Page 19 of Into the Mist

Mercury nodded and squeezed Stella’s leg. Her friend navigated through the pack of vehicles. Several of them had shattered windows and slumped figures inside. Mercury kept her gaze averted, but she noticed that Mrs. Gay stared at every one of them. Her lips moved as she clutched her crucifix and prayed soundlessly.

Once they were clear of the vehicles, Stella increased their speed, though she was definitely not going as fast as she had before there were wounded people in the bed of the truck. Mercury glanced back through the rectangular window. Sadie and Gemma were hunkered down with Marge and Nathan, who had regained consciousness, and Jason, who had not. No one looked up at her.

“How are they doing?” Stella asked, not taking her eyes from the road before them.

“They look alive,” said Mercury.

“I hope they stay that way,” said Jenny. “It was horrible the way Todd died.”

Stella’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were colorless. “The whole fucking thing is horrible.”

“Language!” said Mrs. Gay.

“Uh-uh!” Stella snapped, still not taking her eyes from the road. “Here’s the deal, Karen. I won’t tell you how to talk or think or act—and you will show me the same respect.”

“Well, I don’t like—” Karen began, but Stella cut her off.

“No. This isn’t up for discussion. I’m not pandering to your provincial bullshit during a fucking apocalypse. If you can’t be more tolerant, I will stop this truck right now and leave you by the side of the road.”

Karen sucked air. “The—the others wouldn’t let you.”

“Sure we would,” Mercury said.

Jenny snorted a laugh that she covered with a cough. Mrs. Gay’s lips pressed into their familiar narrow line, and she shifted so that her back was mostly to the three of them. For a moment Mercury felt incredibly light. What Stella had said to Karen Gay was somethingthe narrow-minded woman had needed to hear for decades.Maybe some good things will come out of this mess…

“That group is not far ahead.”

Stella’s words pulled Mercury out of her head, and she focused on the highway. Probably a little over a mile in front of the truck, the group of people had stopped and turned to face them.

“I see ’em. Well, we know that none of them are so badly hurt that they can’t walk,” Mercury said.

“Or help others,” Jenny added.

“Someone had to go get assistance,” Mrs. Gay said without looking at them.

Jenny and Mercury shared an eye roll. “Either way, the fact that they’re all moving means we don’t need to clear out our suitcases to make room for them. Stella, stop long enough to let them know that we’ll send back help, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” Stella’s voice sounded tight, like she had to force the word through sealed lips.

“Mrs. Gay, lock your door,” Mercury said.

“Already done,” Mrs. Gay replied.

As they drew beside the people, Stella steered the truck so that the group was closest to her side of the vehicle. She braked gently and rolled her window about halfway down as a tall, muscular man strode up to them. His jaw was strong, his shoulders wide, and his eyes were a bright, stunning cornflower blue. He held a scarlet-spattered rag in one hand, which he kept blotting against his nose. He grinned at the truck with relief. There was blood in the creases between his straight, white teeth, which bizarrely made him look like he was wearing poorly applied lipstick.

“I don’t like this,” Stella said under her breath. “He reminds me of someone.”

“Who?” Mercury asked as she studied the man, who looked confident and in charge as he strode toward them.

“My fucking last ex-husband.”

Mercury’s stomach roiled. “He was a handsome, narcissistic bully.”

“Exactly,” said Stella.

“Shit,” said Mercury.

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