The dark night swept over the sky, the moon hanging there as if by a thread, the stars accompanying it and every other living soul's existence. A long yet dark road, and a sleek black and silver motorcycle drove. A slim but slightly sturdy looking figure sat on the motorcycle, a black helmet covering his face. The way he was driving, looked odd, as he had handcuffs attached on his wrists. Yet he still found a way to ride his motorcycle. The visor blocked his face, so no facial features could be seen. He looked down at the gas gauge, seeing the needle was reaching towards empty. He kept driving on, remembering the scene that happened back at the Station.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"You're a stubborn one, aren't you, boy?" the Sheriff spoke, his hands behind his back as he  paced around his desk and Brian. He was a serious man who did his job right. The possibilities of finding out that Brian was innocent, about 1 in 10. And Brian just happened to be that 1. "Sir, If I may speak..." Brian started to say, keeping his eyes on the Sheriff. "You may..." he said, going back to his side of the desk. "Well.. Would you honestly assume that I am convicted of causing that murder?" The Sheriff stared at him for awhile, wondering what this boy was talking about. "I know it was you. You were with the body." he stated. "But sir, how can I kill a man?" "You have his blood, boy!" the Sheriff shouted, grasping Brian's wrist, holding them up to reveal the blood. His wrists were linked by cuffs. "We did a DNA test, and it was the same!" "How can you accuse me of something I didn't do, Sheriff!" Brian shouted back. The Sheriff pulled his gun out of his holster and aimed it at the ceiling, firing a round to shut Brian's mouth. He leaned over the desk slowly, setting the gun down on the table. "Now listen here, boy..." he started to speak. "You don't question me. I'm the one questioning you. And I say that you were there on the night of the shooting, and you have his blood. What more is there to say?" Brian kept quiet, not sure what to say.<br/><br/>"Best you speak this out to the court..." Sheriff picked up his gun and put it back into the holster, then walked off. Brian sat there in his chair, staring ahead of him at the wall, his eyes wide. Upon that note, when two Officers came to take him away, he elbowed both of them, running out the door and around back to find his Motorcycle. He pulled the key out of his pocket, put it in, started the ignition and took off. One would think that the cops would keep up. But the rule of the city was that no cop car was to leave the city limits. Let the cops out there deal with him.</span><br/><br/>His motorcycle started to slow down, eventually coming to a stop in a town. It looked empty, abandoned even. Not a soul in sight. He got off his motorcycle, and led it over to a nearby gas station. He propped his bike up and reached into his pocket, finding the key to unlock the cuffs. Lucky to have stolen it while he could earlier. He unlocked the cuffs and threw them aside. Taking his helmet off, he set it on his bike, looking around for a bit. Where was everybody? The lights in the gas station shop were on though. Brian decided to see if the gas machines worked, putting money in and taking the gas pump to fill up his tank. While that was going, he kept glancing around him, and then at the small store.<br/><br/>When the tank was filled, he pulled the pump out and set it back, receiving his receipt and put it into his pocket. Then he moved his motorcycle toward the front of the shop, parking it in a parking spot. Then he slowly went to the front doors of the shop, opening it and walking inside. Nobody at the register, nobody in the shop. The lights were on though. He decided to browse the shop for a bit while he was at it. Scanning the shelves for a bit.