The SUV was already moving when Lingyun registered what street they were currently on.
Chenghai drove with both hands on the wheel, his breathing controlled despite his ribs still yelling at him for every movement. It had been weeks since he was attacked in his own kitchen, but ribs were a bitch for months.
Jian Yuche sat in the passenger seat, his injured shoulder pressed against the door, his good hand braced on the dashboard as they swerved around objects in the road. Xu Zhenlan remained in the back beside Wei Lingyun, his eyes never stopped moving as he scanned the buildings on either side of the road.
The street wasn't clear by any stretch of the imagination.
It was blocked in sections, making it more annoying to drive down than any rush hour. There were abandoned cars that were angled across lanes, some with their doors still open. Others appeared to have been crushed against light poles or storefronts.
