Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

“One more thing.” Stella looked from Mercury to Ford. “We need to be quiet.”

Mercury’s stomach heaved. “I thought everyone was dead.”

Stella nodded. “I honestly believe everyone who was in this town when the fog rolled in was killed. So, maybe it’s just respectful not to make a bunch of noise in what amounts to a tomb.”

“That’s fine with me,” Mercury said.

“Yeah, I have nothing to say to the dead,” added Ford.

Stella turned the truck and parked it in the middle of the street between the two stores. She left it running, with the emergency brake engaged, as the three of them got out. Ford opened the tailgate and then they split up.

Mercury and Stella walked so close together that their arms brushed as they stepped up from the curb to the sidewalk and headed to the open front door of the Wheeler County Trading Company. Just inside there were three putrid, flattened bodies. Stella strode to the nearby wall—the only one not decorated with the stuffed and mounted heads of stags—and pulled down a US flag, a Confederate flag, and the state flag of Oregon. She draped the Confederate flag over the three bodies.

“That’s the best use of that stupid flag I’ve ever seen,” said Mercury.

“Yep,” Stella agreed. “Stay here in the front of the store while I take a sweep around and cover up anyone else.”

“Thanks.” Mercury grabbed two handheld shopping baskets and headed to a nearby shelf that held analgesics, Band-Aids, cough medicines, and other over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. “I’ll fill up baskets with this stuff and start running them to the truck.”

The women worked quickly and quietly. They avoided the coolers. Nothing that needed refrigeration was still viable. But Mercury was impressed by the amount of canned goods, dried goods, and housewares the store carried. In the hardware section, there were lots of pots and pans, as well as several axes and some decent-sized saws.

“Oh Goddess, yes!” Mercury held up a copy of Stillhouse Lake by Rachel Caine. “I just found the book section! There’s everything over here from mysteries to young adult novels, and even some picture books.”

From across the store Stella said, “That’s fantastic! We can read aloud to the kids at bedtime.”

“And after that we can read aloud to each other. I’m an excellent reader-alouder! I can do all the voices.” Mercury piled more books into a basket. “Yes! I just found books on the local area—the Painted Hills and the John Day Fossil Beds. There are actually some paper maps over here too.”

“Grab them!”

After she’d raided the bookshelves, Mercury made her way to the rear of the store, where she discovered a glass cabinet that held a dozen hunting rifles; drawers under them were filled with ammunition.

“I hope we never need to use these,” said Mercury as she stacked the ammo in a cardboard box that said “Pringles Original” on the side of it.

“I hope we don’t either, but be sure you take every weapon you can find to the truck, as well as all the ammo. The last thing we need is to leave stuff here assholes like Rutland or Eva Cruz could get their hands on—and then come after us, or anyone else,” Stella said as she quickly made decisions about what food staples and cookware they should take with them.

“I’m taking a bunch of these fishing poles and equipment,” said Mercury. “But I’ll also leave a few in case someone comes through here and needs them.” She kept loading shopping baskets. “Hey, there are a bunch of waterproof coats and boots and other hunting clothes back here. I’ll take enough for us, but I’m going to leave some of them too.”

“Agreed. It’s good karma,” said Stella.

“I could see a family of survivors finding this little town and wanting to settle here,” said Mercury as she continued to load baskets. “Maybe there are some homes nearby that aren’t stuck down in this valley. They wouldn’t have to build shelters, and I’ll bet there’re generators here and at least some propane tanks—which reminds me. We need to grab lighters and matches and charcoal. Oh, and I saw a couple boxes back there by the waders that said ‘Webber’ on them.”

“Grills would be amazing,” said Stella. “But no one should settle here. At least not as long as there’s green fog. This place is ringed by hills. It’s not safe. At all.”

A tremor of fear fingered its way down Mercury’s spine. “Hey, I just got a ‘someone-walked-over-my-grave’ feeling. Are we almost done here?”

“Yeah. You haul this stuff out to the truck. And when you see Ford, would you ask him to come in here and help me carry those barrels of rice and flour and such?”

“Girlfriend, please. I can carry one under each of my arms. Are you forgetting about my super strength?”

Stella peered around an aisle at Mercury. “Actually, I did. Grab those barrels, woman, and let’s get outta here ASAP.”

Mercury focused her vision on a narrow path to and from the truck to the store. When she looked around at all, it was only to check for flashes of green—not to glance at the birds that had returned to their feast, or the rotting skin sacks that used to be townspeople.

As she hefted the barrels of dry goods into the bed of the truck, Ford came out of the feed store, grinning like a boy who’d snuck cookies from a jar without getting caught. He was carrying a wire crate that contained—

“Chickies!” The word exploded from Mercury’s mouth before she could stop herself. “Shit!” she whispered. “That was too loud. But oh my Goddess, they’re alive!”

“They are. Well, these are. Don’t go in there. You won’t like the—”