Lauren looked in and pulled a face.  Nothing of any value.  She checked the medical kit and set it in the bottom of the locker.  Glancing at the medals, she didn't even want to know who they had belonged to.  She flipped over a helmet, hoping it hid something.  Nada.<br/><br/>Great.  Ruined a perfectly good bra for nothing.<br/><br/>The knife would only be of use to her if they needed to cut something.  Anyone so close to her that she could stab with said knife might be able to disarm her and use it on her...being that they were so close.<br/><br/>She stood on tip toe and felt around on the top shelf, feeling something papery.  She pulled down a file and read the lone item.<br/><br/>"Jesus Fucking Christ," she muttered over the atrocious grammar.  The gist of the message wasn't any great surprise, if you could read between the redacted lines.  Those who had, kept it.  Those who didn't got fucked over.<br/><br/>She turned to Red and handed him the file.  "No food. A big knife and a medical kit, and a funky helmet.  But, there is this file: What's your take?"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats and Inventory</div><div class="spoiler_body">Inventory<br/>Handgun 5/9 rounds<br/>Hamlet<br/>Underwire bra.  (stretchy lace, wires, hooks, eyes...)<br/>Mechanical Pencil (clipless)<br/>MP3 Player loaded with the best music.<br/><br/>HP: 147/147<br/>Stamina:  182/182<br/>Feeling: Better. </div></div>