As we rounded the mall's eastern corner, the Whitesun Hotel finally came into view.
It was an impressive structure—a twenty-three story building that had probably been a mid-range business hotel before the outbreak. The exterior showed its age and abandonment through broken windows, stained concrete, and hanging debris, but the structural integrity appeared sound. No obvious signs of collapse or catastrophic damage.
"There's our new home," Rachel said quietly, staring up at the towering building.
"Assuming we can clear it," Christopher added pragmatically. "That's a lot of building to secure."
Martin's group had caught up with us now, and they too stood staring at the hotel that would hopefully become their permanent residence. I could see a range of emotions playing across different faces—excitement, fear, determination, exhaustion from the fighting we'd already done.
