Darkness swallowed them. The only sound was the four of them breathing, ragged and fast. "We’re alive," Timmy whispered.

Ted looked at the meager pile of supplies in the corner. Four cans of soup. A radio. A mask. One bottle of water. He looked at his family. He had saved them from the fire, but now the real game of survival—the long, hungry wait in the dark—had just begun.

The air-raid siren didn't just scream; it tore through the morning silence like a jagged blade. Ted had exactly before the world turned into a microwave.