Page 62

It came again, louder this time, accompanied by a man’s voice. “Hello? Anyone there?”

A look passed between Mr and Mrs Wú.

“Tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” Kirby said.

Mrs Wú didn’t answer. She just slipped straight past us and headed down the stairs, with Mr Wú close behind her.

“I knew it. Couldn’t help themselves, could they?” Kirby took off after them, boots thudding.

Ava frowned. “What’s going on?”

“No idea.” I carried my pickaxe and Ava kept hold of Pearl as we followed the Wú family.

Kirby reached the bottom of the stairs, lingering in the doorway that led through to the restaurant. Ava and I stopped beside her.

Mrs Wú took a disposable mask from her pocket and secured the elastic over her ears. She opened the main door to a man standing on the footpath with pale skin and greasy hair, a backpack hanging from his right hand.

The second she answered, his shoulders sagged. “Sorry,” he said in a hurry. “Someone said you might still have food. I can swap—”

“No trade,” Mr Wú said from behind his wife. He headed off to the left out of sight, his pace bordering on a run.

“You wait here.” Mrs Wú joined him, hushed words passing between them.

The man’s features softened as he tracked their movements, then his gaze shifted to where we stood in the doorway, eavesdropping like a bunch of kids.

“I’m not a threat,” he said, taking in my pickaxe. “Not bitten. I’m just hungry. Haven’t eaten in a few days.”

“I get it,” Kirby said, keeping a close watch.

Ava let out a slow breath beside me. “They’re feeding people.”

“Looks like it,” I said.

Kirby’s dad handed over a plastic bag with a couple of containers stacked inside.

The man’s smile came quickly. He took the bag, thanking them over and over as he backed away and hurried down the footpath.

Mr Wú closed the door again and locked up, peeking through a gap in the blinds as the man disappeared.

Kirby’s mum looked over at us in our not-so-hidden spot. “Come eat.”

“We really need to keep going,” Ava said to me, keeping her voice low.

“You can stay long enough to eat something.” Kirby took Pearl from her and moved deeper into the restaurant, calling back over her shoulder, “Who knows when you’ll get another chance to eat food like this again.”

Maybe never.

She was right. We could leave here with full stomachs and take one concern off the table. “Half an hour,” I said. “Then we’ll go.”

Ava closed her eyes for a moment, as if mentally rearranging her priorities. When she opened them again, most of the worry had disappeared. “Okay.”

As we wandered into the restaurant, Kirby lowered Pearl to the floor and hovered between us and her parents.

The dog trotted straight over to Mr Wú and sat at his feet. He took in her small body and enormous eyes, then let out an audible breath through his nose. “We talk about this later.”

Kirby grinned, then whispered to Ava, “He never let me have a dog when I was a kid.”

With the electricity off and only weak daylight coming through the front windows, I took in the photos on the wall, the patterned wallpaper, and the red leather booths. A spike with a handful of old orders sat on the counter, and a stack of laminated menus had been left near the register.