The air in the radio station was thick—no mist, no smoke, just pressure. The kind that made your ears buzz and your thoughts crawl.
Everyone was awake. No one spoke loudly. Leo clung to Zara's hip, head buried against her collarbone. She rubbed small, slow circles into his back like she could anchor him to something safer than this.
Winter stood at the window, his eyes locked on the line of matte-painted trucks just beyond the treeline. Clean vehicles. No rust. Tires barely worn. And the men—
Zara didn't need to see them clearly to know they weren't scavengers.
"This is Captain Elias Rivas of the Coalition Forces," came a voice over loudspeaker, booming from the largest truck like a hammer dropped on glass. "You are inside a restricted perimeter. All civilians are to exit the building with their hands visible. Comply immediately or force will be used."
The air turned brittle. No one moved.
