"It's always in the crawlspace," Wrath says grimly. That's just how these things work. Whatever they need, it's going to be in the smallest, grossest, worst place possible. But just in case they've gotten lucky, they can't really skip everything else.

But she certainly doesn't move through the area like someone who expects the danger is limited to the worst possible place. She heads carefully to the first of the cargo containers, pausing by the door. She glances at Saturday, waiting for the nod, then opens the container's door with her crowbar.