Sarah stood by the door, shotgun held ready against her shoulder, and glanced over her shoulder at me. I raised a hand, extended two fingers, and pointed at the door. She nodded, then turned, raising a foot and slamming it into the door near the handle. It bounced, shook violently, then collapsed inward, even as Sarah raised her shotgun to a ready position. She stepped inside the room, sweeping the barrel across the interior.
I stepped up, raised my AR, and slide through the door. Stepping to the side and covering the room, I watched as Sarah moved to the next door. She stopped, put her hand to it, and frowned. It was a heavy metal d