The shockwave from the elevator blast hadn't even fully settled before panic took hold of the floor. The calm, elitist atmosphere vanished, replaced by frantic shouting and the clatter of heels against marble.
Men and women in designer suits and cocktail dresses scrambled for cover, some diving behind plush seating while others huddled near the glass viewing deck, as if the transparent barrier could somehow shield them from the chaos.
Donald crouched next to Hector, his phone gripped tightly in his hand, eyes darting across the screen. He muttered, "Shit!" before looking up at Don. "There's no signal in here. Like, at all."
That made Don frown. Without hesitation, he slipped his own phone from his pocket and checked. Nothing. Not even a flicker of service. Tori and Hector followed suit, each finding the same result: dead zones across the board.