The knock on the door cut through the stillness of the room like a sharp blade. Derek's eyes snapped open. His pulse was still too fast, the remnants of his dream clinging to him like a second skin.
He blinked, unsure if he was still tangled in that half-waking state, but his mind quickly cleared. He pushed himself off the cot, the heaviness in his limbs betraying just how long he'd been running on adrenaline. Each step he took echoed the weight he was still carrying.
When he opened the door, his eyes instinctively scanned the hallway. It took a moment for his brain to process what he was seeing. A soldier stood there, looking uncomfortable, but trying to keep his posture in check.
"Uh, sir," the soldier began, glancing past him into the room, "You've got company."
Derek froze. Sir?
For a split second, he looked over his shoulder as if to confirm that the soldier was addressing him. But there was no one else. No one was more qualified to be "sir" in this sorry excuse for a room.
