We ran out of gas ten miles from town. The clunker we had loaned from Sarkins got piss poor mileage, but at least it got us where we were going. Mostly.

Just up the rise I saw something that looked like the warm yellow light of someone’s front window, so I decided to take a look. Jim didn’t want to leave the car behind, but I couldn’t imagine anyone stealing it.

It didn’t take long to realize we were walking towards some kind of creepy factory, but by then curiosity had gotten the better of us. There were all kinds of ghostly sounds and the foulest odor I had smelled since leaving the city. But the stacks blew no smoke and we couldn’t see any movement inside the windows.

When we reached the front of the building, low, squat, and long, Jim noticed a sign above the door, but it was too faded to make out anything more than ’...tor Industr..” There we no cars in the parking lot and still no movement inside, but the lights were on and those noises and smells were definitely coming from the building.