The radio crackled.
Static.
A sharp pop, then nothing again.
I twisted the dial for the fifth time, jaw tight, eyes flicking to the empty road ahead. Every frequency bled into the same thing— white noise, distant sobbing, screams caught mid-syllable.
"…please— please if anyone's listening—"
I turned it again.
Silence.
Then—
A voice cut through.
"—This is Mayor Jonathan Locke of Chicago."
Everyone in the vehicle froze.
The man didn't sound frantic. He didn't sound afraid.
He sounded… tired.
"If you're hearing this, then you've already realized the truth," the mayor continued. "Order is gone. The federal government is gone. And I never cared what the president thought anyway."
A pause.
I could hear slow, measured breathing— like he'd been trying to figure out the words.
"We tried restraint. We tried evacuation. We tried pretending the people of this city was worth saving in its entirety."
Another pause.
"They aren't."
My stomach dropped.
