"They shot him six times, Zack. Six confirmed hits to the chest and legs."
"And?"
"He got back up. He punched a hole through an engine block and ran."
Another silence followed, longer this time. Stan could hear the television being muted.
Then Zack let out a ragged, disbelieving breath that sounded half like a laugh and half like a choke.
"Okay. No. Hold on. Let's rewind the tape." Zack's voice pitched up, the sheer absurdity of the situation breaking his composure. "You are standing there, as a rational human being, telling me that this absolute coward took six hollow-points to the torso, stood up like a Marvel villain, and went for a jog?"
"That is exactly what the Police Commissioner just reported to me, yes."
"What the actual fuck is happening to the world?"
