Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

Hilary cleared her throat and then under her breath said, “The chef is dead. So is his staff.”

Stella nodded grimly then smiled at the room. “Let me see what I can do.”

“That sounds really good,” said Nicole.

“You be the chef. I’ll be your sous chef,” said Mercury.

“And I can bake biscuits from scratch,” said Imani.

“Sounds great—unless the doc needs you; then I can manage.”

Hilary waved them away. “Go ahead. We can handle it out here. Food’s pretty important right now.”

Gemma stood and wiped her bloody hands on the towel she’d tied around her waist like an apron. “What’s next, Doc?”

Hilary smiled at the teenager, which changed the doctor’s face from pleasant to beautiful. “Clean up the blood. Finish dosing our patients and placing ice packs. I have two more breaks to splint, and I believe only one more laceration that needs to be sewn—for all three I could use your help.”

Jenny returned with Tyler, whose eyes were red and cheeks blotchy from crying.

“Darn it. I really liked Bob,” he said sadly and crossed himself as he gazed down at the dead man. Then his eyes found Gemma. “Your mom told me to tell you that she’s outside with Ken. He, um, didn’t find anyone alive and was pretty broken up about it.”

Gemma nodded. “Thanks, Tyler. Mom’s a good listener. I hope she can help Ken, but I also hope she doesn’t stay outside too long.” Her gaze went to a window from which the ashen light of an unnaturally dark sky stained the foyer gray. Then the girl sighed and headed to the mattress that held a middle-aged woman whose arm jutted out at an awkward angle from her body.

“She’s one tough kid,” said Imani.

Mercury brushed her hair from her face. “I was just thinking the same.”

“Everyone underestimates teenagers,” said Stella.

“You mean everyone who doesn’t teach them for a living,” corrected Mercury.

“Agreed. Let’s go cook,” said Stella.