Julian's POV
The fuel station came into view like a flicker of hope in the dark. Old, run-down. Two broken pumps. A blinking sign that hadn't been updated in years.
I parked near the edge, engine still humming, eyes scanning every corner of the lot.
"There." Callum pointed to the side of the building. "That's the van."
Unmarked. Dust-covered. Parked at an angle like someone had left in a hurry.
We got out fast.
Damian stayed back for a second too long—eyes wide—before finally catching up. Callum was already circling the vehicle, flashlight in hand.
I moved toward the front. The hood was cool.
"They've been gone for a while," I said.
Callum nodded. "But not long. Maybe an hour. Two at most."
I stepped around to the back and tried the handle.
Locked.
Callum gave me a look. "You going to kick this one too?"
"Gladly."
One good hit, and the back latch gave way. The doors creaked open slowly.
