The door slid open and the full sound of the facility poured in, the siren, the boots, voices somewhere down the left corridor barking instructions at each other. I turned right without hesitating. Head down, moving fast but not running because running in a facility under accelerated protocol made you a target and walking with direction and purpose made you staff.
Another thing I had taught recruits. Move like you belong until you don't have to anymore.
East corridor. Third junction.
I counted doors. The fever made the counting harder than it should have been, kept trying to blur the numbers, and I pressed my thumbnail into my palm and used the sharpness of it to stay focused. One junction. The amber lights threw everything in the same washed out colour and the air tasted like recycled
