“Poppy?”
Mom’s head dropped to her shoulder. Her eyes closed.
“Mom!”
Poppy slumped to the side, her seatbelt stretching as she crumpled sideways onto the bench.
I took one hand off the wheel and shook Mom by the shoulder. “Mom, wake up! Mom!” I turned and grabbed Poppy’s knee. “Poppy!”
I needed to turn the car around. I needed to get help. But the tunnel traffic was one way and there was absolutely no way to stop or turn.
Trapped. No way out but through.
My teeth ground against each other as I rode the bumper of the car in front of me.
Had going into the tunnel somehow made both of them sick? Were they food-poisoned? Why not me? What was happening?
“Berron,” I said, fumbling for my phone one-handed, dialing. “Come on, pick up.” One eye on the road, one eye on my mother and Poppy, stricken in their seats.
“Yeah?” Berron said. His voice crackled and sounded far away. Hopefully the signal boosters in the tunnel would keep us connected.
“Something’s happened to Mom and Poppy. We were driving into the tunnel and everything was fine, but then Mom looked sick and Poppy cried out and now they’re unconscious and I can’t even turn around in this godforsaken tunnel!”
“Unconscious? Like passed out?”
“Yes!”
“Where did it happen?”
“In the tunnel!”
“No—wherein the tunnel? How far?”
“I don’t know, not far? Why does that—”
Not far into the tunnel.
Not far to the river.
To the barrier, which kept the Gentry and the Blessed from leaving the island of Manhattan—and now my mother, and my friend.
“It’s the barrier,” I said. “It was when we hit the river. They both dropped like sacks of potatoes.” I shook Mom again. No good. “Why is this happening? Are they hurt?”
“They’ll be okay, I promise. Others have tried to escape over the years—it didn’t work, but they weren’t permanently harmed by it.”
“You never told me that!”
“You never asked!”
“What do I do?”
“Keep driving. The tunnel’s only a minute or two more. Then you can exit and turn around. They should be fine once you cross over again. Maybe a little dizzy.”
“Like your sister? In Battery Park?”
“Yes.”
Looking at my helpless passengers made me want to lower my window and throw up. Instead, I gripped the steering wheel harder.
