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. I open my eyes slowly, at first disoriented as I begin remembering where I am. The clock says 5:53pm. I roll over feeling my stomach growl and my mouth dry, in need of some water. I sit up and take my shirt off as it is wet with tears, and slip on a gray college sweatshirt with my faded jeans. I stop in the women's bathroom and brush my long hair up into a ponytail and wash my face before taking the elevator down two floors to the dining hall.When I step out of the elevator, I hear the clinking of plates and the muffled sounds of voices before I even enter the room. I see both patients and employees and I can feel their eyes on me as I take a tray and step in line. "How's it going? I'm Scott. I've been around here a while, I'd be honored to help you get adjusted, help you relax...." I hear a deep voice from behind me and I turn and see a young guy, maybe 24yrs old, not too tall, short buzz cut hair, tattoos on his neck, and a dark, burnt-out look to his intense eyes. I'm anxious, he. The only problem was that they weren't around.For this auction he had decided about a month ago that he would look after things on his own. In retrospect perhaps that wasn't a good idea. The arrival of the archaeologists was, thought Freddie, bloody inconvenient. And now he had to deal with things himself. That's what comes of trying to save money, he grumbled to himself as he trudged through the darkness towards the tourist apartments at the back of the port. The first thing was to steal a car.The idea was to burgle the site cabin; to get the video and maybe make a bit of a mess to give the girls the idea that they might not be welcome. The car was to give the impression that whoever had done it had come from some way away.There were three pale green Fiat Punto's in varying states of rusting deterioration, pulled up outside the Dimetrios Apartments. The first one that he tried had the keys under the driver's floor mat, left there by the last renter. Freddie didn't know why tourists.
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