Gear 1

"Once you've been with us for two years, you get one of these embarrassments and you have to be seen in public with them-"

He held up a gun with slide back and magazine removed, a bright red bike lock threaded through the bottom of the gun and out the top.

Jasper went on, "And you'll be expected to clean it as well as the gun you use on the range. You'll have to treat it like a real, loaded gun. That means you pretend it's loaded, you don't aim it at anything or anyone you wouldn't want to destroy, you never leave it unattended, and so on. We'll drill it into your skull and frankly, we're really hoping you make a mistake so we can kick you to the curb."

The other senior students were dressed in their uniforms now. Black clothes with some body armor worn over them, and the body armor was recognizable. In places, flakes of the letters and symbols that had once been stenciled onto the armor panels in white were still visible, having survived the steel wool and turpentine scrub. PRT issue, salvaged.

***

Belt. Holster. I threaded the belt through my belt loops, careful to position the holster.

*****

I bit my lip, thinking as I worked the combination of the safe at the topmost section of my locker. I pulled out the pistol and holstered it. I kept my hand there, reminding myself of the weapon's weight as I tried to figure out how to word my question, and if I wanted to ask it.

*****

I gathered the pistol magazines and slotted them into the pouch, before setting to attaching the pouch to my leg and belt.

*****

Armor. I pulled my vest from the bottom of the locker. I saved it for last because once it was on, I wouldn't be able to bend down or move as easily. The old name and number was still visible by the impression that had been made in the armor when it had been punched in and painted on. The steel-wool scrubbing I'd given it hadn't erased the whole impression.

- Daybreak 1.1-1.2