Decorating both sides of the alley are cars and trucks, some jammed against the curb, others barely within the lines. William gets lucky this time: no one's blocking his garage. He stops the car, unlocks the old wooden door, and lifts it with a creak. As he walks back to the driver’s seat to pull in, a voice echoes from somewhere nearby.
He pulls into a dark alley laced with broken glass, reeking dumpsters, and the stench of human waste left behind by drunks and addicts.
