Page 80 of Into the Mist (Into the Mist 1)

CHAPTER

22

IMANI WAS PACING back and forth in the snow beside the old Ford when Mercury and Stella returned. As they emerged from the wall of white, Imani whirled to face them, hands on hips, mouth open to chastise them for taking so long—when her gaze found the silent little boys walking between them, and the stone-faced girl who held their hands.

“Well, hi there!” Imani crouched so that she was at eye level with the kids. “This is a nice surprise. I’m Imani.”

“Which kind of teacher are you?” Georgie asked.

“I’m a science teacher,” answered Imani.

“Oh my! Hello, children.” Karen came from around the rear of the truck.

Gemma stuck her head out of the open driver window. “Hey, can I get out of the cab now?”

“Yeah, but leave the truck running. We’re out of here as soon as we settle the kids in the back with something to eat and I fill up the gas tank with this.” Stella lifted a full red plastic container that said “Gas” on the side of it, which she’d found in Mr. Smythe’s well-organized garage—along with a bow and an arrow-filled quiver she’d slung over her shoulder, three fishing poles and a tackle box Mercury carried, plus a nice selection of hunting and fileting knives.

“So,” Mercury said as Gemma joined them, “this is Georgie and her brothers, Jayden and Cayden. Kids, this is Imani, who you’ve already met. And Karen—she’s the history teacher. And Gemma, who is a really excellent doctor.”

Georgie studied Gemma. “You’re too young to be a doctor.”

“Yeah, up until three days ago I woulda said the same thing.” Gemma shrugged. “But now I get that age isn’t that important.”

Georgie nodded slowly. “Like before Sunday I didn’t think I’d have to take care of my brothers all by myself.”

“Exactly,” said Gemma. “But you did, even though people might say you’re too young.”

“Exactly,” Georgie echoed.

“Okay, I’m gonna top off the gas tank, and then let’s get back on the road,” Stella said.

“While you do that, we’ll get Georgie and her brothers settled in the back with sandwiches,” Mercury said.

“I’ll help,” said Gemma. “I totally know all about the sammiches.” She grinned at Georgie and her brothers.

“Thanks, Gemma,” Mercury said. “They brought their favorite things in their backpacks, so be sure to find a special place for them.”

“Oh, for sure,” Gemma said as she led the kids through the snow to the rear of the truck.

“I’ll be there in just a sec,” Imani called.

“No problem. Take your time,” said Gemma.

Imani and Karen closed in on Stella and Mercury. Stella held up her hand before either woman could say anything “I’ll make this fast because, unlike what Gemma just said, we shouldn’t take our time. Georgie is ten. The twins, Jayden and Cayden, are six. Mercury, tell them the rest while I dump this gas into our tank so we can get the hell outta here.”

Mercury explained, “Their parents are dead inside their wrecked SUV right in front of their house. The kids watched them burn, and the boys haven’t spoken since. Georgie said they spoke just fine before that, though.”

Imani nodded. “It’s called selective mutism. I remember from one of my child development classes. It happens after a major shock, especially to children. They’ll probably speak again—when they’re ready and they feel safe. We shouldn’t force them, though.”

“Is there some reason why we’re not returning to their home to fix them a hot meal and take our time to figure out what to do with them?” Karen asked.

“Yes. Stella says it isn’t safe. Plus, we already know what to do with them. According to Georgie, their family was in Portland and on the Oregon Coast. Neither is an option. So now they’re our responsibility,” said Mercury.

“Poor babies,” Imani said. “They’ve been all alone for three days?”

“Yeah, with their dead parents in a burned-up SUV right outside their front door. No electricity. No communication with the outside world, and running out of food. It’s a damn good thing we heard them. Oh, and the reason we did is because all three of them were on the front porch, crying.”

“It’s so awful,” said Imani.