Chapter 259: Not Another Boat

Hanchuan watched the driver disappear through the open window, leaving the small boat knocking against the wall.

The fallen rifleman remained beneath the loose sheet near the bow. Nobody reached out to bring him inside.

"Find the room that window belongs to," Hanchuan told Shichen, moving closer to the screens. "We need to see who took the rifle."

Shichen switched through the lower cameras until a dim hallway appeared. Water shone across the floor, and someone had pushed a desk against one wall to keep the passage clear. The boat’s driver stumbled into view with a man holding his upper arm.

He tried to pull away when they reached the desk.

The man who had helped him through the window stepped into the hallway behind them, carrying the rifle.

He wore a dark sweater with one sleeve hanging loose at the wrist. Hanchuan didn’t recognize him, but the driver clearly hadn’t expected him to keep the weapon.

"Give that back," the driver demanded, reaching past the man holding him. "I need to get upstairs."

The man in the sweater raised the rifle, making the driver stop.

"You’ve been shooting at the building my family’s sleeping in," he said. "You aren’t going anywhere until you tell me who else is coming."

Zeyu lowered his own weapon slightly. Beside him, Jingwei enlarged the image without opening the speaker.

Hanchuan watched the driver look toward the window. His boat was only a room away, but two more people had appeared behind him, blocking the way back.

"They’ve taken him," Jingwei said. "He didn’t come in to join them."

"Keep the stairs on the other screen," Hanchuan replied. He looked toward Zeyu, who was still standing with his rifle against his chest. "We can wait here until we know where that gun goes."

Downstairs, the driver began talking quickly.

He pointed toward the front of the building, then upward, blaming the people he had been trying to shoot. The man in the sweater listened until the driver took another step toward him.

He pushed the rifle forward, stopping him against the desk.

"Sit down," the man ordered. "You can tell me from there."

The driver sat. Someone pulled his arms behind him while another person searched his coat.

They found a radio and passed it to the man with the rifle, who held it close to his ear when a voice came through.

Hanchuan recognized the voice before he understood the words. It belonged to the man who had ordered the collection of food.

"Have you got inside?" the voice asked. "Answer me."

The man in the sweater looked at the driver. Then he pressed the button.

"Your friend is staying here," he replied. "If you want him, come back without the guns."

Jingwei changed the exterior view.

Farther along the flooded street, the larger boat had stopped beside a concrete stairway. Its remaining men crouched beneath the torn canopy while the driver held them against the current.

The man with the radio listened, looked toward the tower, and said something to his companion.

The boat pulled away.

Hanchuan followed it across two cameras before it disappeared behind another building.

He waited for it to return, but the water remained empty except for floating wood and a plastic chair caught against a streetlight.

"They’re leaving him," Zeyu said quietly. He set his weapon down at last, keeping it within reach beside the desk.

Below them, the captured driver was still watching the radio. He called toward it twice before the man in the sweater moved it away.

Hanchuan had seen enough to know they wouldn’t need to chase anyone tonight.

Their shutters would remain closed, the entrances would stay guarded, and the people downstairs could decide what to do with the man they had caught.

He turned toward his friends.

"We’ll take turns here," Hanchuan said. "Jingwei and I can cover the first watch. The rest of you need to eat and get some sleep."

Zhiyi looked at him from beside Qinghe. Her hair was loose, and she had folded the sleeves of Qinghe’s shirt back from her wrists.

Hanchuan recognized the shirt because his friend had worn it at breakfast.

He held out his hand as she passed.

Zhiyi stopped in front of him, letting him draw her close. He kissed her gently, then rested his forehead against hers for a moment. She touched his jaw, her thumb brushing the place he had missed while shaving.

"You haven’t eaten either," she reminded him. "I saw your plate in the kitchen."

"I’ll bring it in here." Hanchuan kissed her once more before letting her step back. "Go with Qinghe. We’ll call if anything changes."

She studied his face, apparently deciding whether he meant the part about his food, then turned toward the kitchen instead of the stairs.

A few minutes later, she returned carrying his plate.

Qinghe followed with the tray Zeyu had given him earlier. He set it on the cleared end of the desk while Shichen brought chairs from the sitting room.

By the time Hanchuan realized what they were doing, all six of them had found somewhere to sit.

"The rice will need warming again if we leave it much longer," Qinghe said, uncovering the dishes. "We might as well eat while we can."

Jingwei shifted a keyboard aside to make room for his bowl.

Zeyu complained that he couldn’t reach the vegetables without leaning across the controls, so Zhiyi moved the dish closer and took the piece he had been aiming for.

Hanchuan watched Zeyu stare at her chopsticks.

"There were others," Zhiyi pointed out, putting the food into her mouth.

"I’d chosen that one," Zeyu replied, though he was smiling by the time he reached for another.

Hanchuan ate with Zhiyi’s chair pressed close to his. The cameras remained in view, but for a while he could listen to his friends arguing over dinner instead of strangers demanding what belonged to them.

Later, when Qinghe and Zhiyi went upstairs, she paused at the doorway and looked back. Hanchuan lifted his hand, and she smiled before following Qinghe out.

The night passed without another shot.

Near morning, Jingwei woke Hanchuan from the short rest he had taken in the chair beside the desk. His friend’s hand remained on his shoulder while Hanchuan sat forward.

"The driver told them something," Jingwei said, pointing toward the lower hallway. "They’ve been moving people ever since."

On the screen, the residents were carrying their bags through the stairwell. The man in the sweater still held the rifle, but he was helping an older woman lift her bedding rather than pointing it at anyone.

Then Hanchuan saw what the others were carrying: buckets, basins, and lengths of plastic guttering taken from the abandoned offices.

"Put the sound on," Hanchuan said, reaching for his radio as the captured driver appeared between two men.

The driver stopped beneath the camera and looked toward the dark window.

"You don’t understand," he told them, his voice cracking as they pulled him onward. "It isn’t another boat. The water’s coming over the embankment."