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CHAPTER

33

“KAREN! THERE YOU are! We’ve been worried about you.” Mercury had the absurd notion to hug Karen, who was sitting cross-legged on her cot, reading the Bible, when she and Stella came into their room.

Karen closed the Bible and gave Mercury a tight-lipped smile. “There was nothing to worry about. My day has been quite nice.”

“We want to hear all about it, but first we have a surprise for you,” said Mercury as she opened her backpack.

“A surprise?” Karen leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Have you heard there’s some kind of gathering or festival or whatever happening at the park?” asked Stella. “It starts in just a little while.”

“Yes, Amber mentioned it last night, and the good people at the Fellowship Church told me more,” said Karen.

“Yeah, well, Stella and I thought it would be a treat to have new outfits for the gathering,” said Mercury. “Oh, here it is.” She turned and held up a cornflower-blue broom skirt, a buttery-colored cotton blouse, and a matching blue cardigan. “Ta-da! We found this downtown at that farmers market thing. I just guessed about the sizes, so I hope they fit.”

Karen stood and went to Mercury. Reverently, she took the outfit, fingering the soft cotton and smoothing the cardigan. When she looked up at Mercury, her eyes swam with unshed tears and her voice shook. “Th-they’re beautiful. I especially like the cardigan. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You just did,” said Mercury. “Karen, I don’t know what’s been wrong between us for the past day or so, but whatever it is, I hope we can get past it.”

“Yeah,” Stella added. “Even if you’ve decided to stay in Madras, we need to part as friends.”

Karen clutched the clothes to her breast. “I agree. I’ve been conflicted and have let some things bother me. I haven’t liked our recent estrangement either.”

“Well, let’s get all prettied up and have Ford escort us to the party!” Mercury said as she handed Stella a white cotton eyelet dress that looked like a something a 1950s housewife would wear if she had a 1960s hippy vibe. “Here’s your dress. Hang on.” She searched around in her backpack and then brought out a silver pashmina decorated with tiny garnet-colored sugar skulls. “I think you’re kinda macabre, but you already know that.”

“What?” Stella wrapped the scarf around her shoulders. “I think it’s extremely appropriate for apocalypse wear. Plus, it matches my boots. Hello!” She lifted her jeans to expose the cutout leather sugar skulls on her Justin cowboy boots.

Karen sighed. “Oh, Stella.” Then she turned to Mercury. “What are you wearing?”

“Ooh, I’ll show you!” Mercury shook out her dress. “Isn’t it perfect?”

Karen touched the material of the flowy dress that had a turquoise and ruby floral design printed on a creamy background. “It’s a pretty pattern. It’s very Western—like home.”

“Right? And check this out.” She held the dress up. “It looks like it’s a maxi dress, but the front is asymmetrical and cut to mid-thigh.”

Karen’s smile had relaxed. “I wish I could still wear something so revealing.”

Mercury returned her smile. “Karen, it’s a brave new world. You can wear whatever the hell you want.”

“Sometimes you two make me feel so young,” said Karen.

“That’s a really nice thing to say.” Mercury pulled off her sweatshirt and kicked off her boots as the other two women began changing. “Hey, what did you do today?”

Karen turned her back to Stella and Mercury and began to take her clothes off and fold them carefully. “Well, first I shuttled to the courthouse and gave them a sample of my blood.”

Mercury froze halfway out of her jeans. “You did what!”

Karen held her new cardigan up to cover her plain white cotton bra when she turned to face the two women. “I let them take my blood.”

“Why would you do that?” Mercury asked.

“Two reasons,” Karen explained. “First, because we already know my blood hasn’t changed, so it can’t hurt for them to have a sample of it, especially as it reinforces the story we gave them that we weren’t exposed to the green fog. Second, because I may stay in Madras.”

Stella finished unbuttoning the plaid shirt she’d layered over a tank top and dropped it onto her cot. “That was smart, Karen.”

“Thank you, Stella,” Karen said.


Tags: P. C. Cast Into the Mist Fantasy