WHO: Much and Robin WHEN: Friday morning WHERE: On the ROAD, baby WHAT: You know what feels good? Hope, hope feels good. WARNINGS: None!
The Theban Cycle was a good place for thinking. It was crowded with things and stories, bikes and masks and trinkets, a guitar case, pictures in gilt frames and mirrors hanging from the ceiling that he had to duck around, a drawer full of silver spoons – the point was: it was loud in here. Visually. Which meant Much could drift around it looking at things and thinking how can this help us before polishing or dusting it then putting it back down again.
So far he’d decided he was going to buy that bike and start traveling that way, now that it wasn’t a million degrees in the shade. It was quiet and fast and untraceable, and it was going to add some time onto his commute to work because the subway was both fast and close to his destinations but it’d be an extra bit of cardio and endurance and he felt he was going to need both of those things to be top of their game.
Second he’d thought he needed to get his hands on a vehicle. Like the Parsonage’s van, only one that wasn’t connected to the Parsonage in any way. But when he thought about the other things the vehicle needed to be – big enough to fit at least nine people in it but with room for more if they needed it – then he was looking for something more like a mini bus and that didn’t scream inconspicuous, so maybe the better way was two ordinary vans. Something with enough space so that one of them could stretch out and sleep as they were moving, in case they needed to sleep in shifts, in case they needed to get across the country fast, without stopping.
That was one advantage they had over the Sheriff. He was just one man, they were many. They could sleep in shifts if they needed to drive through the night, he couldn’t. They’d gain ground that way.
He didn’t think about how to convince the others to leave, not yet. He just wanted to have a way that if they needed to, they could disappear.
Marian had made her dungeon as their last resort plan and yet, because it was ready, it felt like the only plan. The inevitable plan. Because it was the only solid thing they had.
And Much kept thinking about what Leila had said to him: You're a good person, Much. Don't ever question that. You do what you think is right. He felt fortified by her faith, her words echoing what Tuck and Will had said recently too (only she'd been in her lap when she'd said them, which, no offence to Will or Tuck, made a bigger impact.)
So Much started asking around some of the regulars who came into sell things at the shop. Anyone got a van for sale? Happy to take cash? And it was only a couple of days before someone bit, a man whose brother’ kids had all grown and left home and he wanted to sell off the van and buy something smaller and (to quote the brother) ‘more suitable for a mid-life crisis’. Much biked out to East New York early the next day off he had, and poked the van a bit. It was brown, it had two rows of seats in the back, it didn’t make any weird noises when he started it. He’d done enough long road trips to know the signs of a car close to death and this van didn’t feel like it was anywhere near. It had been living outside for several years, but there was only a little rust on the outside and the engine was good and healthy. The air conditioning even worked.
It cost a decent amount, but then Much hadn’t been spending all his money on free drinks, and had a bit saved up. It was a fair price, even if it did give his saving a heavy walloping.
And the feeling he had when he was behind the wheel? Unbeatable. Not only because he loved being on the road but because this van was something that could be as solid as Marian’s toilet.
Something else to aim for. Something better. Just be you, Leila had told him.
He’d left the safety and warmth of his first home to live as an outlaw in the forest. This made sense to him.
There was still a whole lot more he’d need to get together before it was a proper getaway plan though. There was no way he was going to be able to afford this all at once, but hey, bit by bit (which was better than Marian's brick-by-brick approach.) Extra battery for the van, jumper leads, spare tires. Tents and tarps and sleeping mats so they could spread out on the nights they didn’t have to drive through. Extra cans of petrol so they could make it a couple of states across before daring to show their faces on the CCTV at a gas station. Food, water, energy drinks. Coffee to get them through the day and whisky to make the nights pass smoother. Blankets, clothes. Something to cook on. A first aid kit for each van. Maps. Burner phones. A bag of other useful things like masking tape and bungee cord.
Also, you know... getting everyone else on board with this idea. But that could come.
For now, step one was complete, and it felt so, so much better than the alternative. Much couldn’t keep the hopeful grin off his face as he drove round to Robin’s, since they’d agreed to meet up and talk, just the two of them, with no kicking of faces or anything.
He pulled up outside Little John’s place and wound the window down, and whistled piercingly up at the house to get Rob’s attention.
Then texted him too, since, well, this wasn’t the forest, even if he was feeling more foresty than he had for a while.
Today 10:02 AM
Get your bony butt down to the street, Hood, I got a surprise for you!