Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

“Bob, breathe out of your mouth with me,” said Dr. Hilary.

“I’m—I’m better now.” He turned his head and brushed part of the towel aside so that he could see Gemma. “Feel better now. Your hand is so warm. Better now.” His eyelids started to flutter shut, but then he rallied and continued, “Generator is on. Gas lines must be intact. Means stoves will work and limited electricity. D-don’t try to run too much. Only meant to fuel part of the lodge.”

“Shh, Bob. Let’s just get your bleeding under control. Then you can update us,” said Dr. Hilary.

Bob’s smile showed reddened teeth, which suddenly reminded Mercury of douchey Alvin Rutland. “Not gonna be around much longer to help you. Just remembered there’s an old CB radio in one of the outbuildings. Tyler can find it. Used to use it to contact the Silcox Hut before we got cell service up here.” Bob’s voice got weaker and weaker, though his grip was so tight on Gemma’s hand that his knuckles were as white as his face. “I gotta go now. It’s okay, though. Gonna be with my wife and kids. They got caught in the avalanche. Don’t let go of my hand, Gemma. I feel better when you hold my…” His eyes rolled to show white, and blood poured from Bob’s nose, mouth, and ears.

Imani bowed her head and began to cry quietly.

Hilary started chest compressions, but Gemma gently released Bob’s hand and touched her shoulder. “He’s not coming back. He’s broken inside.”

The doctor turned to meet the teenager’s gaze. She nodded. Her shoulders deflated and she stopped performing CPR.

Karen jogged up, breathing heavily and holding a wet plastic sack full of ice. “There was ice! Got a whole—” She looked at Bob and her words broke off. “Oh. Oh no.” She bowed her head and began to pray.

Gemma placed Bob’s hand on his chest and closed his eyes. “I hope you find your wife and kids, Bob.”

Hilary sighed wearily and wiped her sweat-beaded forehead with the back of her hand. “I can use the ice to pack around some of the breaks and sprains. Karen, could you find more plastic bags and fill them?”

“Yes, of course.” Karen hurried away.

Mercury felt numb. She’d been with her grandma when she’d died, but that had been a natural, easy passing. She’d never seen this side of death—one that was random and pernicious and horribly bloody—much less seen it over and over again. For a moment she thought she might puke. She swallowed the saliva that flooded her mouth and wiped at spatters of Bob’s blood on her filthy jeans. Then Mercury drew a deep breath. She needed to keep busy. They all did. If they stopped—if they thought too much—they might never move again.

“Where are you putting the people who die?” Mercury asked.

“I told Tyler and Ken to place them in one of the outbuildings,” said Hilary.

“Ken hasn’t come back from the parking lot yet, has he?” Stella asked.

“I haven’t seen him,” said Imani as she wiped her face and stood beside Mercury.

“’Kay,” Mercury said. “Does anyone know where Tyler is?”

Jenny nodded shakily. “Uh, yeah. He was in the generator shed with us. He stayed behind to—well, I’m not sure why, but he seemed to know what he was doing, and Bob trusted him.”

“Would you go get him?” Mercury asked as she took a length of torn towel Karen had dropped and covered Bob’s face with it. “Then we can help him move Bob.”

“Sure.” Jenny left quickly and retraced the blood-spattered trail Bob had left behind.

The doctor stood and rolled her shoulders.

“Hey, um, Dr. Hilary?” The voice came from a woman who lay on the mattress closest to Bob. She had a bandage around her thigh, but other than that she appeared uninjured.

Hilary drew a deep breath and raised her chin before she responded. “Yes, Nicole.”

“Are we all going to die like that?”

Gemma spoke before the doctor could. “No. You’re not bleeding out. Look at your bandage. After Dr. Hilary sewed your cut closed, it stopped bleeding. Your nose isn’t bloody, right?”

“Right,” Nicole said as she stared at the clean bandage that swathed her right thigh.

“And you haven’t coughed any blood, right?” Gemma asked.

“Right again.” This time Nicole looked at the teenager and smiled. “I actually don’t feel too awful. Well, my leg hurts and I’m hungry, but that’s it.”

“Then I’m going to agree with Gemma,” said the doctor. “As long as we keep your wound clean, my prognosis is that you will recover.” Hilary raised her voice so that it carried to the other patients spread out on mattresses circling the blazing hearth. “No one else has been bleeding like Bob. So, I do not believe any of your injuries are life threatening, but the truth is we don’t know how the green fog works on any of us. Bob walked around for most of the day with a bloody nose before that escalated and cost him his life. So, please don’t panic, but do let Gemma or me know if you start feeling odd or begin bleeding.”

“And I can help with the hungry part,” Stella spoke up. “I’m one hell of a cook, and Bob said that the gas is working. I’ll go see what I can make to feed us—unless the Cascade chef is in here somewhere—and then I’ll be an excellent sous chef.”