In the rearview mirror, the road is cast in the blackest black, but up ahead it almost appears to be daylight. Why? The old suspicion you've long harboured that some unknown person or thing is sitting at a control board, manipulating reality returns, and it makes you afraid.  The roads are still inexplicably deserted and in the distance mist is quickly coalescing into a dense fog your headlights can't penetrate. Unease turns in your stomach, and you press on the accelerator. Every part of you wants to be done with this job now and you tell Phillip so.