Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

“Uh, no offense, Gemma, but can’t you drive a stick, Imani?” Karen asked.

“Nope. Zero clue,” said Imani. “But don’t stress. If Gemma says she can do it—she can do it.”

“Hey, I was my parent’s designated driver,” Gemma said. “I’ve driven Dad’s truck home from a family dinner that included way too many beers for him and way too many white zinfandels for Mom—about a zillion times. I can do it with no problem.”

“She drank white zinfandel in front of you?” Stella shuddered. “Child abuse.”

While Gemma grinned and Karen sighed and shook her head, Stella quickly turned the truck around, put it into neutral, and motioned for Gemma to get behind the wheel.

“Okay, keep a lookout for us,” said Stella.

“I’ll do that,” said Imani. “I’ll stand outside the passenger door and watch and listen. First sign of anything iffy, and we’ll be ready to get outta here.”

“I’ll be in the bed of the truck,” said Karen.

“That’s fine,” Mercury told Karen, “but before you pull the covers over your head, give Imani the rifle.” Then she and Stella began to tromp through the calf-deep snow up the little country road.

The crying—high and thin and heartbreaking—got closer and clearer. The two women came to a dirt road completely covered with untouched snow. Facing the paved one-lane was a mailbox shaped like a log cabin. On the side of the green tin roof there were five stick people painted with huge smiles: a mommy, daddy, and three little kids. “The Smythe Family” was written in bold white letters beneath the stick figures.

“Shit,” Stella said.

“Fuck,” said Mercury.

Side by side, they started up the dirt road. Even broken and battered, the trees in the forest surrounding them were thick. They caught the snow in mounds on splintered trunks and fallen branches. Sound was further muffled up the little lane, so that it seemed the sobbing echoed from everywhere around them.

From out of the snowy landscape, a Subaru SUV materialized. It had smashed against one of the toppled pines and burned so that there was not much left of it but a snow-covered shell. Small tracks led from it back to a raised clearing, in the middle of which was a large, two-story log cabin. Mercury could just make out that a heavily blanketed someone sat on the porch swing—and that someone was crying.

“Shit,” Stella repeated as they paused at the SUV. “We gotta look.”

“I hate this,” Mercury said. “I really, really hate this. Did I tell you why I changed my major from a pre-veterinary focus to secondary education?”

“Yep, many times, Acorn. You realized you hated dead things and parasites,” said Stella as they stared at the snow-covered wreck together.

“Yet here I am, in the fucking apocalypse, surrounded by dead things.”

“Yeah, well, at least there’re no parasites,” quipped Stella.

“So far.” Mercury sighed and stepped forward to peer into the burned vehicle. She quickly turned her gaze away. “I saw two bodies in the front.”

“Me too.” Stella took a step back. “I’ll look in the rear seats.” Stella bent and peered through the shattered back window. “Nothing.”

“That means the kids are probably at the house,” Mercury said.

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.” Stella started to walk the rest of the way to the cabin, following the small footprints in the snow, but Mercury lagged behind. Stella turned to her. “What?”

“Get what over with?”

“Finding out what we’re faced with. You know, how many kids—alive or dead,” Stella said. “One’s obviously alive. She’s crying.”

“And we do what with her?”

Stella’s brows lifted. “We take her—and any other living kid—with us. Actually, we hope that there’s family close by who are alive, so we can take the kid or kids there, but we can’t leave them here. Alone.”

Mercury nodded and resumed walking beside Stella. “So, we shouldn’t stay here?”

Stella glanced at her. “Oh, that’s why you’re giving me that look. Hell, no. Mack and what I suspect is a whole cluster of likeminded douchebags are way too close. Plus, this isn’t where we settle. I’m sure of it. When we do settle, it won’t be a few yards off a main highway—and that’s not just my gut talking. That’s common sense.”

“Whew. I didn’t think we’d be staying, but…” Mercury shrugged.