He situated himself in the center of the room. He didn’t trust the walls.
Keep moving. He slapped himself hard across the face. It was impossible to keep his eyes open. He hadn’t slept in three days. Keep moving. North wall. West wall. South wall east wall. He’d turn to face them, wait a second or two, then make a quarter turn. If he fell asleep, or stood facing one direction too long, the walls would get him. Like they got Rhea.
North wall. He wasn’t going to end up like her. West wall. Her insistence that she could sit for a second. South wall. Her head nodding down onto her chest. East wall. The sound of the wall sliding open, it coming, taking her, her scream —
Keep moving. He slapped himself again. He turned through the walls one more time.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he let the walls take him. Who was left anyway? Out there. Anywhere. Maybe if he just sat down, closed his eyes, whatever it was would take him before it hurt.
Keep moving. The urge to live was stronger than the urge to sleep.
Keep moving. Keep moving.
There was a knock on the door.