The wind could be heard howling down the streets as various bits of litter and dried leaves scraped across the brick buildings and asphalt roads during the otherwise silent night. On occasion the sound of something guttural would howl across the city, and only tighten the paranoid grip on the city. The blockades stood strong as ever. Snipers, tanks, guards with automatic rifles, the works. Most buildings were boarded up, or abandoned. Shops with smashed windows and looted shelves were a common sight. But most houses were still intact, yet usually barricaded in some way, and the sound of radio stations relaying news or music could faintly be heard. The night was quiet. And the silence was deafening. 

Monica sat in the abandoned building, waiting for the other three to return. They usually were back by now, and Monica was beginning to worry. She had mostly stayed indoors, and hadn't seen anybody else besides her co-workers. Her main job was to keep track of supplies, ammunition, and anything else they might find. Monica sat behind a shelf near the entrance, a tight grip on a knife they had found, listening for anything. Footsteps, growls, scraping sounds, chanting, anything. After a few tense moments, Monica went to the radio, and listened for any new information. Nothing. All there was, was the same old news. Board up your doors. Apologies for the situations, and the same music stations, playing music like this wasn't happening. Then again, to them it wasn't. It was just a regular day for them, while the residents of Champaign lived in constant terror. After a few brief moments with the radio, Monica walked back to he position behind the shelf, listening once more.