Page 131 of Into the Mist

“And that’s a good thing?” Mercury asked.

Ford nodded enthusiastically. “It’s agreatthing. I’ve hiked this area many times. It’s considered one of Oregon’s seven wonders, known for its remote beauty.”

Stella allowed her gaze to leave the path for a moment. “Remote?”

“Yeah! There’s only one real road that cuts through the national preserve. And only one little town within miles of here. No one can build on this land. Hell, the state doesn’t even allow vehicles into the hills. There are a limited number of hiking paths that people can follow, with controlled access to them. Anything else is strictly prohibited.”

Stella steered the truck up onto a two-lane road, where she shifted into neutral and stopped. “So, people don’t live here?”

“Nope,” said Ford.

“But it’s the high desert, right?” Stella asked.

“It is,” said Ford.

Stella’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “That means little water and extremes in temperature, correct?”

“For most of the high desert, correct. But on the eastern edge of the preserve, there’s a tributary of the John Day River that serves as runoff for the hills. Bridge Creek! That’s what it’s called. It doesn’t go dry.”

Stella’s lips curled up. “That’s it. That’s where we’re going.”

Mercury’s heartbeat quickened. “Like, for good?”

Stella nodded. “We’re supposed to be here. For good. But we have to be near water, because even though our blood makes things grow, nothing lives long without water.”

“We’ll also need to figure out some serious shelter,” said Ford. “It’s chilly and wet right now, but that’ll end by mid-spring. In summer, temperatures during the day can reach upward of one hundred degrees, and at night it can get really cold.”

“Which serves as a deterrent for people—especially assholes like Eva Cruz or Alvin fucking Rutland,” said Stella.

Mercury studied her friend. “You really think we could make a life here?”

“Once we find shelter, I know we can,” said Stella. “Ford, do I follow this road or keep cutting cross-country?”

“Follow the road.” Ford pointed to the right. “That’s the only way we’ll know how many people were stuck out here when the bombs hit. Plus, we can syphon gas and see if anyone survived.”

“And might have formed a creepy militant group we need to avoid,” added Mercury.

“No one who can’t grow stuff with their blood would want to settle in the high desert,” said Ford. “It’s a tough choice, especially when people could settle by a major river, like the Snake or in the Columbia River Valley or any of the more fertile regions of Oregon that have easy irrigation and a better climate.”

“Well, should we consider that?” Mercury said.

Stella shook her head. “My gut says being away from people is a good idea, and after Madras I believe that even more.”

“Okay then. Let’s look for something that can shelter us,” said Mercury.

“But only after we get to Bridge Creek,” added Stella.

They followed Bear Creek Road east as it wound through terrain that became more and more fantastical. As the sun dropped lower and lower into the horizon behind them, the rain turned to drizzle and then finally stopped completely.

“It’s insanely beautiful!” Stella said as she braked so that they could stare out at the Painted Hills.

Mercury couldn’t take her eyes from the land. Gently rounded hills surrounded them, and as the setting sun illuminated the valley, its rays captured the colors in those hills and, like a spotlight, revealed layers of ochre and magenta, jade and golden amber, deep purple and startling flaxen. Folds in the slopes of the hills made them look like a couture designer had thrown enormous capes over the rounded hummocks that hung there, waiting for one of the old gods or goddesses to pick them up and use them to swathe their magnificent shoulders.

In the valley between the colorful hill mounds cedars, junipers and clumps of several different wild grasses were interspersed with yellow wildflowers and squatty bushes. Mercury thought she recognized sagebrush and even young bluegrass, which made her feel a wave of homesickness for Oklahoma’s Tallgrass Prairie.

“Oh my Goddess!” Mercury smacked her forehead. “I read about these hills. I can’t believe I forgot. The paper reported a studygeologists did on the colorful clay. It’s a biologically active substance that can be used as, um…” She tapped her chin as she accessed her memory. “Fertilizer, cosmetics—and I even remember a mention of using it in the production of wine.”

“Now you’re talking!” Stella put the truck into gear and started forward again.