ANTON
Nearly every night since the demon-human attack on Parrish’s place, Anton and Yvette had camped out on a hill across the railroad tracks from the Summit Beverage Corporation campus. They were too far from the plant to see what was happening on the inside, even with binoculars. They couldn’t see the tractor-trailer trucks that were loading at a different building, but Yvette kept accurate statistics on how much product was moved out of the warehouses and into the freight cars of the train below them. Anton spent most of his time monitoring the seemingly endless numbers of security guards in black uniforms who routinely patrolled the grounds on both sides of the tracks.
A twelve-foot-tall chain-link fence with razor wire on top discouraged anyone from ascending the hill where Anton a
