Following his instincts—believing in his gut feelings—was one of those things. Right now his sixth sense was kicking in strong. It had been for the entire last leg of the trip home. He couldn’t put his finger on what had him antsy and agitated. He also couldn’t ignore it any longer. The moment the transport hit the tarmac he had his cell out. Powering it on, Mack stared at the screen, waiting for it to come to life. What he was looking for he couldn’t imagine, but he’d know it when he found it. Finally, the phone connected him to the outside world, something he hadn’t been able to do during the past couple of weeks. Nothing came up immediately. No texts. No phone messages. There wasn’t a whole lot he could do right now anyway. Mack didn’t have time to investigate further at the moment. He had to unload from the transport, grab his bags, check in and stow his shit—all before he could leave. The quicker he got it all done, the sooner he could satisfy this feeling of unrest.
