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CHAPTER
20
THE SNOW QUICKLY increased from fat, lazy flakes to sheets of never-ending white. The old truck’s windshield wipers weren’t fabulous, and even with the defrost turned all the way up, Stella was soon forced to peer through a soggy, streaky circle of melting snow and ice.
“If you want me to take a turn at driving, I will,” said Mercury.
“How long’s it been since you’ve driven a manual?” asked Stella.
“Last summer. I drove Dad’s old truck while he and his temp worker guy tossed hay bales onto the trailer.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind if I need a break.” Stella slowed and flexed one hand, wiped it on her jeans, and then flexed the other. Her knuckles cracked, and she never took her gaze from the snow-covered road. “Well, the one good thing about all this snow is that it’s easy to see the half of the highway that’s gone.” She jerked her chin to the right. That side of highway 26 was impassable—whether from it having slid down the side of the mountain, or whether the asphalt was just too broken to drive over—and the settling snow accentuated the broken and missing areas like a highlighter on a page of dark print.
Stella downshifted and slowly steered the truck around the blackened shells of wrecked vehicles.
“That’s another good thing about the snow,” said Karen as she stared at the skeletal vehicles. “It’s covering the bodies.” She shuddered and rubbed her cross between her forefinger and thumb, but didn’t look away from the wreckage. “Don’t worry, though. I’m still looking for any sign that anyone’s alive out there.”
“Good job, Karen,” Mercury said. “The snow makes that easier too. You’ll be able to tell if anyone has been walking around.”
“So far—nothing.” Karen continued to stare out the window. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or not about that.”
“Both.” Stella accelerated again and the rear of the truck fishtailed. She steered into the spin and righted it with no problem, but muttered, “I’m gonna stop soon. I was hoping we’d get far enough down in elevation to be out of this snow, but that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon—which means we need to put the chains you found behind the seat on the tires.”
“’Kay, yeah, I helped Dad put chains on his truck tires more times than I can count,” said Mercury. “It’s not hard. Hey, how’s our gas gauge?”
Stella glanced down and frowned. “I’d forgotten what a gas hog these old trucks were. I’ll stop next time we see a vehicle that isn’t burned to a cinder. I can use that section of hose Tyler cut us to siphon gas while you put the chains on the wheels.”
Karen sighed. “We’ve been driving through this mess for hours, right? Or does it just feel like it?”
“No, it’s definitely been four hours. And we’ve officially gone”—Stella paused and glanced at the odometer—“almost nineteen miles from Timberline.”
Mercury swiveled around to peer through the window into the camper shell and the back of the truck. She smiled. “Imani and Gemma are still curled up together like puppies and sound asleep.”
“It’s good for them,” Stella said.
“Sleeping?” asked Karen.
“Well, that and being together. None of us will make it through this alone, but those two in particular need each other.”
“I’m glad they’re together,” said Mercury. “Hey,” she said, pointing as she squinted through the streaky windshield and the unending snow, “up ahead that looks like a bunch of stalled vehicles.”
“Sure does.” Stella began to slow. “Also looks like it’s an exit from the highway.”
“I saw a sign a little way back that said Oregon highway 216 east was ahead,” said Karen. “And I really would like to use the facilities.” She stared out the window and shrugged. “Which seems to mean making the side of the road a lady’s room, as I didn’t also see a sign for a rest stop.”
“Trust me, Karen.” Stella downshifted. “You wouldn’t want to go inside a rest stop right now.”
Karen shivered delicately. “I believe you. I shall brave the snow.”
“Atta girl, Karen,” Mercury said. “You’re practically a pioneer woman.”
Karen sat up straighter. Her narrow lips tilted up. “Well, I can churn butter.”
“That’s an excellent skill to have,” Stella said. “We’ll have to catch us some cows and get you a churn.”
As they drew closer to the widening in the two-lane several cars, SUVs and trucks materialized from the snow. Three had been involved in a T-bone accident—a really bad one. But none of the others appeared wrecked, although one SUV clung precariously to the broken side of the highway, looking like it could tumble over the side of the mountain if the wind shifted.
Stella drove slowly past the SUV and the wrecked pile of vehicles—all covered with snow—and finally came to a stop beside the gas tank of a Ford Exhibition. She put the truck in neutral and pulled up the emergency brake.
