It was a truck graveyard. Hundreds of heavy vehicles stood bumper to bumper, rusting under the open sky. They had been sitting there for decades, trapped in an endless, silent traffic jam.
Landon walked up to the nearest van. The tires were flat and the paint was peeling, but the glass was intact. He tugged on the door handle. Locked.
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He walked around to the back of the truck and felt a cold chill run down his spine. The doors weren’t just closed. They were wrapped in thick industrial chains, secured with padlocks the size of fists.