Since it was obvious the massive traffic jam made that impossible, Miranda Davenport bit her lip to keep from exclaiming exactly that. Her cab driver seemed as frustrated as she was, not being able to move more than a few feet at a time as the minutes ticked by, and no amount of impatience by either one of them was going to help her get to the hospital sooner. Even from several blocks away, the blue and red strobe-like flashes from multiple emergency vehicles covered the street, jammed so heavily with cars that could only inch along every five minutes or so.

“Subway tunnel collapse must be bad. Hope it isn’t a terrorist attack,” her cab driver said.

“Yeah. Me, too.” The thought of the subway tunnel collapse being done by terrorists made Miranda shiver, but she also knew that sometimes things like that happened from structural decay, and prayed that was the case this time. She also prayed there wouldn’t be too many casualties, and she clenched her teeth with impatience because it might be critically important for her to get to the hospital ASAP. Excruciatingly long minutes ticked by until she couldn’t stand sitting there any longer.

“Listen, I think I’m going to get out and walk from here.” It was still quite a few blocks to the hospital and her trek home had proved that winter had decided to arrive in New York City with a vengeance. But sitting here barely moving felt torturous when the Manhattan Mercy ER might well be swamped with patients, and they’d called her back, anticipating the worst.

“Hang on a few more minutes, lady. Let me see what I can do.”

Like so many of the drivers whose vehicles filled the street, her cabbie honked his horn, and Miranda nearly clamped her hands to her ears at the cacophony. Growing up in Chicago then living in New York City for the past thirteen years meant the sound of car horns usually faded into the background. But after being stuck in the middle of this traffic mess for the past half-hour, it was starting to give her the mother of all headaches. Or maybe her headache was from not enough sleep after the twelve-hour shift she’d just worked in the ER, not expecting a catastrophe to bring her back before she was even home.

The cab managed to move a couple feet before the driver laid on the horn again, and Miranda knew the poor guy was going to be creeping along in this traffic for a long time. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get to the hospital. Thanks for bringing me this far. Here’s extra for your trouble.” Never having had that “extra” in her younger life was something she’d never forget, and even after all this time it felt good to be able to share the wealth. She shoved a fold of cash through the window to the front seat, then opened her door to exit right in the middle of the street. Not that dodging between stopped cars to the sidewalk brought any risk to life and limb at that moment.

The frigid air sneaking down her neck felt practically sub-zero, and she grabbed her coat collar, ducked her head down against the wind, and hurried toward the hospital. Good thing she had on the comfortable shoes she always wore to work, and her strides ate up the pavement fairly quickly until she came to the dust particles filling the air. Then she stared in shock at the yawning hole where the pavement had collapsed in the street, the subway tracks clearly visible below. Her heart tripped into double-time as she watched numerous firefighters and paramedics running in and out of the tunnel. Then she yanked herself out of her shocked stupor, moving closer to see if she could assist.

“You have any patients that need help?” she shouted above the chaos. “I’m—”

“You need to move to the other side of the street!” a paramedic yelled back. “It’s not safe here.”

“I’m an ER doctor, heading to the hospital. Wondering if you need any help here.”

“No. We’re doing okay. Thanks, but you need to move on.”

“Can you tell me how many injured the hospital might be dealing with?”

“Right now, looks like not a lot. The collapse was only in a small area, and not many people were waiting for the train there.” He swiped a grimy gloved hand against his forehead. “Unless something else happens, we’re hoping for minimal victims. Right now we’re focusing on shoring up the tunnel as we search to see who else might be down there.”

The air Miranda sucked into her lungs in cautious relief was cold and full of the nasty dust, and she coughed. “Okay. Good luck, and be careful in there.”

She pulled her scarf up over her mouth and moved away from the hole to hurry on to the hospital, only to be stopped by police officers who were setting up orange barriers on the sidewalk, insisting she cross over to the other side of the street.

About to argue and tell them her mission, she decided to just do as they asked. There were hardly any pedestrians on the other sidewalk to impede her progress, so she’d be able to walk faster anyway. As she moved across the barricaded street, a sound caught her ears. Something that sounded like someone crying out in the distance, and she stopped, straining to hear. Another faint cry had her heart pumping faster, and she hurried around the barricade in the street to see what was making the sound, abruptly stopping at the sight. Had no one seen this other, small collapse in the pavement? Dust swirled up from a virtual stepping stone of concrete and asphalt, leading down into the darkness.

Had the first responders been so focused on the large collapse that they hadn’t discovered it yet? Did they know someone was in there?

She swung around to get the attention of one of the police officers, but they’d moved too far away to hear her. Heart beating in triple-time, she windmilled her arms to get the attention of the firefighters and paramedics, but in the midst of everything going on, nobody noticed a lone woman in a black coat waving at them. It probably didn’t help that this hole was a good block away from them now.

Would she lose precious time trying to get help? Her heart jerked at the thought of going down into that tunnel, but she had to do something, right? Whoever was

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