The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,15

and shelves were so full that some were nearly overflowing. Keira took one of the wire baskets waiting beside the door and let her feet lead her into the nearest aisle.

Twenty won’t get me much, she realized as she read some of the prices. Especially as I need more than just food.

She wove through the maze until she found the personal hygiene section, then picked out the cheapest toothbrush and soap available. The shampoo was expensive, so Keira passed on it and returned to the food section while calculating how much she had left to spend. Her mouth filled with saliva as she saw a lasagna in the freezer. She made to open the door but hesitated.

Rice, her mind whispered. Potatoes. High calorie and low cost. The idea came from her subconscious, and Keira was hardly surprised. Of course Old Keira would be adept at shopping with pennies. Old Keira probably knew which were the best bushes to sleep under too. She allowed herself the indulgence of a dramatic, longing sigh, then turned away from the lasagna and went in search of the dry goods.

Her basket was heavy by the time she turned toward the checkout. It was simultaneously reassuring and frightening; the food should last her at least a couple of days, but there wouldn’t be any more until she found a way to earn money.

I might have my memories by then. There was only one person ahead of her at the checkout, so Keira joined the queue and did her best to fade into the background. Though I’m not sure how much good those memories will do. Adage might be able to help me find some unskilled job around town. I could garden or wash windows for a few dollars…

When the woman ahead finished paying and took her shopping, Keira stepped forward. She kept her head down as she unloaded the bags of rice, hoping the assistant would let her complete the transaction without any small talk.

No such luck.

“You’re new here.” The phrase was said curiously, almost wonderingly, and Keira raised her eyes.

The lady behind the checkout looked completely at odds with the quaint town. Violently red lipstick and dark eyeliner made her features pop, and her cropped hair was almost unnaturally black. She looked young—about Keira’s age—and her brown eyes were wide and sparkling. “What sort of ghastly bad luck landed you in Blighty?”

It was exactly the sort of conversation Keira had been trying to avoid. She managed a tight smile. “Just passing through.”

“No you’re not.” The woman propped her forearms on the bag of rice and bent forward, examining Keira’s face with far more interest than Keira appreciated. “This is Blighty. No one ‘passes through.’ It’s not close to anywhere and doesn’t bridge any other towns, and its only claim to fame is being a miserable hole where dreams go to die.”

Keira was lost for words. She glanced toward the store’s door, barely six paces away, then looked behind herself. A short queue had formed, but both parties were deliberately facing away, clearly not wanting to get roped into the discussion. She cleared her throat. “Uh…I think it’s a nice town.”

The sales assistant bent even closer, leaning so far over the counter that she managed to invade Keira’s personal space. One hand came up to tap at her lower lip as she narrowed her eyes. “I saw a dead guy outside my bedroom window last night. Now you, the first stranger I’ve seen in months, are standing in my store barely twelve hours later. Don’t expect me to believe that’s a coincidence.”

“What?” Keira stared at the assistant, then looked back at the other shoppers. They continued to ignore her. Is this a joke? Is she crazy? Did she seriously see a dead person? Does it have anything to do with—

The assistant’s eyes took on a fanatical glint as she somehow managed to stretch another inch nearer. Her voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Give it to me straight. Are we part of a government experiment?”

This can’t be happening. My life is already too complicated. I’m not getting paid enough to deal with…whatever this is.

“Okay, okay, I understand.” The woman finally slid back behind her counter and raised both hands reassuringly, though the effect was ruined by a conspiratorial wink. “You don’t want to be overheard. Tell you what, I’ll buy you a coffee, and we can go over this somewhere a bit more private.” She pointed to a faded white name tag stuck to her chest.