Page 30 of Into the Mist

“At least for most men. For us?” Stella shrugged. “I guess time will tell.”

“I can’t think about that right now. Let’s go help people,” said Imani.

It wasn’t as terrible as Mercury had expected. The majority of the survivors had breaks and cuts—which Dr. Hilary, with Gemma’s steady-handed assistance, was splinting and stitching. Nathan’s broken ribs and Marge’s open leg wound were among the worst injuries, though both were resting peacefully thanks to Dr. Hilary’s administration of morphine.

“Hey! I need help!” Jenny stumbled into the foyer with Bob leaning heavily on her. Blood flowed freely from his nose and dripped from his chin to make a Jackson Pollock painting of his shirt.

Mercury sprinted to Jenny with Stella and Imani on her heels.

“There’s an empty mattress over there on the other side of the fireplace,” said Mercury as she put her arm around Bob’s waist. “Let’s get him to it.”

“Gemma,” Bob’s words sounded wet. “Need Gemma.”

The four women helped him down to the empty mattress as Gemma and Dr. Hilary rushed up.

“I need a towel! Someone go to the kitchen of the Cascade and see if there’s still ice. If there isn’t, go out and fill a bag or basket or whatever with snow,” Dr. Hilary shot orders.

“Here’s what’s left of a towel.” Karen handed Dr. Hilary frayed strips of terrycloth as she averted her gaze from Bob and his blood. “I’ll get ice or snow.”

“G-Gemma,” Bob gasped.

The teenager went to her knees beside him and took his hand as Dr. Hilary applied pressure to his nose. “It’s okay, Bob. I’m right here.”

“Stack something under his legs so that they’re elevated,” said the doctor.

“Got it!” said Stella as she sprinted back to the boutique and then emerged with a cowhide-covered stool, which she and Imani gently propped Bob’s legs up on.

“Bob, breathe out of your mouth with me,” said Dr. Hilary.

“I’m—I’m better now.” He turned his head and brushed part of the towel aside so that he could see Gemma. “Feel better now. Your hand is so warm. Better now.” His eyelids started to flutter shut, but then he rallied and continued, “Generator is on. Gas lines must be intact. Means stoves will work and limited electricity. D-don’t try to run too much. Only meant to fuel part of the lodge.”

“Shh, Bob. Let’s just get your bleeding under control. Then you can update us,” said Dr. Hilary.

Bob’s smile showed reddened teeth, which suddenly reminded Mercury of douchey Alvin Rutland. “Not gonna be around much longer to help you. Just remembered there’s an old CB radio in one of the outbuildings. Tyler can find it. Used to use it to contact the Silcox Hut before we got cell service up here.” Bob’s voice got weaker and weaker, though his grip was so tight on Gemma’s hand that his knuckles were as white as his face. “I gotta go now. It’s okay, though. Gonna be with my wife and kids. They got caught in the avalanche. Don’t let go of my hand, Gemma. I feel better when you hold my…” His eyes rolled to show white, and blood poured from Bob’s nose, mouth, and ears.

Imani bowed her head and began to cry quietly.

Hilary started chest compressions, but Gemma gently released Bob’s hand and touched her shoulder. “He’s not coming back. He’s broken inside.”

The doctor turned to meet the teenager’s gaze. She nodded. Her shoulders deflated and she stopped performing CPR.

Karen jogged up, breathing heavily and holding a wet plastic sack full of ice. “There was ice! Got a whole—” She looked at Bob and her words broke off. “Oh. Oh no.” She bowed her head and began to pray.

Gemma placed Bob’s hand on his chest and closed his eyes. “I hope you find your wife and kids, Bob.”

Hilary sighed wearily and wiped her sweat-beaded forehead with the back of her hand. “I can use the ice to pack around some of the breaks and sprains. Karen, could you find more plastic bags and fill them?”

“Yes, of course.” Karen hurried away.

Mercury felt numb. She’d been with her grandma when she’d died, but that had been a natural, easy passing. She’d never seen this side of death—one that was random and pernicious and horribly bloody—much less seen it over and over again. For a moment she thought she might puke. She swallowed the saliva that flooded her mouth and wiped at spatters of Bob’s blood on her filthy jeans. Then Mercury drew a deep breath. She needed to keep busy. They all did. If they stopped—if they thought too much—they might never move again.

“Where are you putting the people who die?” Mercury asked.

“I told Tyler and Ken to place them in one of the outbuildings,” said Hilary.

“Ken hasn’t come back from the parking lot yet, has he?” Stella asked.

“I haven’t seen him,” said Imani as she wiped her face and stood beside Mercury.