Underneath this, a single Chevy van pulled off the main road and approached the low expanse of the hospital. The van had no windows in its sides, and all of the lights had been smashed. The rear windows were also shattered, with heavy planks of wood patching the gaps. It pulled into the parking lot, did a quick u-turn, and backed itself up to the main doors with a huff of gas. The vehicle idled for a few moments, wary, ready to bolt if anything seemed dangerous. A small freight carrier in the old days, it was now war on wheels with enough scratches and dents in its hide to give any carjacker pause. It had a “Don’t fuck with me” menace about its battered bulk and might have been the inspiration for many a poster in the late ‘80s.The engine died, and its drone evaporated into stillness. The van shook on its chassis, as if the beast were having a mechanical seizure. It continued for less than a minute, then thumps and other sounds emanated from within the Chevy’s guts, slowly making their way toward the rear.
