As they walked through the town, asking around for a pawn shop. Finally, they found one on the outskirts of town. Buckey hesitated before going in, but Jeff encouraged him, "It's the only way, Buckey. We need those tickets."
Buckey nodded and walked into the pawn shop with the others. The shop was small and cramped, with dusty shelves lining the walls. A grizzled old man with a long beard sat behind the counter.
"What can I do for ya?" he asked, looking up at them.
Buckey stepped forward, clutching his rifle tightly. "I need to sell this."
The old man looked at the rifle and nodded. "I'll give you $500 for it."
Buckey hesitated, but Jeff urged him on. "Take it, Buckey. It's a good price."
Buckey reluctantly handed over the rifle, and the old man counted out the cash. Buckey took the money, looking sad but relieved at the same time.
That rifle meant alot to Buckey, He had owned that rifle for years, and it had been a loyal companion on many hunting trips and travels. He had spent countless hours practicing with the rifle and had become a skilled marksman because of it. Over the years, the rifle had also become a symbol of Buckey's independence and self-reliance. He had relied on it to provide food and protection during his various adventures across the country. It was his most prized possession, and he had always vowed never to sell it. But all good things must come to an end someday, and Buckey realized that he had to let go of his attachment to the rifle in order to help his friends and make it home safely.
The group left the pawn shop, buckey's face looked somber as he held the wad of cash in his hand. Sumo patted him on the back. "Hey man, I know it's tough, but we really appreciate this."
"Yeah, thanks Buckey," Clarence said with a smile. "We'll make sure to repay you somehow."
Buckey forced a smile. "Don't worry about it bud. Just make sure you all get home safe."
Jeff looked at the money in Buckey's hand. "Okay, so we have enough for the bus tickets now. Let's head to the station."
The group walked to the bus station, Buckey walking a bit slower than the rest. Once they arrived, they purchased their tickets and waited for the bus to arrive. As they waited, Buckey kept looking at the money in his hand, lost in thought.
Chelsea noticed and asked, "You okay, Buckey?"
Buckey looked up at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...hard to let go of something that's been such a big part of my life for so long."
"I understand," Chelsea said sympathetically. "But sometimes, we have to make sacrifices for the people we care about."
Buckey nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just hope I made the right decision."
The bus arrived, and the group got on, finding seats together.
As the bus drove into Central Aberdale, the group let out a collective sigh of relief. Buckey was still feeling a bit down about selling his rifle, but the others tried to cheer him up.
"Don't worry, Buckey. We'll find a way for you to get another rifle once we get back home," Jeff said reassuringly.
"Yeah, and we're all safe now thanks to you," Clarence added.
Buckey smiled weakly, grateful for his friends' support. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."
The bus first stopped at where Sumo was getting off, since Sumo lives closer to the westside. He gathered his backpack and said his goodbyes to his friends before exiting the bus and heading towards his trailer park. You could practically hear the barks of his dogs in the night, begging for Sumo to come home and trash sled with them.
"See you guys later!" he called out as he stepped off.
The bus continued its journey, Chelsea's stop was the next in line. As the bus approached Chelsea's stop, she began to gather her belongings and put on her coat. "Well, this is my stop. It was great traveling with you guys," she said with a smile.
"It was great having you with us," Jeff replied, returning the smile. "Take care, and let us know when you get home."
Clarence gave her a hug before she stepped off the bus. "Stay safe, Chelsea. It was awesome traveling with you."
Chelsea waved goodbye as she stepped off the bus and into the chilly night air. The bus continued on its route, with only Clarence, Jeff and Buckey left on board.
Chelsea didn't live all that far away from Jeff and Clarence, so Jeff's stop was up next.
As the bus approached Jeff's stop, he gathered his backpack and stood up. "Well, this is my stop too," he said, turning to face Clarence and Buckey. "It's been a crazy adventure, but we made it."
"Yeah, we did," Clarence said with a grin.
Buckey nodded in agreement, a small smile on his face.
Jeff turned to Buckey. "You know, Buckey, I'm really proud of you for selling your rifle. I know how much it meant to you, and it takes a lot of courage to let go of something like that."
Buckey looked at Jeff, a grateful expression on his face. "Thanks, Jeff. I couldn't have done it without your guys' support."
The bus came to a stop, and Jeff stepped off. "Take care, guys," he called out before disappearing into the night.
Before the bus stopped at Clarence's stop, it picked up another passenger, one in a black hoodie.
As the bus came to a stop at Clarence's destination, he gathered his things and turned to Buckey. "Well, I guess this is it, Buckey. It was a crazy journey, but we made it."
Buckey grinned. "Yeah, it was something else. Thanks for sticking by me, Clarence. Take care, Partner"
Clarence smiled at Buckey on last time, before skipping his way back home
And with that, the bus began moving to the next town over where Buckeys house was, leaving only him, the bus driver, and the hooded man in the dark bus.
Buckey shifted in his seat, feeling a bit uneasy with the hooded man sitting nearby. He tried to ignore his nerves and tried to look out the window, but it was pitch black.
The bus driver, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, turned to Buckey. "You doing alright there, son? You seem a bit on edge."
Buckey looked up, startled. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, I guess."
The driver nodded. "Well, we're almost to your stop. Just a few more minutes."
Buckey glanced over at the hooded man, who had remained silent throughout the entire trip. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
Suddenly, the bus driver's phone rang, and she answered it with a curt "Hello?"
Buckey strained to listen in, but all he could hear was muffled voices on the other end of the line. The driver hung up after a few moments and turned to Buckey. "I'm sorry, son. We have to make a quick stop before I can drop you off."
Buckey frowned, but before he could protest, the bus pulled over to the side of the road. A car pulled up beside the bus, and two men in suits got out. One of them approached the hooded man and spoke to him in hushed tones. The hooded man nodded, and the men in suits led him away.
*Well that was strange* Buckey thought to himself
As the men in suits drove away with the hooded man, the bus driver turned to Buckey. "Sorry about that, kid. It seems like that man was in some kind of trouble."
Buckey nodded, still a bit puzzled by what had just happened. "Yeah, it was definitely weird. But thanks for the ride, mrs."
"No problem, kid. Stay safe out there," the bus driver replied before driving off into the night.
Buckey stepped off the bus and walked down the empty street towards his house. As he walked, he couldn't help but wonder about the hooded man and what kind of trouble he was in, but it didn't matter to him now.
Buckey entered his dark house and fumbled around for the light switch. As the lights came on, Buckey froze in shock. There, sitting in front of him with his head down, was the hooded man from the bus.
"How did you get here?" Buckey stammered, taking a step back.
The hooded man looked up at Buckey with a serious expression on his face. "I need your help, Buckey. There's something you need to know."
"I'm so sorry to bother you at such a late time Mr. O'Neil, but I can't help but ask you, do you recognize THIS KID?" the voice said, as he raised his hand from up under the table, holding up a picture of Clarence.
Buckey's heart dropped as he recognized the photo. Before he could say anything fully, a cloth was placed over his mouth, and he began to feel woozy.
The last thing Buckey saw before passing out was the hooded man standing over him with a concerned look on his face.