I try the ignition again, but Floyd just coughs. “What’s the deal, Sutton?” Charlotte sounds annoyed.

“Everything’s under control,” I mutter. The Volvo-symbol keychain swings back and forth as I twist the key again and again.

“Yeah, right.” The leather squeaks under Charlotte’s butt. “I told you guys we shouldn’t have gotten into this death trap.”

The train blows its whistle. “Maybe you’re starting it wrong.” Madeline reaches over and tries the ignition herself, but the car only makes the same wheezing sound. The lights don’t even flicker on the dash.

The train is getting closer. “Maybe it’ll see us and hit the brakes?” I say, my voice shaking as adrenaline courses through my veins.

“The train can’t stop!” Charlotte unbuckles her seat belt. “That’s why those warning gates go down!” She pulls at the door handle in the back, but it doesn’t budge. “Jesus! Unlock it, Sutton!”

I press the unlock button—my dad and I had installed an electronic power feature on all four doors and windows—but there isn’t the familiar heavy click sound of the barrel releasing. “Uh . . .” I jab the button again and again.

“What about the manual unlock?” Lili tries to lift the button on her door. But something jams that button, too.

The train whistles once more, a low harmonica chord. Laurel tries to unroll the windows, but nothing happens. “Jesus, Sutton!” Laurel screams. “What are we going to do?”

“Is this a prank?” Charlotte shouts, yanking hard on the door handle, which doesn’t give. “Are you messing with us?”

“Of course not!” I pull at my door handle, too.

“Seriously?” Madeline yells.

“Seriously! Cross my heart, hope to die!” It’s our fail-safe code, the thing we’re supposed to yell out to show something is dead serious.

Madeline reaches over and stabs the center of the steering wheel. The horn bleats feebly, like a dying goat. Laurel dials a number on her cell phone.

“What are you doing?” I scream at her.

“What’s your emergency?” a voice squawks on speakerphone.

“We’re stuck on the train tracks of Orange Grove and I-ten!” Laurel screams. “We’re trapped in the car! The train’s about to run us down!”

The next few seconds are mayhem. Charlotte leans forward and pounds on the windshield. Gabby and Lili blubber uselessly. Laurel gives our details to the 911 operator. The train rockets toward us. I jiggle the keys in the ignition back and forth. The train barrels closer . . . closer . . . until I swear I can see the conductor’s panicked face.

Everyone screams. Our death is mere seconds away.

And that’s when I calmly reach to the dashboard and release the choke.