Laughing and fearing for his life, he turned and ran down the hall
as quickly and quietly as he could with his arms full, dumping the
drywall in front of the bathroom door. Colt spun around, holding up
his hands as if in surrender, muttering to himself, "Yeah, I'm
dead..."
Balling her hands into fists, Nadia stalked after him. "COLT, GET
BACK HERE RIGHT NOW." She went right up to him. "Y'know, I thought
being a student here, you would be smart. Yet you go and make fun
of me by calling me TINKERBELL?!" She immieadiently began berating
him, her words getting faster and faster, tripping over themselves.
Spanish began coming in little by little until she was tearing into
him in the languge. Eventuall she ran out of breath, her eyes
flicking to the large peices of plaster.
The whole time, Colt was holding his breath, knowing the second he
let it out he would burst into laughter, which certainly wouldn't
make the situation better. When Nadia started the Spanish, he had
to clap a hand over his mouth to fight it back, shaking in silent
hysterics. Goodness, it was so tempting to say something, but he
knew if he did, A) he wouldn't be able to keep it together, and B)
Nadia would murder him more.
Eventually, she managed to catch her breath. She glared at him,
hands on her knees. She snapped, "You are-so lucky I need you to
carry things or I would murder you." Her eyes went back to the
plaster. "Actually.." she mused. "No, I still need your strength."
She stood up. "You wanna clog some toilets or what?"
"Glad to hear I'm needed," he said wryly. "Yeah, sure thing! I can
set to work on the closet walls and then carry the drywall over
here while you dump it in the girls' toilets. Maybe leave one
untouched, though." Turning and beginning to head back, under his
breath he whispered, "Oompa Loompa..."
"I HEARD THAT, COLT!" She snapped. "You're lucky I'm over here or I
would seriously hurt you, you caballo bebé idiota!" She crossed her
arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "Very lucky."
"Heard what?" he called back innocently, picking up the pace with a
grin. Very lucky indeed, he thought to himself. When he
reached the closet, the boy began to break down the remaining two
walls. The one to the right came down with ease, but the back wall
proved a bit more difficult. It was thicker, more solid, and just
kicking it didn't seem to be working. Ramming his shoulder through
it, though, proved successful on the third try. He was pleasantly
surprised to discover what looked to be an old, run down, covered
over washroom. Along the far wall, tangled pipes and cords showed
where the washers and dryers would have once been located. It
wasn't too large of a room, but it certainly wasn't small, either.
"Hey, Nadia!" he called through the hole in the wall. "You won't
believe this."
Nadia sighed. "Okay, what is it?" She walked back across the hall,
peeking her head in. Her jaw dropped. "What the heck? What is
this?" She fished her phone out of her pocket, typing hurriedly.
She shook her head. "This isn't on the school map at all." She held
the phone up and snapped a couple of pictures. "Why would there be
a room built away like this?"
The gears in his head were already churning, trying to come up with
some usage for this discovery. “I haven’t the foggiest idea. Maybe
they originally built the gym washroom in the wrong place and just
boarded over it or something? Whatever it was, it works out for us.
We could get some plywood from the arts department, create a
sliding door of sorts, and turn it into almost a panic room. Maybe
get some exercise mats from the gym, if any are left, and use those
to sleep on?”
"Better than letting this go to waste. This room is muy sucia, why
don't I clean up, and you get that plywood, okay?" She stepped
through the hole in the wall, coughing on some dust that was
brushed up. "Uunless you aren't strong enough to do it."
“Hmm, I think I just might be able to handle it. I’ll call you if
it’s just out of my league, though, Stubs,” he said before quickly
making his exit, taking off towards the art wing a bit faster than
he would have if he hadn’t just poked a sleeping bear, so to speak.
Well, more like a sleeping koala, he joked to himself.
"Colt, I swear, if the Killer doesn't get to you, I swear, I will
murder you when this is all over," she snapped. She began cleaning
up, moving away fallen plaster and wiping away dust and rubble with
the materials in the closet. Eventually, she paused. In what
apeared to be spray paint was a symbol on the wall, hidden by some
fallen pipe. "What the.." Nadia swiped at the wall, moving away
some of the dust. She moved her phone out of her pocket, holding it
up to the symbol. "What do we have here?" she mused.
A minute or so later and the blond jogged into the woodworking
room, heading straight to the back wall where the scrap wood was
kept. He’d past very few students on the way; they seemed afraid to
be caught out in the halls again, and he didn’t blame them. Those
that he had seen had fixed him with terrified stares, likely
confused and concerned that he moved so quickly and seemed to know
exactly where he was going. Selecting a large sheet of plywood that
he deemed big enough to cover the opening he’d created, he did his
best to balance it in his arms while he grabbed two hammers, a
couple things of nails, a screwdriver, and various other tools,
placing them in a bin lying nearby. Holding the sheet of plywood
out in front of him like a table, he rested the supplies on top of
it and began to make his way back. Though he did have a bit of
trouble getting through the doorway, all seemed to be going well.
Nadia spent a few more minutes scanning the symbol, and then leaned
against the wall, typing into her phone. She waited for Colt to
come back. When she heard his footsteps, she called, "You back,
Godzilla? Because there's something I think you should see."
“Yeaahhhhh, that’s fair,” he muttered, setting down the supplies
just outside the closet. “What’s up?” Colt called as he stepped
through the large hole in the wall.
She looked up from here phone. "Ever see this symbol?" She went
back to typing. "I scanned it, and I couldn't find it anywhere on
the school archives, at least what I can acess with the firewall
that Creepy Principal set up. Looks like it's been here awhile."
“No, but from my oh-so-expert opinion, it looks like a gloved hand
holding a bloody piece of glass. Does that say, ‘We are of
virtue?’” he frowned. The symbol sent shivers up his spine.
Whatever it meant, he didn’t like it.
"Don't look at me, I'm terrible with languges. But it does look
like a hand to me." She sighed. "It could be nothing, but we can't
leave any stones unturned. We could focus on turning this place
into a panic room, but I could see if the school's paper archives
have anything on this. It's up to you though."
""I'm terrible with languages," says the girl who's screamed at me
in Spanish at least thrice today," he quipped. "Creepy Latin
insignias aside, I don't see a point in wasting this room; like you
said, the mark thing's probably been here awhile anyway. If you
want to work on the archives, I can get a start on making the
door."