"We're being watched," Holt said under his breath. "There's no glass shine, no reflection, but I think we're being watched".
They adjusted without making it a conversation.
When they resumed walking, Reid bled a little Rift Energy and let his world slow on a pulse every time they turned a corner.
Jonas drifted to the back, the kind of rear guard that could pick a car up and throw it if needed. Mira nursed the wind into a long, slow curl around them to keep sound from traveling far.
As afternoon faded, they found a grocery store.
It looked like what had once been a neighborhood anchor, a squat rectangle with cheerful murals on cinderblock walls. Now the murals were smoke-stained, the automatic doors fused into a half-open yawn.
Glass and ash dusted the entry. Inside, shelves lay on their sides like toppled gravestones. But someone had been here, and recently.
