At the end of the line, or I should say the front, there is, that is if they have not changed it, a bullet proof glass window criss-crossed with chain link and scratched to a dull fog, diffusing what little light is on the other side.

At the end of the line, or I should say the front, there is, that is if they have not changed it, a bullet proof glass window criss-crossed with chain link and scratched to a dull fog, diffusing what little light is on the other side. A mottled form, dimly lit, shuffles slowly on the other side.