Page 43 of Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

CHAPTER

12

THEY DECIDED TO share one suite. It had two queen beds and a sofa bed, as well as a decent-sized trundle. The fireplace was in the bedroom, so that’s where they dragged the mattress from the couch and squeezed in the trundle bed too. One small bedside lamp worked, but the roaring fireplace provided most of the light as well as all of the heat. After they covered the broken windows, stacked blankets across them, and closed the heavy blackout drapes, the room was warm and cozy.

“You think we should stay here?” asked Mercury as Stella opened the first of two bottles of French Bordeaux that would’ve cost them upward of one hundred dollars each.

Karen jolted like she’d been pinched. “Where else would we go? You know how horrible it is out there.”

Stella remained silent, though Mercury noticed she hunched her shoulders and looked suddenly very tired.

“I wish I knew what was going on in the rest of the world,” said Imani.

“Same,” said Jenny as Stella filled her wineglass.

“Oh, no thank you,” Karen said when Stella handed her the next red wine balloon.

“Do you have an alcohol problem?” Stella asked her.

“Well, no. Of course not.”

“Then have a few sips. It’s the fucking apocalypse, Karen.”

Karen looked from Stella to Mercury, who sipped from her own glass, shrugged, and told her, “I’m gonna cut your finger here in a sec, so you might want to have a drink.”

“Plus, what was Jesus’s first reported miracle?” said Jenny with a grin.

“Our Lord did turn water into wine…” Karen lifted her chin and took the glass from Stella. “Just a little, please. I’m not used to it.”

Stella poured Karen and herself a glass as Mercury stood and opened her big suitcase-like purse. The women watched silently while she pulled out four steak knives and four small, round new potatoes. She passed the knives and the potatoes out.

“I didn’t sanitize them, but I did bring some antiseptic from the kitchen first aid kit, along with Band-Aids. Though if you’re anything like me, you won’t need the Band-Aids long.” Mercury lifted her hand so that they could see her finger—the one she’d cut just a few hours before. The only evidence left to show that it had been injured was a small pink line.

“It’s unbelievable,” said Imani.

“Well, I hope I have the magic blood,” said Stella firmly as she sat on the edge of one of the beds and pressed the knife against her thumb. She sucked in air as scarlet beaded the small wound, and then squeezed until the beading dripped onto her potato.

Mercury took the potato and handed her the antiseptic and a Band-Aid. “’Kay, I’m going to put these on the bedside table under the lamp. First one on the left is Stella’s.”

“Ouch, fuck!” said Jenny as she cut herself. “I hate knives.” Then she exchanged her blood-spattered potato for a Band-Aid and some salve.

“Jenny’s is beside Stella’s. Who’s next?”

“Well, shit. I’ll do it,” said Imani. She bit her bottom lip as she quickly cut her finger and bled on the spud while she averted her gaze. She still kept her head turned when she handed Mercury the potato. “I really hate seeing my own blood.”

Jenny smiled and scooted over nearer Imani. “Here, I’ll put on the salve and the Band-Aid. You don’t have to look.”

“Thanks, I’ll drink.”

“Karen?” Mercury asked.

The older woman held her breath and pressed the blade to her finger. “Ooh! Stings!” Then she wiped her blood on the potato and gave it to Mercury.

Mercury placed them on the nightstand and pointed as she called out. “From left to right—Stella, Jenny, Imani, and Karen. I’ll take more wine.”

“I’ll gawk at the potatoes,” said Jenny. “Oh, and take more wine too.”

Stella refreshed wineglasses and put more wood on the fire. With everyone curled up in the middle of heaps of blankets and pillows wearing entirely too big pajamas in bold red and black plaid flannel, it almost seemed as if they’d closed the door on the apocalypse. Then Mercury cleared her throat and broke the interlude.