I don't know how long I ended up spending in the shower, the hot water cascading down my stiff shoulders, washing away the last few days of grime, blood and worries.
For those few minutes, however long they were, it was like nothing mattered anymore. The only thing I could focus on was how relaxed I had finally felt. I'd ignored the stinging it caused some of the smaller cuts I had and watched the murky water swirl around the drain before sinking out of sight.
Now, I was sitting on the bed, my wet hair dripping onto the back of my neck, soaking the collar of the fresh uniform I'd put on. Reality was coming back to me as I stared at the two packs I'd been carrying and the gun I'd not let go of since I first picked it up. They sat on the blindingly white desk, looking so out of place, just as we must have when we had all walked through the hallways of the base. 
I crossed the few steps it took to reach the desk from the desk and grabbed the gun. Without a second thought, I tucked it into the waistband of my pants. 
Collecting the pile of old clothing I'd discarded as I entered the bathroom, I thought for a moment, did I even want to wash it? The urge to throw it into an incinerator was one that I seriously considered before shaking my head and tucking it under my arm. 
I left the small tidy room and looked up and down the hallway. How was I supposed to find my room again? Every door looked the same.
Even if someone did try to break into this base, they wouldn't get very far, even I couldn't remember which way we'd come to get here.