The moving current reached the bottom of the stairwell and stopped.
Sera kept her eyes on the warehouse wall. She could not see through it. The sensation came from the direction of the stairs, a pressure shifting among other pressures: powered equipment, markers on stored goods, perhaps the gate residue that had brought the quarantine team here. She marked the point on Kellan’s plan.
“It’s there,” she said. “I can’t identify it.”
Eli followed her pencil. “Is it blocking the stairs?”
“It may be. The current is close to them. The wall keeps me from placing it more precisely.”
Calder had returned with an entry log. He opened it on the bonnet of the car. Three names were written beneath a time and an assignment number. Nessa, Tomas and Garin. A fourth line carried a worker’s initials and a different time, but the departure box was blank.
Sal, the packing worker, leaned over the page. “That’s my supervisor. He went home yesterday. They forgot to mark it.”
“Can you confirm?” Tessa asked.
“I can call the shift office.”
She did. After a brief conversation, she marked the name on a separate note and gave Tessa the number of the person who had checked the shift record. Calder did not alter the original log. The team still needed confirmation from upstairs, but they had three names to work with rather than a guess.
“What briefing did they receive?” Eli asked.
Calder turned the log over. “The quarantine notice was posted this morning.”
“Before or after they entered?”
“I don’t have the posting time.”
“You said they entered after the order.”
“I was told they did.” Calder’s radio crackled. He raised it, listened and shook his head. “The office can’t find the briefing sheet yet.”
A flash came from the window. Sera raised Sal’s lamp and signaled back. The woman upstairs opened the window enough to call down.
“Tomas is hurt. Garin can’t get up.”
“How many of you?” Tessa shouted.
“Three!”
“Can you reach either stairwell?”
“West door’s blocked. Something’s on the east stairs.”
The current beneath the stairs shifted. Sera felt it move toward the wall and then back. The woman at the window ducked as a heavy blow struck somewhere behind her. The glass rattled.
“Stay away from the window edge,” Kellan shouted. “We’re looking for another route.”
The woman disappeared. Eli started toward the gate. Calder moved in front of him.
“Don’t cross the barrier.”
“There’s someone injured up there.”
“And I have a quarantine order.”
“Then open the side entrance for the response team.”
“They’ll have a key.”
“When they arrive.”
Tessa stepped between them before the argument became a struggle. “Calder, where can the ambulance park?”
“I showed you the lane.”
“We need it kept clear. Your own employees might need it too.”
He looked at the trucks. One had stopped partly across the lane while its driver waited for instructions. Calder spoke into his radio and sent the truck around the block. The driver objected until Calder repeated the order. The lane cleared.
Tessa chose a place behind the barrier where the pavement was sheltered from falling glass. She opened her bag, laid out gloves and dressings, and asked Sal to hold a clean cloth over her scraped palm. The packing worker wanted to help. Tessa gave her a task that kept her outside the danger area: watch the ambulance lane and tell the dispatcher if a vehicle blocked it.
“Call me if Garin comes out,” Sal said.
“I will. Stay where I can see you.”
Leah answered Tessa’s next call from the clinic. Ruth had taken over the front desk so Leah could remain available. Tessa gave her the three names from the log and explained that the team was still outside.
“Do you want me to call for another response crew?” Leah asked.
“Please call the dispatcher back if we miss the next check-in. Tell them what we’ve confirmed and ask for an update on the team already sent.”
“What time?”
“Ten minutes.”
Leah repeated the time. Tessa heard the scratch of her pencil over the phone. It was a familiar sound from the appointment book, but the list Leah was writing now had a warehouse address and an ambulance lane instead of patient times.
Kellan walked the exterior with the building plan. The west side was blocked by pallets and a locked storage cage. The east side had the narrow exit Sal had used, but the corridor beyond led toward the stairwell where Sera sensed movement. A loading crane stood beneath the upper window, its platform lowered to the yard.
He examined it from the public side of the barrier. “If the platform works, it might reach the window.”
“Can it carry a person?” Eli asked.
“It has a load plate. I need to inspect the rigging and the attachment points. I can’t do that from here.”
Calder heard him. “The crane belongs to a contractor. It’s not registered for passenger use.”
“Is there a rescue platform attachment?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then ask the contractor.”
Calder called the office again. This time a worker answered and promised to bring the crane manual. The manager kept one hand on the barrier tape as though he could hold the whole building back with it.
Sera moved toward the side entrance, staying on the public pavement. The current became stronger. It moved slowly, paused and moved again. She could feel at least one other source behind it, but the signals overlapped so closely she could not separate their shapes.
“It’s near the door,” she said.
Sal pulled back from the ambulance lane. Eli approached the door with his hand on the rope. A scuff sounded on the other side, followed by a dull scrape. The bar inside shifted in its brackets.
“Back,” Kellan said.
Eli stepped away. The door bowed outward and settled. Something struck it again, lower down. A strip of rust fell from the frame.
Calder reached for his radio. “East exit is being forced. Keep the yard clear.”
A worker emerged from behind a truck. “I need my tools.”
“Leave them.”
“They’re in the cage next to the crane.”
“Leave them until we know what’s at the door.”
The worker hesitated, then retreated. The door held through another blow. Eli used Weak-Point Sight and saw a bright line at the lower hinge, but the sight did not tell him what was pushing or how many blows remained before the metal failed. He pointed out the hinge to Kellan.
Kellan checked from a distance. “The frame’s pulling away from the wall. We need a barrier that won’t funnel people toward the ambulance lane.”
Calder directed two workers to move a wheeled steel rack across the opening, stopping well short of the door. They positioned the rack close enough for the bowed door to strike it, then anchored it to a fixed rail with straps from the warehouse. Kellan checked their knots, then moved the rack slightly so the workers could retreat without crossing the door’s path.
The next blow struck while they were still fastening the final strap. The rack shook but held. Sal flinched. Sera tracked the current as it moved away from the door and back toward the stairs.
“It’s receding,” she said. “At least the source I can feel.”
Eli wanted to follow it inside. If the thing at the door had moved away, perhaps the lower corridor was briefly open. But Sera’s signal covered only part of what lay beyond the wall, and the rack had just kept a weakened door from opening onto the street.
Tessa finished preparing the treatment point. She used the empty supply cart as a screen, positioned it behind the protected wall and laid out a clean sheet. It was a poor substitute for a stretcher. She asked Calder whether the warehouse had a narrow rescue stretcher or a rigid board.
“There should be one in the loading cage,” he said.
“Can we inspect it?”
“The cage is inside the barrier.”
“Can you bring it out?”
He looked toward the side door, where the rack continued to vibrate slightly. “I’ll send someone when we know the corridor is secure.”
A warehouse worker brought a second length of webbing to secure the rack. Kellan checked the anchor point before helping him tighten it. The first attempt pulled the strap against a sharp corner, so they moved it to the rounded rail and protected the edge with a folded cloth. Neither man went within reach of the damaged door.
The woman at the window flashed the lamp again. One long signal, then three short. Sal waved her arms to show they had seen it. The window opened.
“Garin’s getting worse!” the woman shouted. “He can’t stay awake.”
“What happened to him?” Tessa called.
“Something hit him. He’s breathing, but—” The rest was lost as she turned away.
Tessa checked the time. Six minutes had passed since she called Leah. The response team had not arrived. She called the dispatcher again and gave the new information. A vehicle was en route from another incident. The dispatcher could not provide an exact arrival time.
Eli took the floor plan and studied the crane. “If I can reach the window, I can secure a rope.”
“After the rigging is checked,” Kellan said.
“The fastest way to check it is to go through the yard.”
“Then we agree who goes, where they stand and what makes them stop.”
Calder’s worker returned with the manual. It showed the crane’s rated loads and a platform attachment, but the page describing passenger lifting had a warning about an additional certified rig. Kellan read it and asked to see the actual equipment. Calder said the rig might be in the cage.
Sal’s coworker, a man in a hard hat, came running from the far end of the yard. He had a ring of keys and a fluorescent vest pulled over one shoulder. Calder waved him back before he reached the barrier.
“My sister’s in there,” the man said. “Nessa. She called me before she went up.”
“Did she say what they were sent to do?” Eli asked.
“Check the upper store after an alarm. She said the gate crew had cleared the lower route.” He held out his phone. The message showed a time and a single line: Going upstairs. Back before lunch.
“Did she mention the threat rating?”
“No. I asked if she needed help and she told me to stay at my shift.” His eyes went to the window. “She always says that.”
Kellan asked whether he knew how the crane was operated. The man shook his head. He worked for a cleaning contractor, not the loading crew, but he knew where the platform attachment was normally stored. He pointed to a cage near the side of the building.
“It’s locked because people kept taking the chains,” he said. “The night supervisor has the key.”
Calder checked his key ring. One tag bore the cage number. “I have it.”
The man took a step toward the gate. “Then open it.”
“We’re checking the route.”
“My sister’s waiting while you check.”
“So is Garin,” Sal said. Her voice shook, but she stayed beside the ambulance lane. “If you run in and get hurt, Nessa will try to reach you too.”
The man stopped. He did not look convinced. Tessa asked him to stay with Sal and tell her if he heard from Nessa again. Giving him the task did not make the wait easier, but it kept him close enough for Tessa to see when his phone lit up. It remained dark.
The side door struck the rack again. The sound silenced the group. Sera closed her eyes and tracked the pressure toward the crane’s side of the building. It shifted, then blended into the background.
“I’ve lost it,” she said. “That doesn’t mean it left.”
Eli looked at the lower rating on the collection confirmation, then at the higher notice fixed to the fence. Kellan had been right to ask what they were equipped to face. Their cart and straps could move boxes; they could not hold a stairwell door against an unknown force or guarantee a crane would lift a person safely.
Above them, the lamp flashed once more. Tessa raised her own light in answer. The response team was coming, but the window remained occupied and Garin’s condition was worsening. The team had to decide what could be done in the time before help arrived, using only the route and equipment they could verify.