Chapter Twenty-Three
I arrived at Mitchelson’s loading warehouse with about five minutes to spare. An ancient industrial site, it had last seen business around 2005 when it had been forced to close its doors due to surging gasoline costs. The lot was well-known among locals due to the sheer size of the place and the fact that it had remained empty for so long despite pressure from developers and city officials to turn it into something more useful. Instead, the old building was crumbling, and the concrete had started to grow weeds. Graffiti decorated the walls, blending into the grimy brick exterior.
Overhead the clouds had started rolling in from the east. The heat and closeness of the last few days would soon give way to one hell of a storm.
I pulled my car around back, staying hidden
