on the main road leading in and out of Red Lake, a low, soft rumbling sound would be heard by those on the sidewalk. Red Lake was a small Community, there wasn't much that didn't go on there, that eventually by the end of the day if everyone in town didn't know, then you were lucky. and right now most were curious to know what the sound was, mainly those curious ones that took it upon themselves to be nosey, about everyone and everything. Riding up the road, going at a good speed for the Rider, but more then likely way to fast for those around came a Sleek, Black Motorcycle sped forward, its Rider decked out in black pants, boots and jacket, the Helmet he wore concealed his face completely, so no one would have any idea as the Rider and Bike flew on by. Townies gawking in shock and awe.. for about a moment and then out came the phones and the fingers went a flying as the texts began about some maniac driving through the road going way to fast, on a Motorcycle of all things.
Hitting the first stop sign, he slowed down, hitting his turn signal even as he checked, before pulling out.. the bike idled gently, sounding like a purring cat, but once the throttle was hit, it revved to sound more like a toy remote car, but it was far from that as it took off down the road now, gaining speed quick. on the back, strapped down on the cone was a duffel bag, Military Green.. everything he owned, inside that bag and carrying him through his old town. he'd not been home in six years, and really the place didn't look like it changed..at all. well, except for one thing. he zigged and zagged through the streets, maintaining the proper speed limit, so as not to bring out the local Barney Fifes or anything like that he came to a stop at the local cemetery, and being respectful, he found where he needed to go, and then drove up in the walking path, never once driving over a grave he stopped at a semi freshly disturbed one. he shut the bike off, kicked out his kick stand and dismounted, leaning the bike over in the process. unstrapping his helmet, pulling it off the Rider of the 'Death Trap' turned out to be none other then Kade Graham. steel blue eyes, his hair Military Crew Cut, but it was growing back out. his chin and cheeks held light spraying of stubble, having not shaved in a couple days. he sat the helmet on the seat before he moved forward, and knelt at the foot of the grave, which was stuffed between two others. "Grams" he closed his eyes a moment. once he got back state side, he'd heard the news, his grandmother had passed away. his last living relative that he knew of and she was gone. "im sorry i wasn't here in the end, i wish i could go back and been there for you" he smirked. "even if you were glad i was over there 'kicking Terror's ass' as you liked to put it when i could call" removing his glove from his left hand he placed it on the grave, closing his eyes. "im going to miss you Grams.. a lot" clearing his throat he rose and moved up between them, to the headstone on the right of her, he leaned down kissing the top of it. "Pops, looking good" his grandfather, who'd passed away five years after Gabe had came to live with them. he then went to the other two on his grandmother's left. "mom, Dad" kissing the top of each headstone as well. "i'll be around a lot more" giving one last look, he nodded, and moved back to his bike, pulling his glove back on, then slipping the helmet on, he started the Motorcycle, and slowly backed it back down the walking path, looking over his shoulder the whole time til he hit the street, and then he turned around and headed away.
Driving back through these streets again, it brought back a lot of memories.. some bad, most good though.. he had a good life here, and to be honest he wouldnt have changed it for anything.. he learned a lot of things from his grandmother and his Pops. he just hadnt been one of those to stay here, he wanted to get out of Red Lake, explore the world and the Marines had offered that in spades, and he'd joined up right after graduation, and for Six years that what he did.. he became part of "the few, the proud" and well the last year, had been something that not even the Marines could train someone for, which is partly of why he was back home now. he came to a stop light.. one of few in the small town and waited for it to turn green. he leaned back, straightening his back as he turned his head, looking toward some kids out crusing and he smirked, remembering when he was right there with them, though he wasnt crazy enough to try intimidating a guy on the fastest production bike they make. the 2015 Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R had held that title since the year 2009.
he had to look odd, standing there, in black jeans, boots, a black leather jacket and helmet with a gold symbol painting on the front and sides, he didn't even raise his Visor, he kinda wanted to see what they'd do.
Hitting the first stop sign, he slowed down, hitting his turn signal even as he checked, before pulling out.. the bike idled gently, sounding like a purring cat, but once the throttle was hit, it revved to sound more like a toy remote car, but it was far from that as it took off down the road now, gaining speed quick. on the back, strapped down on the cone was a duffel bag, Military Green.. everything he owned, inside that bag and carrying him through his old town. he'd not been home in six years, and really the place didn't look like it changed..at all. well, except for one thing. he zigged and zagged through the streets, maintaining the proper speed limit, so as not to bring out the local Barney Fifes or anything like that he came to a stop at the local cemetery, and being respectful, he found where he needed to go, and then drove up in the walking path, never once driving over a grave he stopped at a semi freshly disturbed one. he shut the bike off, kicked out his kick stand and dismounted, leaning the bike over in the process. unstrapping his helmet, pulling it off the Rider of the 'Death Trap' turned out to be none other then Kade Graham. steel blue eyes, his hair Military Crew Cut, but it was growing back out. his chin and cheeks held light spraying of stubble, having not shaved in a couple days. he sat the helmet on the seat before he moved forward, and knelt at the foot of the grave, which was stuffed between two others. "Grams" he closed his eyes a moment. once he got back state side, he'd heard the news, his grandmother had passed away. his last living relative that he knew of and she was gone. "im sorry i wasn't here in the end, i wish i could go back and been there for you" he smirked. "even if you were glad i was over there 'kicking Terror's ass' as you liked to put it when i could call" removing his glove from his left hand he placed it on the grave, closing his eyes. "im going to miss you Grams.. a lot" clearing his throat he rose and moved up between them, to the headstone on the right of her, he leaned down kissing the top of it. "Pops, looking good" his grandfather, who'd passed away five years after Gabe had came to live with them. he then went to the other two on his grandmother's left. "mom, Dad" kissing the top of each headstone as well. "i'll be around a lot more" giving one last look, he nodded, and moved back to his bike, pulling his glove back on, then slipping the helmet on, he started the Motorcycle, and slowly backed it back down the walking path, looking over his shoulder the whole time til he hit the street, and then he turned around and headed away.
Driving back through these streets again, it brought back a lot of memories.. some bad, most good though.. he had a good life here, and to be honest he wouldnt have changed it for anything.. he learned a lot of things from his grandmother and his Pops. he just hadnt been one of those to stay here, he wanted to get out of Red Lake, explore the world and the Marines had offered that in spades, and he'd joined up right after graduation, and for Six years that what he did.. he became part of "the few, the proud" and well the last year, had been something that not even the Marines could train someone for, which is partly of why he was back home now. he came to a stop light.. one of few in the small town and waited for it to turn green. he leaned back, straightening his back as he turned his head, looking toward some kids out crusing and he smirked, remembering when he was right there with them, though he wasnt crazy enough to try intimidating a guy on the fastest production bike they make. the 2015 Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R had held that title since the year 2009.
but these kids thought they were something, revving the car up beside him he turned forward and leaned backdown.. he had a straight shot toward the B&B, wanting to let Sarah and his Husband know and see if they could help me out with his grandmothers house.. well technically his house now.. mainly he wanted to see if they'd head to get some groceries.. he didn't know if Pop's old truck still drove or now and carrying food on a Motorcycle wasn't easy. he revved his bike up, sending the RPM's spiking upward fast as he held the clutch in and shifted down to first, waiting. his eyes narrowed behind the visor on his helmet.. and the moment that light turned green he gunned it, releasing the clutch and the front of the motorcycle shot straight up as it took off forward, Wheeling for about twenty feet til he dropped it down and blew the little punks in the dust.. hitting eighty in no time as he flew down the road. the speedometer hitting a hundred before he saw the B&B coming up, that he slowed down, laughing inside the helmet the whole time as he pulled up into the drive just as he saw people coming out the front door. still chuckling he waited, watching as the kids drove by in their car. "serves their young asses right" he said as he shut the bike off, taking the keys and climbing up as he made the climb up the porch and opened the door, though the ringing bell was new since the last time he was here, he walked in and moved around and looked into the kitchen, seeing Sarah, her Husband Seth and the back of someone else, though he wasn't sure.. probably another guest.
he had to look odd, standing there, in black jeans, boots, a black leather jacket and helmet with a gold symbol painting on the front and sides, he didn't even raise his Visor, he kinda wanted to see what they'd do.
these Chucks...
...with this outfit.
