Isolation & Fear (Damned of the 2/19th Book Seven)

Prologue

2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
7 November, 1987
0450 Hours
Day 7 of Isolation
Day 5 of Sobriety

The tile was warm against my skin as I lay naked on the floor of my room. The wax was highly polished, smooth, slick, a transparent layer between my skin and the actual tile itself. I exhaled and saw it was warm enough that my  breath left no trace on the tile.

On the dresser the clock ticked steady, a windup brass clock that was standard in the rooms of guys like me who just got their clocks from supply. The steady metronome click-click-click of the gears and mechanism inside the brass case that I'd used Brasso to shine until I could see myself reflected in the metal.

I was sober. The first three days had been tough, the knowledge that there was plenty of alcohol around the barracks had made it even harder to keep from finding a bottle and slugging it down. To take the edge off of being in the barracks alone.

It was strange. I'd had Diana, AKA Sergeant Basset, recommend me some medication for hallucinations and explosive rage. Something aside from Valium, which I told her I had an extreme aggressive violent reaction to.

Before I sent her into the tunnels with Cromwell she had written me a prescription.

And I'd robbed the Dispensary pharmacy.

Now I was laying on the floor, listening to the click and whir of the clock, the clink of water droplets steadily falling from the faucet of my sink, my breathing against the tile, the thud of my heartbeat in my chest.

It was not quite 0500 Hours, 5 AM, almost the start of my duty day.

Day five of my sobriety.

Day two without Westlin, Bomber, or Nancy keeping me company.

The barracks were warm now. Closed off from the outside. I'd dropped the heavy blast shutters over the main entrances and the important offices. The rooms didn't have shutters, they were designed to just accept the blast wave, let it pour through the barracks and out the other side, so that the rooms could be recovered and used. I'd made sure all the windows were shut, all the broken ones boarded up.

The previous Rear-D had damaged only a few areas in the barracks. I'd spent days cleaning and repairing those areas. Then I'd gone into the QASI office to make sure that I had all the paperwork from Atlas and then gone through and finished it all up.

Now I was down to just performing security sweeps and logging the steady tide of nothing that compiled my day.

The alarm started banging and I rolled over, climbing to my feet, and moved over to the dresser. One hand to shut off the clock'ss alarm, the other to pull open the drawer.

Socks. Blue PT shorts with gold edging. Blue PT shirt with gold edging, "2/19th SWG" on the front right breast. Combat boots. Run my hand through my blond hair.

I needed a hair cut.

After I dressed, almost ritualistically, I put a brown towel around my neck and headed out of the room. I hit the light switch on the way out and the night-light came on behind me, keeping the room from being in total darkness.

I'd installed a night light in every single room in the barracks.

The hallway was brightly lit, warm, the wax on the floor polished to a high sheen. There were a few mars on the wax from my boots. I'd need to buff it out again, and I made a mental note to take care of that after lunch.

Down to the War Stocks Room. The big one, with the water heaters in it.

The lights snapped on when I passed my hand over the bank of switches, throwing them all at the same time.