Nothing too interesting happened for the next few hours. With Charlie out of the loop, since the man had finally begun to get his well-deserved rest, Troy and Dr Hale were left to their own devices. One of the two went back to sleep within a minute. The other was forced to stay up, due to his body not being able to sleep for that long.

He hasn't adapted to so much resting and waiting around. Troy’s daily tasks had always involved him running around, gathering stuff, never having time to really rest his legs. Now? His legs were about as rested as they could be. After a few bandages and stretches, his body felt about as well as it normally did, only the occasional ache being accompanied by larger movements. His feet had even gotten back to him, responding to his beck and call. Yes, they were tinted red and they did sting a bit, but they worked just fine. Nothing that needed to be worried about.

What was there to do? With Adam back with him, the two had sat in a corner talking about just that. Troy had used sign language, with the AI doing most of the talking. It wasn't like the man could have contributed too much. Most of his focus was on the continual testing of his body. A good test was to always check for the health of the smaller digits. It was what was ignored by the body first when it came to times of survival. Making sure that blood was still circling was a good idea, and certainly, one that Troy was making sure of. With those initial balancing issues, it was even direr to check it out.

‘Time is something we do not have much left of. Our interactions with the locals have been increasing exponentially in the last two days. They know we are here and are doing their best to make sure that they can catch us,’ Adam continued in his ranting. The AI had been getting more detailed in his expositions.

Troy didn't really look at it as a bad thing, perfectly fine with the longer use in time. There was still the occasional comment about time not needing to be wasted on lesser priorities, but Adam seemed to have been more amenable about using the time available to its fullest. Certainly helped to keep the conversation healthy when more than one of the participants said more than ‘yes’ and ‘no.’

‘We have been at a breaking point for a long time. There is nothing we can do but continue what we are already doing,’ Troy motioned with his hands, after which beginning to put pressure on different parts of his thighs. The sides felt a bit off when too much pressure was put on them. It would have normally been accounted for as regular exhaustion, but Troy did not feel like he had gotten close to the normal amount of running.

That meant that the feeling was likely caused by bruising of some kind. Which did make a small amount of sense, seeing as his legs had become a bit more swollen on those parts. Not enough to cause too much inconvenience, but enough that he would have trouble running long-distance. Short spurts were likely possible, but anything more than a relaxed pace for more than ten minutes would be very stressful. There was no desire to rely on his luck, and hope that Charlie just passed by again.

‘It means that we have to be quick. We already know where we need to go to finish our task in this city. There is no more need to scavenge through other stores. We just have to visit one. It will take no more than a night of work, and we can begin to leave this place. Is that not what we are supposed to work towards,’ Adam sent, questioning their goals by the end. Not the most disguised attempt at manipulation there, but Troy just took it as a positive. Or… maybe the AI did it badly intentionally to make Troy feel a false sense of security and make bad decisions because of it.

… Another lesson that had been learned through the many weeks spent travelling was that it was best to not question the AI’s methods too much. There were some parts that just needed to be left alone, for the sake of the wearer’s continued mental health.

‘What are you suggesting?’ Troy signed. He put his attention away from his legs. While bruised, reddened, and more than a little painful in some places, he was perfectly fine with movement. A bit of jogging would loosen up the last parts of his legs, and everything would be smooth sailing from there.

‘I suggest that we make the others pack our things and move out now. If we hurry, we can leave by midday tomorrow,’ Adam sent. The AI’s words triggered the man to look out the window. It was beginning to get into the night now, bordering on what could be called close to midnight. There couldn't have been more than an hour or two until it hit it precisely.

Troy wasn't too understanding of the AI. Leave now? It hadn't been talked about in the group. Leaving without notifying them would be an act of near-treachery. And it would undoubtedly make them worried. That was the important part.

‘I am not sure the others would-’ Troy began to sign, but the AI cut him off before he was able to finish. Adam likely thought the arguing useless.

‘I have already passed the idea through to Charlie,’ Adam notified him. Charlie already knew?

That was… calming to hear. It would also explain how the man was able to finally sleep. He forced his body through it, so that he could carry Dr Hale tomorrow. It all made more sense. Though… Dr Hale likely hadn't been told yet. Would Troy have to do that? She was already sleeping… Charlie could do it.

"Then let's get to it," Troy muttered, standing up. His knees made popping sounds when his legs stretched. The man’s back copied the sound not long after, Troy putting his arms in the air to stretch. Just that simple movement made his body feel lighter than ever.

Now… where was that gear of his? Charlie had taken it off him while he slept, so there were no real ideas about where it could have gone. Maybe it was in his- no, that wasn't possible. Troy searched through his bedding not that long ago, and had found nothing notable. But, where then? He kinda needed the gear, if he was to go outside at any point. While he liked to think of himself as capable, some items were best to have on oneself at any point.

Where were they? Troy searched the room as silently as he could, checking the corners, the sofa, and even the hidden spots behind the boards that they used to hide currency. Nothing. Just where was-

‘Charlie has it inside the workshop. He needed to fix most of it,’ Adam supplied helpfully, five minutes later than it should have been. HAd the AI known the entire time? Most likely. Yet it clearly hadn't known about decency, saying nothing about this knowledge. Not that Troy was fully angry about it, just happy to get in contact with the items again.

During his earlier entry into the workshop, the young man hadn't really put too much attention to the state of the place. Maybe that was a good thing, Charlie clearly not having optimized the place for cleanliness. Parts were strewn everywhere, the sides of the floor having parts strewn across it in the form of small bolts or screws. If Troy didn't stand near the middle of the room, it would have positively been a minefield of pain. Some of the parts blended in with the floor-colouring, forcing Troy to squint his eyes before even getting a mild impression about them being there. Dangerous indeed.

Sitting down on the larger chair, the young man overlooked the table’s contents. There was a lot of different things and tinkering objects. Some moved a bit around, never seeming to have anything that propelled them. What was it all about? What function did the movement have? Troy wouldn't have been able to tell, so there were no attempts made towards that goal.

Instead, the man began moving things around a bit. With it all pushed to the sides, leaving the centre of the table empty, some devices had been forced on top of each other, making those originally planted there buried under the newer devices.

With a delicate hand, Troy began to shuffle through the various devices. The first finds were his gloves. New material was on the surface of them now, a different tint to them. Troy couldn't say he hated the golden sheen, putting them on with no criticisms. The next was the visual distortion.

There had been worries about that one. If it had suffered too much damage, it would have been hard to get through the city unnoticed. Cameras would have picked up his face, and problems would have emerged from it. Like a missile hitting him within five minutes. That wouldn't have been good. And it was a real threat since only the storage unit was needed. His death would prove nothing more than an inconvenience taken care of. How nice thoughts to have.

Lastly, there was the one device that Troy had yet to use. According to Charlie, it would help him escape if needed. He knew it was supposed to incapacitate them in some manner, but just how it worked was a mystery. Troy understood that he had been coded into it, making him immune to the effects, but just what were those effects? It apparently needed a long time to recharge after each shot, so it had to be powerful in some manner.

There was only one real way to know, and the man was not hoping to get the chance. Stashing it in its designated slot, Troy stood up from the chair and walked out into the main room yet again. The other two were still asleep. He hadn't been too loud, luckily enough. Grabbing a small chunk of an MRE, Troy went on his way, out of the door, and right into the wild. Even in the darkness, his body knew what way to walk.

From his travelling to and from the city, a more clear path had begun to emerge. In the start, there were positively no signs of where to go. There was originally a road to the cottage, but nature had grown over it through the decades. It was only through the efforts of Troy’s boots that it had begun to be more clear again. Or well… it was clear to the young man, but there were doubts that the mildly trampled forest would be looked at in the same way by somebody else.

When Troy put his foot down onto the ground, just like he had done a hundred times before. A squishing sound came forth. This was a first in the man’s journey, Troy not having noticed anything like it.

Looking down, there was a… rotting corpse. An animal’s corpse, big enough to stick out from the snow. Parts of its stomach and main body had been cut out with something sharp, likely a knife.

…

The young man picked up the pace, feeling more desire to get things out of the way and leave the place he had called home for the last couple of weeks. Getting over the border was more important than ever before.

They were not alone in the forest.