Looking at it, the chainsaw seemed foolish. But the G-50 was solid. Gonna get out, gonna find Adam, gonna survive.

Evie gunned the engine, and roared out into the street.

The two freaks jerked her way. Moaned and groaned, and generally carried on. But the G-50 ran through the streets, and got her out.

Later, after she found Adam, she prayed. “Thank you.” She said. “Thank you for getting me out, and keeping me safe.”