Page 13 of Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

CHAPTER

4

STELLA HANDLED THE old truck like a Hollywood stunt driver. The earth convulsed under them while more of the mountainside disintegrated, taking the westbound two-lane highway with it. The Chevy’s engine roared as they raced across the interstate divide to the opposite lane. Stella yanked the wheel to the right and headed the wrong way down the highway while she dodged around fallen trees and gaps in the asphalt. The four women held onto the dash, the back of the bench seat, and each other while they were tossed about the cab.

It reminds me of the old Star Trek—with The Shat—and how the crew used to get thrown around the bridge of the Enterprise.The bizarre comparison flashed through Mercury’s mind, which almost caused her to giggle. This is hysteria and shock. Get it together, woman! she told herself sternly as the earth continued to shudder and more and more of the mountain—and highway—on their right sloughed off.

Mercury noticed one car stalled in the left lane, facing them, but Stella sped by too fast for her to see if anyone was inside. A little farther down the interstate, they whizzed past an SUV that had rear-ended a car. Both were fully engulfed in flames.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” Stella repeated as she steered the old truck past the fireball and around an abrupt curve in the highway, where she almost ran headlong into a jackknifed eighteen-wheeler that was being sucked into a raw crevasse newly torn in the asphalt.

Mercury felt more than saw Jenny cover her eyes with her hands. Beside her Mrs. Gay panted like she was sprinting next to the pickup. A deer darted in front of them. Stella cursed again and somehow managed to miss it.

“Lord save us!” Mrs. Gay cried and grabbed onto Mercury’s hand like she was Jesus.

Mercury couldn’t make her voice work. She squeezed Mrs. Gay’s hand and tried to keep from flying into the windshield as Stella continued to race the truck down the highway until finally the earth stilled its horrible shuddering.

Silently, Stella pulled the truck to the side of the broken highway. She shifted into neutral, stepped on the emergency break, burst from the cab, bent, and puked.

Mercury was beside her in moments. She gathered her best friend’s thick hair and held it back while Stella heaved and heaved.

“Jenny! I have a bottle of water in my purse—get it!” she called over her shoulder. Mercury kept holding Stella’s hair while she rubbed her back gently. Jenny ran up to her and handed her the open bottle of water. “Here, honey. Can you rinse your mouth out and drink some of this?”

“Not—done—yet,” Stella said between retches. Eventually, the puke turned to dry heaves, and then Stella staggered several steps away from the steaming pile of bile and breakfast. Mercury went with her and offered the bottled water again, which she finally took. Stella rinsed her mouth, spit, rinsed again, and then took several long swallows before she shakily handed the bottle back to Mercury. “Th-thanks.”

“Keep it. Finish it. You puked a lot.”

“I was a lot freaked.” Stella sounded more like herself as she finished the bottle of water.

“You did good, though! You got us out of there,” Jenny said.

“I might have shit myself,” said Stella.

Mercury glanced at the back of her friend’s jeans. “Doesn’t look like it.” She sniffed at Stella. “Doesn’t smell like it either.”

“But we wouldn’t blame you if you had,” Jenny said quickly. “That was so damn scary.”

“The highway is gone.” The three women looked at Karen, who stood by the rear of the truck. She pointed and they followed her finger.

Stella had pulled off the highway at the top of a rise. Mercury remembered the area clearly. Heading from Timberline to Portland, this part of highway 26 wound to the highest part of the pass—which culminated at the scenic turnout nightmare they’d just sped away from. From where they stood, they could look down this side of the mountain. Not far from there they would turn north onto Timberline Highway and climb up to the lodge, which was on the upper slopes of Mt. Hood.

The view was so altered it was unrecognizable. Mrs. Gay was correct. The entire eastward two-lane part of highway 26 was gone. Had there not been a generous section of grassy, tree-filled easement between the east and west lanes of the four-lane, they, too, would have fallen down the side of the mountain.

Automatically, Mercury grabbed Stella’s arm and pulled her back from the easement so that they stood firmly on the cracked asphalt beside the truck. She looked up at the prematurely darkening sky. It wasn’t even noon, but the day had turned to dusk.

“This is hell. The world has become hell.” There was terror in Karen Gay’s voice. Her restless fingers worried the hem of her torn and bloody cardigan. Her face was devoid of color.

“Nope. This isn’t hell.” Mercury heard herself respond, and then her thoughts caught up with her mouth. “We don’t know what this is, but I do know what it is not. We’re not dead. We survived. And this is not hell.” She caught Jenny’s gaze. “Do you have any water in that backpack of yours?”

“I—I think I do.”

“Get it. Let’s all drink some. It’ll make us feel better. Does anyone have to pee? If so, squat by the side of the road. We’ll be leaving in just a few minutes.”

“Will do!” Jenny’s long brunette curls bounced wildly as she climbed into the bed of the truck and lifted the tarp to search for her backpack.

“You going to be okay to drive?” Mercury asked Stella.

Stella was rubbing her arms as she paced back and forth behind the truck. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need a minute or two to be sure I’m not going to puke again.”