"North," you decide. "At this point, it's just a speed game. And we need the traffic as cover. Let's go."

"Ooookay," he says, and starts to drive north. He chats about everything and nothing, clearly nervous and adrenaline-infused. But you're finding it hard to pay attention...

You've fallen asleep by the time he gets to highway 402, and he apparently decides to go west, toward the coast. It's where he's from, and you can't really blame him. All he really wanted these past few weeks was to get back to normal, back to "home," whatever that was.

He wakes you up. You're parked at a diner somewhere.

You have enough time to enjoy his smiling, eager face for half a second before the windshield shatters and then you're asleep again.