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Having less resources than the Skippers to blow on transportation meant that every jeep in the miniscule service of the Unusual Incidents Unit had that special worn-in feel that only being reused far too many times to be safe could give you. It was that instant familiarity that was the only thing keeping Special Agents Quinn MacAllister (driver) and Darnell Christman (terrified passenger) from death by a blood-laser to the face as they hauled ass through the rocky wilderness of Not on the Maps, Indiana.

The woman firing said blood-lasers was on a BMX bike she'd stolen from a acne-ridden teenager when she'd first bumped into Quinn and Darnell. She'd been keeping up the chase for going on half an hour since then, and as Darnell poked his head out the window to check how she was looking, he realised with some dismay that she hadn't even broken a sweat. He then realised that the woman was pointing a single finger at his head, and he quickly ducked his head inside before the now-familiar squelch accompanied the thin red spurt of blood that shot past the window.

Quinn yelped as another spurt shot through their rear window and splattered messily on the roof of the car, giving her hair an impromptu highlight as it did. "How much more blood does she have to shoot at us?!"

Darnell clung to the side of his door as Quinn's attempts at stunt driving sent them over a particularly rough patch of rocks, throwing what little baggage they'd carried with them up in the air and leaving strewn across the backseat in a scattered heap. "She's been doing that for half an hour, Quinn, I'm gonna guess she's not gonna run out any time soon. How far are we from an actual city?"

Quinn checked the GPS, and if she didn't need two hands to stop the jeep's bottom from turning into a mass of steel wool she would've facepalmed. "…we're off the maps, of course. How far's it 'til we get out of the area?"

"An hour. An hour at least, and even then- do we have enough fuel to get… hell, anywhere? Did we even bring water?…"

"Okay, I regret asking now." Quinn glanced up at the rear-view mirror to confirm that indeed, their pursuer was still there, looked back down to watch where they were going. They were going downhill now, and she could make out a strip of dark grey in the distance that could've been- "Hey, Darnell- you see that?"

Darnell squinted. "Wait, is that… but there can't be a road here, it's off every official-"

"Guess they must've put it in recently." Quinn grimaced and floored the vehicle, causing the vehicle to jolt and jump around with every impact of rock-on-wheels — as they approached, the road stopped being a possible heat haze and started being a definite out. "About to take a hard right, hold on-"

"-what do you think I was doinggGAH-" Darnell bit back a curse as the car swung round and his seatbelt suddenly bit into his shoulders and chest. "Warning me ahead of time doesn't make it any better!"

His complaints were wasted on the distracted Quinn, however, who was staring intently into their rear-view mirror as they headed down the road. "…where's she going?"

"What now?"

"Bike lady, Darnell. Where the hell…"

The woman on the BMX had pulled to a stop a few meters away from the road, and was now cursing and staring into seeming nothingness as she glanced from side to side. While they were getting away from her at alarming speeds, she didn't seem to notice or care: for all she would've known, it seemed like they'd just disappeared into thin air.