Flashbulbs went off as I made my way through the crowd towards the gas station. I ducked under the yellow tape, making my way inside.

A covered body laid out before me, an older man kneeling over it, cowboy hat and boots telling me everything I needed to know.

"You must be Sheriff Boggs." I said, extending my hand towards him.

   He didn't look up, eyes still glued to the crime scene. "You know my name, but I'm afraid I don't know yours."

   I lowered my hand, pulling my badge. "Detective Hartman."

   He glanced at the badge before looking up at me, standing as he dusted his hands. "You got a first name, detective?"

   I nodded. "Joe, sir."

   "Nice to meet you, Joe. Call me Peter or Sheriff Boggs, not Sir." He said, sticking his hand towards me.

   I shook it. "Alright, sheriff."

"Tell me, Joe, what's a city boy like you doing all the way down here?"

I shrugged. "Sent by the mayor, he instructed my precinct to help you boys out in any way we could."

He scoffed. "Of course he did."

"Listen, I'm here whether you like it or not, so why don't you tell me what we have here."

   He eyed me for a long minute before replying. "Armed robbery. Two-hundred and fifty-seven dollars missing from the drawer."

   "Who's the stiff?"

   "Ron Doyle, owner of this fine establishment." He replied.

   "Any idea who we're dealing with?" I asked.

   "My guess would be professionals. They avoided the security cameras and didn't hesitate to shoot. They stuck to the cash, nothing more. This wasn't an amateur snatch and grab."

   Just then, a deputy walked up to us. "Uh, Peter, we just got a call about another robbery down the road a ways."

   The sheriff nodded. "Details?"

   "Cash only and we got another stiff." The deputy replied.

   Peter turned to me then, flashing me a little smirk. "Well, city boy, looks like you're coming with me..."

—————

I leaned against the outside of the barn, watching Connie shovel dirt into a freshly dug grave. She was burying Cindy's body.

"Good riddance." I whispered to myself.

   She patted the shovel against the loose dirt before standing back, lowering her head.

   I may've had my differences with Cindy, but I felt for Connie. She had to make a choice to kill her best friend, just to save me. She didn't have to, but she did.

   I trusted her and in this moment, I'd follow her to the end of time.

She wiped her forehead as she approached me, throwing the shovel to the side. "That takes care of that. But, we still need to figure out what to do with the car."

I glanced from her to the getaway car smeared with Cindy's blood. "Our DNA is all over that thing. What can we even do about that all the way out here?"

Connie looked to the car, a slight smirk lighting up her face. "We could burn it."

   "Won't someone see the smoke?" I asked.

   She gestured around the desolate surroundings. "There's no one around here for miles." Then, she grabbed my shoulders. "C'mon, Briar, we're outlaws on the run. Enjoy it while you can."

I looked into her eyes, a slight smile pulling at my lips. "Alright, let's do it."

   She patted my my shoulder. "That's the spirit."

So we drove the car into the middle of a field and doused it with some old diesel fuel we found in the barn.

Connie pulled her Zippo from her pocket. She flipped the lid open and lit it. "Ready?"

I nodded. "Hell yeah."

She smiled before tossing the lighter at the car, which immediately went up in flames.

We stood back and watched the fire engulf every inch of the car before collecting our things and wandering over to the farm house.

The windows were broken out and the gutters hung from the roof. It was overgrown with weeds and vines. Clearly no one's been here for a while.

Connie knocked on the door before opening it, peaking her head in. "Anyone home!" She called out.

Nothing.

She turned to me then. "Go check the garage, I'm gonna see if I can find anything useful in here."

I nodded before heading over to the garage. I forced the door open, seeing an old car inside. It looked pretty well preserved considering how long it's probably been sitting out here.

I ran my hand over the fender as Connie joined me. "Well, would you check this thing out."

"Do you know what it is?" I asked.

Connie walked to the front of the car and wiped some dust of the hood. "Says DeSoto. Probably from the late fifties if I had to guess."

"You think it'll run?" I asked.

She stood up with a shrug. "Only one way to find out."

She got in the drivers seat and pulled down the sun visor, an old pair of keys falling into her palm.

I watched as she put the key in the ignition and turned it. After a few tries, the car rumbled to life.

We shared a giddy smile, piling all of our stuff and the money into the backseat before Connie threw it in gear and took off down the dirt driveway.

She turned back onto the road and pressed the pedal to the floor. Black smoke rising up into the sky as we flew down the deserted street...

—————

We stepped through the door of the second gas station. I immediately noticed a pool of blood on the floor, a trail leading from there to the counter. Speaking of, there was a giant hole blown through it, the clerk laying dead behind it.

Peter walked over to the counter, inspecting the hole. "Looks like our robbers wound up on the wrong side of a .12 gauge."

"That much blood, there's bound to be a body somewhere." I replied.

"So, we're down one robber." He said before addressing a deputy. "Anything on the security cameras?"

The deputy shook his head. "Sorry, sheriff, wiped clean."

He nodded. "Alright, get a sample of this blood back to the lab and call the coroner." Then, he turned to me. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" I asked as I followed him outside.

"We're gonna go find our body..."