Kilo-61 (Damned of the 2/19th Book 19)- Ongoing

Bravo Bunker

Blackbriar Ridge Training Facility
Secure Military Area (Decommissioned)
North Dakota
United States of America
18 Feb, 2002
1840 Hours

It was cold inside the building, the air smelling of age, rust, and damp. The NVG's lit everything nice and green, clear as day. I took two steps in before the voice of the female lieutenant stopped me.

...she had a name...

...so do pet rocks...

"Sergeant, we can't wear our masks and our NVG's at the same time," She told me.

...shit...

I turned around, pulling off my NVG's and letting them hand down around my neck. "You're right. Did any of you bother bringing flashlights?" I asked. None of them raised their hands and I shook my head.

"I gottem," Heather said, turning around and heading back out the door. I reached up onto my LBE and clicked the L shaped OD Green flashlight on so that that the Xenon bulb lit up the hallway. I shifted my body so I could see the hallway as y light swept across it.

Dust on the floor, no prints in the dust. The suspended ceiling was still intact, the fluorescent lights still in the proper place. I could smell the years that the place had sat abandoned. The place felt hushed, waiting. Not dead, not sleeping, just still. Like a the black frame that separates two movie scenes paused. The same half expectant hush.

"Here, take this. Put the extra batteries in your pocket," Heather said.

"Why are they wrapped in tinfoil?" One of the privates asked.

"Protect them from ionization," Was all Heather said.

Lights clicked on and were panned around.

"Hey, Sergeant?" Another on of the privates.

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you wearing a mask?" He asked.

"I'm Special Weapons," was all I said. "Let's move out."

We move down the hallway, our boots clomping. I followed the white line, remembering that the white line would lead to the center hallway where there would be more stripes. Yellow for the lunch room, white for the office, red and white striped for the nurse's office, green for the gymnasium, and red for the front door.

We wanted the gym.

 We hit the middle and I turned to follow the green line. The building was silent, our footsteps muted by the heavy construction of the building. I knew that it was rebar reinforced cinder-blocks and concrete, double layers with an air gap, designed to withstand a near hit at anything below half a megaton.

"Damn, this is creepy," One of the private said.

"Maintain noise discipline," I snapped. I stopped in front of a pair of double doors. "This is it," I hefted the tanker bar. "Keep watch. Anyone comes toward you, give warning to stop and kneel, then fire for center mass."

Two hits and I managed to get the leverage to rip open the door, exposing the gym. Our flashlights swept over it, showing that the bleachers were folded against the wall, that there was a full basketball court, and a stage beyond.

The floor had a thick layer of dirt over the wax.

Dust puffed up with every step I took deeper into the gym. I looked at the sides of the stage, seeing that there were two markers, almost like bathroom markers. One for girls, one for boys. A method of quickly processing the kids. I led them toward the girls section, knowing the usually it was the faster, more streamlined of the two entrance systems.