A scream tore the quiet of night, like a knife through satin. Tom bolted up
in the narrow bunk, breathing hard, ready to fight, or flee as the situation
demanded. His eyes strained in the darkness trying to see what was going on.
Silence. The tortured sound that had woken him was not repeated, and after a
few moments, Tom lay down, rubbing his forehead with one hand. One of the
inmates must have had a nightmare, he surmised, already drifting back to
He rolled to his left side eyes closed, and yawned quietly, his mind already
more than half immersed in slumber when the sudden blaring of an alert
klaxon, and the activation of the lights in his cell brought him to sudden
and complete wakefulness.
"Ah great!" he muttered, hauling himself up off the bunk and moving to stand
in the centre of the cell. "Terrific time to make a spot check!" He rubbed
his eyes, ran his hands through his blonde curls, and stood to attention,
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