The ruins had gone quiet again.
They moved through a block of collapsed apartments, windows staring down like sockets in a skull. The air carried the faint tang of ash and rust, and the stink of wet brick.
Reid set a slower pace, his injuries still making each step a calculated effort.
Kara stayed close to him, her spear balanced across her shoulders. Holt's eyes darted constantly, checking shadows, rooftops, and alley mouths.
Jonas brought up the rear, while Travis was just ahead of him, muttering about how cities always made him feel smaller than he liked to admit. His voice was low, trying to lighten the silence.
"Whole damn world ends," Travis whispered, "and skyscrapers still make me feel like a bug".
Jonas smirked. "That's because you are a bug," he laughed. "Just one that cooks badly."
Travis shoved his shoulder. "I'm telling you, if I ever get flour and eggs again, you'll beg me for pancakes."
Jonas chuckled, big and warm, the kind of laugh that cut through the ruins.
