The sensation of being watched didn't fade as we continued forward through the residential blocks—if anything, it intensified with each step we took deeper into Atlantic City's silent streets. My enhanced senses remained on high alert, that prickling awareness crawling across my skin like static electricity, but I couldn't pinpoint the source no matter how carefully I scanned our surroundings. It couldn't be helped since Dullahan seemed to prioritised the Infected's presence.
I chose not to mention the persistent sensation again. Brad had already dismissed my initial warning as paranoid imagination, and bringing it up repeatedly would only feed into his narrative that I was unstable or attention-seeking. Better to maintain vigilance privately while keeping the group focused on forward progress rather than creating additional tension over threats I couldn't prove existed.
