"There's some offices here, too. We're gonna wanna circle back and hit them before we go into the undercarriage." Where the danger, if any, is almost certain to be. People are predictable, and monsters even more so.

Saturday scans the pile, taking count the way her father taught her. How big's the space, how big is what you're counting, divide and count it up. If asked, she would say indignitly that it's not math, she's terrible at math, it's just looking properly.

It is, however, totally math.

"...man, I hope they're not all packed full." The number is an alarming one, if they are. She shares it.

"Head up. I got your six."