"Lot of unbalanced folk around here," Brimston says, no malice in the words, only detached observation. "Comes of havin' memories put in your head that don't make no sense. And hearin' things..."

Her ears pick up the faint scuffle of movement from down the corridor that she'd come. "Got a feelin' we ain't alone." She turns in the direction of the sound, rifle at the ready to follow it. It's a pointless endeavor, she knows, but she can't not go after it. There's someone watching. Whether they're real or not, she can feel it."