CHAPTER
5
“SHIT. SOME OF them look like they’re hurt,” Stella said as the old truck slowed, and they reached the first of the vehicles.
From a distance it had appeared as if the cluster of cars and trucks had been a massive pileup, but as they got closer, it became clear that only one car had rear-ended a huge Winnebago. A few of the other vehicles had skidded around the accident and were partially on the side of the road before the EMP brought them all to a standstill. There were several people lying on the mountain side of the westbound lanes, as far as was possible away from the easement of broken and bent pine trees and the nonexistent west lane. Two people stood over them. A mile or so farther down the highway, Mercury could just make out what looked like a small group of people walking down the middle of the road, away from them.
“I’m going to stop, but I’m not getting out,” said Stella.
“No one is. Or at least we aren’t at first,” Mercury said quickly. “Just roll down your window and let’s see how we can help.”
Stella nodded, pulled the truck beside the group, and rolled down her window.
“Hey there,” she said. “Do y’all need help?” Stella sounded completely normal, but her Okie accent had thickened, a sure sign that she was stressed.
The two people who were standing were women—one was middle aged and the other, considerably younger. Their resemblance made it seem as though they could be mother and daughter. The older of the two wiped her sleeve across her dirty face wearily and nodded as she motioned for the girl to stay where she was. She walked to the truck.
“Hi. Thanks for stopping. It’s, uh, crazy that your truck works. All these other vehicles quit when the explosions started.” The woman’s eyes darted around like she expected someone to leap at her from out of the back of the truck.
Mercury leaned forward and smiled. “I’m Mercury. This is Stella—and Jenny and Karen.” She ignored the woman’s comment about the truck and nodded at the people lying on the ground behind her. “We’re heading back toward Timberline. Do you folks need a ride?”
“Oh yes! I’m Sadie Jenkins and this is my daughter, Gemma. We were on our way home from brunch at Glacier Pub when all hell broke loose. We’re okay, but the others—well, they’re dead.” She finished in a rush and wiped her sleeve across her face again. “Gemma and I helped these people. We don’t know them, but they can’t walk, and when that group left,” she jerked her chin at the people in the distance, “we just didn’t feel right abandoning them.”
Stella asked. “Do you know those other people?”
Sadie nodded. “Yeah, there’s a guy in charge named Alvin Rutland. He’s a hops farmer with a big place east of Government Camp. The men with him are his workers, and there are a few women with them I didn’t recognize. Al said he’d send back help once they get to town.”
“And he’s okay, this, um, hops farmer?” Mercury asked.
“Well, I don’t really know him. He’s more of an acquaintance.”
“No, I meant does he feel okay. Is he wounded?” clarified Mercury.
“He seemed to be fine. He and his men were in that Range Rover.” She pointed to a big black vehicle that had skidded to a stop on the near side of the Winnebago. “When the green stuff hit and all that debris came with it, their group was shielded by that thing. Rutland had a bloody nose, but besides that he was walking and talking, so…” She shrugged.
“And the other men walking with him? They’re not, uh, wounded?” Stella said.
“Nah. They all hunkered down against the Winnebago, which saved them from the worst of it. Some bloody noses and scrapes, but not bad enough to stop them walking away.” She lowered her voice and added. “More than half of the people died, though. It’s really awful. The men just—just dissolved. My daughter and I, we left them where they fell. We didn’t know what else to do.”
“There’s really nothing else you can do,” said Stella. “We need to focus on the people who are alive.”
“Speaking of which, how about we get those wounded people in the bed of our truck,” Mercury said. “If you don’t mind the wind, you can ride back there with them too.”
Sadie’s shoulders slumped with relief. “We don’t mind at all, but we’ll need some help getting them into the truck. We have one with a broken leg, and I think another has some cracked ribs. And the others—two men from the Winnebago—are unconscious but seem to be breathing just fine.” She paused. “You came from the other side of the pass?”
“No, we weren’t through the mountain when the explosions happened,” Mercury said. “We were only a little farther down the highway, at the scenic turnout.”
Sadie’s eyes lit. “So, you could see a ways?”
Mercury nodded. “Yeah, all the way to Portland and even Salem.”
“Between here and Portland—did bombs or whatever this is—hit that area too?”
Mercury moved her shoulders. “It was hard to tell, especially because we’re from Oklahoma and don’t know the area, but it looked like most everything there”—she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to point behind them—“is either on fire or torn up by the earthquakes.”
Sadie looked down and didn’t appear to be able to speak. When she finally met Mercury’s gaze again, her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Our home—it’s just this side of Portland in Gresham. My husband always stays home on Sunday mornings so Gemma and I can have a mother–daughter brunch.”
“I’m so sorry,” Stella said.