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“How are you doing?” Imani asked her.

Gemma met her gaze. “I dunno. How are you doing?”

“Not for shit,” said Imani.

“Yep,” Gemma nodded. “Me too.” She looked at Stella, who was holding the newly opened bottle of Bordeaux. “Can I have a glass?”

“Aren’t you sixteen?” asked Karen.

“Yeah. I’m also the sixteen-year-old who held three people as they bled out today and worked beside a doctor to take care of a bunch more.”

“We don’t have an extra wineglass,” said Stella, “but there are water glasses in the bathroom.”

“I’m not picky.” With the litheness of the young, Gemma jumped up, hurried into the bathroom, and came back with a small water glass, which Stella filled. The teenager sat back beside Karen and took a drink. She looked up at Stella. “It kinda tastes like red chalk.”

“It’ll grow on you,” said Stella.

“That’s good, ’cause it’s pretty gross.”

Mercury snorted a laugh. “Your second glass won’t be. So, how is it out there? Anyone, um…” Her words trailed off as she realized she wasn’t sure how to ask if more people had bled out like Bob.

“Die?” Gemma volunteered the word.

Mercury nodded. “Yeah, that.”

Gemma took another gulp of wine, grimaced, and said, “Nope. I don’t think any more of the wounded people out there will either.”

Karen patted her knee. “I hope you’re right.”

“Me too, but why do you think that?” asked Stella.

Gemma moved her shoulders up and down. “Just a feeling I have.”

Stella and Mercury shared a look.

“The green fog hit you and your mom, right?” Mercury asked.

The teenager nodded. “Yep. It was weird. Afterward was when people started, like, dissolving.”

“What did you feel when the fog hit you?” asked Imani.

Gemma took another sip of wine as she considered. “It hurt. Like bees inside me. And then I woke up and was a little achy, but pretty much okay. I actually forgot about that until now.”

“Jenny, Karen, did the two of you feel anything when the fog hit us?” Stella asked, her voice bright with excitement.

Karen shrugged. “I don’t really know. I dropped down to the ground and covered my head. I don’t really remember feeling anything except that I was terrified.”

Jenny chimed in. “I hit the ground, too. I just remember being freaked out about Amelia, who was crying really hard beside me.”

“Gemma, I want you to do something for me, and it’s going to sound really crazy,” said Mercury as she reached for the little trash bin that rested on the floor between the beds.

“’Alright. I guess. Wait. What do you want me to do?”

Stella felt around the foot of the bed until she found one of the knives. “She wants you to cut your finger and bleed on a potato.”

Mercury lifted one of the two unsprouted potatoes from the bin.

Gemma’s gaze went from the knife to the potato and back to the knife. “You didn’t get me drunk to perform weird experiments on me, did you?”


Tags: P. C. Cast Into the Mist Fantasy