Grace listened carefully, noting locations and the men's mention of HQ. 

Anna had already scampered up onto the first man's horse. She looked white knuckled as she gripped onto the beast for dear life. She felt a pang of guilt, and a quick read of these men looked on the level. However, she refused to leave Anna in a camp that may or may not be on the level. She heard the chatter about a horde over the walkies, her jaw tightening at the mention of that number of infected. Thankfully the scarf she kept around her lower face kept the obvious notes of her anxiety concealed. 

"I'll tag along, I keep my weapons. Any area with the white wings means I've got traps rigged up, I'll point out if we're close." She muttered briskly, before taking the man's arm and getting up on the horse. She felt a little uneasy, but if there was any truth to the rumors of that many infected. She had a chance to fight, and maybe finally, end."

Grace, the Saint, was tired. Yet she felt somehow it was a disservice to her fiance and those who fell fighting to simply let it end. She's go out, in a barrel of gunfire and vengeance before that would happen. Till then, there were lives that needed saving. 

The Saint still had work to do...

Anna looked towards Grace nervously, as the riders made for HQ.