Ingrid stepped down off the cart.
She moved around through the infected, threading between bodies that were shaking themselves into a frenzy, and came round to my side. She stopped beside my cage and looked forward at something I couldn't see from in here.
Max. She's watching Max.
The infected were not moving from their positions, but the noise coming off them and the tremor running through the whole mass said everything about what they'd been brought here for.
Then they began stamping.
A thousand feet coming down on asphalt at once, and I knew the sound of that ground under my own boots. I'd crossed it every morning for days. Come through those doors, past Pauline at reception, up to the fourth floor.
And tonight I'm arriving in a cage.
Ingrid raised her right hand.
The noise died.
