Ground level was worse than the roof. The press of people multiplied into a faceless mass. A four-man security team cleared a path for Alice, Xavi, and the warden, but the sheer quantity of people made Alice feel as if she were in a submarine—steel walls smothering, no way out. Everyone was emaciated, skeletons wrapped in skin; their rations designed for a stay of a few days, not months. The roar of voices and machinery was deafening, a thunderous clamor that made communication impossible, so Alice kept moving and pushed forward.