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Mercury nodded and went to the back of the trucks. They’d left the camper shell window propped open, so she paused. “I need some of that toilet paper,” she whispered into the dark bed.
Gemma’s head popped up. “Some or the whole roll?”
“Some. I don’t want the whole roll rained on.”
Gemma handed Mercury a wad of toilet paper. Then she ducked behind the truck to squat awkwardly while she held the jacket over her head. When she was done, she stood and was zipping her jeans when something a couple yards from her caught her eye. The wind lifted part of what she’d thought was just a pile of rock and dirt and made rain-darkened fur flutter.
Mercury shivered and clutched the coat tighter around herself as she walked slowly down the road to the thing. She got closer and was able to see that it was a baby goat. It looked newborn. It was curled up, almost like it was asleep, but when Mercury crouched to touch it, the little creature was cold and stiff. She looked around to see if the mother was nearby, but nothing in the bleak landscape moved.
Gently, Mercury stroked the soft fur on the baby’s head. It was so sweet—so young and innocent and alone; tears mixed with rain to wet her cheeks. Mercury’s heart hurt for this little one and so, so many others.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured to the small body. “I wish you’d been born in a better time—a safer time.” Mercury stood and held her hand out over the still body. She raised the index and pinky fingers on her right hand and the rest she folded into a clenched position, making the Pagan symbol for the Horned God, or Green Man, the masculine personification of nature. “Little friend, in the name of the Earth goddess, Gaia, I encourage you to forget this broken shell. In the name of the Green Man, the Horned God, patron of things wild and free, I bid you go beyond and enjoy the Summerland.”
Mercury closed her eyes, and as she made the sign of the pentagram by touching first the center of her forehead, then her right breast, left shoulder, right shoulder, left breast and forehead in turn, she imagined that a glowing door opened before them, and the spirit of the tiny goat bucked and kicked and frolicked joyfully through it to a verdant valley beyond. “Blessed be, small friend, and farewell.”
She finished the impromptu ritual and turned back toward the truck—and from the bed she caught the flash of a muted light. Mercury squinted into the still open rear of the camper shell, expecting to see that Imani had turned on the flashlight they’d brought from Timberline, but there was nothing but darkness within, from which Karen stared at her with an oddly intense expression.
Mercury tossed Gemma’s coat inside the camper. Before she closed the window, she spoke softly to the adults. “Okay, we’re out of here. Hold tight. We’ll be in Madras soon.”
“Sounds good.” Gemma whispered back to her, and Imani gave her a thumbs-up.
Karen refused to meet her eyes.
