The frayed cable still lay across the crane guide where Eli and Kellan had found it.
A dozen strands had separated where the steel bent over a guide. The rest remained twisted together; the folded platform rested on the ground. Eli’s sight traced a bright line through the frayed section, but he did not need the ability to see the loose wires once he brought his lamp close.
“Kellan,” he said.
Kellan came around the crane and crouched beside him. He did not touch the cable. “The platform stays on the ground while we isolate the drum.”
The manager, Calder, stood inside the open loading cage with the key to its locked inner cable compartment in his hand. “It passed inspection.”
“When?” Kellan asked.
“Last week.”
“Was the cable unwound then?”
“I don’t have the report here.”
A light flashed from the upper window: two short bursts, a pause, then another. The trapped hunter’s signal had become uneven. Tessa stood beside the narrow stretcher, its straps already adjusted for the opening. She looked up at the window and then at the crane.
“How long to replace it?” she asked.
“Depends on what cable they have and whether the fittings match,” Kellan said. “We aren’t lifting anyone on this.”
Calder opened his mouth. Kellan pointed to the separated strands.
“If the cable breaks with a person on the platform, we drop them. I can explain the mechanics while we work, or we can use the time to find a replacement.”
Calder looked toward the locked inner compartment of the open loading cage. “They belong to another contractor.”
“Then call them,” Tessa said.
“Their equipment isn’t mine to release.”
“Someone upstairs needs treatment. Record the condition of the cage and what we take. I’ll witness it. You can settle payment afterward.”
Calder hesitated. Another flash came from the window. This time a voice followed it, too faint to make out over the traffic beyond the barriers.
Sera stood near the corner of the loading yard, one hand raised. “Movement under the stairs. It’s closer to the controls than it was.”
“Can you tell what it is?” Eli asked.
“No. The signals overlap near the wall. It moved, then stopped.”
Kellan pointed to the platform. “Eli, help me secure the drum. Calder, the compartment.”
The manager crossed to the inner lock. He hesitated, then used the key to open the compartment. Inside were coils of cable, slings, hooks, and two empty tool cases. Calder photographed the shelves before touching them. Tessa stood beside him while he read the labels aloud.
Kellan secured the drum while Eli kept his hands clear of the cable. The folded platform remained on the pavement; no one had ridden it.
The first replacement spool looked clean and heavy. Kellan checked its tag and shook his head.
“No load rating. We don’t know whether it matches the crane.”
Calder pointed to the thickness. “It’s the same diameter.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“The contractor uses it here.”
“For what?”
Calder did not know. Kellan set the spool aside without cutting its seal. The second had a legible rating and a manufacturer’s mark. Kellan compared both with the crane plate, then checked the ends for damage.
“This one matches,” he said. “We need the correct fittings too.”
Eli found a box of fittings on the lower shelf. Kellan checked the size and rejected the first two. The third seated properly in the guide. Calder wrote the spool number and the fittings on a sheet of paper. Tessa signed as a witness to what had been removed, not as an agreement to pay for damage or use.
Another signal flashed above them. Eli looked up. A face appeared behind the glass, then vanished.
“Can you hear me?” he called.
A hand opened the window a few inches. “Nessa, Tomas, Garin!” a voice shouted. “Garin is barely breathing!”
Tessa moved beneath the window but stayed clear of the fall zone. “Are they breathing?”
“Yes. The other one’s hurt too. We can’t reach the stairs.”
“Keep them away from the window until we tell you it’s ready. Is there bleeding?”
The answer was lost as the window swung shut. Sera held up her hand again.
“The source moved. It’s near the inside wall by the controls.”
Calder backed away from the crane. “There shouldn’t be anything there.”
“Something is there,” Sera said. “I can’t tell you what.”
Leah answered the outside line. Tessa gave her the count they had heard, the uncertain injury information, and the fact that no lift had begun. Leah confirmed that a reinforcement request had been made and that she would call again if their check-in was missed.
Eli carried the new spool to Kellan. It was awkward and heavier than it looked. Kellan showed him where to place it so the cable could unwind without twisting. They worked from opposite sides of the drum, following the crane’s marked threading path. Eli wanted to pull the cable through quickly; Kellan stopped him when the first loop crossed itself.
“If it winds over itself under load, we can damage the new cable before the first lift.”
Eli backed the loop off and tried again. Kellan guided it with a gloved hand, keeping his fingers away from the pinch point. Calder held a lamp after Tessa asked him to, though he kept checking the warehouse door.
Sera moved to a low concrete barrier overlooking the controls. “It’s still near the wall,” she said. “If it comes through the opening, I’ll warn you.”
A volunteer from the warehouse team, a woman with a padded shield and a short metal pole, approached Calder. “I can draw it away from the controls.”
“You don’t know what it is,” he said.
“I don’t have to go inside. I can make noise from behind the barrier and move along the outside wall.”
Kellan looked at the barrier. It was thick enough to cover her legs and torso if she stayed behind it, but the gap at the end led toward an unprotected walkway. He pointed out the limit. The woman agreed to retreat if the source crossed the opening. Tessa asked her name for the check-in; she gave it as Ina.
Ina struck the pole against the barrier once, then again. A scraping sound answered from inside the warehouse. Sera’s posture changed.
“It moved toward her,” she said. “Still behind the wall.”
Ina continued along the protected section, striking at intervals. The scrape followed, then stopped near the far end. She withdrew before reaching the exposed walkway. Sera kept her attention on the wall.
“Controls are clear for now,” she said. “That isn’t a promise they’ll stay clear.”
The scraping stopped while Ina was still behind the barrier. She waited, pole raised, until Sera motioned her back.
“It’s not following now,” Sera said. “I can feel movement near the opening again.”
Ina retreated to the treatment point. A scrape on her cheek had begun to bleed where a fragment fell from the exterior wall. Tessa cleaned it quickly and asked her to sit while the crane was tested.
“I’m not injured enough for your stretcher,” Ina said.
“No. You still get a dressing.” Tessa pressed a small pad into her hand. “Hold this there. If you feel dizzy, tell me.”
Calder checked his phone and swore. The contractor who owned the cable had answered with a demand that nobody touch the spool until a supervisor arrived. Tessa pointed to the written record and the people at the window.
“Tell them we opened it for a rescue and recorded the number. They can come inspect the equipment afterward.”
“He says he’ll charge us for it.”
“He can send the invoice. The person upstairs can’t wait for the invoice to be settled.”
Calder typed a reply. His hand shook enough that he missed a letter and had to start again. Eli understood the fear, even if he resented the delay. Calder was responsible for a warehouse he could not safely enter, equipment he did not own, and people trapped above him. He had made decisions Eli intended to question, but he was also holding the lamp exactly where Kellan needed it.
Kellan tested the fitting with a final pull. “Calder, can you keep that light on the drum while I wind?”
The manager moved closer and braced the lamp on a case. He stayed at the controls while Kellan guided the cable, following each instruction without trying to speed up the process. When the last loop settled, he stepped back and showed Tessa the message he had sent. She photographed it with his permission and noted the time.
Kellan finished securing the cable and checked the fittings a second time. Calder checked the elevated electrical lead and restored power only after the wet area was clear. Kellan raised the empty platform a short distance, stopped, lowered it, and inspected the winding. No strand crossed another. He repeated the test with a secured weight well below the intended load. The platform rose and descended without jerking.
“The test doesn’t make it risk-free,” he said. “One person up. One patient down at a time unless I say otherwise.”
Eli stepped onto the platform with a rope and his medical kit. Kellan checked the rope’s attachment and the platform gate. Tessa stood beside the stretcher, ready to send it up after Eli reached the opening.
“If the window frame moves, don’t hold it open with your body,” she said.
“I’ll secure the rope first.”
“And tell me what you see before I come up.”
The platform rose. Eli counted the turns of the drum until Kellan called that the first section had passed cleanly through the guide. Only then did he look up at the window. The yard fell away beneath Eli, making the people below look smaller than the task required them to be. He kept one hand on the rail and watched the cable wind onto the drum. The new spool held. The window grew closer, its frame tilted in the cracked masonry.
A stone shifted above the opening. Eli saw a line of strain run from the upper corner into the wall. He called down, “Stop.”
Kellan halted the crane. Eli waited until the platform stopped swaying. A piece of mortar fell past him and struck the yard below.
“Can you reach the frame without leaning on it?” Kellan called.
“Yes. I can tie to the interior column if it’s sound.”
“Check it first.”
Eli raised his lamp. Inside, a square column stood a few feet from the window. Its base was obscured by boxes, but the visible surface showed no bright fracture. He could not certify the whole column from here. He asked the person inside to move the boxes without pulling on it.
A young hunter appeared, blood dried along one sleeve. She pushed the boxes away with her foot, catching her arm on a sharp edge and drawing blood. Eli inspected the base, then looped the rope around the column and secured the knot. He tested it with his weight while keeping both feet on the platform.
“Rope’s fixed,” he called.
The hunter held the window open from the side. “There are three of us. Tomas can’t stand. Garin’s breathing is bad.”
“Is anyone else inside?”
“Three of us were assigned upstairs. Two workers from another crew, Dax and Lian, went toward the stairs before the alarm. I don’t know where they are now.”
Below, Tessa heard enough to raise her voice. “I’m coming up with the kit. Keep Tomas and Garin where they are if they’re not in immediate danger.”
The hunter looked back into the room. “Garin doesn’t have much time.”
Eli leaned through the opening. One man lay beside a fallen shelf, another against the far wall. The light from the window reached neither clearly. He could hear a strained breath and the scrape of someone trying to move.
“Nessa?” he asked, matching her face to the name from the entry log.
She nodded.
The woman held the window with one hand and pressed her injured arm against her side. He asked whether she could still use her fingers. She showed him that she could.
“Nessa, stay by the window and tell us if the frame moves. I’m coming in.”
He stepped from the platform, keeping the rope attached, and crossed the threshold without touching the damaged corner. Below, Kellan calculated the weight of the next lift while Tessa secured her kit to the stretcher frame. Sera called that the moving source had turned back toward the controls.
Eli reached the injured men as the crane began its descent for Tessa.