Mike had been taken by one of the Bridge’s snatch crews. It made so much sense Alice cursed herself for not realizing sooner. She hunkered down and opened her mouth to hear better, a tactic learned during Marines basic training. There was her whistling wartime tinnitus—such a part of life she didn’t notice it unless she was paying attention—and behind that the faint clamor of people. Voices talking and shouting; animal calls, birds, cows; the grinding of heavy machinery, gritted cogs sucking and pulping.