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I feel nauseous, lightheaded.
The four of us climb out of the van, into the bright sunshine, and head along the factory car park. Weeds and grass sprout out from the cracks in the concrete, and there’s a smell of decomposing rubbish in the air. So many businesses have gone like this since the outbreak. Ironically, the curfew was meant to keep people safe, but with more and more factories closing, they’ve become breeding grounds for vamps.
When we first learned about these nests, for some dumb, childish reason, I thought it’d be cool to raid an old building, armed to the teeth with guns, batons, and dogs, and flush out a horde of stinking bloodsuckers. But here, at this moment, and even with the two Alsatian dogs, all I feel is a horrid sense of trepidation.
From outside, the buildin
