Page 29 of Into the Mist

“Because ibuprofen treats pain and inflammation, and acetaminophen only treats pain,” said Imani as she crouched and began going through her baskets.

“You two are practically mini-doctors.” Mercury said as she went through her own baskets.

“I read a lot,” said Gemma with a shrug.

Imani spoke automatically. “And I’m a mom. We know things.” Her hands stilled and she whispered, “Or Iwasa mom.”

Gemma touched her shoulder gently. “You’ll always be a mom.”

Imani squeezed Gemma’s hand and nodded before she returned to picking through the baskets.

“Need help?” asked Stella.

“Always,” said Mercury. “We’re looking for alcohol, Neosporin, and acetaminophen. Where’s Jenny?”

Stella squatted beside her. “She went to the utility room with that Bob guy—the lodge’s handyman, who has a bloody nose. He thinks he can get the generator to work. Says there’s one on this side of the lodge.”

“I thought the EMP fried everything,” said Mercury.

“Apparently, if it wasn’t in use when the blast happened, and if the generator wasn’t damaged, we should be able to have power as long as the natural gas lines weren’t torn up.”

Imani’s head snapped up. “Wait, shit! Did you say EMP? You mean those bombs are nuclear?”

“That’s real bad,” said Gemma softly.

“There are other bombs that cause an EMP that aren’t nuclear,” said Mercury. “I was looking directly at Portland when the bomb exploded there, and I’m definitely not blind. If it was a nuclear detonation, I believe it would’ve damaged my retinas.”

Gemma met her gaze. “Don’t say that just to make us feel better.”

“I’m not. But the truth is I don’t actually know what they were. No one really does. This—all of these bombs—have never happened before.”

“Nuclear fallout isn’t green,” said Imani. “And it certainly isn’t a green fog that expands and covers everything after the initial blast.”

“It was something biological,” said Gemma.

“Why do you say that?” asked Stella as she tore the plastic from jars of Motrin and Advil and poked through their protective coverings.

“Common sense,” said Gemma with another shrug. “The green fog stuff covered us too. Right after that, most people exposed to it started to die.” She stood and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Okay, we have enough bottles. Let’s start administering them and lighting these candles. Do you guys need me to help you?”

“We can handle it.” Mercury squinted in the shadowy candlelight at the dosage instructions on the bottles she held. “We ask if they’re allergic, and if they aren’t, we double the regular dosage and write in on the piece of paper tucked under their mattress, right?”

“Right.” Gemma nodded as she spilled a basket out on the floor and piled the alcohol, pots of candles, and several Tylenol bottles in it. “Let’s get to work.” The teenager strode away toward the doctor.

“Damn, Gemma is like what would happen if Florence Nightingale and a Roomba had a baby,” said Stella. “I like her.”

“Me too,” said Mercury as she straightened with her own loaded basket. She paused before heading out to the wounded. “I thought there would be more people.” Mercury took a quick count. “Thirtywounded people—plus the doc, Bob, Tyler, Ken, and those women dragging the mattresses in. That’s still less than forty. It seemed like the lodge was full this weekend.”

“It was,” said Imani. “A few checked out, but most people were having breakfast and waiting for their shuttles when the bombs hit. They died. I swear more than a hundred of them.”

“I heard Bob tell Jenny that there were a little over two hundred guests here and thirty-ish lodge staff,” said Stella.

Mercury swallowed several times before she could form her next question. “Are there no other people alive?”

“I don’t think so—unless Ken actually found some survivors in the parking lot,” said Imani as she hefted her own basket.

Stella shook her head. “He won’t. I looked while I jogged back to you guys. The bodies I saw were like Coach Davis and Mr. Hale.”

Mercury met her friend’s gaze. “The green fog is bad news.”