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Tim and Varesh were several metres behind us, fighting their own battles with the mud. Tim hadn’t spoken since we’d made a run for it, but Varesh kept encouraging him to move.
The chain-link fence running alongside us rattled in the wind, barbed wire glistening with droplets of rain. Shipping containers were stacked in rows behind it, a wall of metal hiding who-knew-what.
A horn blared from the road. Another set of screeching tyres. One more car joined the others, crashing headlong into the pile-up.
How the fuck could something start out so calm and turn that fast?
Screams shattered the air, but I didn’t look back. There was nothing left to salvage.
Ava scanned the gravel yard beside us. The drizzle had turned to rain, splattering her cheeks and hair. “If we don’t get out of the weather soon, we’re going to freeze to death.”
Every warehouse we passed was fronted by loading docks or roller doors. We needed a small space with solid walls.
Another shout cut through the air, closer than the others had been.
I kept my eyes straight ahead and upped the pace, quads and calves straining, breath heaving from me.
Ava pointed ahead to the left. “There—the fence at the storage place.”
Mostly hidden behind weeds and an overgrown hedge, a section of chain-link had broken free of its post and curled at the edge, leaving a hole big enough for a person to squeeze through.
I jogged over and dropped into a crouch, lifting the twisted wire. “You first,” I said.
Ava crawled through the gap, the damp grass soaking her knees. As soon as she’d made it to the other side, she straightened and raised her weapon, surveying the yard. “Looks clear from here.”
Varesh followed, barely straining for breath after all the running we’d done.
“Keep your eyes open,” I warned.
“Don’t worry, my head’s on the proverbial swivel.” He scrambled through the opening, pausing just long enough to curse and untangle his hair from the jutting wire.
Tim came next, the torn shoulder of his jacket catching on the metal. “Oh, come on.”
“Wait a second.” I reached out to lift it, but Tim had a quicker solution, using brute force to break free.
The wire widened the tear in his jacket and snagged his skin, too, going by his yelp of pain.
He staggered to his feet and touched his shoulder, pulling away fingers that were stained red. “Dammit. My favourite jacket.”
“You stole it from apartment seven two days ago.” Varesh ran his hand over the back of Tim’s head. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere safe, and I’ll take a look at the damage.”
Tim huffed a loud breath. “It got me pretty good.”
Varesh stepped away from the gap and made room for me to come through. “Were you already bleeding before the fence?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Another scream floated on the breeze. Ava’s eyes met mine through the fence, and she held up the curled wire with the hint of a smile. “What are you still doing over there? You’re on the wrong side.”
“On my way.” I shoved my backpack through the opening first, and Varesh slung it over his shoulder. Ava kept her hand between the wire and my back as I shuffled under it and joined them in the yard.
She closed the opening behind me, nudging the wire into place again with her boot. It wouldn’t stop anyone who was determined to follow us, but from a distance the broken fence wouldn’t be obvious.
I shook out the ache in my arm and took a minute to catch my breath.
A couple of stacks of empty pallets sat beside the nearest row of storage units, with stringy weeds forcing their way through the gaps. Rain drummed a steady beat on the corrugated roof of the office building, and the blinds on the windows were closed. No smashed glass or forced locks.
Ava glanced at me, our boots crunching on gravel as we crossed to the entrance. “There won’t be heating. Blankets. Anything to keep warm,” she said, “but at least it’s better than what’s out here.”
