Chapter 269: The Door Was Still Shut

Zhiyi watched the man take a short pry bar from his bag.

He laid it on the landing beside a hammer, then pulled back a flap to look for something else. His companion stood near the door with the backpack still over his shoulders, leaving the woman on the stairs behind them.

Jingwei opened the speaker before the man could stand.

"These floors are occupied," Jingwei told them, his voice cold and resolute. "Put the tools away and go back downstairs. There are dry rooms below you. We’ll let you stay there."

The man with the backpack looked directly at the camera. Dust covered his hair, and a narrow cut ran from his eyebrow toward his ear.

"We came from the building that fell," he said, shifting the weight on his shoulders. "Those people downstairs are keeping the rooms for themselves."

"You can use the empty floors above them," Jingwei replied, bringing up the nearest landing on a second screen. "After all, you had to pass an open door on your way here."

The man glanced at his companion, who had stopped searching the bag but hadn’t put anything away. Behind them, the woman lowered her bundle onto a step and rubbed her arms.

"There’s nothing in those rooms," the man with the backpack said. He took a step toward the door, studying its frame. "No blankets, no water. We heard you talking through the speakers. You’ve got power up there."

Zhiyi moved the tablet away from the edge of the table. Beside her, Hanchuan straightened while Jingwei left his chair.

"Zeyu, come with me," Jingwei said, taking his rifle from the rack near the door. "Hanchuan, keep them on the camera."

Jingwei passed close enough for Zhiyi to catch his sleeve. He stopped beside her, his attention dropping to her hand before he looked at her face.

"Stay behind the barrier," Zhiyi said quietly. She knew he understood the layout better than she did, but she wanted to say it while he was still within reach.

Jingwei covered her fingers with his free hand. "I’m not opening the door for them."

He bent to kiss her, briefly enough that she could still hear the man outside calling for an answer. Then he followed Zeyu into the corridor, leaving her beside Hanchuan at the controls.

On the screen, the man with the tools picked up the pry bar.

Hanchuan pressed the microphone button. "Leave it on the floor. You’ve been told where you can shelter."

The man hesitated with the bar against his thigh. His companion reached past him and tried the handle again, pulling hard enough that the straps of his backpack drew tight across his shoulders.

"They can’t stop us using the stairs," the man with the backpack said, turning toward his companion. "It’s an emergency exit."

Zhiyi checked the lower landing. The door to the empty public floor stood open, exactly where Jingwei had told them to go. Nobody was following them or blocking their way back.

The woman rose from the step.

"Leave it," she told the men, reaching for her bundle. "We can go down one floor. I’m not standing here while you break into someone’s room."

The man with the backpack caught her elbow before she could turn. She pulled away, clutching the blanket against her chest, and he followed her down a step.

"Wait until we’ve looked," he said. "They’ve got enough to keep the lights on. They can spare a corner."

The man at the door slid the end of the bar into the narrow gap beside the frame.

Hanchuan reached for his radio, but Jingwei spoke first.

"Take it out," Jingwei said through the landing speaker. "If you keep trying to force the door, I’ll fire."

The bar stopped moving. For a moment, Zhiyi thought the man would listen. He looked toward the camera, then down at the tools beside his feet.

His companion shoved the woman toward the lower steps and reached beneath his jacket.

Zhiyi saw the handgun before he raised it. She drew in a breath to warn Jingwei, but Hanchuan was already speaking into the radio.

The shot from outside struck the camera housing. The image jumped sideways, showing the ceiling and part of the railing, while the sound burst through the room’s speakers.

Jingwei’s answering shot came almost immediately.

Zhiyi gripped the edge of the table until Hanchuan brought up the second camera.

The man with the backpack had fallen against the steps. His handgun lay below him, and the woman was crouched on the landing beneath it with both hands over her head.

The pry bar struck the floor as the other man backed away from the door.

"Leave the weapons where they are," Jingwei ordered. His voice remained steady over the speaker. "Take him downstairs."

The man with the tools stared at his fallen companion, then looked toward the woman. She hadn’t moved to help.

When he called to her, she shook her head and began gathering the blanket she had dropped.

Zeyu’s voice came through their private radio. "We’re both fine. The door’s still closed."

Zhiyi let go of the table. Across the room, Qinghe had risen, but he settled back into his chair when Hanchuan acknowledged the report.

They waited while the man dragged his companion down the stairs. The woman went ahead, carrying her bundle without looking back. Nobody retrieved the tools or the gun.

Jingwei stayed at the barrier until they had entered the empty public floor. When he returned, Zhiyi met him near the communications-room door, looking first at his face and then at his hands.

"I’m all right," Jingwei told her, setting his rifle securely aside before reaching for her. "Zeyu was watching the other approach. Nobody got near us."

Zhiyi stepped into his arms. His shirt felt cool against her cheek, and she stayed there while he rested his hand at the back of her head.

"I know," she said. "I still wanted you back."

Jingwei held her closer without answering immediately. Behind him, Zeyu crossed to the screens and began checking the damaged camera while Hanchuan spoke quietly with Shichen.

By the time they returned to the kitchen, the food had gone cold. Shichen had checked the inner rooms and cleared them to use the kitchen with the shutters closed. Qinghe swept up the broken dishes while Zeyu reheated what could be saved.

Zhiyi sat beside Jingwei, close enough that their knees touched beneath the table. Rain rattled against the shutters, louder now that the building across from them no longer blocked the wind.

"I’d like to marry you tomorrow," Zhiyi told him as he set a fresh cup in front of her. "We can use one of the inner rooms."

Jingwei turned toward her, leaving his hand beside the cup. "Are you sure you want tomorrow?"

Zhiyi took his hand and rested it on her lap.

"Yes, but there’s something we haven’t finished," she said, looking around the table as the others sat down.

"Before all this happened, I asked what everyone wanted our life together to be. I’d still like to hear your answers."