Project - 16 by Martyn J. Pass

rest of the work could be done on foot. There were
sixteen known bunkers in total and fourteen 'unknowns' that my Dad
hadn't explored. That was a lot of leg work and by the time we'd
checked out a quarter of them it could be too late. Our only hope
was that the Colonel could narrow down our options.
    I heard footsteps on the hallway staircase.
    “ Good morning,” said Riley as she appeared in the doorway.
“You get up too fucking early for me.”
    “ That's why you never get the worm,” I replied.
    “ Did you?” I passed her my map and she whistled. “You've been
working hard.”
    “ There's too many for us to search. Have you heard anything
yet?”
    “ Nothing,” she replied. She was wearing her running gear again
and the clean shoes were on her feet. “Still, I wasn't expecting
anything until this afternoon.”
    “ Do you want a coffee?” I asked. She shook her
head.
    “ I'm going for a run first. Then I'll wash and grab something
then. I prefer to earn my breakfast and it looks like you've
already earned yours.”
    I heard her go out of the front door and set off in the same
direction she'd taken yesterday. I put my Dad's book on the table
in the hallway and began gathering ingredients for breakfast. By
the time I'd put a batch of crumpets into the oven I heard her
jogging back. I set some bacon rashers frying and poured two
glasses of orange juice.
    “ Man, it's cold out there!” she cried as she came in, grabbing
a glass and draining it in one go. Sweat was pouring off her
forehead and it darkened her tee shirt. Again her shoes were almost
spotless and without stopping she took the stairs two at a time to
go and get washed. I'd already put a bowl of hot water and towels
outside the door to her room, knowing that Rangers were worshippers
of routine and that her 'run' would last almost the exact same
length as the previous one. I filled up her glass again and flipped
over the bacon, watching the dawn slowly crawl up the lazy sky,
almost sad to have to wake up to a winters day so early. I had my
own routine and I felt its primeval call. Breakfast first, then a
patrol of the grounds which took over an hour, then back for
another pot of coffee before retreating to the library to read or
fill in my own notebooks. I was hoping that Riley would have
something for me by that time so I didn't expect to be reading
today.
    She came back smelling of deodorant and soap and wearing her
combats with the tight woollen jumper and high laced boots. This
time she wasn't wearing her hat and her damp hair hung loose over
her shoulders.
    “ Bacon, scrambled eggs and crumpets,” I said, setting the
plate in front of her as she sat down. “There's some cheese in that
dish and sliced chillies in the other.”
    “ Butter?”
    “ In that dish there. Get some on the crumpets while they're
hot.”
    She smeared some on as she tapped away at the tablet she'd
brought with her. I poured two cups of freshly ground coffee, then
sat down to eat my own breakfast. Somehow she was able to eat and
drink without taking her attention from the tablet. At one point
her fork suddenly stopped mid-air and the piece of bacon she was
about to eat dropped back onto the plate.
    “ What's wrong?” I asked. It took her a moment to answer and in
the meantime she began tapping at the thing with renewed
enthusiasm.
    “ I... I can't make it out... all the sites I go on, they're
going down somehow. People are posting stuff about the riots, but
then they're saying something about an explosion in Detroit and
Washington... Reports are sketchy.”
    “ Is it getting worse over there?” I asked.
    “ I... There's some photos... Oh my God!”
    She turned the tablet to me and I saw the image but it took a
while to make out what I was looking at. Then she tilted the thing
and the image flipped and I realised it'd been upside-down. It was
a shaky picture of a large explosion cloud hanging over a city on
fire.
    “ It's Chicago!” she said. “They nuked