At dawn, Oren gathered the first evacuation captains on the lower road. Three carts stood beside the marker, one carrying sacks of grain, one carrying blankets, and one with an injured traveler stretched across its boards. The road split toward the inland ford and the mill turn.
Wei set a red cloth on the ridge as a false alarm. “The north trail is blocked. The relay is silent. Move the carts.”
Oren had assigned a primary and alternate to each route before the run. Sela received the inland baton; the west-road captain held a blue cloth. Two trainees acted as guards, and another took the injured traveler’s place on the clinic cart. The supply drivers wanted to know which route was active, but the captains had not yet set the signal.
“The first run starts with the false alarm,” Wei said. “Use what you know.”
Yan took his place above the road. “I’ll play the attacker. Don’t wait for me to make it easy.”
He began a modest Blood Ignition surge. Its personal cost turned into more life and vigor. He welcomed the strength, then moved downhill toward the lead cart. The trainees watched him instead of their route marks.
