You get low and put your shoulder out front like you saw football players do in high school.  If you go for the knees, he’ll just fall down, right?  It sounds like a plan, but that may be because you’re so hopped up on adrenaline right now.  You keep leaning and start to charge in the general direction of where you last saw the cop – and all you crash through is a bunch of trees.  You look around, surprised and a little dizzy.  You might have bashed through a few tree trunks before you stopped, there. 

You flinch.  There are hands on your shoulders.  Big hands.  It would make more sense to say that there are hands around your shoulders.  Your instinct is to look over your shoulder, but you look up because of how tall something with hands like that must be.  “Hey there,” says the owner of the big hands; a big pair of lips connected to a big, bald, egg-shaped head with big arms and shoulders, too.  “What’re you doing running around this private property?  I think you should come with me.”

Private property.  You almost scream at the idea.  But you let the huge cop lead you out of the woods without a word.  It’s not that you’re scared or anything; you just… respect anyone with hands that big.  Yeah.