Chapter 23: Scrapyard Deal

Early afternoon cast long shadows as Ethan and Claire strolled down the dusty path, slipping through the iron gates of the scrapyard. It was a grim place, with heaps of metal piled high in the center, crushed cars huddled to the side, and used oil barrels tucked away by the fences.

For the moment, it was deserted, devoid of watchful eyes or vigilant caretakers, a bit too perfect for their liking. "So, what's the game plan?" Claire inquired. "All I see are crushed cars."

"Probably in the back, where the crusher machine is," Ethan replied.

"This place is like a maze of junk," Claire muttered. "Alright, to the back we go. Let's move."

They pressed on, navigating through unprocessed metal stacks and scanning their surroundings. A broken grass cutter, old tube televisions, a dishwasher, and even some forlorn pony toys littered the scene. The air bore the peculiar scent of urine and decay, an unsettling mix. Suddenly, Claire's gaze fixated on something at the side – a motorcycle engine she recognized.

"Holy smokes," she murmured, approaching it. "Who in the world tossed this gem aside?" Claire inspected it, assessing its condition. "Looks decent. I could probably restore it in a day or two."

"Familiar with it?" Ethan inquired, drawing near.

"Familiar?" Claire scoffed. "This engine's a twin to what's used in my bike!"

"Well, that's a real shame," Ethan chuckled. "I don't see any bikes missing an engine around here."

"Yeah," Claire sighed. "Would've snagged it if there's one. I won't be cruising to Chicago with you all inside a cramped car, that's for sure." She stood up, hands on hips, giving the engine a final glance before turning away. "Maybe I'll come back for this beauty later."

The duo continued their trek, passing beyond the trash piles into another section of the scrapyard. There, a massive machine ruthlessly crunched cars that had been stacked up for demolition. At the helm was a solitary operator.

Ethan examined the cars on the side, most of them ancient or picked clean of parts. He approached the machine's operator and rapped on the door. The man acknowledged Ethan, raised an eyebrow, and halted the machine. He opened the door and stepped away from the controls.

"What can I do for you?" the operator inquired, leaning against the wall with folded arms.

"We were hoping to buy one of these cars," Ethan got straight to the point. "Seems a shame to send them all to the scrap heap, you know?"

The operator let out a sigh. "Sorry, pal, not gonna happen."

"But why?" Claire questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"Policy. These cars are slated for recycling," the operator explained. "You're not the first folks to try this. But I can't help. If you're looking for a used car, hit up a dealership. They'll have what you need."

"Can we make a deal?" Ethan offered. "We really need it."

"And I need this gig," the operator countered. "I can't assist you, sorry, buddy."

"Alright," Ethan muttered. He scanned the area, searching for alternatives. "Let's try a different angle. You got a car?"

The operator scowled. "What's it to you?"

Ethan shrugged. "Just curious."

"That's none of your business," the operator scoffed, heading back to the controls. "Just beat it, pal, before I call security."

"No security around here," Ethan muttered under his breath, watching the operator return to his console and resume his work.

"True," Claire mused. "What's our move now?"

Ethan pondered for a moment, then sighed. "I've got an idea."

Claire arched an eyebrow. "A good idea?"

Ethan chuckled and shook his head confidently. "Definitely not."

---

Under the cover of night, Ethan and Claire found themselves nestled in an old car. They hadn't bothered to ask about the model; it had front and back seats, suitable for five or six if they squeezed in. Darkness enveloped them as they traversed a dirt road, surrounded by a dense forest. Neither of them was behind the wheel; someone else was at the helm.

"So, you're Travis, right?" Ethan, seated in the front passenger seat, initiated the conversation. "Thanks for the lift, man."

"No problem, brother," the man, the same operator from earlier, replied. "If you needed a ride, you should've just asked. No need to beat around the bush trying to buy cars."

"Well, I didn't want to trouble you," Ethan responded. He glanced back at Claire, prompting an eye-roll from her. Ethan simply shrugged in response, chuckling.

"Trouble me? Nah, it's no trouble at all," Travis grinned. "Always happy to help."

Suddenly, Claire's hand touched Ethan's shoulder. He turned to the backseat to find her pointing to her head, silently urging him to read her thoughts.

'Why didn't you think of this earlier?' she shot him a reproachful glare.

Ethan transferred his thoughts in reply. 'Because this way, we'd have extra baggage. If an assassin shows up, he might end up dead, you know? This is the quicker option.'

'So, we have more time now,' Claire continued. 'We already have a car.'

'We need at least one more,' Ethan rolled his eyes. 'Unless you want to sit on my lap all the way to Chicago?'

Claire snorted at the thought. 'Whatever. Just contact Jill or someone; let Chris know we're on our way.'

Ethan sighed. 'Aye-aye, Ma'am.'