The bunker door was made of metal, and thicker than the span
of Sparrow’s hand, even when she splayed her fingers out and stretched them as
far as they’d go. Inside they had more stairs to go down, thirty six steps that
she counted every time. Counted into herself, because a noisy line was not an
orderly line, and an orderly line was a safe line – and you had to be extra
‘specially safe on Drill Days. Sparrow didn’t know what you had to be on days
when you had a drill and it wasn’t a Drill Day, but she counted all the steps
just to be sure.