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I blinked against the rain. “Hopefully, it’s a short wait.”

Varesh and Tim crowded under the awning as Ava checked the door handle. She shook her head, lifting her axe and tapping the butt against the glass panel until it shattered.

I reached through the jagged hole and found the latch, easing the door open.

Cold, stale air rolled out, and the temperature inside seemed even lower than outside. I crossed the threshold and inhaled nothing but damp carpet and dust, facing a reception desk that had been swept clean of any belongings.

The others slipped in behind me and shut the door, cutting off the worst of the growing noise from the road.

“See if we can find a first-aid kit while we’re clearing the place,” Tim said. “I think I’m going to need it.”

Our boots left a trail of muddy prints as we worked room by room, each door opened with the same routine Kirby, Ava, and I had adopted days ago.

Ava stood, axe raised, as I eased the handle down, while Tim and Varesh waited behind us, ready to act if anything came through.

The first door down the hallway revealed an overturned chair behind a desk, with last year’s calendar on the wall. I pushed the opposite door open and found a staff kitchen with a small table and chairs, a microwave, and a fridge. I grabbed the supplies we’d need for Tim’s shoulder from the first-aid cupboard fixed to the wall above the sink.

At the end of the hallway, another door opened onto the undercover storage units—a long concrete corridor with blue roller doors on either side. No shuffling footsteps or voices came from the cavernous space. I leaned out far enough to check either side of the opening. Shrink-wrapped pallets sat off to the right, with supplies I’d check out later once we were settled.

“All good,” I said, shutting the door again.

We headed back into the main reception area, straight for the last office at the front. A heavy desk, a rug, and a leather executive chair filled the space, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the industrial estate.

I twisted the blinds open just enough to monitor the road.

“Safe.” Ava sighed, taking my pickaxe and propping it against the side wall with her axe.

Varesh set my backpack on the desk, and I laid the bandages and sterile wipes alongside it.

He pulled out the desk chair and said to Tim, “Sit, and we’ll find out how badly you were hurt.”

If his voice sounded a little tense, I couldn’t blame him.

Tim took the offered chair without objection and reached for the zipper on his jacket. Ava and I stood close by, our backs to the havoc outside as he laid the jacket in his lap.

Blood stained the shoulder of his grey henley, and the thin material had been torn enough to expose the damaged skin underneath. I just hoped it wouldn’t require more than a basic patch-up job.

Varesh paused for a moment, then pulled back the neckline for a closer look.

“Anything?” Tim asked, straining to see the damage.

“You’re bleeding quite a lot,” he said. “I can’t see the injury properly.”

I swooped in and grabbed a packet of gauze, ripping the plastic open and handing it to Varesh.

Ava moved behind Tim and held his shirt away from the injury, giving Varesh room to work.

Varesh pressed a pad of gauze to the wound, and the stark white immediately flooded red. His mouth tightened as he applied pressure, holding firm for several seconds.

The sounds outside intensified, muffled by the glass.

No one moved or spoke while we waited and stared at the gauze.

When he pulled it away, raw skin showed now that most of the blood was gone. More seeped from the wound, but it was already pooling at a slower rate.

“Does it…” Tim’s eyes flicked to Ava, then back to Varesh. “Does it look like teeth?”

“No,” he said, reaching for the sterile wipes. “No, it doesn’t.”