Whistletown was a tiny, almost obscure village located about thirty miles down the road from where they were. Jacob was quite familiar with the area; it was a quiet, somewhat forgotten place that time seemed to have left behind.
The bus station in Whistletown was a modest structure, hardly more than a small shelter with a single bench and a faded timetable. It served only a handful of travellers who ventured through the area, providing a minimal but necessary service for those who needed it.