It was a quiet, overcast Sunday morning.
The campus was still half-asleep, shrouded in a cool, misty fog that hung low over the pine trees. I was sitting at the wooden table in the annex, carefully re-wrapping the athletic tape around my wrists, enjoying the rare silence before the afternoon conditioning session.
A sharp, loud knock echoed off the front door of the annex.
I paused, my eyes narrowing. Frayer had left hours ago for early perimeter patrol, and Kristine hadn't knocked on this door in weeks.
I stood up, pulling my light jacket around my shoulders, and opened the door.
A young campus administrative runner in a crisp blue uniform was standing on the porch, holding a clipboard. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering for a second on my sports wear before checking his pap
