#Chapter20
The day had passed with depressing alacrity.
At least that was what Sylvester found himself thinking as he gazed out of the blacked-out window of the top of the range Hummer. It was barely six p.m, and though the sky was still harbouring a pleasant remnant of daylight, he felt as though it was much later than it was.
Gallow Springs was a quaint little neighbourhood, and at the end, rounded off into a neat cul-de-sac, a small arc of beautiful bungalows sat. It had taken the best part of an hour and a half to reach, but now that they had arrived, he found himself regretting his decision, wishing that it wasn't too late to turn the car around.