Her hand hit something soft, not keys. Shay dared to let her fingers explore the softness. It felt like jeans. Something groaned. Then claws clasped her wrist.
Shay screamed, punched and kicked the softness, which groaned again and let go.
“Help,” it may have said.
Once freed, she thrust herself away, hit the opposite wall, then clambered to her feet. Running blind through the dark, Shay took whatever turns the hall presented; she just needed to be away from whatever had groaned.Visions of Nani’s blackened, gaunt, dead face, eyes glistening, flashed in the darkness. She ran from the visions, had to escape these ghosts. Exit. She needed an exit.
Red signs were her only guide. EXIT. EXIT. Her hands slammed into a dead end. From the cold and the corrugation, Shay guessed it was a sealed-over freight delivery door.
Shay banged on the metal. Let me out! she screamed in her mind, afraid if she spoke in real life, the echoes would materialize into people. That the ghosts would be real.
The freight door didn’t give when she struck it. All the doors from the mall to the world must have been sealed over with concrete, permanently shut. She would die in this place. All of them were being left to die in this place.
• • •
Marco rolled off his cot and crawled down the narrow aisle to the far wall. He traveled light, just his card key, wallet, and iPod—no way he was getting rid of it, even though without Internet or a charger cord, once the battery died, it would be dead weight. He’d never changed into the boxers and shirt he’d been given to sleep in—like he was going to go nighty-night amidst that pack of wolves? Hells to the no.
He made it to the nearest stockroom door and slipped through it unnoticed. There were no lights on. The place smelled weird. Then Marco saw a lighter flash in a far corner. So this is where the party’s starting. Marco had wondered how people would take going from complete freedom to incarceration. Apparently, incarceration had won out for a few hours and now the natives were restless. He was glad to be getting out while the getting was good.
The door to the service hallways was thankfully closer to him than to the lighter flame, so he escaped without incident. Alas, the halls were dark, which made everything suck that much more. Marco groped along the passage, hoping to find an exit before something found him.
No such luck. Footsteps slapped toward him. Then arms slammed into his back.
“Out of the way, loser!” a voice cackled, tearing past Marco.
Okay, maybe this was worse than the Lord & Taylor. At least there were a few security guards in the Lord & Taylor.
As Marco weighed the pros and cons of returning to the at least semi-policed chaos of the men’s Home Store, a familiar voice echoed down the passage to his right.
“Help,” Shay whispered. “Someone? Help.”
Marco ran through the black toward her voice. What the hell was she doing here? Shouldn’t she be in the med center? She had a serious head injury!
He turned a corner and heard a door rattle. Marco dashed toward the noise and ran smack into Shay. She screamed and Marco jumped back.
“Shay, it’s me! It’s Marco!”
She burst into tears and threw her arms around him.
He stroked her hair. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “I’m here. You’re safe.” He was not sure why he said this. Like he could protect her from anything.
Her body went limp, as if her bones had evaporated. “I’m so scared,” she whispered.
“Let’s get you back to the med center.”
“Kicked me out,” Shay mumbled.
“Then the JCPenney,” Marco said, assuming she had been thrown in with the rest of the chicas.
Shay nodded against his chest.
Marco used his iPod as a light, flashing it for brief moments to find landmarks—a name on a door, a corner—and managed to wind his way through stockrooms and passages to a door marked JCPENNEY. Shay clung to him like she couldn’t take a step without support.
“Why did they kick you out?” he asked, trying to take her mind off whatever had happened to her in the tunnel before he found her. He prayed it was just the dark. If it was something worse, he would find whoever hurt her and kill the bastard.
“No room,” she said, her voice barely hissing beyond her teeth. “I’m all alone in there.”
Marco slid his card through the reader and opened the door. “It’s safer in here,” he said, leading her into the stockroom. “Just stay the night, and tomorrow, I’ll find us someplace to hide.”
She nuzzled closer to him. Warmth flared over his skin.
“And Preeti?” she managed. “We have to protect her.”
Marco stopped in front of the door leading to the sales floor. “And Preeti. I am going to take care of you both.” He liked saying the words. It was as if by saying them, they could be true. A dream blinked into his brain, him and Shay and Preeti hiding out in a stockroom, all the food they needed, no one bothering them, safe until whenever this nightmare ended. Him and Shay. Together.
Shay leaned her head against the door frame. “’Til tomorrow, then,” she said.
Marco, unable to control his lips, leaned forward and pressed them to her forehead.
Shay stiffened. “Please,” she said, pushing him away. “I can’t.”
And a part of Marco seethed. She can’t with me. But the better part won out.
“Okay,” he said, pulling back. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Shay said, smiling.
“I’ll find you after Lights On.”
Shay nodded and slipped back into the neat, quiet rows of sleepers.
Marco tracked back to the service door only to hear voices on the opposite side. Not wanting to risk another encounter in the black, he padded to the opposite side of the stockroom. There were several different large rooms back here, all of them stuffed with the original contents of the sales floors. Sequins sparkled in his dim light, and his pants caught on errant hangers and poles from the haphazardly disposed-of racks.
• • •
Lexi sat on a desk in an office of some sort. She’d wandered after leaving Maddie and found her way into the stockrooms. When Lights Out was announced, she’d stumbled into this office, closed the door, and flipped on the light. Searching the room, she came upon two significant prizes: (1) an old CD player with a cache of not-too-terrible CDs, and (2) a bag of peanut M&M’S. Satisfied this was the best the place had to offer, she’d turned the lights off and enjoyed her feast with a Beatles accompaniment playing softly. She was halfway through Revolver and had two M&M’S left when someone slammed into the other side of the wall against which she was leaning.
Unable to leave well enough alone, Lexi slid off the desk and tiptoed to the door. Peeking outside, under the dim light of the one bulb left burning in the stockroom, she saw a boy wrestling with a display rack.
And not just any boy. A lanky, nerdy-looking guy. And judging from the amount of space he’d covered before becoming ensnared in the racks, at home enough in the dark that he probably spent too much time indoors, perhaps playing video games; this was his element. This was also Lexi’s element. This boy was her people.
She suddenly wished she was back in Maddie’s outfit. She wanted to look hot for this guy, even if it meant breaking out in a sweater-induced mega-rash.
What would Maddie do? Say something flirty, be confident.
“I think you won,” Lexi said.
The guy gave his cargo pants one final jerk and freed himself from the wretched rack. Looking up, he squinted at her, then smiled—he wasn’t wearing a mask. Does that smile mean he likes what he sees?
“I would hope I’d have the advantage over a clothes hanger,” he said.
Lexi liked his face. It wasn’t model-nice, but wasn’t bad, either. “Do
n’t get cocky,” she said. “I had my money on the rack for a few seconds.”
“The thing did rip my cargo pants,” he said. “I guess we’ll call it a draw.”
Lexi didn’t get a slick vibe from him. He wasn’t giving her a line. Sarcasm was his normal mode. It was also Lexi’s. She kind of didn’t want him to go. “So what brings you to the JCPenney after Lights Out? Did a girlfriend let you in?” She might as well find that out now.
He considered his answer a moment longer than Lexi would have liked.
“A friend who is a girl let me in,” he said. “We have been helping each other out and she asked me to check on her. She was scared to be separated.”
Lexi did not buy this excuse. How did they know when to meet? It was a long time after Lights Out. And how did he find his way through the service hallways to get from the Lord & Taylor to here? And why lie to her?
“That smells like a load of crap, but whatever. I don’t really care. Go on with your operation.” She let him hang on that line, turned and went back into her office.
He followed her. “Is this your room?” he asked, flipping on the light.
Lexi couldn’t help but smile that he’d followed. “It is now,” she said, hopping onto her desk. She held out the last two M&M’S. “Want one?”
“Thanks,” he said, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, luxuriously.
Lexi slid the yellow M&M between her lips. If neither of them could speak, then he couldn’t leave. The candy was gone all too quickly. “You going to tell me the truth now?” she said, trying to keep up her confident front. “Like what you’re really doing in the back of the JCPenney after eleven on a Saturday. I mean, the place closes at nine according to the sign on the door.”
He laughed. “You got me. I’m into women’s clothing and needed to stock up on evening wear for the Halloween drag ball.”
Lexi had completely forgotten about Halloween. How sad was that? Not that she dressed up. She and Darren hadn’t dressed up in years. No, they liked to hide in the bushes outside his house and scare the crap out of the little trick-or-treaters (obviously the Senator allowed no pranks to be played on her government-funded lawn).
“I’m just kidding,” he added.
Lexi came back into the present. “Sorry,” she said. “Very funny. I just had forgotten about Halloween. Weird how it feels like time should have stopped, like the world should be on pause until we’re out of here.”
“Yeah,” he said.
Had she said something wrong? He had withdrawn into himself, shrunken like a raisin. “I’m Lexi,” she said, wanting to bring him back.
“Marco,” he said, then seemed to regret it.
There was a knock at the door. They looked at each other. Lexi kicked out the desk chair and Marco dove into the darkness under the desk. Lexi dragged the chair back with her feet as the door opened.
“What are you doing back here?” the guard said. He glanced around, suspicious.
Lexi weighed playing dumb against pulling the mom card. She decided on the mom card. “I’m the Senator’s daughter.”
“Oh,” the guard said. He seemed to weigh options himself. “You can’t be back here after Lights Out.”
Lexi slid off the desk. “Oh, okay,” she said. “My mom had said I could take a break back here if I needed to.”
“I never heard about that.”
“I guess she forgot to tell people,” Lexi said, walking toward the door, opening it for the guard. “I’ll be back here every night after Lights Out.” She hoped Marco got her message—I’m here if you want to hang out. However he’d gotten in here, she felt pretty sure he could get in again.
The guard took the door and held it open for her. Lexi walked through, wishing she could have said good-bye. But really, where was Marco going to go? They were trapped in here. She would see him again. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
Maddie was still awake when Lexi returned to the cot. “Where have you been? I’m wired and there’s nothing to do.”
“I found a boy in the stockroom,” Lexi said, unable to keep it to herself. She’d met a boy.
Maddie was all ears at the mention of boys. “Are you telling me there’s a party in the stockroom and you are just letting me in on it now?”
“A boy, singular.” Lexi stretched out on the cot, hands behind her head. “And he wasn’t your type.”
“At this point,” Maddie mumbled, flopping back on her pillow, “any boy is my type.”
“Well, he’s gone now. And we just talked.”
“What a waste.”
It hadn’t been a waste. Lexi would find him again. He was her people. She’d finally found her people.
• • •
Marco waited five minutes before crawling out from under the desk. He crept to the door and cracked it open. With only the one lit bulb, it was hard to know if the coast was clear, but he needed to get out of there, so he just ran for it.
“I knew she wasn’t alone in there.” The guard emerged from the shadows.
Before Marco had a chance to utter a syllable, the guy fired the Taser and a jolt like fire in the blood sent Marco into a swirl of darkness.
DAY
EIGHT
L
I
G
H
T
S
ON
Lexi had just finished brushing her teeth when an announcement beckoned her to the mall offices.
Maddie, who stood at the next sink, splashed water at her. “Uh-oh,” she said, miming concern, “did Mommy Dearest find out about your new boyfriend?”
Lexi froze. Supercrapafragilistic.
“Hello, I’m joking,” Maddie said, drying her hands on her shirt. “Breathe.”
Lexi took a breath. “My mom and I have issues.” Like that began to cover the minefield that was Lexi’s relationship with the Senator.
“Join the club,” Maddie said. “See you at break-slop?”
Lexi groaned thinking of her first freeze-dried slurry meal. “I guess.”
She had to ask where exactly the mall offices were, but once inside, she knew where her mother’s office was located. The Senator’s screaming voice emanated from the room at the end of the hall.
“I said I did not want a police state!” she barked. “We need to develop trust and you have your men out Tasering every breathing body they find!”
A guy who looked to have gorged too often on the potato chips sat opposite her mother. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and his face looked like a cartoon of a face, all round and red with beady eyes under bushy brows. He cleared his throat before responding.
“You have a rat problem, Senator,” he grumbled. “And you have to put rats in cages.”
“They’re kids, Hank,” her mother said, “not rodents. I want them to fall into line and your policy is not helping with that goal.”
Hank put his hands on his thighs and pushed himself to standing. “It’s your call,” he said, “but you invite rats to dinner, you can’t complain when they sh—” He noticed Lexi in the doorway. “. . . crap all over the carpet.”
The Senator waved Lexi toward her. Lexi obliged, and even let her mother kiss the side of her head. “Good morning, sweetheart,” Dotty said, her voice sounding tired. Her mother’s eyes looked bruised. When was the last time she got any sleep?
“You called for me?” Lexi said.
“I need you to go with Hank to check in all the young people his team collected last night.” The Senator handed Lexi a laptop bag. “Your father hasn’t trained anyone on the system yet and he can’t type as fast with only the one arm.”
Lexi glanced at Hank. He was giving her the once-over too, and did not look that impressed. Lexi straightened herself and put on her serious face.
“Sure,” she said, “no problem.”
“She needs clothes,” Hank said. “That shirt is see-through.”
Lexi hugged the laptop to her chest. If the shirt is see-through, that means the guy last night might have seen . . . How many times in one week can you wish yourself deleted from the universe?
“Here,” Dotty said, handing Lexi a hoodie. “Put this on and get going.”
Lexi kissed her mother, not caring that this was the first time she’d done so in weeks—she was that grateful for the sweatshirt. She tugged it on, zipped it up, and pushed past Hank into the hallway.
• • •
Marco was kicked awake by a passing boot. He coughed, then fished a splinter of wood from his mouth—how that had gotten in there, he did not want to know. Patting down his clothing, he found that his person was unmolested. More importantly, the universal card key was still safe in his pocket. Perhaps that was the best he could hope for considering with whom he’d been sharing a cell.
He’d spent a miserable night in the old med center/PaperClips surrounded by just the sorts of people you’d expect to find in the drunk tank of a local lockup. There were a few older guys, most looking wary of their fellow inmates, but by far the majority of this crowd was teens and college-aged kids, grouped according to clothing type: goths in black pleather, jocks in jerseys, would-be ganstas in baggy shorts with ’do rags on their heads. All kids Marco would have hated had they met at school—he could tell just by the looks they gave him.
He curled his knees in and sat pressed against the wall. He figured if he made himself small, he’d stay off people’s radar. The room felt like the Thunderdome—they’d all entered, but only one would leave.
If this was what he’d face in the service halls every night, he needed to rethink his entire plan. He needed Mike with him at all times to defend against these dickheads. But how to convince paranoid Mike to leave his nice little bunker in the garage?
“Get up, people!”
The heavyset guy from yesterday in the senator’s office pushed through the double doors from the stockroom. Behind him were two guards in full riot gear and the senator’s kid. Lexi.
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