A/N: Sorry for the delay. I had this chapter in the barrel for over a month now, but real life just got in the way. My worklife realy beats down on my lately and it will for about two more months. Hopefully the stress lessens by then.

Now, for the first time ever, let's answer some comments.

KIITCH: Thank you for your nice words. And in this, you get another "present" snippet. I'm glad that it is not too confusing overall.

TheAssassin2: Well, now you will see what happens next. Have fun.

JP133: Oh, my poor unknowing child. You are in for a bitter surprise (well, not realy, since I asked you to beta-read it, so there is no surprise left)

PrinceOfBlades431: Also thank you for your nice words. And yeah, thank you for sticking with me. I mean, you are the first to comment on this story (aside from someone who commented without an account)

As usual, a big thank you to Optimuspower92, JP133 and DiaH20 over at deviantart for being my proofreaders. I couldn't do this whole thing without you

Without further adoo, let's hop into it once again, shall we?


5th of June 2017, 11:21 p.m.

HMC Workshop, Bristleville, Boarderlands County

That memory brought a small smirk onto Charles' muzzle. Some say that you never forget your first love, and the bunnyfox could confirm that.

Those recollections from his time at the Gaupa farm were clear as if they had happened yesterday. Sad to say, not all of those were the giddy feeling of Lydia, nuzzled in his arms, feeling her bare fur on his and both of them enjoying the bliss of the afterglow.

Charles tried to refuse going further down memory lane. This was the last fork in the road, the last chance that could have turned his life around. He could've lived his life as a farmer, or followed Lydia on her journey, if she chose to leave her homestead to pursue her medical career.

But destiny is a cruel mistress. She had different plans for both their futures, and she'd left no room for negotiation. He got all the strength he could muster to resist the memory of what happened next, to pretend nothing further had happened to bring him to where he is now and to fantasise about a completely different life for him and his Lydia. But eventually, his attempts of fighting back the reality of his past were in vain. All it did was prolonging the inevitable.

The buff bunnyfox could not shift his mind towards what could have been. The past demanded to be remembered, the pain demanded to be felt. Luckily, he found something else to occupy his mind, even if it was just for a short while.

The blaring sound of the sirens outside of his window stopped growing louder. He knew that the sheriff and his officers had arrived. In a few seconds, the sheriff would take his megaphone and…

"Hammer, I know you're in there. Come out on your own terms or we will come in."

There it was.

"Nah, thanks, Deputy Siljan, I'm quite comfy in here."

"That is Sheriff Clawson to you and you know that damn well!"

Charles knew that the 'deputy'-comment would aggravate the red fox, who was promoted to sheriff not too long ago, which made this teasing all the more fun.

And why not poke the beehive a little more? What's the worst thing that could happen? Loss of freedom?

"Yep, I know that, but fuck you anyways!"

"Alright, that's it! Final warning! Come out with your paws behind your head!"

"You see, I am not in a position to do that. My leg stings a bit, you know? Must have twisted it whilst dancing. Why don't you and your playmates come in? I promise that I'll be unarmed. The doors are locked though, and I may have lost the key."

Siljan hated the biker-bunny's attitude. Ever since he'd known him, Charles had been a cocky asshole, never showing any respect to law-enforcers.

"Oh, and since you're my friend and helper, could you bring me a six-pack of beer when you come in? I forgot to buy one yesterday."

"Hammer! I will not tolerate your disrespect any longer!"

"Disrespect? I thought that your slogan was to 'serve and protect'. It's a bit late for the protection part, but I would definitely appreciate a serving."

"I'm done. Whatever happens next, you brought this on yourself." With these words, the sheriff put away the megaphone and signalled his officers to position themselves at the entrance of the workshop.

"You don't know how correct you are, Siljan," Charles thought to himself, a grim expression on his face.

With the absence of any further distraction, the memories came flooding back in. Images of a furious Harald flashed before his inner eyes, accompanied by a phantom pain on his forehead. A scar, once a simple stitched laceration, was the most prominent reminder of the last morning he had been on the Gaupa Farm.

12th of August 2006 4:49 a.m.

Gaupa Farm, Clearwater, Boarderlands County

Lazily, Charles' eyes opened themselves. He didn't exactly know what time it was, but he found it astounding that he was able to wake up before lunch was served, let alone waking up before dawn. Not only was he somehow able to do so, he was even starting to enjoy tackling the day as early as possible.

"This new life really is doing me good," he thought to himself. "Isn't it crazy how you can find happiness in the most unusual places?"

As he would do every morning nowadays, he started to inhale the morning air sharply, preparing for a content grumble, while he moved his limbs into a stretch.

In this moment, three sensations hit him like a bulldozer. Firstly, this wasn't his room. Would it've been, the air would've been much colder, since he always made sure to sleep with the windows open during the mellow summer nights. Secondly, the air smelled different, somewhat sweet, with a strong fragrance of femininity. Thirdly, as he shifted his limbs, someone else moved and gave out an annoyed murmur, which was one of the cutest sounds he could have wished to hear, first thing in the morning.

In an instant, he knew where he was and he immediately stopped his movements. Under no circumstances did he want to wake his new girlfriend up, if he hadn't already.

Lydia, on her own accord, rubbed her face into the bunnyfox's chest, which she had used as a pillow during the night and snuggled her lithe frame closer to him.

"Good morning, Charlie." Her voice was soft, dreamy and muffled by the fur on his chest.

His reply was not with words but with his arms that brought Lydia out of her slumber. He lowered them from their pre-stretch position. The paw closest to the lynx laid itself on her back as he gave her a light kiss between her ears. Afterwards, his free paw gently scratched a sensitive spot under her chin which he'd found yesterday, when they were exploring each other's forms in great detail.

Unavoidably, she stretched her head upwards, to give his digits better access. With her muzzle now pointed towards his and before she could even start a purr due to his ministrations, he planted another kiss on her lips. After he withdrew, and Lydia's purring was well audible, he looked at her face and saw it sporting a sweet smile and half lidded eyes.

"What a way to wake up," she cooed, before snuggling back into his chest. "Five more minutes though, please."

"Lazy today, huh?" Charles said with a soft chuckle, while his paw traced along her spine.

"Mm-hm," Lydia replied and was out a few seconds later, snoring softly.

This is strange. That sound used to aggravate me when my brother did it, but this is the sweetest sound ever. Not only did he think it was sweet, but it relaxed him enough to lull him back into dreamland as well, a blissful expression covering his face

Five minutes turned into ten, ten into thirty, until an hour of sleep passed over them both. They would've slept in for longer, but the bliss could not last forever.

Downstairs, Harald became more impatient by the minute. He had a strict daily routine for himself and for his whole farm, including his farmhands and his daughter. He knew that everyone went to the neighbours' barneque, but it was still too unusual for his little princess to ignore her duties.

After waiting for an hour, he decided to check on her and to wake her up. Afterwards, he would prepare breakfast himself. He gave her credit, since she hadn't missed a single day of work, but sleeping in was still unacceptable.

Slowly, he went up the stairs to her room and gently knocked on her door, as she could be getting dressed. After not receiving an answer, he laid his ear on the door and heard a familiar soft snoring.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the sound and opened the door.

The small strip of light from the hall as he opened the door shone on the bed and what he saw shook him to his very core. There she was, his little girl, his princess, in the same bed as this filthy hobo he had taken in recently.

His blood boiled as his muzzle contorted into a grimace of rage. The next thing he saw, as the door opened wider and more light started to creep into the room, was similar to throwing a canister of gas onto a bonfire. Not only did they lay side by side, her head resting on him, they were also naked. Harald simply exploded. He stormed in, pushing the door open with force,causing it to slam against the wall with an audible bang.

He shoved his daughter off of Charles, he gripped Charles by his neck and threw him off the bed.

"WHAT'YA THINK YA DOIN'?"

Before Charles could reorient himself after being thrown from his nice dream and a comfortable bed, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head as it slammed into the hard wooden floor.

His eyes now wide open, all he saw was the face of the lynx patriarch with his muzzle a mask of fury.

"Wha? Who...? Sir?"

"DON'T YA 'SIR' ME, YA PELT. I INVITE YA IN, GET YA A JOB, LET YA EAT OFF MY TABLE, AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?!" he screamed at the baffled and already mortified bunnyfox.

"Daddy?! No, please stop!" Lydia started to plead, now covering herself with the bedsheets.

A lot calmer on the outside, Harald turned to his daughter. "Keep your nose out of this, Lydie."

"But Daddy, you don't understand!"

"I said KEEP. IT. OUT!"

Stunned by her father actually shouting at her, she couldn't utter a single word in that moment. She knew her father was strict, sometimes his voice could be demanding, but he never shouted at her before.

The patriarch turned back to Charles, his voice nothing but a growl, his face still carved out of fury and anger. "Collect ya clothes from here and get dressed. Get whatever belonging from ya room."

Without seeing any room to argue with the lynx, Charles complied and gathered his clothes, which were discarded on the floor. Just as he wanted to exit the room, the patriarch grabbed him by the scruff and shoved him out forcefully, before leaving the room himself and locking the door behind him. Both of them could hear sobbing behind the now closed door.

Charles got into his room and started to get dressed. His trembling paws and the shock made the task excruciatingly difficult.

In the meantime, Michael himself poked his head out of his room and saw the back of Harald.

"What is wrong, Harry?" he asked with a wide yawn.

"None of your business, Mikey. Go back inside."

"But Harry, I hear someone crying."

"None. Of. Your. Business!"

Every word was very much accentuated, letting the burley fox know that he should heed the warning, as to not suffer any negative repercussions.

It took Charles the best part of five minutes to finish dressing and gathering all his belongings in his kitbag.

Alright, Charles. Harry has always been a reasonable mammal. You go out there and explain to him that you won't take his daughter from him. You will tell him that you love her and you will protect her at all times. Then, you will back this up with the story from yesterday, he will ask Lydia if I'm telling the truth and she will confirm it, and Michael will too. Yes, this will work out. Just be calm, collected and show him that you will not back down, that you stand up for what you believe.

He didn't realise that he was standing in front of the door to his room during his own pep talk. With a sharp exhale and straightening of his back, he collected all of his courage. He stepped out of the room and turned to where he had last seen Harald and what he saw crushed all of his bravery in an instant. Right there, at the end of the hall, stood the patriarch, with a double barrel shotgun over his shoulder.

"Move," Harald commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"No, please, Harald, don't…"

"I said, move!"

Oh fuck, oh fuck, I am dead. I am so fucking dead. His thoughts quickly started to go haywire. Just like the blades of a fan at full speed, his mind was a hazy blur.

Only one voice reached him from the fog that his mind had turned into. It was the voice that saved his life a mere six days ago, when it commanded him to work on this farm.

If he wanted you dead, you already would be. Why would he let you pick up your stuff if he was simply going to shoot you? However, it would be wise to comply for now and to not stand there like a statue, to avoid that he changes his mind.

"Are you deaf now too?"

"Sorry Sir," Charles said, his head now hanging low. Reluctantly and with shaking knees, he made his way passed the lynx and down the stairs with Harald following closely.

They walked all the way from the farmhouse to the edge of the farm, Charles always in front of Harald, who kept his gaze on Charles the whole time. The bunnyfox's mind was still racing in a nausea-inducing speed, looking for any solution to solve or escape this life threatening situation, while his heart seemed to attempt an escape of its own as it hammered in his chest. He couldn't understand how this happened, as he was but a mere kit. He cursed his own mind for telling him to get himself the job on that farm. Hadn't he followed that call, he may still be on the river clearing, hungry, cold, but at least alive.

"Down on your knees, face straight ahead," Harald commanded, as they reached the border of the land.

"Harald, please, think about what you are doing. I… I… "

"Shut yer whining and get down." Charles did as he was told and as he lowered himself on his knees and started to feel the barrels of the shotgun pressing in-between his shoulder blades, he could not help himself. He was terrified, his whole body was shaking and his tears were now flowing without restraint.

As his lower lip quivered and snot started to run from his nostrils, he whispered one word. The one word, he thought, would be his last: "P-please."

Then, two clicks. Nothing more, nothing less. Charles grimaced at the pain that never came and the end of the gun was removed from his back.

"Next time I see your muzzle 'round 'ere, I'll make sure she's loaded. Now GETthe hell off ma' property."

The word 'get' was emphasized with a hindpaw kicking on the spot where the gun was pointed mere moments before. This forceful shove took the balance from the shaking bunnyfox and he landed face first on the gravely ground before him. This, in turn, ripped open the stitches of the laceration on his forehead. This reminder would keep him company for all the years to come, since he neither had the cash nor the insurance to let it be checked and stitched by a doctor, and once the time came where he was able to support himself, the wound had already formed into a scar.

He didn't feel the tearing of the stitches, neither would he care until the adrenaline had subsided. He needed to get away from there and he had to do it fast. Thankfully, his bike was not at the Gaupa's farm, but at the O'Coonor's farm. So he got up and ran away for the second time in his life. He was too mortified to take a look back though. He may be dumb, but he wasn't stupid and he knew that you shouldn't tempt fate once your life is at stake.

Harald watched his ex-farmhand scurry off and turned back to his home. As he looked up to it, he saw light coming from a window on the upper floor with a dark silhouette in said window. He couldn't see it but he felt the angry and disappointed gaze of his daughter laying on him. One moment later, the blinds were closed and the window was dark again.

With a deep and defeated sight, Harald shook his head. "Solvin' one problem, creating another. She will understand eventually." With that in mind, he started walking back to the farmhouse.

Even in full sprint, it took Charles quite some time to reach the Kathy's farm. He couldn't figure out what to do next, other than to get on his bike and find a new place. Or maybe he would go back to the clearing. That sounded like the most logical option for the moment. There was the problem of gas though. The tank of his Michelle was running dangerously low.

As he reached the farm, he noticed that no light protruded from any of the buildings. He toyed around with the thought of offering his work to the O'Coonors, but discarded it. They work too closely together with the Gaupas and if that crazy feline finds me here, I'll have buckshot in the back of my head faster than I can say 'Bananarama'.

No, he decided to keep as much distance as he could. As silent as possible, he made his way to where he remembered parking Michelle and soon enough, he saw her sleek form. He put his bag in the sidecar and pushed her towards the end of the property. One look at the fuel gauge told him that the bike had almost no juice left.

He hated himself for his next couple of actions, but he didn't see any other way. He crept towards one of the bigger barns and checked the doors. They had a padlock on them, which mainly served to keep the doors from opening by a gust of wind, but it wasn't locked. As he pushed the doors open, they screeched as the rusty hinges grinded on one another. Luckily, this didn't wake up anyone who was in the main house.

Inside, he saw a pickup truck, some tools and exactly what he was searching for: three large canisters. The first one he checked was empty, but the other two were definitely filled with something. He popped open the cap of one of the aluminium boxes and took a whiff. The smell of gasoline was unmistakable, as it burned the insides of his nose. Charles repeated the procedure with the second canister and was relieved to find it filled with gas as well. His conscious told him to stop and just leave everything behind, but the necessity for this engine juice drove him further. He picked them both up, carried them to his bike and stole them. After pushing his bike further down the road, until he was sure the engine wouldn't wake anybody, he hopped on and drove back to the clearing.

This was the worst day in his life so far and he knew it. First, him and his first true love were ripped apart. Secondly, he got thrown out and was homeless again. Thirdly, he had a near-death experience and to top it all off, he stole from someone he considered a friend. The fact that Kathy was actually just a friend of his former girlfriend and not very close to Charles himself did not matter in the slightest.

As he arrived at the clearing shortly after, he slouched down on the bench, which still stood there as an open invitation for him and him alone. He buried his face in the palms of his paws and started to fight yet another inner battle, as the fog in his mind started to clear.

He could bring back the gasoline, maybe even before anyone woke up. The O'Coonors and their guests had probably celebrated far into the night, so with a little bit of good fortune, no one would ever be the wiser. Additionally, this would relief his conscience a small bit. On the other paw, this would render him immobile soon if he didn't refill Michelle's tank. Not that he would know where to go, but he knew he couldn't stay forever.

He thought about going to the station and boarding a train. This would mean that he would have to leave his bike behind, which was out of the question as well. Wherever he would go, the bike would stay with him, even if this meant he would be stuck here.

But what if Harald finds you here?

So what? I am not on his property.

Are you sure that he'll make a difference between either?

Well… no… but why would he come here?

Don't you think Lydia would come and search for you here?

Yes… no… maybe? I really don't know.

And if she does, who will be coming after her once he realised that she's gone?

Harald.

Correct. And do you think that he might guess correctly on where to find her?

Yes…

So, worst case scenario, she finds you here, Harald catches you and ends what he started. Here is another outcome: she doesn't find you, but only Harald does, in a clearing, somewhat far away from the city, with no witnesses and an easy way to get rid of the evidence.

He looked at the river for quite a while. He noticed that the current was far stronger than when he had left it. Is that normal for this time of the year? It would be really easy to dump a body in that stream. The water flowed away from Clearwater and who knows when the next town along the river would come. Besides, even if he would be washed up and found near Clearwater, no one really knew he was there. Aside from the Gaupas, Michael and Kathy, he didn't meet many mammals. For all the other citizens, he would be a normal vagabond who got drunk and fell into the water, maybe one hundred miles upstream.

But if Harald is going to finish it, I would have a shotgun wound and THIS would lead to a criminal investigation, wouldn't it?

Then he wouldn't pull the trigger. He would batter you with the stock of the rifle. Once he cleans it, no evidence would lead back to him. Heck, he could use one of the heavy tree branches which lay around here and simply burn it at home. For the police, someone bashed in the head of a bum. The furthest they would get would probably be Cletus, if the sheriff would even go so far.

What do you mean?

Look, with no one reporting you missing, this would be a cold case soon.

This convinced him. He got up, snatched one of the canisters and filled the tank of his bike. He repeated this with the second can and stashed them back into the sidecar, below his bag of clothes. As he did, he noticed a considerable amount of blood on his paw, as well as a tingling sensation on his forehead. With his mind occupied, he hadn't realised that the stitches of his laceration had ripped open. Luckily, it didn't bleed as much as it could have, but now that his mind had cleared a bit, a different sensation nestled itself in his head. A headache that felt like a hammer pounding on an anvil, with his head in between.

Groaning, he slumped back on the bench and waited for the headache to go away. It didn't subside and wouldn't for quite a while. Even after the sun had risen and flooded the clearing in its morning bliss, the pain had not diminished in the slightest.

Giving up hope that his condition would become better anytime soon, he did what needed to be done, even if it was in agony. He got up, walked over to the river and started cleaning the blood from his face and paws as best as he could.

With nothing left to gain from this place, and with the fear of Harald in his heart, he decided that it was time to move on.

" 'No leaving Clearwater'? My ass!" he thought. He then put his shades on and drove off. First from the clearing to the main road, and from there, he headed east towards the still rising sun. His last farewell was flipping off the infamous sign that marked the borders of this town.

12th of August 2006 12:23 p.m.

Savanna Central, Zootopia

Nick and Judy were sitting in their cruiser, taking a break from a patrol through the city. For the last two weeks, Bogo had only put them on patrol. No cases, no raids, no surveillance; just patrols. After they explained to their boss that their kit had run away, he thought about giving the duo a few days off, since their emotional state could easily interfere with their police work, but the old buffalo knew better. His star officers would be persistent and go to every length to continue their duty. So, Bogo decided to send them on patrol. This way, they could look for their son on the streets, while still fulfilling their duty to keep the city safe.

Nick and Judy weren't the only ones searching for Charles, as the chief told every other team to keep an eye out for an oversized bunny-looking hybrid and report back immediately if spotted. Sadly, every search turned out be a dead end, since Charles was nowhere near the city limits and the jurisdiction of all the officers from Precinct One to Twelve ended at these exact limits.

Judy sighed heavily. "Nick?"

"Hm?" Nick replied, while keeping his gaze fixed out of the window.

"Is there any place left where we haven't searched yet?" Not only did she sound exhausted, dark rings under her eyes also told everyone around her that she had trouble sleeping.

A few seconds of silence filled the cruiser, before Nick answered, "I hate to say it, but I think there are just a few spots in the city no one has searched yet and for a good reason."

"What areas do you mean?"

Now, it was Nick's turn to sigh. "Happytown."

"Why Happytown? Our colleagues from precinct five said they've searched everywhere."

"Carrots, there are places in that district not even our fellow officers would go in. Half of Precinct Five is on someone's payroll to keep their snouts out anyway."

"I think I know which places you mean. Do you think the Razorhat gang reformed itself and is back in Westmawster Alley?"

"Quite possible. Or our boy could live down at the docks. There are some abandoned warehouses there."

"Why didn't they look for him there?"

"Because when I say 'abandoned', I mean owned by crooks, or used as a catnip den"

"You don't think our little boy got into drugs or in trouble with one of those gangs in Happytown?"

Nick looked into Judy's pleading, teary eyes, which nearly broke his heart in two, but he knew that he had to be strong when she couldn't be. And even though Nick missed their son as much as Judy did, he was less worried than her. He knew that living on the street was hard, agonizing at times, but not as dangerous as the movies portray. Besides, his son was a Wilde and Wildes always find their way through everything.

So he cupped her cheek and wiped away a single tear that had snuck from Judy's gloomy eyes.

"No, he didn't."

"The fact that his body hasn't washed up on the shore yet was proof enough of that," he only thought to himself. He would never let this grim thought leave his mouth. Even though he loved her, he was reluctant to tell her the darkest stories of his own youth and why he knew what happens to mammals who fall on the bad side of one of the gangs, or a mob boss for that matter.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Let's just say I have my reasons."

"Seriously, Nick. How?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to, Fluff."

Knowing that she would not be able to pry any more information out of him, Judy decided to just trust her husband and let it slide.

"I think that I'll tell Finnick afterall. If our boy really went to Happytown, we need an insider: A con mammal like I was," Nick said, almost to himself. "Any news from the Burrows?"

Judy checked her phone for the thousandth time, in the hopes of getting a text from her mother that Charles had been found wandering anywhere near the Tri-Burrows.

"Nope, still nothing." Her voice was defeated and small. "I want my boy back."

She began sobbing again; a sight that cut Nick to the bone. For the last two weeks, as they were following any leads they got and fished in murky waters, all he could do was watch helplessly as his wife started to tear up in her grief. Not this time though. This time, he knew how to cheer Judy up. With pure determination, he reached over and pulled her into his lap and enclosed her with his arms.

"We all do, and I promise you, we will find him. If not us, Finnick will. If Charlie isn't in Happytown, then our childrens' friends will. Tiberius told me that the whole HiFi-Forge is searching for him. Some will keep an eye out during a tour, and they made a song that runs on every rock radio station from here all the way to the Burrows, as well as three other counties."

"They did?"

"Yes, they did, and Tiberius even gave me a free copy. You wanna listen to it?"

She didn't answer immediately, but nodded her head against Nick's chest.

After both had heard the song, Judy's sobbing had dwindled down to a few silent sniffles.

"Our kits are so sweet. And did you hear Lilith sing? That was gorgeous."

"Yeah, it was: She takes after you. You know, as much as we want Charlie back, we shouldn't forget that we have two other lovely kits who deserve as much attention and affection."

"You're absolutely right," Judy said as she straightened up. "Tonight, after our shift, we will treat the four of us to a nice dinner."

"Awesome idea, Fluff. I will text them right away to check if they're free."

"Oh, and Finnick too. When we ask for his help, it's the least we can do for him."

"And this is one of the reasons why I love you, Carrots."

With this, they shared a kiss and arranged everything for tonight's dinner.

12th of August 2006 5:23 p.m.

Route 66, 10 miles away from Bristleville, Boarderlands County

While back in Zootopia, the family Wilde-Hopps and uncle Finnick, as the kits referred to him, were getting themselves ready for a nice night out. It was not that anyone wanted to stop the search, but none of them could deny that these two weeks had taken a toll on everyone; except the fennec fox, since he was not privy to Charles' disappearance.

On the other end of the horizon was Charles, the seemingly endless road before him. He didn't know how long he had been riding, or where the road would take him. He only made one stop for a smoke and a bathroom break. Oddly enough and in spite of what happened this morning, he felt free. Free to roam this land, free from any obligation, and free from judgement.

Unfortunately, this lonely road invited his mind to wander as well. Thoughts about his family, about his not so distant childhood, his former friends, the laughs, the journeys, the adventures, the…

HONK-HOOONK!

Suddenly, his mind was catapulted back into reality. Before him was the grill of a giant truck. He must have drifted off to the left lane as he was lost in thought. As if his body was on autopilot, he pulled the brake-lever as tight as he could and steered his bike back to the right lane. His reaction had been a tad bit too late or maybe he'd been going too fast in the first place. Whatever it was, the front of the truck collided with the back of Michelle and spun her out of control.

This, in turn, flung him off the bike and through the air like a doll thrown by an angry kit. The last thing he saw, was the gravel from the side of the road coming closer at an enormous speed. With the impact, he lost consciousness.