We all stood outside the cars in the plain dark.
The night had settled fully now, deep and absolute, the kind of darkness that makes the stars feel close enough to touch. Moonlight washed over the sand in cold silver, turning every grain into a tiny mirror. The Fallen City loomed a short distance away, a jagged black silhouette against the starry sky, its broken towers like the ribs of some ancient beast left to rot under the moon. The air was cool, almost cold, carrying the faint, dry scent of dust and distant decay.
The keys were somewhere in there. Somewhere along the route we had already walked twice, in a building crawling with hundreds of infected and three floors of debris and collapsed ceilings.
"Options," Sinn said, his voice low and gravelly. "One car or go back for the keys."
"One car could work," May said, arms crossed, her blonde hair catching the moonlight like pale fire. "But ten people and two infected in that space is a calculation I don't love."
