The Story continues. What should I name it?

The Legos were on my mind that night, appearing in several of my dreams that night and for several nights to follow. So was Isabelle. If she was free, I would bring her back with me. I waited several days before deciding to return. I was not afraid, tired, nor were tasks or needs keeping me away or otherwise busy. I just do not feel a need to rush life, I suppose. The Legos and the cat topped the list, but curiosity about the rest added some pressure to the psychic thumb screws which invariably lead to the minding of a matter. After several days had past, it was time. Knowing the night might be a long one, I took a nap the whole of the afternoon, setting my alarm clock for 20:00.

When the alarm went off, I easily and quickly silenced it. I had been dozing that last half hour, gulping rest like a man who eats more than he should knowing he may need extra energy beyond the time he would get it from a regular sized meal and knowing he may not have the opportunity beyond this one to eat. My feet swung around, flattened to the floor, squared to my shoulders, and became perpendicular to the wall before me. If not for the carpet, they would have slapped down. I like crisp exits.

A quick wash and a brush of teeth and hair, and then to my clothes and gear. Fashionable yet functional is the mode of the day, I decide. Cotton is best in the heat and stress. It absorbs sweat like I slug down water, by the gallon. I prefer something in a shirt and pants which allow a full range of motion and cover me as fully as possible. Boots, gloves, and a knit cap fill out my outfit. Next the keys, goggles, a few tools, my favorite knife, and the pistol along with several mags. Each is checked, then put on, pocketed, holstered, or otherwise fitted appropriately.

I check my surroundings. The traps, some quiet, some loud, I have set to detect near and far approaches are all intact, and I see no one beyond those. I grab a quick cold bite to eat. A little beef jerky, a glass of tea, and an apple provide decent fare. I stash a piece of jerky in a belt pouch and don my camel back. One more check of the surrounding area, and with an all clear, out into the evening I go.

I am a creature of random habit. I will follow the same path for a while, then not, independent of planning. This night I will use the same path as before, same game plan, same techniques. I head around the large building, but half way around I spot a small group of people heading toward me, roughly, but in a direct line that is tangent to the encircling path I am following. I quickly lower and sidle toward an abandoned Subaru wagon and carefully peak through the vehicle’s windows. I watch the band approach then angle away. I cannot observe great detail, with the gloom, trees, and tinted glass hindering my goal. I do see three people, what looks like two males and a female perhaps, and that they do not seem to have noticed me. All remain in the group and the group continues in it’s previously noted direction and at a regular if lackadaisical pace. In three minutes they are out of sight and sound. I wait another five minutes, then cautiously continue to my staging area.

I use the same system as before. The plan works well, and I gain entrance easily. I decide to check the manager’s quarters, and if all is well, use it as a storage and distribution center. I reach the quarters and check the knob. Locked. I pull out the keys, and try the master key on the knob itself, first. *click* Then top bolt. *click* Then the secondary bolt. *nothing* I attempt to open the door, and succeed. I close it again, attempt to lock that bolt again, *click* then check. It is locked and that does secure the door. As I am sure it was locked before, and now know it does bar the door when locked, I must conclude someone has been here and at least unlocked that bolt. Someone has some of the keys, at least. I decide to check the manager’s apartment closely.