Page 14 of Even If the Sky is Falling
Tarek finally lost his cheerfulness but unfortunately, his incredulous snort was as attractive as his grin. “Excuse me? I had no idea the flea market could only support one Pakistani food business. Also, aren’t you selling a paneer sandwich? I’ve had at least three customers rave about it in the last hour alone.”
People were raving about her sandwich? She filed that tidbit to celebrate later. “I need to sell my sandwich so people know how good my sauces and spices are!”
“And I need to sell my sauce because everyone wants it after trying my sandwich!”
Maya’s lips pursed as she stared at him. “Why am I not surprised that a Mizra is a self-serving ass?”
He shook his head, disappointed. “Maya Jafari, you may look the same, but you’re not the sweet girl I remember. I would say it was nice to see you again, but it wasn’t.” He turned and left her booth.
Maya hoped that creepy clown doll attacked that stupid-hot face on his way back to his truck.
2
The Verona County Flea Market was in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Georgia, about a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Atlanta. And since it opened at 7:30 a.m. on Saturdays, it didn’t make sense for Maya to drive all the way to Atlanta Fridays after closing, only to come back so early the next morning. The market was near a quaint little village with an antique train as well as hotels and motels, but Maya didn’t want to eat into her profits by renting a room. The van was comfortable enough to sleep in.
After closing at five, Maya tidied up and said goodbye to Radha, who was heading back to Atlanta for a date with her girlfriend before returning at ten the next day. Maya then headed to her van. She settled in the passenger seat to read before eating the dinner her mother had packed. After about twenty minutes, Maya’s e-reader went blank. Damn, she’d forgotten to charge it in the booth earlier. She’d been looking forward to reading the new paranormal romance by her favorite author all week. The old van’s battery wasn’t great, so she never used it to charge electronics. She grabbed her e-reader and her bag, locked the van and headed back inside. It was six fifteen, so security should still be in the market.
She didn’t see the security guard, Angela, as she headed straight to Masala Girls and plugged in the e-reader. The flea market seemed deserted, but Maya knew Angela did a final sweep before locking up around seven. Maya figured she’d charge until security kicked her out. She sat behind her counter and read.
But as usual when engrossed in a book, Maya lost track of the time. She’d just read a supersteamy sex scene when a loud piercing wail echoed through the building. “Fuck!” Maya stood and grabbed her phone.
It sounded like the disaster warning system...but that was supposed to be testednextweek. Living in a world constantly primed for disaster was a challenge for a pessimist, and Maya coped with therapy, and by keeping on top of information, so the date of the test was burned in her brain. It was supposed to happen next week. The alarm had been created to warn people that something was hurling at the planet again to kill them all. Or kill enough of them to make earth into actual hell for those who survived. Maya was one hundred percent in favor of the government creating this alarm, but she didn’t like that it was blaring now, outside of the scheduled test.
This was a real, actual disaster. Heart beating heavily in her ears, Maya checked Twitter to confirm.
But Twitter wouldn’t load. Neither would Instagram, Facebook or even TikTok. Maya’s phonewasworking, but she couldn’t connect to any Wi-Fi or cellular service.
OMG. This was bad. Worst-case scenarios flashed through her mind. Everyone was going to die, including her, her parents, her sister and her cat. Heart racing, Maya had to sit back down because her knees didn’t seem capable of holding her up.
Itcouldbe a false alarm. The market management had handed out letters about what to do if the alarm sounded a few months ago. Maya, of course, remembered the instructions, but she still grabbed them from the paperwork under the counter to confirm.
Apparently, anytime the alarm went off outside of the scheduled tests, everyone should assume that it was anactive disaster. And in an active disaster, everyone was required to take cover immediately. Underground was best, but failing that, far from windows and doors. Management suggested that the antique hall was the safest place to be since it was in the center of the building. Three loud blasts from the alarm system would indicate when it was safe.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.Maya could not...wouldnot be stuck alone in a giant flea market for the end of the world. No, thank you.
Wait—not alone. The security guard was out there somewhere. Maybe she had a working phone. Maya grabbed her bag and useless phone and headed out of her booth to find Angela.
The antique hall was dim—since the overhead lights were now off. It was past seven, and the sun was already setting in the late-September sky. Turning on her phone flashlight, she searched the aisles for anyone. Thankfully, so far no creepy clowns. This was fine. As she passed a booth that sold only sixties TV show paraphernalia, Maya heard a noise behind her. She turned but didn’t see anyone. She was about to start walking again when she saw some movement out of the corner of her eye. It was from a booth that sold old theater props. There was someone in there. Security hopefully? Or maybe the owner of the booth? Maya stepped inside. There was a dress form wearing a very ornate Victorian or Edwardian dress...and it wasmoving.
Great.A haunted, headless dress form come to life during the end of the world. Even Maya’s most disaster-imagining self couldn’t have dreamed this one up.
There is no such thing as ghosts, she repeated to herself.Nothing can hurt me more than my own imagination.
That last mantra was one her therapist came up with, but Maya was skeptical it did anything. Her own imagination was vicious. She leaned down and gingerly lifted the skirts and petticoats of the black velvet dress.
“Meow.”
A cat. There was a cat in there. A big fluffy orange and white cat.
“Hello, beautiful,” Maya said, putting her hand out. The cat cowered in the skirts, clearly frightened. “I’m not going to hurt you. Aren’t you a pretty baby?”
The cat leaned forward to smell her hand. Maya had never seen a cat at the flea market before—whose was this? It was wearing a collar, so clearly not a stray. It nuzzled Maya’s hand. She smiled as she scratched the top of its soft head. Maya was a total cat lady. Alone in a flea market for the end of the world was a nightmare, alone in a flea market for the end of the world with a fluffy cat was significantly less harrowing.
“Whoever you are,thank Godyou found Percy,” a voice behind Maya said. A male voice. A male voice that startled Maya so hard she fell from her crouching position flat onto her butt, taking the dress form with her, and understandably causing the cat to bolt out into the darkness.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry, are you okay?” the voice said again, reaching for the dress form.
It was dark, but Maya closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. She knew that voice. Apparently, she would be spending the end of the world with a fluffy cat named Percy, and Tarek Mizra.
