Two days had passed since they were separated from the others.
The building they'd taken shelter in rose higher than most around it, a tall structure with a wide internal staircase that cut through the center like a spine. Marcus and Roberto sat on the steps halfway up, far enough from the street to avoid attention, close enough to move if they had to. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them wasted energy. The city outside was quiet in the way only hostile places were, not empty, just waiting.
They had no information. No signals. No way of knowing how the others were doing.
Roberto, unlike Marcus, couldn't stay still. He dragged a thin stick back and forth against the dirt that had gathered on the stone steps, scratching idle lines into the surface, erasing them, then doing it again. It wasn't nervousness exactly, more like restlessness with nowhere to go.
Marcus watched him for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence.
"How do you think the others are doing?"
