The screams grew louder. Marie obeyed, moving the lighter in a small circle between her and the car door. One disjointed finger of mist twisted, taking her unawares. It wrapped around her other wrist. Biting into her flesh, it lashed back and forth, trying to pull her off balance.
“No. You. Will. Not Win.” She jerked her other hand around, so the flame licked into the flimsy thread that gripped her. Fire spread through the remaining fog. It ignited with a bright flash into a brilliant ball of light. With nothing to maintain it, it fizzled in a cascading curve that reached up, then descended into the dark outside the car.
“Good job,” said Sam. “Now we have to get to the gathering place on the edge of town. Surely somebody will be there to help us.” Her voice betrayed her uncertainty. The engine coughed and sputtered as she pressed harder on the gas.
“But I want to go home.” Marie knew how silly that sounded before the words passed her lips.
“All that is behind us is an empty building. Death waits for you there. Not the soft surrender you were planning, but living death that would enslave and control you.”
Before Marie could argue, a screech of brakes as Sam stomped down, drowned her words. The motor died even before they came to a complete standstill. Sam jerked her door open and jumped out. “Follow me. We’re almost there.”
Determination grew in Marie. She leapt out of the car and started to run, trying to catch up. She would have called out but it was more important to breathe. She kept running.
When Sam finally stopped, the chug-a-chug sound of a diesel motor vibrated the air around them.
“Here. Let me take that.”
Marie could barely make out the sharp features of the man who reached for her hand.
“Release it.” He tugged at the lighter Marie gripped. “The others are waiting for us.”
An old yellow school bus rumbled up. The door opened.
Marie didn’t wait to be told. She scrambled onboard. In the seats she passed covered figures huddled together. No one looked up. She grabbed a blanket from the overhead rack, then sat down in the back.
Sam took the seat beside her and remained silent.
At first the going was easy. Mary sat back and enjoyed the quiet. Lightning lit the inside of the bus. The figures, all wrapped in colorless blankets, huddled in their seats. Only the soft whimp of a small child betrayed something was wrong. Along the way, buildings collapsed with a growl. Steel groaned as it crumbled, like so much tinfoil.
Glowing mist twisted up with the curls of metal. Stretching along the ground, it licked along the pavement toward them.
“Look. There.” The man who’d taken Marie’s lighter stood at the back window. He turned toward her, terror on his face. “Can’t we go any faster?” he screamed.
A loud thud sounded when one of the back tires succumbed to a sizzling finger of mist. The bus rocked.
Marie sat there, petrified.
Sam started to stand, but the bang from another tire threw her against the man at the window.