“You really believe everyone between the mountain and Portland is dead?” Gemma stared at them with eyes much older than those of a sixteen-year-old.
Stella held the girl’s gaze steadily and spoke compassionately. “I’m only going to tell you the truth. I really believe it. And I also believe it’s worse than we can imagine. The bombs changed things. There was something biological about them.”
Gemma nodded sadly. “That’s what I think too.”
“It kills men,” said Stella.
Hilary’s sharp gaze caught Stella’s. “That’s the observation that I’ve made. Not one woman has bled out.”
“But there are some men here, like Ken and Tyler, who seem fine,” said Mercury.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, and they back my hypothesis. Ken and Tyler were in the basement when the blast of green hit us. The other men who are still alive—and there are only a few of them—were in the spa’s sauna, which is on the basement level in a room with no windows or access to outside. Their injuries happened trying to get out of the rubble. None of them breathed in the green stuff.”
“Bob must have,” said Gemma.
“He did. He wasn’t outside when it hit, but he was in the hallway that leads to the side of the lodge consumed by the avalanche. When the building broke, some of the green reached him.”
“So it seems if men were hit by the initial blast, they died, like our principal and coach,” Mercury reasoned aloud. “For lack of a better word, they jellified.”
Stella chimed in. “But if a man was somewhat protected, like Bob, and still breathed in the green crap, he dies. Just not right away.”
“And he doesn’t turn into a Jell-O mold,” said Mercury.
“Gross,” said Gemma. “But true.”
“We must keep an eye on everyone and be sure we all stay away from any lingering green fog,” said Doc Hilary.
“Absolutely. We’re fortunate here,” continued Stella. “The kitchen is well stocked. Tomorrow I’ll take inventory and figure out exactly how long the supplies will last.” She blinked as a new thought came to her. “Wait, there was a bar—Ram’s Head.” Then, before anyone could respond, she turned to Mercury. “I totally forgot about Dusty.”
“You’ve been busy with the whole end-of-the-world apocalypse thing,” said Mercury.
“Dusty the bartender? The one with the hair and the muscles?” Hilary asked.
“That’s him.”
“His body is beneath the avalanche with my Kate’s.”
“Well. Shit.” Stella sighed heavily. “The bar was on the second floor.”
“Nothing on that side of the hotel survived,” said Hilary.
“Well, at least the Cascade Dining Room is well stocked,” said Stella. “That’s something. Let’s get these dishes cleared up, and I’ll check out the egg situation for breakfast.”
“You ladies should choose a few of the ground floor rooms as your own,” Hilary said. “The housekeepers went around and unlocked everything that’s habitable. The family suites have fireplaces. I’ll ask the staff to help me clean up the dishes if you’d like to do that now.”
“No,” Karen said as she stood and brushed off her dirty khaki slacks. “Taking care of hurt people is a lot like taking care of an infant. I know. My father broke his hip last summer, and I was his caregiver. You should sleep when your patients sleep. The ladies and I will clear up the dishes and then choose rooms.”
Hilary nodded wearily. “Thank you. I’ll be in room 101, the first of the suites. I’ll sleep with the door open. Gemma, you should rest too.”
“I will,” said the teenager as she took the doctor’s arm and began to lead her through the foyer. “I’m not tired yet, so I’ll keep an eye on everyone and come get you if I need you.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a lifesaver—all of you have been.” Hilary smiled over her shoulder at them and then trudged away with Gemma, her grace temporarily cast out by exhaustion and grief.
“Let’s get these dishes knocked out, grab a couple stupid-expensive bottles of wine, and find a room. Then we can talk,” said Mercury.
“Sounds like a plan,” said Stella.
The women used luggage trollies to collect the dishes. They moved quickly but quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping patients, and pushed everything into the dining room. Tyler and Ken had cleared a path for them, so it was easy to get back to the sinks. With assembly-line efficiency, they washed, dried, and put away the dishes.