Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

CHAPTER

21

STELLA DIDN’T STOP until she found a turn off a road lined with broken trees. She pulled the pickup behind a clump of toppled pines, effectively hiding it from anyone zipping past on a snowmobile. The three of them piled out of the cab and hurried to the rear of the truck, opening the tailgate so they could help Imani and Gemma out.

Gemma’s face was pale, and her hands were still shaking, but she smiled at the women. “I did good, right? Imani said I did.”

“You did fucking fantastic, kid,” said Stella as she hugged her.

“I couldn’t hit him on the head,” Gemma said as she detangled herself from Stella and shivered. “I just couldn’t.”

“What you did was perfect,” Imani assured her.

“Yeah.” Mercury smiled at the teenager. “Plus, hitting him on the head might not have hurt him at all. He didn’t seem very smart.”

“Racist asshat,” muttered Imani.

“Seriously,” said Gemma.

“I believe I may have to rethink my stand on violence,” said Karen.

“We’re all going to have to rethink a bunch of what we considered normal before this. Though I’ve always believed racists need to be kneecapped,” said Stella. She wiped her hand across her face. “But we did get some gas.”

“And four chained tires,” added Imani.

“We need to get on the CB and let Jenny know to pass the word—if someone wants to leave Timberline, they need to know there’re armed men at the Oregon 216 turnoff,” said Stella.

“Men? As in plural?” Mercury asked.

Stella nodded. “Yeah, you heard that douchebag. There’s some boss man calling the shots—and it sounds like they’re collecting women. Even through the snow, I could see vehicles that at first appeared to be stalled or wrecked had actually been pulled into place to block the turnoff. No way potbelly Mack did that by himself.”

“Jesus, it’s like something out of Mad Max,” said Imani.

“I’m afraid as more time passes and groups of survivors band together, that analogy is going to be too accurate for comfort,” said Stella.

“Why the hell can’t good people band together?” Mercury brushed her hair from her face and retied her ponytail. “Why is it always the assholes?”

“It’s not always,” said Gemma. “We’ve banded together and we’re definitely not assholes.”

“The kid makes an excellent point.” Stella nodded.

“And wherever we end up settling we’re not going to be those kind of people.” Karen jerked her chin back the direction from which they’d come.

Imani opened the glove box, took out and unfolded the extra-long antenna she and Jenny had rigged, and placed it on top of the hood of the truck. She handed Mercury the mic and flipped on the radio, which had already been dialed into channel five. Then she nodded. “Okay, go ahead and shout out to Jenny.”

Mercury squeezed the button on the mic and spoke slowly and clearly into it. “Jenny, this is Mercury. Are you there?” She paused as her group gathered around to peer over her shoulder. “Jenny, Mercury here. You listening?”

There was a crackle, and then from far away came Jenny’s tinny voice. “Mercury! I’m here! Y’all okay?”

“Yeah, just fine. But pass along to Hilary and any idiot who wants to leave there that there’s an armed blockade 216 exit from 26 east, and probably a whole camp of asshats somewhere up 216 not far from there.”

“Shit! Okay, got it! And you’re all okay for real?”

Mercury smiled. “For real.”

“Still snowing where you are?” Jenny asked.

“Blizzarding is a better description,” said Mercury.