The Highway Held a Second Fire

lungs. “They’re forcing everyone east,” Grace said, staring at the people running past the van. “Blocking streets, changing routes, flooding the feeds. They want the injured on the same roads.” “And then they hit the roads,” Elias said. Kelly looked over. “You already know the next step?” “I know somebody wants the transfer convoy gone before sunrise.” The van’s radio crackled to life. “All units, be advised: multi-vehicle collision on I-93 southbound, possible hazmat release, reroute immediately—” “Don’t buy it,” Elias said, and shut the radio off. The driver glanced at him. “What do you mean?” “The hazmat call is fake. They’re trying to jam everyone into the same lane.”