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It is dusk before you are able to escape from Albany under cover of the failing light. With relief you discover that your roadster is still parked at the farm where you left it, and quickly you climb in and accelerate away.
When you reach Moran you find that the convoy is awaiting your return with trepidation. Because you are so long overdue, they feared that you had fallen foul of Mad Dog Michigan and his bikers. You tell them what happened to you in Albany, and everyone agrees that, with darkness less than an hour away, it is too dangerous to continue.
The night in Moran passes uneventfully and at first light the convoy sets off cross-country towards Abilene. The arid, stony bed of Hubbard Creek leads the convoy southwest, back towards Interstate 20. Shortly after midday you reach the freeway from which you can see the outskirts of Abilene less than five miles distant.
