A Month with Werewolves Read Free Page B

the walls, there was a female
attendant in a red jumpsuit standing at a counter, much like you
would see at the cleaners. “The laundry facility is open seven days
a week from eight in the morning until four thirty in the
afternoon. The facility is closed on holidays. You'll be assigned a
specified day of the week to bring your laundry in. You'll drop it
off that day and pick it up the next. If you miss your specified
day, you'll be forced to wear dirty clothing until the next
week.”
    I hardly listened as Emmett introduced us to
the woman, too busy jotting down notes to pay much attention to
her. This would be important for me to remember, not only for my
report but for my own cleanliness.
    “Why aren't detainees allowed to wash their
own clothing?” I asked, glancing up just in time to see Emmett's
mouth dip into a scowl.
    “I would appreciate if you didn't refer to us
as detainees,” he rebuked me.
    “Apologies. I wasn't thinking,” I replied
quickly, understanding the error of my words. Still, this place
looked a lot like a prison, both on the inside and outside. It was
hard not to think of the residents in such a way.
    “We actually used to have a full laundromat,”
Emmett continued, though the tension didn't leave his voice. “But
there were issues with some people using too much soap and washing
their clothing too frequently, so the compound officials decided to
start regulating laundry.”
    I hummed in reply, too intimidated by Emmett
to ask any further questions until I was certain he had cooled off
from my last one. It was obvious to me why he was the alpha of the
group. Tall and broad, Emmett emitted a sense of power. His dark
features helped him look the part, with shoulder length wavy black
hair, large brown eyes, and a smattering of ebony chest hair
peaking out from the collar of his jumpsuit.
    The next building that Emmett took us to was
a small recreation facility. Tables and chairs were set up inside,
with a ping-pong table and an air hockey table the main
attractions. There was also a basket full of various balls in one
of the corners. Volleyballs, basketballs, tennis balls, and those
large round inflatable bouncing balls for children. It looked a bit
underwhelming, but better than nothing. I took note of the
surveillance cameras lining all four corners of the room. The
compound didn't seem to trust the werewolves with anything.
    “This is our rec. room,” Emmett told us. “We
hold a ping-pong tournament every Thursday night and an air hockey
tournament on Friday nights. It's a good way to wind down and
socialize. Once a month, the compound throws us a pizza party in
here. They even provide alcohol, a rare treat. Otherwise, alcohol
and tobacco products aren't allowed inside of the reservation. The
Rec Room is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, for
our enjoyment,” Emmett informed us before ushering us out of the
door and to our next destination.
    One of the larger buildings in the
reservation, the cafeteria was filled with rows of wooden picnic
tables, large enough to accommodate at least seventy-five people,
though I knew the reservation only had fifty-three residents, not
including myself. About half of the tables were occupied with
werewolves, taking a break from their breakfast to stare at us
while Emmett continued the tour as if they weren't even there. It
was a bit nerve-wracking to feel so many eyes upon me, and I
imagined that it probably made Chris just as uncomfortable, even
though these would be his people soon enough.
    “This is the cafeteria. It's open seven days
a week. Breakfast is served from eight to nine in the morning. The
cafeteria closes at ten to prepare for lunch service. Then it's
open from noon to two and again from five to seven. If you miss a
meal time, you'll be forced to wait for the next.” Emmett walked us
to the food line, where a woman behind the counter came to greet
us. After a quick introduction, Emmett continued his speech. “All
the food