Stark rounds the car to get in again and starts it up in the same questionable manner. He drives almost mechanically, finding the 101S exit and taking it, for just a second, before merging onto another interstate, and after a few moments, exiting onto yet another interstate, apparently oblivious of the hell-for-leather traffic on all sides as he stares out the windshield with that unfocused look. Wrapped up in deep thoughts, or maybe just trying to remember all the lyrics to Our House, which was playing in the convenience store.

Finally, after about half an hour of rapid street-changing, Stark aims the behemoth onto the I-15, settles back against the seat, which resembles an overstuffed sofa more than any modern car seat, and side-glances at Winchester curiously. "So, South Dakota. Couldn't find your brother?" This is clearly a rhetorical question; Stark doesn't give much time for an answer. "You think the chances of him still being in the country are good?"