Gun Dreams

Dust and Decay
I was on point. The Sky was steel gray. It would be dusk soon.

I carried my Cx4 Storm as we moved slowly through a ruined compound. The grass was hip high here as we approached the gothic staircase that swept up to the main entrance doors.

The double doors were wide open like a gaping maw. We slipped in silently. Two tactical lights switched on and swept the huge foyer. Leaves were blown and piled into the corners. Hundreds of broken chairs filled the foyer as if thrown from the balcony above. Blocking the hall completely. It allowed only one path to proceed.

I moved right up the stairs.

In the dim, I glanced back at her. Her face was turned toward the window. Obscured. Her AR-15 was at the ready.

I moved on. Up and to the left into a long hallway. Tall windows letting in enough light. Enough light to notice that the dust was thick and undisturbed on the floor. It made me relax a little. No one had been here in a long time.

Thunder rolled.

We found a large room as the rain began. It was very dry. A perfect place for the night.

--Thick undisturbed dust...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

why are these gun dreams always so creepy?