You turn and run
away from the police station, away from the sweaty cop and the guy and every
freaky thing that‘s happened to you today.
You turn left and run along the street, going back the way you were
taken. “If I can just get back to work,”
you think, “I’ll tell my boss what happened and he’ll understand. He always understands; good old Joe. He won’t let me fry, not for something as
ridiculous as all this. Why, I bet he
won’t even mind I was late with a story like this to tell the guys. They do always love a good story during lunch
break.” During all of this thinking, you
notice a police car gliding toward you, the driver looking at you funnily. You bolt right off the street, rustling
through a bunch of uncut foliage until you reach- a sheer cliff? This must be a nightmare! What’s a thirty-foot-high drop-off doing in
the suburbs? It’s a drop right into the
dirt, too; there isn’t even a river down there to break your fall… but it’s
either that or take your chances in the foliage with that cop right on your
tail. You
