Grace considers. Earl would expect her to keep the car, so she says, "Airlift. I don't feel like finding more gas."

Why not? Besides, these people in Kansas might have answers. The sooner she gets there, the better.

She helps herself to several more guns, ammunition shortage be damned, as well as a nightstick, rifle, a few smoke bombs and some Kevlar. All this is shoved in an oversized police duffel bag.

"I'll get the beer and smokes," she grins, walking toward the closest door to the parking lot. Once there, she calls back down the hallway: "Shit, man. I hope your airlift can land on the roof!"

Every Rodent of Unusual Size in the city -- and there's a lot, apparently -- has converged on the police station.