Chapter 8 - THE TRUCK IN THE THICKET
Ethan hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder, gently lifting Lily back into his arms.
"Time to move, bug," Ethan whispered, leading her out through a hidden drainage culvert behind the barn.
Waiting in the overgrown tree line was an old, beat-up Ford F-150 painted matte black with mud-caked tires.
Marcus leaned against the driver's side door, smoking a cigarette while keeping his eyes scanning the horizon.
He tossed the keys across the hood as soon as he spotted Ethan emerging from the brush.
"Get in, both of you. The local sheriff's department just received a BOLO alert for your truck," Marcus muttered.
Ethan bundled Lily into the passenger seat, buckling her in securely before climbing behind the wheel.
Marcus hopped into the passenger side, pulling a heavy-duty encrypted jammer from his jacket pocket.
"Plug this into the cigarette lighter to block any GPS transponders left in your car," Marcus ordered.
Ethan slammed the gearshift into drive, turning off the headlights as they navigated the bumpy dirt trail without GPS.
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"Why are they hunting us so aggressively, Marcus?" Ethan asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"Because that black handbag contains proof that the current administration is funding black-ops via stolen social security funds," Marcus revealed grimly.
