They crane their necks as they scour the massive lobby for a map. Heavy layers of black mold sprawl across the cathedral ceiling windows, interrupted by the occasional beam of light streaming through its broken glass. Rows of suspicious murmuring pigeons perched along the ceiling’s high ledges glare down upon them through the crisscrossing of vines. Lucas and Maia carefully maneuver around another rusted grocery cart tipped on its side.
“Careful around these escalators.” Lucas’s whispers echo across the lobby. “Lots of broken glass around the railings.”
“Escalators?” Maia whispers back.