On the main highway again, near the hospital, leaving the dismal riverbottom forever, Mac eyes the pessimistic message of the gas gauge, but in moments finds it no longer a concern; behind him a cherry top erupts, howling insistently, and as if not enough, another cruiser coming the opposite way careens across that s the median, blocking the Fury. Stopped, by lights.
Mac is soon checking the rear view mirror for his appearance.
As the bullhorn instructs him to remain seated, hands up, he plays a little game, predicting which officer will approach him, pistol lifted.
