By the time Don reached the locker room, the heat from the training cell had faded completely.
Only exhaustion remained.
The compound felt emptier than usual. Most personnel were either assisting with cleanup efforts aboveground or deployed elsewhere throughout the city.
Eventually he pushed through the locker room entrance.
The familiar space greeted him.
Rows of metal lockers lined the walls.
Benches sat bolted to the floor.
The faint smell of antiseptic mixed with old sweat lingered stubbornly in the air.
Nothing had changed.
Which felt strange considering how much everything else had.
Don crossed the room and stopped in front of his locker.
The combination lock clicked beneath his fingers.
A second later the metal door swung open.
His belongings waited exactly where he'd left them.
Spare clothes. A small phone. A pair of aviator sunglasses.
Ordinary items.
Things he'd shoved inside weeks ago without a second thought.
