Photo prompt: Michael Gaida @ Pixabay.com
It looked deserted from the outside, and if someone risked a broken neck to view the inside from the roof, it did not look all that more promising from that angle, either, which was exactly as intended.
It would not do to broadcast the availability of shelter when there were more who sought to ruin what was left than wanted to actually have a roof over theirs.
Better it appeared abandoned and on its last legs already.
The rules were clear: You do not venture out of the pits without permission, and never in daylight. No light allowed during nighttime. Night-vision goggles only. The internal covers at the bottom of pits, which obscured the actual bunker, were to be drawn only after the scopes ensured no one was in the perimeter. The motion sensors were examined weekly. The roof’s latches every other. They could take no risks.
Few had a roof over their heads since the cataclysm, and those who had been fortunate to find or be allowed under one, did best if they kept a low profile or they were certain to lose it. The roof. And the head.
Dingo knew all that.
He also knew that Marlee was out there somewhere, and that the only way for her to find him was for him to plant a signal she would recognize.
How, though, when he was still a Probational and wouldn’t be trusted to come topside without escort for another month?
He tossed and turned on his berth until Steven threw him out, ordering him to go jog on one of the treadmills till he got sleepy.
The common room was empty. The airlock doors blinked slowly to indicate the pit covers had been opened.
It won’t take but a moment to leave Marlee a sign.
For the FFFC photo prompt