THE ROOM WAS shrinking again. Anna dropped her phone—no time to call for help—and shoved furniture to the side, kicking rugs away.

She ran naked to the garage, arms stretched wide to keep the walls at bay.

By the time she reached the highway, Anna was suffocating.

Trucks pulled up on her right and left. Another bore down on her from behind. Ahead, a fourth truck slid into her lane.

Boxed in.

She flipped a switch and gulped cold air. And then, at seventy miles per hour, Anna climbed through the open sunroof into thin hands that reached for her.

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