Page 38 of Devil's Marker

“Solar sensitive? You mean…?”

“Yeah. They close and seal at dark. Open when the sun comes up.”

Win couldn’t have hid his appreciation if he’d wanted to. “Very, very sweet.”

Catcher leaned back and looked around like he was trying to see it through Win’s eyes. “Thanks.” He nodded.

“Where’d you learn all this stuff?”

“Mostly from Uncle Sam, but a couple of things are my own design.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Win said, “You patchin’ in soon?”

“Think so.”

“I gotta ask. Has this been tested?”

Shaking his head, Catcher said, “Nope. Lots of drills. That’s it.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“You know it.”

“What goes on in the drill? You got a system. Like muster?”

“That would be the usual scenario. Get weapons. Gather in the commons for further instructions from Boss if he’s here or Zipper if he’s not.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Win said, “What else? You got a weapons stash?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bo said. He pointed to the door across the hall, visible through the security room doorway that had been left open. “Wanna see?”

“’Course.”

Bo put in his code for the door across the hall. “We gotta keep it locked. Sometimes we have kids in the building on family days.”

Like the security room across the hall, the arsenal door responded to Bo’s code with a click and then opened a crack.

“Did R.C. design these spaces, too?” Win asked.

“Oh, yeah. She knows every inch of the place. I guess Boss figures if he can’t trust her…”

Bo pushed the door open. The weapons room was identical in size to the room across the hall, but configured entirely differently. Four walls displayed racks of weapons arranged according to category, from floor to eight feet high, just about the reach of most grown men. There were also two standing racks of weapons in the center, like stacks in a library.

Win whistled softly. “There’s enough fire power in here to stave off a siege by the National Guard.”

Bo grinned. “I know. Club’s done well for itself, huh?”

Win nodded. “Sure has.”

“How does it compare to the Huns?”

Win slanted a look at the prospect. “You know I can’t share that, don’t you?”

Bo looked sheepish. “I guess.”

“Just testin’?”

Bo’s smile fell. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Swear.”