Brighton Highway Toll Station.

It was just a regular Saturday—not a holiday or anything—but traffic was backed up like a parking lot.

Maxwell felt the bus slow to a stop and glanced out the window.

Cars were jammed as far as the eye could see, and his right eyelid started twitching like crazy.

"What the hell's going on?" someone muttered.

"Probably some kind of inspection. I saw uniforms out there."

Maxwell ...