The magic bus was equipped with four wheel drive, snow tires and a furnace – all they would need for the next leg of their freedom ride. Escape was not inevitable, but had been well planned out, after months of deathly uncertainty. Determined to carry out her plan, Samantha hid the van at destination #2, the abandoned farm house on highway #28. Hidden in the far reaches of the property was her beloved police car, immaculate in its deception. Quickly donning the police uniform and identification, the roar of the engine, gave her strength.
Authenticity and calm were her only allies as she skirted the hospital parking lot, before confidently approaching the entrance and nodding discreetly to the attendant. The elevator. The fourth floor. Room 468. Under guise of 40 years of determined love and devotion, an invincible strength emerged, which enhanced her ability to lift Matt into the wheelchair, cover him in a blanket and head hastily and directly to the exit.
Disciplined strides, that provided no inkling of her intent, combined with a genuine look of concern, allowed the quick access to the awaiting police vehicle, which silently and stealth-like approached the darkened night with nary a sound. In cover of darkness and camouflage, Sam easily moved Matt from the vehicle to the Magic Bus; burying the cop car into the hole she had dug for this purpose some months ago.
Matt lay silent, eyes glazed, motionless, as she eased him into the awaiting comfort, she had been planning since his descent into the abyss that was the local hospital. Time was all they had.