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She stopped.

Another state trooper leaned down and looked in her open window. He had one hand on her door, the other hand on his gun. Peeking out under that ridiculous cop hat—where did they get these meatheads, anyway?

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said. “We’ve set up this roadblock to do a quick test for a bacteria that may be in the area. Are you familiar with the situation?”

“Of course I’m familiar with the situation. You think I don’t watch the news? You think I’m some inbred trailer-trash hick that watches the Springer show? I know all about the situation, and we’re fine, we don’t have the bacteria. We’ll just drive through, then you can get on with it.”

The trooper looked less than pleased that Bernadette would not be taking the stupid test, but those were the breaks. f.u.c.k him.

“I’m afraid we do need to test you, ma’am,” the trooper said. “It will only take a second. We also need to test your children, but let’s get you first.” He held up a narrow foil envelope. He was wearing surgical gloves. “Please open this packet, ma’am, then pull out the swab inside, run it inside your cheek and along your gum line, then hand it back to me stick-first.”

“I’m sorry, Officer, but are you deaf? I just told you we don’t need to be tested. Let’s remember that my taxes pay your salary. Now, unless you want me to take your badge number and make your life a living h.e.l.l, get your partner out of the way. We’re in a hurry.”

The trooper stared at her for a second. Then he looked at William. Then he looked into the backseat. His brow furrowed beneath the brim of his hat. His eyes widened. He suddenly stood up and took a step back.

His hand stayed on the grip of his gun. “Ma’am, step out of the car, right now.”

He knew. That f.u.c.king cop knew.

Bernadette pushed the gas pedal to the floor. Her Saab shot forward. The state trooper in front of her car dove out of the way. The on-ramp to I-75 was only a few hundred feet from here—she could make it. There was a state police car parked across the on-ramp. Maybe there was enough room on the shoulder to get around it.

She heard a popping sound, like cap guns.

Her car lurched to the left. Bernadette turned the steering wheel hard to the right, trying to recover. More popping sounds. The car pulled violently to the right and skidded. It hit the s...o...b..nk and stopped suddenly, throwing her forward.

The tires. They’d shot out the tires, like this was a f.u.c.king TV show like Frankie Anvil or something. Did they not understand that the voice told her she could go past?

Bernadette opened the door, grabbed her purse and got out of the Saab.

“Down on the ground!” a trooper shouted. More shouts, all of them saying the same thing. “Down on the ground, now!”

They had guns pointed at her. Blue jackets and round hats everywhere, in all directions. They were going to kill her.

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