The rain is still falling, showing no sign of stopping.
The lights in the room flickered a few times, then settled. Chen Hao sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, still clutching the shovel in his hand. Water dripped from his clothes down his trousers, forming a small puddle on the floor. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving as if he had just finished a marathon.
“There’s a crack in the east wall.” Nana stood in front of the control panel, her eyes fixed on the screen. “The wind pressure is increasing. If we don’t reinforce it soon, the wall may deform.”
"Which section?" Carl leaned out from the stairwell, a wrench in his hand.
"At the seam on the south side, temporary adhesive strips were used during the last repair, and now the sealant is peeling off." Nana pulled up the structural diagram and pointed with her finger, "We must use metal plates to diagonally brace it and distribute the pressure."
"I'll go move the boards." Chen Hao stood up, supporting himself on his knees. His legs were trembling a little, but he still took a step.
"Don't go," Susan stopped him. "You fell just now and you can't walk properly yet."
"If I don't go, who will?" Chen Hao chuckled. "I'm not made of glass; I won't break if you touch me."
As he stepped outside, the wind nearly knocked him over. Rain stung his face like needles; he lowered his head, shielding his eyes with one hand and gripping the wall with the other as he moved forward. Behind the warehouse lay several scrap metal planks; he bent down, dragged one out, and pulled it back through gritted teeth.
Carl was already waiting for him by the wall. The two of them stood the board up and tried to fit it into the preset slot, but the angle was wrong and it wouldn't go in.
"Nana!" Karl yelled, "Adjust the angle!"
"Turn it seven degrees clockwise," Nana's voice came through the walkie-talkie. "Secure the base with iron hooks, and add a crossbeam for support."
Susan ran over with ropes and stakes, squatted down, and tied knots. Her hands were red from the cold, but she didn't slow down at all. The three of them worked together to secure the board, and then pulled two more crisscrossing ropes to the support frame next to them.
"Alright," Carl clapped his hands. "Let's hold out for a while."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a piece of roofing was blown off by the wind, flipped twice, and landed on the side of the drainage ditch.
"Damn!" Chen Hao looked up, "That side is collapsing too!"
“Not only that.” Nana’s voice turned cold. “The water on the south side has already overflowed the threshold, and the outer wall of the grain storage area has begun to leak.”
“We don’t have enough waterproof tarpaulins.” Susan wiped the rain off her face. “The ones we used before were all blown away.”
“Use pipes to create a diversion channel,” Nana said. “Divide the water flow and then build a water curtain.”
"Make it fresh?" Carl frowned. "Where are the ingredients?"
"There's a half-section of a discarded ventilation pipe under the third row of shelves in the warehouse," Nana reported the location. "Just cut it into a U-shape and smooth the joint. Use high-strength fiber cloth with a metal frame for the water curtain. I'll send the drawings to the tablet."
Chen Hao groaned inwardly when he heard he had to do it again. He dreaded jobs requiring finesse; he used to make mistakes even when copying answers during exams. But now, no one could do it for him.
He crawled into the warehouse, found the section of pipe, and retrieved a cutting knife. His hand slipped, the blade slicing through his fingertip, drawing blood. He took a breath, hastily wrapped a cloth around his fingertip, and continued working.
Carl took the cut pipe section, inspected the joint, and then took out his welding torch to begin connecting it. The sparks flashed and died in the rain, but his skillful technique allowed him to quickly piece together a complete U-shaped groove.
Susan and Nana were assembling a water curtain at the entrance. The frame was pieced together from aluminum strips salvaged from an old support structure, and the fabric seams were double-stitched. They stood the finished product up in the doorway and secured it to the ground with screws.
“The water flow direction has changed.” Nana looked at the monitor screen. “The water is now flowing eastward along the new channel.”
“It’s not over yet.” Carl pointed to the other side. “There’s another breach over there, and water is pouring in.”
None of the four spoke; they turned and rushed back into the rain.
Chen Hao was in charge of carrying sandbags. His shoes were covered in mud, and every step felt like walking on glue. He carried three, and as soon as he lifted the fourth one, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees.
"Take a break," Susan said, helping him up. "I'll help you."
"No need." Chen Hao shook off her hand. "I can manage."
After he finished speaking, he continued walking forward, his steps unsteady, but he didn't stop.
Carl, who had been cursing the weather as he worked, fell silent. He finished welding the last section of the guide channel, glanced back at Chen Hao, silently walked over, took the sandbag from Chen Hao's shoulder, and placed it in the designated spot.
“You lead the way,” he said. “I’ll cover the rear.”
Susan dug a temporary water storage pit in a low-lying area to channel the water for centralized discharge. Nana, meanwhile, stayed at the control console, constantly updating data and directing adjustments to the deployment at each point.
Time passed slowly, and the rain seemed to have lessened a bit. The wind was still blowing, but it was no longer tearing at the buildings as fiercely as before.
"The main defense line is 85% complete," Nana reported. "The drainage system is operating normally, and there is no risk of flooding in the core area."
Chen Hao slumped in the corner of the control room, leaning against the wall, still clutching half a tool handle in his hand. His eyes were closed, his breathing was heavy, and his face was covered in mud and sweat.
"Are you still alive?" Carl walked over and tossed him a bottle of water.
"I won't die." Chen Hao opened his eyes. "I just feel like I won't be able to get up tomorrow morning."
"If you dare to take a day off, I'll throw away all the cookies you secretly hid yesterday," Susan said as she walked over, wiping her hands.
"That was my last reserve of food!" Chen Hao sat up abruptly. "You can't treat me like this!"
"Then don't sleep too soundly tonight," Susan sneered. "You might have to get up and work the night shift."
Nana suddenly spoke up: "The wind has changed direction."
Everyone fell silent.
"The wind is shifting from northwest to southeast, and the wind speed has decreased slightly, but the air pressure is still dropping." She stared at the screen. "This is not the end; it's just a brief calm after the storm's center has moved."
"Does that mean... we're going to have another round?" Chen Hao's voice was a little weak.
"Most likely," Nana nodded.
Carl stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Then let's keep going. There's no going back anyway."
Susan went to check if the last section of the drain was clear. Carl followed her to the eaves, and the two of them together lifted a piece of metal that was blocking the water flow.
"It's working now." Susan breathed a sigh of relief.
“What about over there?” Carl pointed to a more distant corner.
"Take one more look."
They crouched down and dug through the mud with their hands. Water slowly flowed out, carrying debris and rotten leaves.
Chen Hao tried to stand up to check the situation, but his legs wouldn't obey him. He tried twice, but in the end he could only sit against the wall, his knuckles white as he gripped the tool handle in his hand.
Nana remained standing in front of the control panel, the screen's light reflecting off her face, obscuring her expression. Her fingers swiped across the tablet, constantly refreshing the data.
The rain outside started to get heavier again.
The wind lashed against the wall, making a dull thud.
Just as Carl and Susan looked up, a bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the entire base.
Chen Hao saw the water glistening on their faces, and he also saw the mud on the tip of the tool handle in his hand, dripping down one drop at a time.
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