Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

“Okay, just sit there for a few minutes and let the lidocaine do its thing, and then I’ll sew you up,” said Gemma. She studied Ford for a moment and then added, “And thanks for not freaking and saying I’m too young to doctor you.”

“Oh, there is no doubt you’re a healer,” Ford told her.

“Why do you say that?” asked Stella.

Ford lifted his broad shoulders. “My mother is a nurse. Gemma’s touch reminds me of hers.”

“Nurses are awesome,” said Gemma. “That’s a massive compliment.”

“Do you mind me asking where your family is?” Mercury said.

“Not at all. They’re at our annual family reunion in Puerto Rico. I was supposed to join them yesterday.” His gaze slid to the horizon. “I must hope that whoever did this to us forgot about Puerto Rico.”

“Hey, Ford,” Georgie waved a hand at him to get his attention. “Did you know some people don’t even understand that Puerto Ricans are US citizens?”

Ford’s lips lifted again. “Yes, niñita, I do know that.”

“Well, maybe the bad guys don’t know and your family is okay.” Georgie crossed her arms over her chest and nodded as if she’d just solved all the problems of the world.

“That is exactly what I pray for,” said Ford.

“Are you Christian?” Karen’s head popped out of the back of the truck like someone had called her name.

“I was raised a Catholic who genuflects on autopilot,” said Ford. “But I’m more of an agnostic—or maybe just a worshipper of nature.”

Mercury grinned internally as Karen disappeared back inside the truck.

Ford sucked in a sharp breath when Gemma stuck the needle through one edge of the laceration. Without looking away from the wound she was stitching Gemma said, “Keep talking, Ford. It’ll help take your mind off what I’m doing. Just don’t move, or I may stab you in the wrong place.”

Ford’s gaze returned to Mercury. “Mercury…” Ford said. “That’s an unusual name.”

“So’s Oxford. Is that where you were born?” Mercury asked.

“Nope. My parents went to England on their honeymoon. And by naming me Oxford, forevermore all of my friends and acquaintances know that’s where I was made. Not a big deal now, but very much not cool when I was a kid. What about you?”

Stella spoke before she could. “Her name is Mercury Elizabeth Rhodes. Her nice but nutty parents loved queens.”

Mercury grinned at Stella. “‘Nice but nutty’ is a great way to describe them.” She turned her attention back to Oxford. “So, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Backpack camping. I always take a solo trip during spring break.”

“Holy shit, don’t tell me you’re another teacher,” said Stella.

“No, I’m an electrician, but I block out at least a week every spring, summer, and fall to backpack and camp. I’ve been exploring Oregon for decades like that. It keeps me grounded. Are all of you teachers? Well, except the doc here and the kids.”

“Yes, we are,” Karen answered as she reemerged from the camper shell and began handing sandwiches and slices of apples to everyone. “Mr. Diaz, I have one saved for you.”

Ford turned his endearing smile on Karen. “Please, call me Ford.”

Mercury was surprised to watch Karen blush as she replied. “Oh well, then I shall. And you may call me Karen.”

“It would be my pleasure—ooo!” Ford jerked a little and sucked air. “That one stung. Sorry, I didn’t mean to move.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t stabbing you at that second, so you’re fine. Keep talking. I’m about a third the way done.”

“Ford, do you live in Oregon?” asked Mercury.

“Yeah. I do—or I guess after the bombs it’d be more accurate to say I did—a few acres that was a Christmas tree farm in North Plains, which is just on the other side of Portland.”