11: Between you and me...

58 11 4
                                    

POV Seth

Seth stepped out into the warm June evening just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Closing the distance from their last patrol of the campus' outer ring, two middle-aged security guards barred his path, silently demanding an explanation as is standard when nearing curfew.

"I just finished a session with Dr. Yan," Seth explained.

The pair shared a quizzical look, before regarding Seth with concern. "That on the books, Sport? It's more than a little after office hours." The older man frowned at Seth.

"I requested a later session, because I had exams all day and thought a nap might mentally prepare me for my session afterwards. They accommodated me, although I wasn't expecting a session this late," Seth confessed.

"Which doctor did you say?" The officer was pulling up records on his handheld device, verifying Seth's claim.

"Dr. Margaret Yan," he repeated.

The older of the pair nodded as he looked over her schedule for the day. "And your name?"

"Seth Wright." Seth felt the sinister chill of the therapist's vengeance looming.

"You talk to anyone about your sessions? Preferably today's session, and in writing."

He couldn't remember. It was an odd question. "I think so. I scheduled it for Sunday."

"The day after the game?"

"Uh yeah, is that weird?"

The older officer shrugged. "I don't know about weird, but it's never happened before." He smiled at his own joke. His brows furrowed deeply. He closed his application. "I'll be frank with you, Sport, I can't find shit all about your sessions. Not for today or any day this week."

Seth couldn't hide his shock. A firm squeeze of his shoulder promptly forced his panic down. "You're in breach of curfew officially as of twenty minutes ago. We're supposed to detain you. But as luck would have it, I traced your location to Dr. Yan's office just now. So I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to grab that buggy over there, and take you straight home and log your arrival personally. So no funny business, you hear?"

"Yes, sir." Relief washed over Seth.

"You mind saving me a seat, Paul," the old guard spoke to the younger one. "I'll have to rush dinner."

"It was chilli you wanted, with a nice hot butter bun, right?" Paul replied. Guilt gnawed at Seth, but it was better than a report to his sponsors that he'd broken curfew.

"Don't look so glum, kid. It'll be ten-minutes tops to the barracks. Still plenty of time to eat, and I can get my coffee to go." The older guard lightly punched Seth in the arm. He nodded toward the buggies, signaling for him to get in.

"You'll escort him to Security Station A," came doctor Yan's voice. "I have half a mind to write you both up for non-compliance of curfew laws." That woman's voice tore through Seth's mind like raking claws.

"But you kept him past curfew," the younger of the two uttered while looking anywhere else. Her attention was honed in on the other man, who stared daggers at her.

"You and me, Missy, we're gonna have words with the Headmaster about what went down here. And don't you think I can't smell your bullshit a mile away? I tore down demons with more brains than you." The older man moved in front of Seth, shielding him from the viper in the guise of a therapist.

"Badge number," she hissed.

The old man jutted his chin out at her, his large frame towering over her, his muscle tensing. "Your session should have ended thirty-minutes ago, that's the rules. His breach of curfew is on you, Missy. Maybe you should write up yourself."

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