"Michael, Ben, hospital, got it," Much said, making frantic hand gestures at Alan who'd emerged from his room, pointing at shoes and car keys. The image of the Sheriff holding a gun to Tuck's head to make him draw Much and Alan to the dungeon faltered a little when Tuck told him bring other people. While the Sheriff could have found out that Ben was responsible for the loss of his millions and so might want to lock him up too, Much wasn't sure why the Sheriff would want Michael, which maybe meant these words were coming from Tuck after all.
Much was still gonna text Francis though. A surprise rat summoning Saint as backup never went amiss. "We're coming," Much promised. "Hold on, okay. We'll be there within the hour-" Hopefully. Probably. Christmas traffic might fuck with them. "You keeping this phone till then?"