Выбрать главу

They had survived.

Now, they had to learn to live again.

Starting today.

Mavis forced her lips into a smile. The muscles throbbed from the exercise. It was safe for Sunnie to be here. She’d seen the numbers herself. Besides the girl asked for so little and had lost so much. “Leave? Nonsense. Do you know long I’ve waited for this?”

This was true, in a way. While she yearned for the end of the pandemic, she dreaded the lifting of the public gathering ban. Mavis sent the fear to a ‘think about it later’ file in her head. Her nostrils twitched. Grease, French fries, Seared meat—Yum.

And the swell of voices.

Her breath lodged in her throat and every bodily function seized. In the corners of the dining room, flat-screen televisions flashed images of white-teethed people spouting about the economic recovery, while ticker-tape updates scrolled across the bottom.

People talked—a mixture of Magpie chatter and the loud hush of children staying up past their bedtime.

Each flap of the jaw, each uncovered laugh, and each sneeze spread bugs—microbes— indelibly etched as the virus that caused the Rattling Death.

Blood drummed in Mavis’s ears, drowning out the sizzle of meat on the grill and crackle of a newly dunked batch of potatoes. Oh God! She’d exposed her niece and broken her promise to keep her safe. Numb fingers lost their grip on the door and it slowly slid home, sealing her and Sunnie inside with infected strangers.

She had to get her niece home where she’d be safe. Yet, her body remained stationary—even her breath was locked in the prison of her lungs. Thoughts of the last six months played like a film clip inside her head—mountains of corpses, dwindling resources and the relentless disease that resisted her efforts to annihilate it.

“Aunt Mavis?”

Pressure increased along the base of Mavis’s spine as Sunnie’s fingers spasmed against the small of Mavis’s back. Her chocolate-brown eyes widened as she scanned the restaurant’s occupants and her radiant smile faltered, then collapsed. Sighing, she looked at the packed tables. “I guess we can always get it to go.”

Go? Leave. Mavis nodded, and then shook her head. She dropped her hands to her sides. They were safe. For now. She had to remember that.

“Get it to go?” Mavis removed her hands from her pockets, released her pent-up breath, and flung the tension from her fingers. “Nonsense. We’ve waited a long time for this. It’s your nineteenth birthday celebration, remember?”

“The six-month anniversary of it.” Sunnie’s thin shoulders relaxed and a smile softened the tight skin around her eyes. “I thought I’d be twenty before they lifted the public gathering ban.”

“Exactly! Let’s not wait any longer to celebrate.” Mavis’s loafers squeaked on the wet tile as she trudged farther into the building. Her hands retreated to her pockets once more.

“Welcome to Burgers in a Basket.” A pimply-faced teen slapped her mop into a yellow bucket, and then rubbed her ear on her shoulder. Wheels squeaked as she eased the bucket backward. “We still have a few toys from the new animated movie, Hatshepsut.”

“Thank you.” Glancing over the girl’s shoulder, Mavis eyed the tan, smiling cartoon face. The Pyramids of Giza rose from the sand, and a cheeky crocodile basked in the sun behind the young woman. Despite the light-darkening film on the restaurant’s windows, the poster’s bright colors had faded over time.

Six months time to be exact, when the Arizona Department of Health Services had outlawed public gatherings. A good two months, before the Rattling Death had reached its peak.

Sunnie bumped her shoulder when she skipped past to stare at the picture. “We should go see it when the theaters open this weekend.” Ponytail wiggling over her shoulder, she glanced back at Mavis. “What do you say?”

Two public outings in the same week? The idea was a punch to her gut. All those people and their infectious bugs… Fingering the hand sanitizer in her pocket, Mavis felt her smile stiffen like setting cement. She hated to disappoint her niece, but… “Opening weekend is bound to be packed.”

Her attention drifted over the restaurant. A cashier stood behind the counter, waiting but not pushing—no doubt used to the hesitation, the fear of company. How many had walked in, only to walk out again? Not many, she’d bet. Only two booths remained empty of talking people spewing germs with every word, eager to connect with other human beings face-to-face.

The way nature had intended.

The way the Rattling Death had spread so effectively.

Rocking on her heels, Sunnie traced the large, white letters of last year’s scheduled release date. “This was Armand Strong’s last film.”

Armand Strong, the dark brooding hunk that’d set women’s hearts aflutter only to die—the first A-list Hollywood casualty—of the influenza. The first, but not the last. At least he’d be remembered as the James Dean of the new millennia. The mop hit the tile with a slurpy thump.

Mavis set her hand on Sunnie’s shoulder and gently squeezed it through the warm fleece jacket. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I don’t know…” After one last glance at the poster, Sunnie turned to the digital menu.

Not that the vast majority of Americans didn’t know the items by heart, but the outing was a treat to be savored, not rushed. No matter Mavis’s wishes, it was time to be in the company of mankind again. She eyed the ruby-red tomatoes, spring-green lettuce, golden fried chicken and perfectly browned burgers in the lush pictures. Saliva pooled in her mouth. Mmm. Fresh meat.

Her attention flickered to the first image and stuck like a gold-medal gymnast on landing. “I know what I’m having.”

“Me too!” Sunnie shashayed to the counter.

Mavis scuttled behind her, stomach growling as a buxom cook shook the excess oil from the fries before dumping the basket’s contents onto the silver bin underneath the heat lamps.

A tremor traveled up the cashier’s lanky frame before he smiled. “Welcome to Burgers in a Basket. What can I get for you today?”

“I’ll have a number ten with no Mayo, large-sized drink and fries.” Sunnie stroked the ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “And give me a sundae with strawberry topping and nuts.”

Holding his bottom lip between his teeth, the cashier punched the appropriate buttons. Saliva glistened on the pink skin in the fluorescent light when he looked up. “Anything else?”

Flinging her ponytail behind her back, Sunnie shook her head and stepped to the side. “Nope. Just don’t forget the nuts.”

Shuffling forward, Mavis eyed the spit on his lip. How many bugs clung to his flesh, waiting to launch at her the moment he spoke? She dragged her attention from his mouth and focused on his eyes. Nice eyes—blue like a clean, mountain lake.

They blinked at her now. His shoulders squared as time ticked by.

She’d been staring too long. Her palm sweated against the bottle of hand sanitizer. Mavis mentally shook herself, removed her hands from her pockets and steadied one on the strap of her leather purse. “I’ll have a number one, large-sized fries and a chocolate shake, with an extra cup for water.”

The cashier’s attention dropped to the register as he poked the buttons. When his fingers stopped, he read back the order. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, I—”

An elderly team member creaked by with a toy clasped between her gnarled fingers. Plastic crinkled around the plush crocodile in the bag, while powdered desiccant rolled along the bottom crease.