Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

“Men. Politicians. Them. The greedy, corrupt people in charge whose job it was to keep us safe.” Stella’s voice cut like a knife.

Mercury’s gaze swept to the left—to where Coach Davis had said Salem was. It was the same as Portland: flames and darkness. The land between was a ruin—torn, broken, and on fire. Spots that weren’t on fire glowed with the strange green fog that had spewed from the blasts.

Like a zombie, Mercury ambled around, turning in one spot. Above the broken trees and torn earth, smoke and debris spread like a deadly contagion to cover the day with darkness that had already begun to blot out the brilliant blue morning sky.

“It’s everywhere.” The words slipped from Mercury’s numb lips. Terror seared through her as she tried to comprehend what her eyes reported. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. Her brain replayed the words again and again until Stella’s voice broke through.

“Mercury! Look at me!”

Mercury turned to face her best friend. Stella brushed the hair back from her blood-slicked cheek. Mercury had to draw several shaky breaths before she could speak. “I—I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do. You’re smart, capable, tough. Both of us are. Think!”

“We need shelter.” Mercury forced back the alluring fog of panic. I can freak out later. Now we need to act. She glanced up and then gestured at the growing line of smoke that had begun to shroud the sun. “We have no clue what’s in that, but we’re still alive. Jenny and Karen are still alive.”

“That’s more like it, Acorn.”

“Okay, yeah. We can do this. So, let’s get our asses in gear and see if we can all stay alive.” Mercury turned her back to the view that had become a nightmare, and the old Chevy caught her gaze. “You can drive that truck.”

Stella almost smiled. “I can.”

“We need to get back to Timberline. Fast.”

“Agreed,” said Stella, who took Mercury’s hands and squeezed them—hard. “Remember—together we can do this. We have to do this.”

Mercury allowed herself a moment to hold onto Stella and stare into the blue lifeline of her familiar eyes. Then she dropped her hands; drew a deep, cleansing breath; and raised her voice as if she was projecting to the rear of a noisy classroom. “Jenny, Mrs. Gay—we have to get out of here.”

Jenny was still holding Amelia’s body. Mercury watched her lay the dead woman’s torso gently on the ground. The young teacher lifted Stella’s coat off the body before she went to what was left of the dead infant. She scooped up the tiny, partially disintegrated corpse and placed it on Amelia’s chest. Jenny gently brushed her fingers though Amelia’s sweat-matted hair before she walked to them.

“Here.” Jenny handed Stella her coat. “Amelia can’t feel the cold anymore.” She wiped tears on her sleeve and turned to Mercury. “What do you need me to do?”

“Give the dead a Christian burial, of course!” Karen was still on her knees just a few feet from the three women.

Mercury responded with the first thing that came to her mind. “Do you have a shovel?”

Mrs. Gay frowned. “Well, no. That’s a silly question.”

“It’s a practical question, Karen,” said Stella. “You say you want to bury everyone. How are you going to do that with no shovel?”

While Karen opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, Mercury turned to her two friends. “The Escalade is trashed. We need to find the keys to that truck and see if we can get a door to the Escalade open so we can pull out the suitcases.”

Jenny’s gaze slid to the semi-smashed SUV that lay on its side. “Shouldn’t we just leave them?”

“Sure, if you want to wear only what you have on for the foreseeable future,” said Mercury.

“Oh, I get it. You’re right,” Jenny said. “Sorry, I’m not thinking very clearly.”

“You’re doing great,” Mercury assured her.

“I’ll check out the truck.” Stella headed to the pickup.

“Let’s get as much of our stuff out of the SUV as possible,” Mercury said to Jenny. “We can toss the suitcases in the back of the truck, and the four of us can squeeze into the cab.” She looked down at Mrs. Gay, who was still on her knees. “Come on, Mrs. Gay. We’re all in this together, and we need your help.”

“I just—I think we must do something about the dead.” The history teacher’s gaze kept flitting from the mound of rust-colored goo that had once been their principal to Amelia and her dead infant.

“Mrs. Gay,” Mercury said gently, “there is nothing we can do for them. What we need to focus on right now is our survival. We don’t know what’s in that mess up there.” She pointed above at the expanding wall of smoky darkness. “We have to get out of here and to a shelter. We’re not from here. We don’t know the area at all. Our best bet is to return to Timberline, but it could very easily have been destroyed too, so we need to get moving or we’ll chance being stuck outside at night in the cold and snow and whatever else might be coming for us.” Mercury offered her hand. Karen hesitated and then took it and stood.

“Mercury Rhodes,” Karen said primly, “at the very least we need to pray over these poor people.”