Page 74 of Into the Mist

“Get in the back. Keep the window to the camper shell raised and the safety off,” Stella said. “Now!”

Mercury’s stomach roiled as the engine drone got louder. “Fucking snowmobiles.”

Karen hurried to the cab as Stella met her best friend’s gaze. “Don’t question whether you should shoot or not. No second thoughts. If they catch us we’ll be Stepford-ed or Handmaid’s Taled—or worse.”

“Got it,” Mercury said. “Just drive and don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t we just stay here? Hide until they’ve passed?” Karen spoke through the open door.

“When they don’t find us on the highway, what do you think their next move will be?” Stella asked while she jogged around the truck to the driver side. “They’re from here. They know this area. They know the side roads. They’ll start searching them. There is no one to stop them from doing whatever they want to usexcept us. We need to get out of here. Not later today. Not tomorrow. Fucking now!” She caught Mercury’s eye before she closed the door to the cab. “Get the kids down. Tell Gemma and Imani to hang on. Mercury,do not let them catch us.”

Mercury didn’t waste time responding. She knew what she had to do. She raced to the rear of the truck, climbed in and pulled the tailgate closed behind her—though she left the rear camper shell window propped open. As the truck retraced the way to the highway, Mercury arranged their backpacks and containers of supplies so that she could sit comfortably just inside the raised tailgate and aim the rifle out the back window. Without looking at the two women behind her or the cowering children, she said, “Imani and Gemma—get the kids down! And then hold on. Stella is going drive as fast as she can.”

“What’s wrong?” Georgie sounded young and terrified.

Mercury couldn’t take time to look at her, but she kept talking as she readied herself to protect them—to not let anyone get to them. “A bad man tried to hurt us not far from here. We got away from him.”

“I broke his knee,” Gemma said with more than a little satisfaction.

“Yeah, she did. But it seems his friends, who are probably also bad men, have come after us.”

“That noise. It’s snowmobiles,” Imani said.

“More than likely,” Mercury agreed as she rested the gun on the tailgate and sighted. She’d been worried earlier that Mack’s Winchester had a scope. She understood how accurate that would make his aim. Now she sighted the rifle with an immense sense of relief. Mercury was a good shot—a better than good shot—but she was also in the bed of a truck that bounced and shook and was the opposite of good for her aim. The scope would, hopefully, make up for that.

“Are you going to shoot the bad man?” Georgie asked from behind her.

“I hope not. I don’twantto shoot anyone,” Mercury said. “But I can promise you I won’t let any bad men get to us, so if I say cover your ears—do it.”

“Okay,” Georgie said. “Jayden and Cayden, you heard Mercury. Cover your ears when she tells us to.”

The truck reached the highway and Stella didn’t hesitate. She turned onto what was left of 26 east and accelerated. The powerful engine of the old Chevy growled, and the newly installed chains clawed the snow. The truck shot forward. Mercury pulled the rifle inside and rested it across her lap as she sat cross-legged and tried to see through the wall of white.

It hadn’t stopped snowing since dawn, but in the time that they’d tromped to the cabin, the flakes had changed from lots of big Christmas lace to smaller, more serious frozen drops that pelted everything and effectively whited out the road. Mercury was impressed that Stella could maneuver around the vehicles, fallen rocks, splintered trees, and broken asphalt at their current speed. They drove like that for several minutes without Mercury seeing anything or anyone behind them except abandoned vehicles and forest debris. Her shoulders were beginning to relax as she considered the fact that maybe the snowmobiles they heard were actually picking up wounded Mack, when the pointed front end of a snowmobile materialized through the curtain of snow. A heartbeat later a second one came into view beside the first.

Mercury gripped the rifle, though she didn’t lift it yet. Keeping her eyes fixed on the snowmobiles—and the men driving them—she said, “Knock on the window and be sure Stella knows they’re right behind us.”

Gemma pounded on the window and shouted, “Snowmobiles!” A moment later she shouted to Mercury. “Stella nodded. She knows.”

“’Kay, stay down and hold tight,” Mercury said.

The snowmobiles drew closer. Mercury didn’t know much about them. There really wasn’t any use for one in Tulsa—not even on her dad’s property—but at last year’s teachers’ conference at Timberline, she and Stella had gone on a snowmobile excursion, and she was only too aware that they were faster and more easily maneuvered than their truck. As they drew close enough to make out the men’s faces,Mercury could see that the two of them were wearing goggles to protect their eyes—and then she felt like she’d been hit by a jolt of electricity as she recognized the closer of the two.

“Fucking Alvin Rutland!” Mercury ground through her teeth.

He was only yards off their tailgate when Rutland bared his teeth in a feral version of a smile. The stubble on his upper lip was stained red by his perpetual nosebleed. He lifted his hand and pointed a Glock at Mercury. He shouted something and motioned with his weapon for the truck to pull over as he began to edge even closer. The driver of the other snowmobile didn’t appear to have a weapon, but he split off to Mercury’s left. It was obvious what they were going to do—crowd the truck and threaten them with the gun until they pulled over.

Mercury didn’t question her instinct. She didn’t hesitate. Stella had been right. There was no damn way she could let Al Rutland catch them. “Cover your ears!” She yelled over the engines, and then, with one smooth movement she lifted the rifle, sighted, and squeezed the trigger.

Rutland was close enough that she saw the shock on his face. His Glock fired immediately, but he’d flinched at her shot and he didn’t even hit the truck. Mercury didn’t flinch. She took aim again and fired—and even over the ringing in her ears, she heard the whine of the healthy snowmobile engine change to a clanking that sounded like the engine was eating itself. The snowmobile sputtered and slowed. But before it dropped out of sight, Mercury shifted her position and took aim at the second vehicle’s engine. Its driver was still staying even with the rear of the truck, but kept glancing over his shoulder at Rutland.

Mercury squeezed the rifle’s trigger. The driver jerked the wheel hard to the side, and the snowmobile’s outside runner hit debris from a wreck that Stella had narrowly avoided. The front of the little vehicle crumbled and the driver was expelled from his seat and thrown into the car on which the splintered top half of a fallen pine had landed.

Still Mercury didn’t relax. She kept the rifle up and ready, reminding herself she now had only three shots left. But no high-pitched engine whine echoed from behind them—and nothing malevolent materialized from the snow.

“Sh-should I tell Stella everything is okay?” Gemma’s voice was shaky.

Mercury kept staring behind them. “Not yet. Let’s get some distance between us and them first.” She continued to keep watch, the rifle resting in her lap, and the end of a blanket Imani draped around her shoulders, as the truck increased the distance between them and the deadly 216 turnoff.