The Pale Rider's estimate had been correct. Bigger trouble arrived soon enough.
On the drive back into the city, Bruce silently memorized the map in his head. Though this city was not as large as Gotham, it was no small town either. There were many main roads and the terrain was somewhat complicated. If he did not familiarize himself with the roads quickly, getting away intact later might prove difficult.
After circling the downtown ring road once, Bruce stopped to refuel. He did not go to a gas station; instead, he used the leftover fuel from the ambulance. It was almost enough to fill the tank, but their fuel reserves were gone now.
The Pale Rider found this strange. "Didn't you say we should save some fuel for later?"
When he and Bruce had discussed their next move earlier, Bruce had indeed said they should keep some gasoline. Fuel was not just for driving; at critical moments, it could be ignited to create a useful obstacle and cut off pursuers.
But Bruce had suddenly poured all of it into the tank. This unusual behavior made the Pale Rider think he might have realized something.
Bruce said nothing, merely shook his head and got in. Once the car was back on the road, the Pale Rider also noticed something was wrong. A group of vehicles behind them was taking turns following them.
To say it again, American police were good at nothing. They might chase fugitives every day, but their skills at surrounding and intercepting targets were actually mediocre. They basically relied on helicopters for the advantage of aerial visibility.
If they could not even handle the rough work of Fast & Furious, there was no way they could be expected to tail someone properly. Using vehicles to follow another vehicle