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“We noticed,” Joanie mutters.

Lyla shoots her a look.

Carlos ignores that too. “Everybody hit the gas stations first. Garages. Tow yards. Delivery trucks. After that, people who knew what they were doing started clearing the rest.”

“What people?” Lyla asks.

Carlos’s mouth tightens.

The fire pops.

He looks at Luis, then away. “People you don’t want to meet.”

The words settle over the clearing like ash.

Trish’s expression goes flat. “That sounds like something said by someone who has met them.”

Carlos doesn’t answer.

Not tonight, then.

Fine.

Tonight, we get the map. Tomorrow, we get the rest.

Carlos taps a spot south of the route we took. “We have a stash here. Old print shop. Basement access through the back. Food, some ammo, batteries, medicine. Maybe a little fuel, but not enough for all your vehicles.”

The maybe hits everyone at once.

A reason to risk another day.

Jacob crouches closer. “What’s between here and there?”

Carlos’s mouth tightens. “Dead. Barricades. A couple bad streets.”

“Like the Bell?” Lyla asks.

Carlos nods. “If things go wrong, yeah.”

Earl marks the print shop with a hard circle. “Then we work around from the west. Need eyes on these intersections before committing.”

Plans start forming, rough at first, then sharper. Paths. Entry points. Exit routes. Safer ways in and out, or as close as we’re going to get.

Lyla wants elevated sightlines. Trish wants a hard limit on how long we’re in there. Carlos says some alleys are passable if we move on foot. Earl argues with him over a street name for three minutes until Luis quietly confirms Carlos is right.

Earl grunts and corrects the map again.

Highest compliment the man can give.

By the time Barbara shows Carlos and Luis where they can sleep, Luis’s shoulders have dropped a little. He even takes a second serving when Edith shoves the pot toward him and tells him he looks like a broomstick in a hoodie.

Carlos watches every bite like he expects us to ask for payment later.

We don’t.

When the boys are out of earshot, Jacob steps up beside me.

Lyla follows, quiet as a blade.