The breach was exactly where the survivor had said it would be. A section of the chain-link fence had collapsed, buried under a dune that had shifted during the last sandstorm. The metal was rusted, brittle. The sensors mounted on the posts were dark. Dead eyes.
Ezra crawled through the gap first. He pressed his belly against the hot sand. He scanned the ground beyond. Concrete. Cracked. Weeds growing through the fissures. No movement.
"Clear," he whispered.
Tomas followed. He moved low, rifle tucked tight against his shoulder. Mara came last. She didn't crawl. She walked through the gap, her head high. The wind caught her hair. It flowed like water.
"Keep down," Ezra hissed.
"They can't see me," Mara said. She looked at the security cameras mounted on the warehouse walls. Their lense
