Francis slowed at an intersection and read the signs.
'Twenty-five kilometers. Not far.'
The road leading to the city's central district was already in sight. Still, his focus stayed fixed on one name—Vance.
Before killing everyone in the compound, he gathered enough information to triangulate where his target was most likely to be.
He decided to head to the nearest hideout, which was also the largest one,
Francis revved the throttle and rode on. The straight road let him pick up speed easily, and the almost nonexistent traffic gave him the perfect chance to test how much power he could squeeze from his machine.
Vrrrmmm—
The cold wind cut across his face, and for a brief moment, it slowed his thoughts and eased the tension in his mind.
.
.
.
Fifteen minutes later, he reached his destination.
An abandoned train hub stood ahead, sitting far from the main flow of the road.
The place had once handled heavy rail traffic, but time had stripped it down.
