Page 56 of Into the Mist

Once. Twice. With the third cough blood spewed from his mouth. His hands went up to clutch his throat and he fell to his knees as he vomited blood and bile and chunks of Stella’s breakfast casserole. Then he toppled forward onto his face. He writhed and screamed wetly.

“We need to help him!” Imani said. She started to move forward, like she was going to rush to him, but Stella snagged her wrist.

“He’s a dead man,” Stella said. “You can’t help him. And I don’t know whether or not that green stuff will kill us too.”

Imani shook her head. “We can’t just let him die alone.”

Sim’s screams had stopped. His body twitched several times. It was over fast. He went still within seconds, surrounded by an expanding pool of scarlet.

“He’s gone,” Stella said. “And he wasn’t alone. We were here. Up until the last moments, he was happy and sure he was going to join his family.” She paused and sighed heavily. “And now he is.”

“They’re dead?” Imani’s voice was soft.

“They are,” Stella said.

Imani faced Stella. “You know things now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Stella said. “But I can’t control it. I can’t make whateveritis tell me stuff. Things just come to me, and so far when Iknowthings, they come true. Like I know we have to leave here. No later than tomorrow at dawn. You, Mercury, Gemma, and me. If Jenny and Karen want to come, that’s fine. If anyone else wants to come that’s fine too. Butwe have to leave.”

“Why?” Imani asked. “Why the hell should we go on?”

Mercury spoke the words etched on her heart. “So we make a world where this kind of shit never happens again.”

Imani’s dark eyes searched hers. “Can that even be done?”

“I don’t know, but I want to try. I want to fight for something better than the mess that got us here,” said Mercury.

“It can be done.” Stella’s voice took on a soft, rhythmic cadence. “We can’t change the entire world. We can make a new one for us—for people like us. A world that sings with our voices. A world that is better, brighter, more beautiful than what was before.”

“What does that even mean?” Imani asked.

Stella shook herself like she’d just come in from the rain and said, “Hell if I know, but I want to give it a try.”

“I do too,” said Mercury. She looked at her friend. “Imani, will you choose to live? Will you come with us?”

“Yes. But I can’t promise I’ll be much help building this dream world of yours. I’ll always be looking toward San Diego.”

“That’s okay,” said Stella. “We need someone who can see beyond us.”

CHAPTER

17

“AND YOU’RE COMPLETELYsure you must leave?” Dr. Hilary stood to the side of the massive kitchen as Stella, general-like, collected supplies to take with them, put the finishing touches on the enormous pot of stew that had been simmering for a day, and made notes about the inventory she’d taken that morning.

Stella glanced up from the sheets of paper she’d been filling with lists and amounts and simple recipes. “Yes. No later than dawn. But you and whoever stays with you aren’t in any immediate danger—especially since you’ll be snowed in here for a couple weeks. Just be sure you have plenty of wood. You should be able to make the food last for almost three months—and that’s without you growing any new veggies. I’ve written down ways to stretch the inventory, but you need to make use of that reefer grow setup in the basement and your magic blood. Plant the potatoes already sprouting, as well as carrots, onions, tomatoes, and such. Keep the meat frozen and use it sparingly. You’ll be fine.”

Hilary’s gaze went from Stella to Mercury, who was putting marijuana buds in mason jars—and checking to be sure there were seeds with the buds. Mercury paused and nodded. “Just FYI, Stella knows stuff now. It’s part of whatever changed our blood to grow things. She’s always had great intuition, but now it’s like superhero level.”

“Though not quite as predictable as X-ray vision or leaping tall buildings in a single bound,” muttered Stella as she went back to her lists.

“Well, I’d rather you stay, but you must do what you believe is best,” said the doc. “What do you think we should do about our blood?”

“Do about it?” Mercury asked. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it except to try to figure out the extent that green fog changed us.”

“No, she means should we tell people about our changed blood.” Stella didn’t look up from her lists. “And not only should we tell the people here, but they should all be given a spud and a knife.” She did look up then. “We can grow things. This is an apocalypse. We will never again be able to run down to Whole Foods and grab a bag of salad and some bread, and then go by the deli for salmon steaks. To survive, we’ll need to grow our food.”

Hilary nodded. “So, you think we just take potatoes and knives into the foyer and start cutting?”