They arrived at their destination, which was only a mile or so south from the field turnout. The western sky was flashing up again like a neon billboard on the Vegas strip. The second wave of the storm system was going to crash hard on the countryside. Dylan had pulled the vehicle into the long driveway that led to the yellow building.
The same yellow building that Delilah had imagined as the home of a creepy serial killer.
He ran to the main gate and swung it open with his entire body. She gulped as he returned to the vehicle. He smiled at her as he saw her exasperated look.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"You never told me you lived in the creepiest place imaginable." she answered bluntly.
He gave her a look of surprise, "Why is this place creepy?"
She answered, "Let's see, barbed wire fence around the building, spot lights standing overhead, large swinging gate. It's looks like a bunkhouse at a concentration camp."
He snorted with laughter and she glared at him with eyes so piercing, yet so striking.
She screamed as she punched him on the shoulder, "It's not funny! How the fuck do I know that some serial killer doesn't live here?!"
He gave her a shit-eating grin, "That would imply that I'm a serial killer."
She rolled her eyes and made a horse noise, "I guess so, that is if you lived here."
His grin remained intact, "Of course I live here. I have lived here for a few months now."
She didn't believe him, or didn't want to believe him, "Why the hell would you live in a place like this?"
He knew they weren't going anywhere until she felt completely safe, "This is my uncle's shop and quote unquote extra house. He's an electrician and he works from here. Since he decided that he could trust me enough, he lets me live out here on my own as long as I followed his strict rules. I have done that to some degree, but since I turned eighteen and I am gainfully employed, he's been lenient with me as late."
Her fears weren't quelled enough for her to trust him. She just shook her head obstinately.
He heaved a long breath and said sagaciously, "This is interesting. Little Miss Daredevil can't bring herself to go into a scary-looking building."
She laughed angrily as if she was a hornet's nest that had been violently poked, "Nice try, jackass. See if you get any more at all."
He shrugged his shoulders, drove past the gate and parked the car near the rear of the building. He jumped out of the vehicle, opened the rear door and grabbed her rucksack off the seat. She watched his actions and became pissed at him all the more. She jumped out of the vehicle and tried to tackle him. He anticipated her action, so he backed himself against the wall by the door and threw the rucksack under his foot. She reached out to grab it but it would not budge.
"Let go, Dylan! Give me my bag back!" She hollered like an angry mother bear.
"Do you trust me?" He asked simply, waiting for her to make the correct answer.
She stood about two feet away from him and folded her arms in frustration. Heaving a great big sigh, "I don't know."
Dylan arched his eyebrows as the thunder cracks continued overhead, "Dee, you told me you love me and we made love on the back of my car. How can you say you don't trust me?"
The bluish glow from the sky illuminated her as she threw her arms up in the air in further aggravation. "I am having a bad vibe about this place."
He became more frustrated with her response, "You're the one who wandered into the meth house up the road to stay overnight. A place like that could explode if the wrong glass bottle breaks."
She winced, not wanting to admit he was right, "I know about those places, Dill. More than you can even fathom. I had a feeling the place would be safe for the time being."
He responded, "Have about you feel safe with me? It's safer inside than it is out here. I don't want us to be remembered as a pair of human lightning rods."
Dylan released his foot from her rucksack and put his key into the lock. He opened the door, went inside and extended the welcoming gesture. She sighed once more, picked up her rucksack and came inside. As the door closed behind her, another thunder crack occurred and the rain came down again.
He had flipped on the overhead light and it illuminated a short hallway that led to the main hallway about ten feet from the door. She was still standing by the door as he gave her a somber smile.
"Welcome to my humble home," he remarked with his arms extended wide open. "Follow me down the hall a bit."
She gulped as she noticed the ugly, jaundiced fibrous wallpaper than lined the wall of every room and hallway. The floors were covered with a steel gray carpeting, the kind one might find in the basement of a home in a nearby town. She left her rucksack by the door, turned to the left down the long hallway and noticed Dylan about ten yards away from her. On the left side of the hallway were four rooms, each a bedroom used primarily by cooking and security staff when the place was operational years before. The right side of the hallway had three rooms, also bedrooms used by visitors, the commanding officer and the female staff. She whistled at how ordinary, how devoid of life, how militaristic the structure felt to her.
"What is this place, Dylan?" she asked with a puzzled expression on her face.
"This is a missile alert facility, or an M-A-F as the boys in blue used to call it." he replied as if he was a tour guide at a museum.
