The sun had finally surrendered to the horizon. Through the grimy windows of Jackson Township's municipal building, the last traces of daylight flickered and died, leaving only the warm glow of scattered candles to push back the darkness.
It was dinnertime.
The aroma of cooking food drifted through the corridors. In what used to be the town clerk's office, three camping stoves and an assortment of hot plates hummed quietly, powered by the precious fuel from their emergency generator. The community had learned to be strategic about electricity—cooking was essential, everything else could wait for daylight.
Rachel wiped her hands on a dish towel, surveying the modest feast she'd prepared on one of the portable burners. Two eggs, perfectly golden, nestled beside crispy potato rounds that she'd seasoned with some oregano.
