Page 6 of Into the Mist

“Come on, ladies!” The coach’s enthusiasm was contagious. “This is a great spot.” He took in the view and pointed to the northwest. “That’s Portland over there. And you can even see Salem.” Davis gestured to the south. “Wow! It’s just amazing.”

“I forget you grew up in Oregon,” Jenny said.

“Yep! Born in Bend, which isn’t very far south of Timberline. OSU recruited me to play college football and, well, after that I just stayed.”

“Oklahoma grew on you.” Jenny grinned.

“Seems like it,” Coach Davis agreed, then he looked over his shoulder at the second of the two benches where Karen Gay was seated as she snapped several pictures with her phone. “Karen—Mr. Hale, join us!” Coach Davis gestured magnanimously.

Mrs. Gay stood and buttoned the top of her thick cardigan. “It really is a lovely view,” she said as she joined the group.

Everyone looked expectantly at their principal.

Richard Hale waved dismissively from his bench. “No, you go ahead. I’ll just take in the scenery.”

Mercury walked quickly to him. “While you do that, how about helping us out?” She handed him her phone. “It’d be great if you took the picture. That way we can be sure we’ll all be in it.”

“Yeah, unlike last year whensomeone’shead got cut off,” called Stella as she pointed to herself.

Hale squinted at the phone. “What do I press?”

Mercury showed him and then jogged the few yards back to the little group. She stepped between Stella and Jenny and put her arms around their waists. “Squish together!” she said.

“Are y’all ready?” asked their principal.

“Yep,” Mercury said. “Saysummer break!”

“Summer break!”they shouted.

“Hang on,” said Hale. “Don’t move yet. I’ll take a few more just to be sure I got a good one.” He stood and tapped the phone several more times while the group grinned at him. When he appeared satisfied, he went to Mercury and gave back her phone, his gaze focused over her shoulder. “It is an amazing view. I’m glad we stopped.”

“It’s always good to appreciate the beauty of our God’s creation,” said Karen Gay.

Mercury considered reminding Mrs. Gay, for the zillionth time, that not everyone was a member of Church on the Move, nor an evangelical Christian—nor, for that matter, a Christian at all. But she chose not to waste her breath. As a Pagan living in the Bible Belt, Mercury was more than aware that people like Karen Gay believed anyone who didn’t worship like they did was not just going to hell in a handbasket, but was also a bad person. And that Pagans in particular weren’t just going to hell, but were Satan’s minions—or some such nonsense. Sadly, experience had taught her that no amount of logic would change a mind that was closed. Instead of wasting her breath on Mrs. Gay’s narrow mind, Mercury turned back to the view, but her attention was pulled to the parking lot by the crunch of gravel as a faded blue Chevy pickup pulled off the highway and parked. Two men climbed out, stretched, and headed for the tree line.

“Looks like they have to see a man about a horse too,” said Coach Davis.

“That truck!” Stella said. “I swear it looks exactly like the old pickup my dad taught me to drive on.” She laughed softly. “It had astick shift on the floor, and whenever I put it into third gear, I had to keep my hand on it because if I didn’t, the damn thing would fall off the column and plop on the floorboard.”

“That’s crazy,” Mercury said.

“Absolutely.” Stella grinned and her voice turned nostalgic. “But I can drive anything with a stick shift.”

“Is there anything still drivable with a stick? I mean, except for an eighteen-wheeler or whatever.” Jenny squinted at the truck like it was an exotic insect.

“Barely,” Coach Davis spoke up. “What’s the year on that old Chevy, 1960-something?”

“Dad’s was a 1959, and that one looks pretty similar,” said Stella.

“Wow, they don’t make ’em like—” Coach Davis began, but his words were interrupted by a bizarre humming that filled the air around them.

“What the—” Richard Hale spoke over the vibrating sound. He’d returned to his bench, but stood and stared, slack-jawed, out at the view.

The little group stared too, while the humming intensified. Mercury cringed—whatever it was seemed to reverberate through her body. The hair on her forearms lifted and pain knifed through her head. Beside her, Stella put her hands over her ears and staggered against Mercury.

“Look!” Coach Davis pointed up at the western sky.

Mercury saw something that appeared to be a contrail, like an airplane would leave in its wake, far above the area Davis had said was the city of Portland. It was heading straight down in an arrow-like trajectory.