Marcus Cole's body betrays him daily. Certain sounds make him vomit, shake, collapse. The doctors call it misophonia. Marcus calls it a curse.

Then the ground opens beneath the city. A sinkhole swallows a street. No warning. No pattern. But Marcus felt it coming—twenty seconds before it hit. The low rumble that made his body sick was the same frequency that broke the earth.

Now he can hear the next one building. And the one after that.

The city has three hours. The hospital has four hundred people. And no one believes a man who flinches at nothing.