Waking up was still disorienting. Not because of the sudden change in location - which Skulduggery was remarkably accustomed to, come to think of it, for somebody who couldn't sleep - but because he still wasn't used to losing consciousness without actively trying to. Or at least knowing what the cause of it was.
This time, he must have fallen asleep on the couch in the Sun Room just after posting to the bulletin board, because that... was the last thing he remembered. And now, it seemed to be morning again. Did Skulduggery miss a night entirely?
Apparently not. According to Stephanie, when she came bustling into the room a moment later carrying a whole host of things, he'd missed two. Two nights, and two days. It was now Saturday, (and an absolutely glorious day outside, Erik, you're going to feel so much better!) and the patients were being escorted to the nearby town of Doyleton for a supervised shopping trip.
Skulduggery remembered someone from the bulletin board mentioning a similar trip almost a week ago. And things hadn't gone quite as smoothly as Stephanie was now insisting to him they would. He wished vaguely for some sort of concealable weapon; anything might have worked at this point. What he got instead was a bag lunch, a coupon book, and a pile of clothes topped with a t-shirt that, admittedly, did make him laugh.
He wasn't so enamoured with the jeans. Or with the fact that the jacket's zipper seemed to be broken. He did, however, get Stephanie to agree to his wearing a belt with minimal persuasion, which he supposed counted as a minor victory. You had to take those where you could.
Here, near the Institute itself, running wasn't going to do any good. Skulduggery doubted Doyleton would be any better, but at least in a town there'd be less constant supervision. A chance to slip away and see what he could discover. That was more than he'd had so far, and the chance to find a gun within the sheriff's office was a little too tempting to pass up.
He nearly gave his bag lunch to the bus driver when he boarded, but held onto it in the end. He was hungry. He didn't want to be, but he was, and it didn't feel any less sickening than it did before.
Here was an opportunity, though. Someone was sitting alone at the back of the bus. It meant a longer walk, but Skulduggery's balance was greatly improved since he first arrived here, and he managed it without too much difficulty. "Hello there," the detective greeted the man, lowering himself carefully down into the opposite seat. The cheer in his voice was as much for his own benefit as it was for lowering the man's guard; the last couple of nights Skulduggery had experienced were making escape from this place seem less and less possible, even if only for him. "Have you ever been on one of these trips before?"
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This time, he must have fallen asleep on the couch in the Sun Room just after posting to the bulletin board, because that... was the last thing he remembered. And now, it seemed to be morning again. Did Skulduggery miss a night entirely?
Apparently not. According to Stephanie, when she came bustling into the room a moment later carrying a whole host of things, he'd missed two. Two nights, and two days. It was now Saturday, (and an absolutely glorious day outside, Erik, you're going to feel so much better!) and the patients were being escorted to the nearby town of Doyleton for a supervised shopping trip.
Skulduggery remembered someone from the bulletin board mentioning a similar trip almost a week ago. And things hadn't gone quite as smoothly as Stephanie was now insisting to him they would. He wished vaguely for some sort of concealable weapon; anything might have worked at this point. What he got instead was a bag lunch, a coupon book, and a pile of clothes topped with a t-shirt that, admittedly, did make him laugh.
He wasn't so enamoured with the jeans. Or with the fact that the jacket's zipper seemed to be broken. He did, however, get Stephanie to agree to his wearing a belt with minimal persuasion, which he supposed counted as a minor victory. You had to take those where you could.
Here, near the Institute itself, running wasn't going to do any good. Skulduggery doubted Doyleton would be any better, but at least in a town there'd be less constant supervision. A chance to slip away and see what he could discover. That was more than he'd had so far, and the chance to find a gun within the sheriff's office was a little too tempting to pass up.
He nearly gave his bag lunch to the bus driver when he boarded, but held onto it in the end. He was hungry. He didn't want to be, but he was, and it didn't feel any less sickening than it did before.
Here was an opportunity, though. Someone was sitting alone at the back of the bus. It meant a longer walk, but Skulduggery's balance was greatly improved since he first arrived here, and he managed it without too much difficulty. "Hello there," the detective greeted the man, lowering himself carefully down into the opposite seat. The cheer in his voice was as much for his own benefit as it was for lowering the man's guard; the last couple of nights Skulduggery had experienced were making escape from this place seem less and less possible, even if only for him. "Have you ever been on one of these trips before?"