Chicago
December 31st, 2013
They're all gone.
Aiden sat alone in a grey Cavale, with the tinted windows up and the engine shut off. The snow lightly floated down upon the ground around the car, as it began to frost along the mirrors. He turned on the wipes of the car to remove the snow, and stare out into the Chicago skyline over the frozen canals. He was in Pawnee, and the once monotonous brown of the forest soil was replaced with the dreary whiteness of ice and snow. He sat alone, with the rest of the would-be hikers and explorers in their homes to avoid the frozen winds billowing about. Aiden had no one left in Chicago; T-Bone went into hiding, Clara was dead, and the rest of his family already left Chicago.
He pondered about his life, and what his meaning was on Earth. It was obvious that he would not commit suicide, as doing so would not benefit anyone at all; not him, not his family, and not the ones he had rescued and may rescue in the future. Alas, Chicago was slate already filled to him. The police have him wanted, Blume wants him for his intrusions, and the Chicago South Club wants him for the death of Lucky Quinn. If he stayed any longer,it would be blatant suicide. While browsing throughout the local transportation, he found a company called flyUS had recently built an airstrip some miles south of Chicago. Their slogans and advertisements were rather odd, saying how crappy they were, but Aiden just thought it was to incite humor and persuade others to feel the incompetence of the flight. The advertisements localized to Chicago, however, boasted about the sunshine of a city known as Los Santos, and the wonders of being a part of a famous city, with famous buildings and famous people. Aiden wasn't drawn to this advertisement for what it said, though. He was drawn in due to it simply being another city than Chicago. Yes, he did hear airlines boasting about faraway cities and countries, but Los Santos just sounded better to him.
He turned on the ignition of the Cavale, and started to head down a dirt road frozen with ice. Signs overhead spoke of the nearest cities, but his destination was the airstrip. The airstrip was really all that mattered to him at this point; not that anyone had him matter to them, anyways. The same series of trees relapsed over and over in his vision, as the road stretched onward into a frigid mist. The night fully consumed the sky now, and the car lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness. After some time had past, signs began to spring up in the right side of the road, stating that the newly built airstrip was nearby.
Another life now...it has to be better than Chicago ever was.
He thought of his niece and her grave, still a faraways back. Even though it hurt him to leave the grave seemingly forever, he also thought that it would mend old wounds already figuratively carved into him. Even her mother soon lost most of the grieving pain that came with the loss, but for some reason, it never left Aiden. He hoped that leaving Illinois would help with this.
The arching roof of the airstrip's terminal soon entered his view. He felt for his phone and Chrome revolver, hoping that he would not have to use either of them. He pulled into the parking garage next to the terminal, abandoning the Cavale for good. It wasn't his anyways, and it would return to it's rightful owner soon enough.
As Aiden entered the terminal, a gush of warm air blew over him. Not many people were in the terminal; the ones that were there were keeling over in their benches, sleeping or using their phones while being huddled together. He walked around, before glancing at the Departures. There was a plane going to Los Santos, and he would be boarding it.
He felt for some cash, but he had none. He left most of it in the old Blume containers, and the money that he had left with was spent on gas and food. He felt the phone in his pocket, beckoning him to use it to get a free pass into the flight. He debated with himself over it, before succumbing to the thought of a free fare. Using the local database, he inserted his name into the flight list, praying that the police won't get a tp on his location. He waited and waited, until the plane finally arrived. He made a ticket machine sputter out a ticket for the plane, and he went through the motions of boarding.
He was going to Los Santos.