100 miles. 200 miles.
Gotta keep going. Gotta keep going.
Any where but there.
Away from him.
Out of California. Past Arizona. Past New Mexico. Into Texas.
Texas seemed good for now. He always had wanted to go to South Padre Island. It'll be his own late Spring Break. Except better.
He wouldn't stay long. Couldn't risk being found and forced back there.
He'd move on to somewhere else. New York is nice and busy.
Who said he had to stay in the US though?
His bike and the road was all he needed.
He could drive all day long.