The first person out of the shelter carried a cat in a blue plastic box.
Sera held the side door while the resident stepped onto the ramp. Kellan steadied the carry chair behind her, keeping its front wheels clear of a crack in the landing. Iri, the convoy guard, supported the resident’s shoulders while a shelter worker guided the chair down.
“Where do we go?” the woman with the cat asked.
“West Commons for now,” the shelter worker said. “The volunteer at the corner has the transport list.”
“Is the building coming down?”
“We don’t know. The reading beneath it is rising, so we’re moving people as a precaution.”
The woman accepted that answer only after checking that her cat’s box was securely latched. She carried it with both hands to the waiting van.
Inside, the lower hall creaked. Kellan marked the crack at the edge of the stair landing with chalk and placed a chair across the route. The shelter worker moved the chair when someone needed to pass, then returned it so no one would use the stairs by habit.
