You pull your gun and let loose with two slugs into Skinny's chest and he goes down, ass backward, convulsing and spitting blood. You leap to your feet and take out over the mesa. Nines start popping as the sky opens up in a crack of purple thunder and you tumble headlong, sixty feet down a steep canyon.

You lie on the ground, blood mixing with your sweat. The voices of your pursuers call in the distance. "We found it, leave the car and forget about that punk. We'll write it off as a robbery later. Let's go."

You feel your jacket pocket and know they ain't got a thing. Just the library maps to the aquaducts and meaningless test codes. Stupid bastards. The rain stops.

You know you have 3 choices:

1. Follow the bastards and figure out what their game is.

2. Go to the local sheriff for help.

3. Forget the whole thing happened and just keep going.