The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 139: Trips

Chapter 139: Trips

Odd, but the angel thought there'd be less snow in the hills of West Virginia.

In fact, there was more of it, and it was slick. And there wasn't much vertical space so you went sliding right along with it.

Aziraphale made a mental note that if these treks were any indication of his future life in this brave new world his corporal form would need more attention. Its odometer must be thru the roof, and it was the only model available. He had to get better milage. Maybe his walks helped to that goal.

He was growing to enjoy the frequencies of his strolls. But not this: a nonstop incline through mud-sleeted bramble. And this time he had a reason.

Oh yes, could have taken the bookshop there. But they thought better of it. Never can be too sure with the tyrant's reputation, so they set it as close as they dared and took the route by rented vehicle. Olivia suggested a mountain horse, like the kind Roy Rogers had, gentle with a sure and comfortable gait, bred for these parts. Regardless, she got a solid no from the angel and demon, and that was that.

So, they took ATVs through creeks and forest. And to sooth Anathema's displeasure and Gary's discretion, Aziraphale miracled their tracks away leaving the wildlife untouched.

Marjorie and Crowley enjoyed the ride. Shadwell, Newt, and the angel did not.

Finally, they arrived into more challenging terrain, and hid the vehicles, then hiked their way through the trees. The climate was a funny thing. It was all so wet. Not jungle wet. Cold wet. And no one had told the bugs it was winter, so they introduced themselves whenever possible to an annoying degree.

At one point, the parties split in two, and Gary took the lead, handing out walkie talkies and other supplies, and slung a curious rug sack over his shoulder telling Newt to stay as far away from it as he could. Then he checked some instruments, and listened about, then warily headed out with his recon team while the others waited.

And timed intervals they communicated, and the second team followed safely up behind.

Gary was taking extreme precautions. Didn't want to bump into a local, who would know these parts like the back of their hands, or worse an out-of-state camper, who didn't. And remoteness didn't guarantee cover because humans can live ANYWHERE and some prefer it that way.

The trek was seven miles with multiple stops: they were crawling. It was nearly over. The first party had arrived at their destination and given the go ahead for the others to follow. But why is it that the closer you get the end, the further away it seems?

Grumbling and achy, Aziraphale took one more step up the hill, then paused. The rest of his party wasn't in step. Gaining his balance, he awkwardly turned around at the waist to see them standing behind him, staring.

Through the whole trip he had felt the little witch's eyes boring a hole into his back. None of them spoke much out of caution. And Anathema was practical to a fault. But something had been eating away at her, and now that they were so close, she couldn't take it any longer and had to get it out in the open.

His ears perked up to hushed inquires, a few giggles, and "Go on, ask him," from Crowley. And they paused, and he regarded them with slight distain.

Anathema's face begged a question.

"What?" he asked.

"Where. The. Hell. Did you buy that getup?" she stated.