24
They must have pulled some boards away to get inside, then covered them up so no one from the road spots their flashlight.
You're in the middle of the disused convenience store's three aisles, invisible in the darkness. At the far side of the store, a short hallway leads to three doors: a locked bathroom straight ahead and then two doors, one to the left and one to the right. You guess the left door leads to a storage room. The mortals are trying to get it open.
You count four of them: a man and a woman in their midtwenties, an ancient woman, and a frail and gray haired older man, even smaller than the old woman.
The younger woman whispers something in Spanish you don't catch, then forces the storage room door open with a shriek of metal.
"Not much here," the young man says, sweeping the storage room with his flashlight. He's traveling heavy: crowbar, backpack, water bottles, road flares…those are your road flares! They must have found your Honda.
Then the young man spins and runs his flashlight across the wall, but your lobo has already hidden behind the counter.
Whoever they are, they're foolish or desperate to bring a woman in her seventies (at least) and a guy who isn't built for this kind of work. You're surprised that they're this far north without having already made contact with someone. The younger woman starts jiggling the handle to the bathroom, which is between the storage room and the office. Bored and fearless, the old man hobbles down one of the aisles.
And your Beast screams behind your eyes.