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The light flickered, hummed as it came to full brilliance in the still of the night. Sergeant Jacob Levy stirred beneath as the bulb buzzed and popped over head but otherwise refused to budge. A hand came out of this new light and took him by the shoulder, shaking him gently. He rolled away, snuggling closer to the wall. The hand came down once more and shook him with greater force. The sergeant sprang like a flash of light from his bed, drawing the revolver he slept with and bringing it down on the phantom limb which had roused him from his dreaming. Pressed tightly to the door the young man looked frantic, his eyes were wide and panicked looking down the barrel of the old three-fifty-seven. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he panted and wheezed. Levy lowered his gun and ran a hand over his closely shaved scalp.

"What are you doing here, Jim?" Levy asked as he slumped against the wall and slid once more to his cot.

"Captain Evans wants to see you, sarge," corporal Jim Thomas said. "It sounded pretty urgent."

Levy rolled his eyes behind closed lids as his head lay against the cool concrete wall. "They haven't even blown reveille this morning. What is important enough to get me up before the sun?"

"Don't know sarge, he just said it was urgent and he needed you as soon as he could get you." Thomas said

"Well," Levy said as he began feeling for his uniform trousers. "What are we waiting for?"

They arrived at the command center moments before sunrise. It was amazing how loud two sets of feet charging through the empty streets could be. Boots knocking against the pavement sent an echo like gunfire into the night. The pounding of their pulses in their ears was louder than anything either man could hear. Two guards were posted at the entrance of the building, rifles slung over their shoulders as they talked and waited for the morning's relief. Two shadows charged at them from the pre-dawn gloom nut were quickly identified as Sergeant Levy and Corporal Thomas. The guards stepped aside as the men came barreling past them and through the front door.

Another guard was posted outside the captain's office, a fresh set of sergeant's stripes neatly sewn at each shoulder. He was dressed a bit more formally in an old class "A" uniform which made him look slightly nicer than the grunts left to guard the outer door. He raised one hand in the international sign for stop or I'll blow your damned head off while moving his other hand to his pistol.

"I'll need to see some I.D. before I let you pass, sergeant." he said in a deep voice that was obviously on loan to him. His lips had spoken bass when his body screamed soprano. Levy rolled up his right sleeve, causing the guard to flinch at the sudden movement. He took his left index finger and pointed at the skull with a bullet hole and crossed bones tattooed on his forearm; the mark of a militia Ghoul Hunter.

"I've killed bigger and badder than you've ever seen," Levy said as he looked into the other sergeant's eyes. "And I take offense when some piss ant corporal who thinks he's tough shit 'cause they gave him an extra stripe tries to throw his weight around on me. Only damned I.D. I need to show you is my boot up your ass! Now I've got orders to see the captain so you can either step out of my way or I can to move you; are we clear, sergeant?"

The sergeant at the door started to salute, started to move and only managed to trip over his own feet and land unflatteringly on his ass. Levy opened the door and entered the captain's office. Looking through a window over a small field beyond the wall city, captain Edgar Evans was waiting. Tall, broad shouldered and wearing what had been an airforce captain's uniform in another time, another place he was the epitome of the modern officer. He held his chin high and stared at the reflection of the door in his window and of the two men waiting there.

"I've been waiting, Jacob." he said, never straying his glance from the view outside his window.

Sergeant Levy saluted his superior and was waved into a seat in front of the desk. Corporal Thomas remained standing by the door, listening as the disgruntled guard muttered about "that damn fool" who had knocked him over.

"You woke me from a sound sleep before reveille to come up here and see you staring out of a window, Ed," he said dryly. "I tripped over my boots a few times getting dressed on the run across the compound."

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