The first carrier team went to the wrong road.
They had followed an emergency message that named the access gate but not which side of the trial grounds it meant. By the time Kellan reached the junction, two vehicles were facing each other in a lane too narrow to turn, and people leaving the public waiting area were trying to squeeze between them.
“Stop bringing more vehicles through,” he called.
A driver shouted that he was following central instructions. Kellan pointed to the people beside his front wheel.
“You can’t follow them through someone.”
The driver braked. Kellan kept his injured wrist clear and used his other hand to guide a pedestrian group toward the open pavement. He did not stand in front of a vehicle he could not physically stop. Sera moved to a visible corner and called the safe lane direction so the people behind him could hear something other than competing engines.
Tessa reached the medical receiving point on foot. It had a sign, two foldable tables and no confirmed list of which clinic could take which patients. A volunteer was writing names as people arrived, but the transport driver wanted a destination now.
“Who is the clinical lead here?” Tessa asked.
