"There's room to lie down at the Relief Station up ahead, and they have medicine." Jason came over carrying the remaining dressings. "I've been there before. Just cut through that alley."
Harvey nodded and sent someone ahead to check. Looking back, he saw the fat man still trying to edge toward the office and reached out to drag him back.
"Your workers are still lying here."
"I'm just going to get something..."
"Come help."
The fat man looked at Chen Mo.
Chen Mo tipped his chin toward the other end of the stretcher.
"What are you looking at me for? Go help."
The Relief Station's doors were open, but no one could get through the entrance.
A truck had backed up against the steps, blocking them, and several men were loading wooden crates onto it. The gang member who had gone ahead to ask directions stood to one side, his hand already on the gun at his waist.
"Move the truck. We have injured people behind us."
"Not our fucking problem. Let them wait!"
The men carrying crates did not stop. One shoved aside a woman supporting an injured man by the door, then raised his foot to kick away the stool blocking his way below.
Chen Mo's web caught his foot first.
The man stumbled, and the crate in his hands crashed to the ground. Its lid broke open, revealing a row of guns inside.
Chen Mo looked at the guns, then at the Relief Station sign on the wall, printed with a heart.
Ah, Gotham.
Sighing again, Chen Mo kept his voice as level as possible.
"Behave yourselves. Put down your weapons, raise your hands, and surrender."
"Do you know whose shipment this-"
The man reached behind his waist, but Chen Mo was already in front of