First Strike

My joints clicked. I was standing stiff on the cold floor, staring right at a sealed white door. Nobody tells me to stay frozen. I snapped my right fist shut and took one hard step forward. My knuckles tapped against the door's lower baseboard with a sharp, solid knock. It held firm, but I felt the impact vibrate all the way up my arm. Good. I can move, I can hit, and this perimeter is mine to patrol.