Chương 18: Chapter 18: The Six Week Plan
A/N: Alright, I'll probably not upload for about at least three days, so I just upload three chapters now. also, I think you guys misunderstand something, when I ask you to give one star review, I ask you to give one star as the rating, AND THEN actually review the damn book, not spam. that way the stars don't matter, only the actual content of your reviews. I'm sure you've seen this 'system' in that Alexander Creed book.
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As the group gathered around the dining table, their eyes locked in an exchange. Barry rose from his seat and unfurled a weathered scroll atop the table, the dim overhead light casting long shadows on its creased surface. It was a map—a map of their current location, the map of the state they're currently in.
"We're holed up in Missouri right now," Barry declared, his finger jabbing at a marked location, the bottle cap beneath it serving as a marker. "This is the mansion we're squatting in. A stone's throw from Raccoon Town, a skip from Springfield, and the nearest town, Freeford, are a good three hours' trek from this neck of the woods. Now, our most pressing concern is securing transportation and new identities for these folks here. But let's be real: Freeford's a dead end for new IDs, for obvious reasons. To score those fresh identities, I've got a contact in Chicago."
"Chicago?" Ethan raised an inquisitive brow, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "That's a solid five hundred miles away."
"I know, Hunter." Barry sighed. "That's why I'm laying it out here. We're either hopping a plane or burning rubber for five hundred miles. Unless you've got some teleportation trick up your sleeve, that's our sole ticket."
Ethan just scoffed.
"Flying isn't going to cut it," Chris chimed in, his grizzled voice laced with caution. "Uncle Sam's radar can sniff us out that way, and that's not what we're aiming for right now."
"Five hundred miles it is," mused the sheriff, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Any ideas on snagging those wheels?"
Barry pondered for a moment. "Maybe Freeford's hiding a junkyard somewhere, ripe for scavenging. Grab some beat-up cars and tinker 'em back to life."
"Do you even know how to do that, Barry?" Jill raised her doubt, crossing her arms. "And you know we have to register the cars with the DMV, right? Otherwise, we'll get pulled over every time a cop passes right through us."
"We could just rent a car, Claire suggested.
"Yeah, we need to give our ID too for that." Chris shook his head. "The best we can do is just steal a license plate."
"I can work with cars." Ethan offered. "You guys just have to worry about the license stuff."
"You can?" Jill raised her brow.
Ethan shrugged. "You can play piano; I can play with my car parts, Jill. I owned a car, remember?"
"I don't…"
"Oh yeah… You were passed out when I arrived." Ethan chuckled. "Well, now you know."
"Alright, settle down." Barry sighed. "I guess we need to find people who can forge those things. Or we could just wing it."
"Wing it?" Chris questioned.
"Yup," Barry shrugged. "Run those cars without proper papers; play it low on the road."
Ethan chimed in, his voice tinged with enthusiasm. "Count me in; it's a quicker route."
Barry nodded in agreement. "Now, about the chores we've got right here. First off, we need a crew to hit town for supplies and groceries. We also need someone to clear those dorm rooms; I ain't bunking with a deer's head much longer."
"Barry, let it simmer a bit," Chris suggested. "Give it a couple of days to cool down; then, we can move."
"I know, but we've got to decide now," Barry insisted. "Hunter, you're on town duty."
"By myself?" Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Who else are you taking?" Barry shot back.
Claire chimed in. "I'll tag along. I can handle the groceries and might lend a hand with the engines. Working on bikes should have some overlap, right?"
Barry conceded. "Fine. Jill?"
"I'll tackle those dorm rooms," Jill replied, rolling her eyes. "Are you sure you want to leave that room, though? At least you won't be sleeping solo."
Barry scoffed. "Fuck you. Alright, one last thing. How long are we holding up here?"
"Redfield's nursing broken ribs," the deputy sheriff pointed out. "You reckon you can hit the road in that condition?"
"Good enough," Chris replied.
"No, he needs time to heal," Claire interjected. "Traveling in that state will only make it worse."
"How long does it take for ribs to heal? Two weeks?" Ethan asked, arching an eyebrow. "And how many ribs have you got left? Half of a full set?"
Chris snorted. "Six weeks. That's the usual; I need to do some stuff with it too, though."
"Wanna go to a hospital or something?" Ethan offered. "And before you say we'll get detected, hospitals can't blab about their patient's identity."
"Even if they can't, it doesn't mean they won't." Chris argued. "I mean, if they broke that right, what are we going to do, sue them?"
"Just go to the fucking hospital, Chris." Claire frowned, which made the man sigh.
"Fine, we need to be careful, though; maybe go at night," he murmured. "So that's it then? Six weeks from now, we're going out of here?"
"I guess…" Barry murmured. "Hunter, six weeks, can you do it?"
"Depends on the material." Ethan shrugged. "If there are no parts, I can't do anything about it."
Barry finalized the plan. "Alright. Plan A, six weeks from now. If we don't find what we need, Plan B, we take more time. For now, rest up, but be ready to hit the grind once those days are up."
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