I left the compound anyway. Nobody gave me permission. Nobody knew I was gone. By the time anyone noticed, I was already halfway into town.
The ride felt different from every other trip I'd made. Normally the roads were busy with commuters, delivery trucks, and people going about their day.
Today the traffic seemed quieter. People drove a little slower. More than once I caught someone glancing over their shoulder at an empty intersection, as if they expected trouble to appear out of nowhere.
Fear had a way of spreading without making a sound. By the time I reached the shopping district, I understood why. The motorcycle repair shop wasn't hard to find. Half the town was already standing outside it. Police tape stretched across the entrance, fluttering lazily in the breeze.
The front win
