Deathwalker 5.6

            Sitting up, I slid off the bunk and took stock of myself. I’d been tired enough to sleep in my clothes. Grimacing, I added that to the list of things not to tell my aunt. Quickly, I pulled them off and switched to casual shipwear. Clean or not, I couldn’t go out looking like a station sleeper. I’d made a bad enough impression already.
            As soon as I looked decent, I grabbed my travel kit and headed out the door. I’d seen the boltscan last night and stopped to press a finger to the panel. The mechanical snick of the lock sounded an instant later. The next instant, I was headed down the hall. There was no point in wondering if it allowed multiple access. If it did, I’d find out soon enough. And everything I had of value was in the kit. Or in me. My eyes flicked to my hands then back to the hall.
            I had only passed a handful of doors when I began to feel a strange tingle in the back of my mind. Startled, I stumbled then walked on slowly, assessing as I went. It didn’t hurt: it was almost more of an itching feeling. It was like the feeling of being watched, but at the same time, something about it reminded me of walking through a graveyard.


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