As each person enters the tunnel, the slime bunches up to wrap around them and pull them farther in. Soon the expedition is a long train of slime-blobs, steadily accelerating up to speeds that could keep pace with a car. Just to make sure, Naomi blocks off all the wrong turns with plugs of hardened Clay, ten feet thick and indistinguishable from the lining of the walls, long before the slime train ever reaches them. They spiral down to the lowest level and then head north, taking the most direct possible route to the Canadian-side tunnel entrance where First Naomi is currently de-sliming herself and putting on clothes.

Meanwhile, the gross raccoon is licking slime out of its fur.

The raccoon is deposited in the lap of a man in a wheelchair, and then the group starts leaving the way they came.

Deep underground, Naomi's Tunnelers keep pace with the departing mutants.

It's going to take almost an hour for the kids to reach Canada. In the meantime, she keeps producing new clones, making sure she only hatches one at a time so the distraction won't interfere with her work. It gets easier as the number of Naomis grows. Third hatches Fifth, Fourth hatches Sixth, Second hatches Seventh, Fifth hatches Eighth... she pays close attention, but as far as she can tell, every copy is perfect no matter how many generations stand between her and the original. She stops keeping track of who hatched who when she's satisfied that it really doesn't matter. Her bodies distribute themselves into the tunnels, producing new Tunnelers as fast as they can lay the eggs without sacrificing the mental clarity she needs to extend the tunnels and transport the children and pay attention to that raccoon.

Hi! a voice in her head says. Who're you?

???

I'm a telepath, my name's Edie.

Why are you reading my mind?

She pauses the egg-laying cycle, because no.

I'm not reading your mind! I'm talking to you. I'm not listening to anything except what you send back on purpose.

Okay, good. Don't start. Why are you talking to me, then?

You're really weird. You're not a mutant! How are you doing this without being a mutant?

That is a long, gross, terrifying, irrelevant story, she says. Wait, are you one of the kids?

...Yes.

Well. My name's Naomi. Nice to meet you. Definitely don't read my mind.

I wasn't gonna!

Good!

She tentatively resumes egg-laying. There's thirteen of her now; she can lay eggs almost continuously from her various bodies, producing another clone every two minutes, and still have enough attention left over to handle the whole network without faltering.

How's the story irrelevant?

Because the way I got my mysterious new powers doesn't tell me anything at all about what they are or how they work. I'm figuring it all out from scratch.

Oh. Do you know if other people could get them?

I wouldn't have the first clue how to try giving them to anybody, and the way I got them was unpleasant enough that I hope it never happens to anybody else. Also they're really weird and gross.

People are dying.

I noticed. Anyway, giving more people my powers would be a waste. Making more copies of myself is faster and it lets me keep the whole tunnel network connected, which is way more efficient than having a bunch of different ones.

Okay.

...what?

I'm really curious.

About what, how I got my powers? Don't be. You wouldn't enjoy knowing. I sure don't.