Wait.
Music? What music?
Pulled from his thoughts, Wes looked around, searching for the sound of a guitar. He’d walked so long that he ended up on the south end of Duffer Springs. It was an area known for trailer parks, drug deals, and missing pets. What few normal houses stood at the far end of the block were patched up with plywood or left to crumble due to neglect. A car with no wheels sat on an overgrown lawn, and wild blackberry bushes had all but taken up most back yard real estate. At the very end of the street was an open garage, bathed in harsh light. Wes could see shadows stretched along the driveway as music broke through the air. Wes checked his watch. It was almost ten at night, but he doubted any neighbors would file a noise complaint on the south end. The music dwindled as
