking into the entrance plexiglas, and stairwell behind it, to my left. I lower to a squat again, find the angle, and lean in, attempting to keep my vision clean and remain as out of the picture of view as possible.

Only a few moments, very little noise, might I have escaped detection? What was it, if anything? What had triggered my alarm. I was checking my memory to find whether it was a sound, a movement, a combination, or just a sense beyond those, a scent? No, no surety, but I trusted then and now as I search the area for movement, while I listen for sound. Nothing immediately, so I lean back and take in all that is outside with me once again, while leaving some of my attention focused on the interior, now behind and to my left. I wait a few moments, take a sip of water, then turn back toward the plexiglas and look and listen again. Nothing, the place looks clean, neat, and empty. I move over to the right of the door and pull, slowly. Unlocked and it begins to open with ease, the door moves silently. The air from inside the building, locked for who knows how long at this point and still warmed from the day, whooshes out in a hurry to refresh itself. I listen intently as I slowly open the door to allow entrance and then I go in.

I gain entry and slowly move to the right side of the hall and tuck into my now all to familiar squat. The steps leading up cut into the left side of the hall, the place I want to go, though is down. In the center of this hall, there is supposed to be steps down, a half of a level and to my right, but I only see a cutout for a door. I listen and look, I look out of the side window as well. Nothing, not a sound, no movement. Go, I say. I move toward the cut to the right and as I approach, I see that it is not just cut into the hall as if for a door, but it also cuts down and in the correct direction in the form of concrete steps. I take them and then follow a short dark hallway to a door, the managers apartment, office, supplies, who knows. I will shortly, actually. I listen at the door, nothing. I reach for the handle.

Motion behind me, I can feel it. It is moving fast. I can hear the sound, the little of it there is. It is moving fast. I spin, my pistol coming out, and then “Meow!”. Stupid cat, I almost shot you I think. I reach down, fluff it’s head, then scratch behind it’s ears. It seems to be in health. I did not smell cat odors when I entered. I will keep this in mind, and if the manager’s rooms provide nothing else, they will provide a temporary holding chamber for my first prisoner of war, if I can work this thing out.

After calming, then holstering my pistol, I turn back toward the door, squat, and listen again. Nothing new, so I raise my hand to the handle and gently give it a twist. It turns and I hear or sense the door release and I push in until I can allow the knob to return to position quietly without catching on the door frame. I ease the door the rest of the way open, slowly, and squat and listen. Nothing going on in party central, so I make my entrance, the cat follows. I could easily contain the little innocent beast, but I think it better to have an open exit than a trapped mute who is only a potential traitor at that.

Initially, I just scan each room, fully, for anybody. The living, the dead, human or animal. There are three bedrooms, a living room with a bar separator between it and the hallway-like kitchen, several closets, a bathroom, an office, and two storage rooms. There is no one, living or dead, save the cat and myself. Nor is there a convenient second exit, though there are a few windows higher on the walls which might be opened or broken in order to provide an exit. I cannot tell the difficulty involved with that at the moment, so I leave that thought as a simple possibility. I return to the door to the manager’s quarters with the cat in tow. I think she realizes my intentions, but just a hair too late. The door now blocks her path, closed and certain. She turns away from the now closed door as if she had not meant to leave in any case, and was just ensuring the door was indeed closed properly. My hand shoots to her head, and gives her a little attention, “meow”, and off she goes. I lock and double bolt the door then I head to the office. The room is interior so I should be able to use my flashlight at least, and save the batteries in the goggles.