she stared at the windshield wiper an inch from her nose. She collapsed onto her back and stared up at the purple sky. The world fast-forwarded until she joined the current time stream. Her heart mule-kicked her ribs and terror buzzed inside her skull like Africanized bees.
“No!” Sunnie’s screams pierced the falling darkness.
Not another arrow! Mavis shoved with her right hand. Tucking her other arm close, she rolled to the driver’s side. How long did it take to reload a bow, anyway? Her legs spun in empty space before her stomach squeezed into her esophagus.
Blacktop rose up to pummel her. Mavis extended her arms. Her palms slapped the pavement, then her knees. Joints popped, something creaked and a scream snagged in her dry throat. With the pebbles on the street acting as lubricant, her limbs slid out from under her. The breath left her lungs as she belly flopped.
Darkness crowded her vision. Breathe. She wracked her brain for the technique but only received an empty cartoon bubble.
What kind of genius forgot how to breathe?
Panic swam in the fringes of her control, and her heart pounded in her ears. God, what a stupid way to die—killed in a swan dive off a Honda. Just as her vision had been reduced to a pinpoint of color, she sucked in a lungful of air, and then gagged as a pebble and leaf hit the back of her throat. Mavis spat out the artifacts. If she’d had any inkling her day would go like this, she’d have stayed in bed.
For a month.
She rolled to her side and rested her head on her upper arm. Pain vibrated through her like she’d been struck with tuning fork. Head, shoulders, knees, toes. The aches mimicked the lyrics to a baby’s coordination activity. She blinked. And just how in Hades could her eyelashes hurt?
“Aunt Mavis?” Sunnie’s voice broke over her name before silence permeated the clearing.
Mavis opened her mouth. Instead of words, a moan slipped passed her lips.
“If she’s dead,” her niece yelled. “I’m going to shove your bow and arrows where the sun doesn’t shine, and I’m not talking about Alaska in wintertime.”
Mavis smiled then winced. Pain netted a chuckle before it could shake loose. Only a member of her family would threaten someone who held a weapon.
A weapon!
Sunnie! Mavis’s muscles trembled, but she whipped onto her belly and pushed to her feet. Her groan disappeared in the pops and creaks coming from her body. Forty-two had never seemed so old. Clammy handprints marked the path she used to claw up the Civic’s side. Peering through the driver’s side window, Mavis bit her lip to stop from screaming.
Sunnie stood between the arrow’s source and the car. “Do you hear me?”
The fool girl hadn’t even left a door open so she could dive into the Civic if more projectiles started flying.
“Sunnie!” Mavis hoisted herself to her feet. Her stomach cramped. So what if she’d just made herself a target again? She had to make sure the shooter didn’t target her niece. “Get inside the car!”
“Aunt Mavis.” Sunnie spun around. Her lips parted in a large smile and light blazed from her eyes. “You’re okay.”
Okay was a prognosis she might have in a week.
“I’m not shot if that’s what you mean.” Her niece might not say the same thing if she didn’t find cover soon. Hobbling around the car, Mavis approached Sunnie.
“Oh, you’re hurt.” The girl stepped closer to Mavis, away from the door, away from safety. Her attention swooped down to the ground before soaring back to Mavis’s face. “And you’ve lost a loafer.”
“I don’t care about the stupid shoe.” Gritting her teeth, Mavis toddled to a stop, placing herself between Sunnie and their sniper. “Just get into the car; I’m sure the shooter has reloaded by now.”
Sunnie crossed her arms and planted her feet hip’s width apart. “Obviously, Mr. Quartermain didn’t recognize us when he fired.”
Mavis swore, repeating the curse words in five languages.
“We
“No!” Sunnie’s screams pierced the falling darkness.
Not another arrow! Mavis shoved with her right hand. Tucking her other arm close, she rolled to the driver’s side. How long did it take to reload a bow, anyway? Her legs spun in empty space before her stomach squeezed into her esophagus.
Blacktop rose up to pummel her. Mavis extended her arms. Her palms slapped the pavement, then her knees. Joints popped, something creaked and a scream snagged in her dry throat. With the pebbles on the street acting as lubricant, her limbs slid out from under her. The breath left her lungs as she belly flopped.
Darkness crowded her vision. Breathe. She wracked her brain for the technique but only received an empty cartoon bubble.
What kind of genius forgot how to breathe?
Panic swam in the fringes of her control, and her heart pounded in her ears. God, what a stupid way to die—killed in a swan dive off a Honda. Just as her vision had been reduced to a pinpoint of color, she sucked in a lungful of air, and then gagged as a pebble and leaf hit the back of her throat. Mavis spat out the artifacts. If she’d had any inkling her day would go like this, she’d have stayed in bed.
For a month.
She rolled to her side and rested her head on her upper arm. Pain vibrated through her like she’d been struck with tuning fork. Head, shoulders, knees, toes. The aches mimicked the lyrics to a baby’s coordination activity. She blinked. And just how in Hades could her eyelashes hurt?
“Aunt Mavis?” Sunnie’s voice broke over her name before silence permeated the clearing.
Mavis opened her mouth. Instead of words, a moan slipped passed her lips.
“If she’s dead,” her niece yelled. “I’m going to shove your bow and arrows where the sun doesn’t shine, and I’m not talking about Alaska in wintertime.”
Mavis smiled then winced. Pain netted a chuckle before it could shake loose. Only a member of her family would threaten someone who held a weapon.
A weapon!
Sunnie! Mavis’s muscles trembled, but she whipped onto her belly and pushed to her feet. Her groan disappeared in the pops and creaks coming from her body. Forty-two had never seemed so old. Clammy handprints marked the path she used to claw up the Civic’s side. Peering through the driver’s side window, Mavis bit her lip to stop from screaming.
Sunnie stood between the arrow’s source and the car. “Do you hear me?”
The fool girl hadn’t even left a door open so she could dive into the Civic if more projectiles started flying.
“Sunnie!” Mavis hoisted herself to her feet. Her stomach cramped. So what if she’d just made herself a target again? She had to make sure the shooter didn’t target her niece. “Get inside the car!”
“Aunt Mavis.” Sunnie spun around. Her lips parted in a large smile and light blazed from her eyes. “You’re okay.”
Okay was a prognosis she might have in a week.
“I’m not shot if that’s what you mean.” Her niece might not say the same thing if she didn’t find cover soon. Hobbling around the car, Mavis approached Sunnie.
“Oh, you’re hurt.” The girl stepped closer to Mavis, away from the door, away from safety. Her attention swooped down to the ground before soaring back to Mavis’s face. “And you’ve lost a loafer.”
“I don’t care about the stupid shoe.” Gritting her teeth, Mavis toddled to a stop, placing herself between Sunnie and their sniper. “Just get into the car; I’m sure the shooter has reloaded by now.”
Sunnie crossed her arms and planted her feet hip’s width apart. “Obviously, Mr. Quartermain didn’t recognize us when he fired.”
Mavis swore, repeating the curse words in five languages.
“We
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