Jingwei looked past the man clinging to the door and found the shopping cart where it had been left between the concrete barriers.
A stained blanket covered most of its contents, making it harder to see what was in it. But the man who had pushed it into the road stood beside it now, watching the delivery man rather than the vehicle.
The warning might be true, but it also might be another attempt to keep them in one place while someone approached from a direction they weren’t watching.
"Get off the step," Jingwei demanded through the speaker. He kept the rear view open beside the image of the cart. "We’re moving."
The delivery man shook his head and pressed closer to the door. Sweat ran beneath the collar of his jacket, darkening fabric already stiff with dirt.
From this distance, Jingwei could see where the towel around his hand had caught against a loose flap of skin.
"I’m telling you because I want to leave with you," the man explained quickly. "I know where he keeps it. I know which roads they’ve blocked. You’ll need someone who knows what’s happened out here."
Behind Jingwei, Zeyu released a slow breath.
The engine continued running beneath them, its steady vibration carrying through the floor.
They had room to reverse now, but with the way the man was clinging to the step, it pretty much guaranteed that no matter what move Zeyu made, the other man was going to lost his grip and fall under the wheel.
Jingwei had seen him try the door while asking for water. Him knowing about the gun didn’t make Jingwei forget about that.
"You need to get down," Jingwei repeated. "Telling us about the gun doesn’t mean we’re taking you with us."
The delivery man looked over his shoulder.
Beneath the underpass, the broad man still had the woman’s hair in his fist, but he was watching the cab now. He said something to the man beside the cart, who lifted a corner of the blanket.
Jingwei saw the handgun before the man picked it up.
"He has a gun," Jingwei told the others, finally confirming the weapon as he enlarged the picture so that Hanchuan could also see it. "Beside the cart."
Hanchuan leaned toward Zhiyi and spoke quietly.
Jingwei saw her nod in the reflection on his screen, then looked outside again. Shichen had turned to check the rear cameras. Qinghe was still facing the windshield, his hands flat on his knees.
None of them moved to open the door.
The delivery man saw the gun and pulled at the handle again. His towel slipped, leaving his fingers against the hot metal, but he didn’t let go.
"Open it!" the delivery man begged. "He saw me talking to you. You can’t leave me here now."
"Get away from the vehicle," Jingwei said through the speaker, keeping his eyes on the gun. "We aren’t opening the door."
The delivery man stared through the glass.
His face was close enough for Jingwei to see fresh blood in the split across his lip. After a few seconds, he stopped pleading.
"You have a whole fucking house in there," the delivery man said. "I’m asking for one seat."
Zeyu shifted his grip on the wheel, getting uncomfortable, and Jingwei knew he could hear every word.
The man kept looking at them as though they owed him a place inside, and Jingwei wished he would stop.
There were six seats, and all six were occupied.
But behind them were the beds, food, and equipment they had spent weeks getting ready. The man could see enough to know they had more than he did, but that didn’t give him the right to take any of it.
"Jingwei, the cart," Zhiyi said, drawing his attention back to the screen.
The armed man had come around the barrier.
He held the pistol low, his arm stiff, while the broad man shouted at him from beside the pillar. People nearby hurried away. One woman grabbed two bags and ducked behind a concrete support.
"Keep reversing," Hanchuan told Zeyu. "Don’t wait for him to aim."
As the mobile base began moving, Jingwei told the delivery man to get down one last time.
The man’s eyes widened when the step moved beneath him. Instead of letting go, he bent his knees and clung harder to the handle.
The first shot hit the front of the mobile base with a crack that Jingwei felt through his seat.
Zeyu flinched but kept his hands on the wheel.
Zhiyi lowered her head as Hanchuan stretched an arm across her, bracing his hand against the far side of her seat. Qinghe leaned toward her from across the aisle.
Jingwei checked the windshield.
The bullet had damaged the outer glass, but nothing had come through. Beyond the mark, he could see the gunman raising the pistol again.
The man was shouting, though Jingwei couldn’t make out the words over the other voices coming through the microphone.
"The glass held," Jingwei told Zeyu, making himself speak calmly. His friend was watching the rear cameras while someone shot at them from the front. "Nothing behind us. Keep going."
The delivery man ducked below the window. On the side camera, Jingwei could see him crouched against the door, one foot slipping toward the edge of the step.
"Stop shooting!" the delivery man screamed. "I’m still here!"
The second shot cut across his words.
He hit the side of the vehicle, and Jingwei thought for a moment that his foot had slipped. Then the towel fell from the handle, and the man dropped off the step.
"Stop," Jingwei said sharply.
Zeyu braked. Jingwei switched cameras and found the delivery man on the ground beside them, clear of the wheels.
One leg was folded beneath him. He tried to push himself up, but his arm gave way, and a dark stain spread across the shoulder of his jacket.
"He’s clear of the wheels," Jingwei told Zeyu. He had to force the next words out. "You can move."
Zeyu began backing up again. Jingwei watched the man on the side camera until he came into view through the windshield. He looked smaller with every yard they put between them.
In the meantime, the broad man had let go of the woman.
She stumbled against the pillar, caught herself, and turned toward the wounded man. Before she reached him, the man in the oversized slippers came out of the alley.
Jingwei watched him crouch beside the delivery man and reach inside his jacket.
For a moment, he thought someone was going to help.
The man pulled out a small bottle instead. He unscrewed the cap and drank while the delivery man grabbed at his wrist. When the injured man held on, the thief hit his hand with the bottle.
Zeyu made a quiet sound beside Jingwei and turned away from the windshield.
"Watch the rear camera," Jingwei reminded him, though he was still looking at the men himself.
The woman reached the two men and shoved the thief away.
He backed off with the bottle while she knelt beside the delivery man. Farther back, the gunman lowered his pistol and looked toward the broad man, waiting.
Jingwei reached toward the sound controls. He could hear the woman clearly now as she pulled open the delivery man’s jacket, her pleas filling the cab.
"Leave the sound on," Qinghe said.
Jingwei looked back. His friend was pale, his eyes fixed on the woman’s hands as she pressed them against the wound in the delivery man’s shoulder.
Outside, the broad man started walking toward her.