Unfortunately, behind you is exactly where you don't want Walter White to be. Walt stomps out of frame towards his car... then comes stomping right back, and even the most elementary of viewers knows what he's coming with. Back in Mike's car, he checks the bag and sees that the holster is there, but the gun is gone. By the time he realizes, it's too late, as Walt runs up to the driver's side window and fires a bullet into Mike. Not sure where it hit, but Mike's able to drive off... if only for a moment. The car careens into some bushes and stops. Walt chases it down, but when he gets there, Mike's gone. Oh my god! He's like some non-giving-up school guy! Sadly, no, he's just a guy. An old guy, at that. An old guy with a bullet in his torso.
Walt follows down to the creek, where Mike has perched himself on a rock, looking out at the water in a daze, barely conscious. You expect Walter to coldly finish the job, take out his longtime nemesis. But he's actually... regretful? Apologetic? He takes the gun from Mike's catatonic hand and says, genuinely sorry: "I just realized that Lydia has the names. I can get them from her. I'm sorry, Mike. This whole thing could have been avoided." It's a good thing that Mike can die knowing that his every ugly thought about Walter -- that he's a hotheaded amateur who isn't half as clever the master criminal as he thinks he is -- is completely true. I love these moments where the show allows Walt to be less than Scarface again. Mike tells him to shut the fuck up and let him die in peace. And so, on that rock, staring out at that creek, he does. "[Soft Thud]," the captions say as Mike falls off the rock. I had a feeling we'd get to this point before this set of eight episodes was over, not that I'm happy about it. Most horrifying of all: Lydia outlived Mike. How to even process that?
Joe R will be collecting money for the Kaylee Ehrmantraut Foundation for the foreseeable future. Shoot him a dollar, huh? He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at email@example.com.