23 The corpses broke his fall; he landed on top of several with a painful slap, face down, then slid through the gaps between them until he hit the gore-covered road below. Winded from the drop, his throat on fire, and his brain still playing catch-up, Omar lay curled up like a baby in a layer of semi-congealed remains. It swished and sloshed around him as dead feet shuffled; unable to ever get anywhere, but never stopping still. Occasionally there were more volatile waves of movement as individual cadavers collapsed under the pressure of others and were replaced by those pushing forward from behind. It was awful dark down here. The hole he’d punched through the corpses had immediately resealed above him, and it was unexpectedly quiet, too. The only noise was the irregular trickling of li

