The radio lost Tessa halfway through the word west.
For a moment the little box continued making her voice, drawing the vowel into a thin metallic complaint. Then it clicked and went silent. Across the street, the pharmacy sign brightened until its painted green cross showed through the enamel, and every lamp on the lower block went out.
Tessa lowered the radio. She did not strike it or try the same instruction again. She looked toward the last deputy she could still see and raised her open hand above her head.
The woman on the corner answered with the yellow board.
“Hold the turn,” Tessa said to the runner beside her. “West route unconfirmed. Nobody sends a chair or a stretcher down it until the corner answers.”
The boy nodded too quickly.
“Tell it back.”
He did, slowing on the second sentence. Tessa sent him with a second runner carrying the transport list. They crossed behind the handcart instead of through the line of people leaving the facility district. Eli watched the yellow board travel from one corner to the next. The movement was absurdly slow beside the black shape swelling above the roofs, but each board meant someone had actually seen the street beyond it.
