"Thomas? Thomas, you get back here, right now! Where are you?"

"Mommy? MOMMY! Where's my mommy?"

"Thomas! You quit scaring me right now. Come back."

"Motherf.u.c.ker..." The guy from the Volvo threw his cell phone down, smashing it on the pavement. The broken casing slid under a nearby car. "G.o.d d.a.m.n piece of s.h.i.t. I've got a meeting, G.o.dd.a.m.n it!"

"That guy is losing it," I whispered to Frank.

Volvo kicked his front tire.

Frank eyed him warily. "Yeah, we'd better keep an eye on him till the cops show up."

I turned back to Charlie and the young blonde woman. She was in hysterics, crawling underneath her car and scratching at the pavement, and all the while shrieking for her missing baby. Her skirt was soiled with dirt and grease. Charlie knelt beside her, his expression a mixture of sadness and bewilderment. He looked to me for help, motioning me over.

"Leiberman," Frank grunted. "You Jewish?"

I nodded. "That's right."

"I got a friend that's a Jew. Nice guy. We play cards sometimes."

I'd heard this reaction before, many times, in fact. I guess it's that way for lots of people-white, Anglo-Saxon protestants a.s.suring them that they have a friend who's black or Muslim or gay or Jewish, and they're okay with it. It's always struck me as sort of weird. I do know it's that way for Charlie, living as a gay man in corporate America. I've watched him go through it time and time again, usually at company functions or Christmas parties, when one of our co-workers has had too much to drink and has to prove how evolved he is by a.s.suring Charlie that even though he's straight, he has a lot of respect for Charlie publicly admitting that he's gay. Either that, or they feel the need to list their gay friends for Charlie. I never understood the reaction, but then again, I'm not a WASP.

I wasn't dogmatic about my faith. I was Jewish by birth, rather than belief. Most of the time, I wasn't even sure if I believed in G.o.d. To be honest, the only time I really talked to Him was when I wanted something. Mine was a faith of convenience. But my parents were devout. And I'd experienced just as much intolerance from them as I had from other religions and races. More, even. Terri was a Christian-a Lutheran, just like her parents. We'd met in college. When I told my parents we were going to get married, they threw a fit, forbidding me to marry her and threatening to disown me if I went through with it. I just laughed and explained that I was an adult now, and while I loved and respected them, I could make my own decisions. Then, when they saw that I was serious, they pestered me about what faith our children would be raised in. It didn't matter to me, but my parents worried that their grandchildren wouldn't be real Jews, since Judaism is traditionally pa.s.sed down through the mother's lineage. I wondered aloud if they'd love their grandchildren any less if they happened to be raised Lutheran. They didn't have an answer. I'd thought that would be the end of it. Figured they'd come to accept Terri as their daughter-in-law once we were married. But they didn't. My parents were just getting warmed up.

After the wedding, they demanded that a mezuzah be placed on the door of our house, to mark Jewish territory. Terri balked and told my mother exactly what she thought of the idea. Needless to say, relations with my family were strained from then on. I'd overheard them in private a few times, referring to Terri as a shikse. It's a term that's usually used jokingly, made popular by an old Seinfeld episode, but in Terri's case, they didn't mean it as a compliment.

After two years, Terri and I found out that we couldn't have children. Turned out I was sterile. Terri didn't want to adopt, and the whole point became moot anyway. Eventually, my parents dropped it.

But my heritage and our marriage didn't cause problems with just my side of the family. Terri's parents got in on the act as well, worrying about my immortal soul. Every chance they got, they'd witness to me about the glory of Christ. About how I had to be born again and needed to believe he was the son of G.o.d, that he'd died on the cross for me. And how I should ask him to come into my heart and forgive my sins, number one of which was being born into Judaism rather than Christianity. It was very important to them that I believed Jesus was the messiah. We'd had several arguments about it. At least they'd never accused me of killing their Savior. But they never missed a chance to let me know about the day when Christ would return to earth and take the faithful home. According to them, Jews-even devout ones-weren't allowed on that ride. They called it the Rapture. I'd asked Craig about it once, when we were out at a bar, and he told me that not all Christians believed in the Rapture. According to him, it wasn't even mentioned in the Bible.

Another shrieking siren brought me back to the present. Frank put his hardhat back on and stared off into the distance again. I wondered about Frank's comment. Was he secretly anti-Semitic and trying to cover it up? No, I decided. I was on edge and overreacting. It was this situation. We were standing in the midst of a ma.s.sive traffic jam. Dozens of people were injured and dozens more were apparently missing. This was not a normal, everyday commute. Frank was just as scared and freaked out as I was, and he was simply trying to make conversation by telling me about his Jewish friend. I let it go, and walked towards Charlie and the woman.

"I'll see if I can find someone with a cell phone that works," Frank called after me. "If I find one, I'll let you know."

"Sounds good."

"Hey," the guy from the Volvo shouted. "Where the h.e.l.l do you think you're going?"

I stopped, turned and fought to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"To help my friend and this woman. Her daughter is missing."

"Bulls.h.i.t. You're not leaving the scene. You guys rear-ended me. I don't even have your insurance information yet. Just stay put until the cops get here."

"For f.u.c.k's sake," I sputtered. "Leave the scene? Take a look around you, d.i.c.khead. The entire interstate is one big scene. Where would I go?"

I turned my back on him and walked towards Charlie and the hysterical mother.

"Hey!" Volvo's shout was hoa.r.s.e and shaky. "Don't you walk away from me. I said get back here, G.o.dd.a.m.n it."

"f.u.c.k you," I called over my shoulder, and then punctuated it with, "Jacka.s.s."

His footsteps pounded across the asphalt. Before I could turn to face him, Charlie was at my side, his fists clenched. Several onlookers watched us warily. A few of them looked excited. Here was something to take their minds off their troubles: fellow commuters getting in a fist fight.

"Get out of my way," Volvo growled.

"Not another step, buddy." Charlie's expression was grim. Anger smoldered in his eyes.

Volvo stopped in his tracks, shaking with rage. "You guys f.u.c.king rear-ended me. I've got witnesses."

"Look," I shouted. "I don't know what your malfunction is, but in case you haven't noticed, you're not the only one in trouble here. Seriously. Take a good look around, man. Something's happened. Something is wrong. People are dead-and others are missing. Now, I'm sorry we hit you, but maybe you should have been paying attention to the road instead of talking on your f.u.c.king cell phone!"

"You-"

Charlie stepped between us, and drew himself up to his full height. He jabbed a finger at the yuppie's chest. "That woman's baby is missing. We're going to help her find it. When we're done, if you still want to tangle, then I'll be glad to kick your a.s.s. But if you don't back down right now, so help me G.o.d, I will f.u.c.king kill you."

"You won't do s.h.i.t."

"Think not?" Charlie smiled. "Try me."

Volvo's fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned white. But he backed off.

"You just want to bang her," he accused Charlie from a safe distance. "Play good Samaritan and then screw her later on tonight."

Charlie blew him a mock kiss. "Actually, you're more my type. What are you doing later on, after they clean up this mess and tow away the cars? Want to have a drink with me?"

Volvo's ears turned deep red, but he walked away. We watched him go as he shuffled towards his car, casting wary glances at us over his shoulder. The sun glinted off his Rolex watch.

"Too bad he's such a d.i.c.k," Charlie said. "He's kind of cute."

I chuckled. "No accounting for taste."

The young mother crawled through the weeds and trash at the side of the road. "Britney? Baby?"

Charlie and I hurried to her side.

"We've got to find Britney," she sobbed. "Her car seat is empty. Where's my baby?"

"Don't worry," Charlie soothed. "We'll find her."

She tried to speak, but her words dissolved into tears. Her nose was still bleeding.

"Hey, Steve!"

I turned to see Frank running towards us.

"Sit down here," Charlie coaxed the woman, easing her onto the gra.s.s. "We'll find your daughter. She's got to be close by."

"Do you think so?"

"Sure." He smiled rea.s.suringly. "With everything that's going on, we weren't properly introduced earlier. What's your name?"

"St-Stephanie." She wiped her b.l.o.o.d.y nose with the back of her hand.

"Alright, Stephanie. My name's Charlie and this is Steve. We're going to help you look for Britney, okay?"

She sniffed and nodded. Frank came up to us, panting and out of breath.

"You manage to get a hold of anybody?" I asked him.

"Cell phones are all on the fritz now, but I talked to a trucker in that rig over there. Nice guy. He's got a CB that's working. Said there's some weird s.h.i.t going on."

Several other people converged on our location and began helping search for baby Britney. Stephanie seemed to regain her resolve.

"My husband's missing, too," one woman sobbed, touching Stephanie's hand. "We were on the tour bus over there on the other side of the highway, on our way back from Atlantic City. I was asleep, and when I woke up after the crash, he was gone."

"Maybe he's helping someone else," Charlie suggested.

The woman nodded. "I guess that's possible." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

I pulled Frank aside. "What kind of weird s.h.i.t did the trucker say is happening?"

"People are missing."

I snorted. "Yeah, I know that."

"But it's not just here: it's happening all around Baltimore; hospitals, schools, offices-everywhere. All of the highways look like this, and the drivers or pa.s.sengers from some of the cars are missing. The beltway is a disaster area. Four planes have already crashed at BWI and they've had a few more reporting that their pilot or co-pilot vanished in mid-air. A runaway train smashed into another one downtown."

I rubbed my aching head. "Let me guess. The conductor vanished?"

He nodded. "Yep. Same with a pa.s.senger ferry down at the Inner Harbor. The pilot vanished and the ferry rammed the pier. And it seems like everybody all over the city heard that trumpet sound, or whatever the h.e.l.l it was."

"I don't believe it." I shook my head, stunned at how fast the paranoia and rumors had spread. It was the same way on September 11th, when people reported that planes were heading for Baltimore's Trade Center and the Aberdeen army base and Three Mile Island and Peachbottom nuclear power plants just over the border in Pennsylvania, and that the government had forced down a hijacked airliner over Canadian airs.p.a.ce-and of course none of it had turned out to be true. Now it was happening again.

"Listen," Frank said, "I'm just telling you what the trucker told me. You said it yourself, Steve: your friend's missing. And that woman's baby is missing, too. So are a lot of other folks."

I lowered my voice, making sure the others couldn't hear. "Her baby is either trapped in the wreckage or lying along the side of the road. Craig too, for that matter."

Frank stared into my eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

I opened my mouth to reply, and found that I couldn't, because deep down inside the answer was no. No, I didn't really believe that. As impossible as it all seemed, Frank was right. People were missing. Lots of people. All I had to do was listen, and I could hear their loved ones calling out for them, desperately searching through the snarled lanes of traffic.

Again I thought of Terri. There was a lump in my throat. "I need to get home."

Frank nodded. "We all do. Don't think we'll be going anywhere for a while, though. Not until they get a fleet of tow trucks in here and clear away some of these wrecked cars."

I glanced around for Charlie, and found him in a thin stand of trees alongside the highway, looking for Stephanie's baby. I walked towards him, and Frank followed along behind me. Charlie looked up as we approached. His face was covered with sweat, and a mosquito was biting his ear. He didn't seem to notice.

"What's up?" he asked.

Frank pointed at Charlie's feet. "Well, for starters, you're standing in a patch of poison ivy."

Charlie jumped out of the undergrowth, cursing. I reached out and swatted the mosquito away.

"Thanks." He rubbed his ear.

"Listen," I said, "I need to get home. I have to make sure Terri's okay."

"Terri?" He looked surprised. "Why wouldn't she be okay? She wasn't traveling in this. She's safe at home."

"At the very least, she'll be worried. You saw the traffic helicopter earlier. I'm sure this has made the news already. But it's more than that. Frank here overheard some things on a trucker's CB radio."

"What things?"

"Something's going on, Charlie. People have vanished into thin air, just like Craig."

He didn't reply. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"Charlie-"

"I know," he interrupted me. "Just don't want to think about it. This kind of s.h.i.t doesn't happen in real life."

Another scream interrupted him.

Charlie looked back out to the road. "But it is happening, isn't it? People are missing. Gone. Like they've been abducted by aliens or something."

Frank pulled a red bandana from his back pocket, removed his hardhat and mopped his brow.

"Steve," Charlie continued, his voice barely a whisper, "Craig disappeared before we crashed."

"What?"

He sighed. "I didn't tell you before because it sounded crazy. s.h.i.t, I didn't believe it myself. Thought maybe I banged my head in the crash or something. Got mixed up. Hallucinated. But that's not what happened. He disappeared in mid-f.u.c.king-sentence, dude. I saw it happen. He was there, and then we heard that blast, and he was gone. Then we wrecked, and after that I was confused, and then you woke up and-what the h.e.l.l is going on?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, man. But right now, I need to get home to Terri. I can't explain it, but I've got a bad feeling. Come with me?"

Charlie, Hector, Craig and I carpooled because we all lived in the same town, Shrewsbury, which was just across the border in Pennsylvania. Charlie was single and rented a tiny efficiency apartment over the hardware store on Main Street. Terri and I owned a house just a few blocks away, and both Hector and Craig had lived on the outskirts of town in the new development that had gone in after the Wal-Mart. The town of Shrewsbury was basically just a bed-and-breakfast for people like us, people who were born and raised in Maryland and worked in Baltimore, but had moved out of the state to get away from the higher taxes.

"Come on," I urged. "Please? Let's go home."

Charlie pointed at the people combing the road for Stephanie's daughter. "But what about her baby?"

"There's nothing we can do." I hated how callous I sounded, but my mind was made up. "Let's face it-they're not going to find anything. Britney is gone."

"They might," he insisted. "She could have been thrown from the car."

"Stephanie's car isn't even damaged," I said. "Her daughter is among the missing. We can't help her. Maybe when the cops get here, they can do something."