After searching for an hour or more he’d found plenty of bodies, a great deal of blood, and more shell casings than he cared to count. But surprisingly the lack of bullet wounds didn’t concern him. Despite the abundance of light within the bunker and its many uninhabited rooms he’d seen no evidence of broken lights, bullet-riddled walls, or even signs of ricochets that might have been obvious. It was as though whatever the gunmen had been shooting at had either absorbed the bullets or, eaten them maybe.
That was a ridiculous thought of course and not worth entertaining. But it would have been an easier explanation than the many doomsday scenarios that his addled mind was currently coming up with. He’d wandered through the entire bunker as far as he knew, and so far he’d only come across one individuals. There was evidence of the other four that existed somewhere in the bunker, but how he knew it was just them he still wasn’t certain. He just knew that they were few in number now and were doing anything but banding together.
The first person he’d come across had been found in a locker room as he’d been poring through the bunker. He’d come across the man quite by accident and as a result had almost had his head blown off. The old codger had fired off what he’d called a warning shot and then threatened that if he came any closer to his wing dings that he’d put a round where the sun didn’t shine.
He hadn’t tested that threat, but had moved on instead. The next person he’d found had been even less kind.
(to be continued)