The place that David had come to call home was austere. On the surface it was a small bunker, but underneath was a world of concrete and florescent lights. Corridors that stretched on forever were designated alphanumerically. The walls were stark, bare concrete, reinforced with re bar at their core. Pipes were exposed in the ceiling, color coded for identification. Blast doors, accessible only through a key card blocked much of the facility. Sound seemed dampened here, the air sterile, scrubbed a thousand times by the filtration system.
Barrack rooms were kept spotless. Fifty beds to a room for new recruits, five to ten beds for the team barracks. The common areas were even silent, as if holding a breath, waiting for a slight movement.
Strobe lights and sirens sat at junctions, waiting to go off. Weapons lockers and equipment storage were immaculately organized. Everything spoke of flawless military precision.
1 comment:
I like the details here - I do get that there's a sense of military precision, so I think I'd go leaving that unsaid. Also, even though you are describing, I'm feeling more telling than showing. If the weapons lockers are immaculately organized, maybe describe how David makes his men stand at attention while he checks the space between rifles with a ruler or something ridiculously OCD but totally military. The note about the re-bar - I'd to my best to stick with physical details that someone could see, so your readers feel like they're walking through the place.
Post a Comment