An outlaw flies down a deserted road that runs straight through the unrelenting desert as a large police force follows him a few towns back. Window down and arm hanging on the door, he puts on his sunglasses and turns up his radio. To him, this is a leisure ride on his way home. To the police, he is a killer waiting to be brought to justice. He stares out the window to see the road is a dead straight. A slight smirk slides over his face as he places a cigarette between his lips. He pulls out a lighter, engraved with the words “The Beginning is the End”. He lights the cigarette a puffs a cloud of smoke out his nose and mouth out the window. This desert is a relentless place the killer notices. Buzzards fly away from an animal carcass as he speeds by. Elsewhere, a hawk swoops down and takes a rodent to be used as an afternoon snack. The sun disappears of the horizon and stars begin to display in the sky. Day quickly turns to night as he is still pushing the old Junker faster and farther than the maker’s of this car ever intended. In the cup holder, he finds his cigarette pack. One left. He quickly places it in his lips and through the empty pack out the window. He uses the last gas in his lighter to light the cigarette, then tosses is out the window as well. From his rear view mirror, he sees the police fast approaching. Overhead, a police helicopter places a spotlight directly on his car as he weaves in and out of the intense beam of light. He ducks his head just as a pistol is shot and takes out his rear view mirror. Another shot is fired and one of the tires on the battered old Junker pops. The car slows down significantly. Soon all of the tires of the car are shot off and the killer is riding on only rims. He finally slows to a grinding halt. Surrounded by police, he steps out of the car and throws his hands up. Barking orders at the killer, the police chief approaches the man, gun drawn, and yelling curse words in between commands. The killer utters to himself and the police chief, Beginning is the End. A swift movement of his hands and dropping to one knee leaves the police chief dead in the road and the killer with a smoking gun in his hand. The rest of police force is astonished at the speed of which this killer had vanquished the chief to which they showed the utmost respect for. A short volley of pistol shots rang out. The killer lay on the road, pistol in hand and cigarette still burning in his mouth. Two more cops lay dying in the sand. A policeman slowly approaches the corpse of the killer. He looks down as blood leaks from behind the man. “Well, boy, it seems this is the end for you,” says the policeman in a triumphant tone. “Oh no, I’m only getting started,” says the killer with his last dying breath. With one last raise of his pistol, one final shot is fired. Five bodies originally stood in the cold silence of the desert. Now, five bodies lay in the still silent, cold desert. A small sizzle sound is heard as the wind extinguishes the cigarette and the light in the desert burns out.