Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I) Read Free

Swallowing a chuckle, Mavis cleared her throat. “We’ll have two cups, please.”
    The cashier nodded, peeked under his lashes at Sunnie, and then pressed a key twice. “That’ll be thirty dollars and sixteen cents.”
    Mavis swallowed hard. Lord, love a duck! That’s more than twice what she’d have paid, before the Rattling Death.
    Sunnie bumped her arm, before slapping money on the stainless steel counter. “I have a ten.”
    “Don’t be silly!” Heat rippled over Mavis, settling in her face. Her fingers slipped off her purse’s zipper twice, before she managed to grasp the tab. The metal parted with a low growl. “This is my treat. It’s your birthday remember?”
    The clerk’s attention bounced from her to Sunnie then back again. “Burgers in a Basket accepts credit and debit cards.”
    “How nice for you.” The little twerp! Embarrassment singed Mavis’s ears. She unsnapped her wallet’s front compartment. The edges of neatly folded bills fanned against the black satin interior.
    “Never?” Sunnie drummed her fingers on her ten-dollar bill. “Not even when the Redaction was at its height?”
    Mavis winced at the internet term for the Rattling Death. God, how callous the cyber world could be. Pretending the largest influenza pandemic in human history was nothing more than the government eliminating swaths of the population with a black pen.
    “Not even then.” The clerk dipped under the counter for a tray. Water sprinkled the metal surface when he set it down.
    At least, they were taking their cleaning seriously. Mavis snapped the compartment shut before moving on to the one on the back of her wallet. “Credit cards hold less germs than paper or coins, and the clerks get the bonus of not having to touch either—reducing the spread of infection.”
    She had written that memo the first official week of the pandemic. Greed had stopped many businesses from heeding it. They’d wanted greenbacks, gold and silver and it had showed in the soaring body count.
    “Your company must care about its employees.” Or money. Following the rules meant the burger joint’s drive-thru remained open. After unsnapping the right compartment, she sifted through business cards until she came upon a gift card for the restaurant. She presented the red and green plastic with a flourish before swiping it through the reader.
    “Yes, ma’am.” The clerk ducked his head, but not before she saw the whites of his eyes flash.
    Teenagers! Mavis sighed and filed the card back in her wallet. Just once, she’d like their expression to freeze in a mask of insolence, forcing them to go through life staring at the tops of their skulls.
    The Point of Service machine beeped its approval just as a team member bustled over with two red plastic baskets. Shoestring fries poked through the open weave, while a burger perched on top of the mound of golden slivers of potatoes.
    The door opened, adding to the buzz of voices inside. Cold crept along the floor to envelop her ankles.
    “I’ll get my drink and find us a table.” Sunnie grabbed her upside-down cup off the tray and skipped over to the soda fountain.
    While the cashier greeted the newcomers, the machine in front of the wrinkled team member whirred with the contents of her shake. Mavis sidled away from the family of four. Had they survived intact?
    As if feeling her gaze, the mother glanced in Mavis’s direction. Dull gray eyes swept over her to settle on the stack of wooden highchairs. She gripped her school-age daughter’s jacket. White tipped her knuckles. Muscle roped her neck when she swallowed. For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut. The motion highlighted the fatigue bruising the delicate skin under her sockets.
    Mavis’s stomach cramped. Guess it was too much to ask for one family to have escaped the pestilence unscathed. Nodding to the old woman who placed the chocolate shake on the tray, Mavis grabbed the food and turned around. Where was her niece? Faces turned