Re: Night Moves
With Trask's suit loaded onboard the SUV's springs creaked but it held the weight. Barely! They slowly moved out into the darkness as they left the parked rig behind.
The gathering fog made the surrounding forest even more darker, alien, despite the sun almost being up. The east glowed while the stars above faded from view, but still all around was the forest and the fog creeping off Black Bayou Lake. Kudzu-wreathed trailers and slumping homes became more frequent as they entered what was the town, pre-war. But Hosston had been little more than a ville and had little or nothing in the way of civic buildings. It was mainly a collection of small houses, trailers, a former garage or two and oil pumps scattered throughout a large semi-cleared spot in the forest.
At the nominal centre of the dispersed rural community was the former HQ of a local oil company. The fog was lit by searchlights pointing into the sky, accompanied by light posts spaced regularly along a perimeter fence that ran around the building through the extensive prewar lawns. There were more lights on four corner watch towers.
It was the largest of the town's pre-war structures: a medium-sized 3-story concrete building with accompanying garage. The garage was very large and looked almost like an aircraft hangar, with a semi-domed roof and 2-story doors. This was the HQ of the local oil company. It had been shut down for decades before the war when the oil ran out, then reactivated as the need for scarce petroleum became so great even marginal operations were restarted. Now it was "Porky's Roadhouse" as a neon sign on the front gate proclaimed.
Nothing moved at the roadhouse, not surprising this close to dawn. The gate was open. A few pickup trucks caked with red mud were parked inside the fenceline.
Beyond the building they could see the taillights of a hoverbike, disappearing into the gloom that still shrouded the west.