They moved carefully, keeping close to cover, stepping around loose debris and broken glass instead of through it.
"Fuck," Marybeth breathed beside her as they stopped at the corner.
Iyisha leaned just enough to look.
The intersection ahead was packed.
Walkers filled the crossing, spread across the road, some standing still, others shifting in slow, uneven movements. In the middle of them, a twitcher stood out.
It stayed low, its body jerking in small, irregular twitches, like it couldn't stay still even when it wasn't moving forward. Its head snapped in short, sharp motions, reacting to every small sound.
Fuck was an understatement.
Malcolm, already at the front, raised two fingers, then pointed toward another corner across the street.
Aljun nodded.
They crouched and moved fast, crossing the short gap and dropping behind a line of abandoned cars.
