Carl notices the way Farzan glances up when he picks up the pace, and he first follows the man's gaze to the sky before glancing at the door, mapping a path there in his head before he glances back up at the stingbats.

They're giant - in his mind, anyway. To the residents of Hell's Gate, they're probably just a nuisance, but Carl isn't a resident of Hell's Gate. They're also pretty cool looking, but he doesn't have time to appreciate that because Farzan is telling him to run.

So he does, tightening the grip on the strap of his rucksack as he bolts across the tarmac, years of conditioning eliminating the gravity effect. He hits the button with the palm of one hand as he spins and draws the Glock with the other - not shooting, but covering, depending on how far behind (not very, he could hear bootsteps behind him) Farzan is.