Lexi took her tray to a large, empty picnic table. She wanted to make sure there was room for Maddie and Ginger when they showed. She even took her plate off its tray to keep her footprint to a minimum on the tabletop. Her eyes scanned the crowds. Where were they? Why hadn’t they been released yet?
As she scraped spoonfuls into her mouth, one after the other, it became harder to pretend Maddie and Ginger were ever going to join her, which meant she needed Marco. She’d had no luck finding him earlier, and ended up in trouble with her geriatric supervisor for being late back from break. The old bat put her on extra laundry duty for the afternoon. This meant lunch was her only time to find Marco until dinner, but alas, she didn’t see him in the crowd.
The perimeter of the first-floor courtyard was surrounded by guards in full riot gear. Lexi wondered where the armed civilians were stationed. And why were they all on high alert? Something must have happened. The “deviants” must have done something to piss Goldman off.
Lexi found she was no longer hungry. What if something happened? What if there was another riot? What then? She was alone—her father was maybe dead, her mother was locked away with her job, and her friends had been taken from her. She felt the weight of that dead body crushing her spine. Heard the screams of those trapped around her. She couldn’t breathe.
“Miss, are you all right?” A man placed his tray on the table, then held Lexi’s shoulder.
Lexi couldn’t control her breathing. Her throat felt like it was collapsing, the room began to spin. Her heart beat in her ears.
“I think I need some help here!” the man cried.
Lexi felt herself lifted up and laid on a gurney. She watched the black of the skylights pass above her before everything went black.
• • •
Marco was shaken awake by Mike. The lights in the ceiling, though dim by mall standards, still probed his brain like ice picks. He had a hangover of epic proportions. “If you keep shaking me, I will puke,” he mumbled.
Mike dropped his shoulder. “You seen Shrimp? He and the girl aren’t here.”
So she did ask him. . . . It had been a bit of a test: Was she wearing his shirt because she was leaving Ryan or because she was cold and the shirt had been there? Did she even know it was Marco’s? Apparently, she had put the shirt on for reasons having nothing to do with him. She had gone back for Ryan, asked him to join her, and clearly he had.
Marco eased himself up to sit against the wall. He needed its support for his throbbing brain. “They left,” he said. “Shay wants to rescue her sister.”
Mike looked confused. “Are they coming back?”
“I would bet not.”
Now Mike looked angry. He gritted his teeth, then spit on the floor. “Screw him. Fine.” He turned to the rest of the sleepers. “Everybody up! We have crap to get done!”
It took a while to get everyone up and moving. Mike acted like this was the army, but this was more like a sleepover. The girls were annoyed at not having a bathroom. The guys were happy to piss down the stairwell. The bathroom situation was one in need of solving, so of course Mike looked to Marco.
“Take them somewhere,” he said, like Marco was a counselor at his camp.
“I gave Shay my card,” Marco said, feeling oddly free.
“What?” Mike looked ready to tear him a new asshole.
“It was half hers anyway,” Marco said, a dizzy lightness mixing with the nausea and pounding headache.
“How the hell could you have given it away?” Mike said, sounding less angry than exasperated. “How the hell are we supposed to survive without it?”
“We were in need of a more permanent solution anyway,” Marco said. “I have some ideas.”
He hefted a crowbar from the pile of weapons. Marco walked past the stunned crowd and slammed the hooked edge of the thing into the wall above the door. After a few slams, he was able to wrench apart the drywall exposing the wires of the magnetic door lock system.
“Perfect,” Marco said, pointing to the hole.
“This solves nothing,” Mike growled.
“It solves everything,” Marco said, suddenly needing the support of the wall again. “See,” he said, closing his eyes and pressing his temples for a moment. “If you rip those wires out, you cut the power to the lock. It’ll be open season for everyone, card or no.”
Drew was the first fan of this tactic. “We’ll have free run of the place,” he said.
Mike was less thrilled. “Won’t security notice that their doors are off line?”
“Security has a lot of things to worry about,” Marco said, still trying to stem the throbbing in his skull. “Broken doors will be merely one in a list of hundreds of things they have to manage.”
Drew took the lead with the defense of the plan. “If we all head out in different directions, busting doors and stuff, they’ll have no idea where to strike first. It’s brilliant, Taco.” He held up his hand for a fist bump. Marco missed on his first try, hit weakly on the second.
Mike was still frowning. “It slows us down. But you’ve left us with no other options.” He perched himself on top of a stack of boxes. “And it doesn’t change my plans.” Mike proposed that they recruit more people to their cause. “We’re going to need more food at some point and we need our own private army if we’re going to get into the Sam’s Club.”
“I think I smell a party coming on,” Drew said, throwing an arm around Mike.
“Party, recruitment, whatever, I just need people. You guys get them here, then we organize our move on the Sam’s Club.”
Drew and the Tarrytown guys high-fived like they had this covered. Mike, however, turned to the girls. “More guys will come if they think there will be girls, so you’re in charge of recruitment. You guys work on this door situation with Marco.”
Drew seemed crestfallen. “And you? What are you doing?”
“Coming up with a way to get us into the Sam’s Club.”
Marco grabbed a water bottle from the dwindling pile and joined Mike as he stalked up the steps toward the stairwell to his “office.” “You need help?” he asked, swigging the water like it was life itself.
“You’re lucky I don’t plant your ass through the wall,” Mike growled.
“Busting the doors will be better in the long run,” Marco said, unfazed. “This way, we can split into groups. Less chance of getting caught all in one fell swoop.”
“You should have talked to me about it.”
“You want me to talk to you about things, then you let me in on planning.”
Mike paused at the door to the projection booth stairs. “Fine,” he said. “You babysit Drew and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, then I’ll let you in on my plans.”
Marco nodded. It was a good enough start.
• • •
Ryan had no idea what he was doing, but he knew that the alternative—letting Shay go—was not possible. Where he would live, how he would eat once she returned to the real mall, he had no idea. But they were together, and somehow Shay had gotten hold of Marco’s magic card, and for now, that was all he needed.
They wound their way down service halls, trying to use store names as a guide through the crisscrossing passages, until they found Target, then crossed to the opposite side of the mall through its abandoned and heavily picked over stockroom, and began their twisting way back toward the center of the mall and down a level to the food court. Shay’s plan was to find Preeti there and try to talk to her, patch things up. She kept muttering her apology as they walked down the halls.
“Is she really going to be that pissed?” Ryan had never felt so entitled as to be angry with his older brother. Thad had abandoned him plenty of times, sometimes on the bad nights when Dad was rampaging. Ryan had hid in his closet and waited things out. When Thad resurfaced, Ryan would be grateful, not angry.
“I promised I wouldn’t leave her,” Shay said. “Then I did.”
Ryan still found the idea ludicrous. If he had yelled at Thad, it would have driven Thad away, not made him guilty enough to risk arrest to patch things up. Still, this was Shay, not Thad. Ryan recognized that there was a world of difference between the two.
When they reached a door leading out into the food court, Shay told Ryan to wait in the service halls. “You don’t need to get caught our first hour out in the mall,” she said.
He agreed, but then snuck out after her, hiding in their usual spot in the abandoned Magic Wok. He would not let her out of his sight.
Shay wandered out into the crowds of kids and adults, peering into each. Then a tall guy approached her. Ryan remembered him—the one who’d constantly interrupted their meetings. What was his name? Kris? That felt right. Ryan was usually good with names.
Kris did not look happy. He seemed to be yelling at Shay. He pointed to her face. The bruised eye would not be helpful if Shay’s goal was to prove that she’d been fine while she was away. Then Shay got a word in, turned and began searching for Preeti again. Kris grabbed her arm. Shay jerked her arm back.
This did not look good. Ryan crept closer to hear what was being said.
“You just up and left her,” Kris shouted. “She had kind of a breakdown.”
“A breakdown?” Shay asked snidely. “She’s ten. You just don’t want me to see her.”
“I want you to see her, I just want to know what the hell happened to you and what the hell you think you’re doing falling off the face of the earth and then showing up like nothing’s happened, meanwhile you’re covered in bruises and look like hell.”
Shay glared at him. “What happened? What happened was that I had my own breakdown. I tried it your way—pretended to be happy, but I can’t pretend that much for that long. Preeti will understand.”
“She told me she doesn’t want to see you.” Kris sounded like some know-it-all jerkwad.
“I’m her sister,” Shay growled. “You have no right to hide her from me.”
“You asked me to take care of her,” he said calmly. “I’m taking care of her.”
Ryan couldn’t take this asshole for another second. He strode out from behind the trash can where he’d been hiding and grabbed Shay’s shoulders. “Where did you hide Preeti?”
Both Shay and Kris looked at him.
“You’re with him?” Kris asked. “You left your sister for some guy?”
“Ryan, I told you to wait.”
“He’s being an ass,” Ryan said.
“Buddy, you’re the ass,” Kris said. “I see you’re sporting some bruises too. What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into?”
Ryan felt the anger rising inside him. “Just take us to her sister.”
“Are you going to try to drag her off into some backroom hideout?” Kris asked, eyeing the two of them. “She’s safer here than with you.”
Shay smacked Kris. “I trusted you.”
Kris glared at her. “Preeti trusted you.”
People were staring. Ryan noticed a guy with a stun stick moving toward them.
“We have to go,” he said, pulling Shay’s arm.
Shay let him pull her away. Ryan ducked between the nearest food kiosks and then dragged Shay at a run to the door.
“The card,” he said. “Scan it.”
Shay kept looking over her shoulder, back at the food court. Her lip trembled. She looked ready to fall apart.
Ryan grabbed her shoulders. “We’re fine.” He saw the guard peek between the kiosks. “So long as you open the door now. We will find Preeti.”
Shay nodded, pulled the card from her pocket and unlocked the door. Ryan opened it and shoved her through. The guy with the gun was trotting toward them, yelling for them to stop. Ryan prayed the guy didn’t have a similar card and slammed the door shut behind him.
• • •
“We have to get away from here!” Ryan yelled.
Shay couldn’t piece a thought together. Preeti had a nervous breakdown? Was she that mad at her? Or was Kris just being a dick? He seemed angry with her for getting herself hurt more than for abandoning Preeti.
She let Ryan drag her through another door, down a hall, her feet slapping the cement obediently.
Ryan was right. They would find Preeti themselves. Tonight. They would sneak into the JCPenney and talk to her.
They turned another corner and Ryan stopped abruptly. Shay ran into his shoulder. Several older-looking kids hefting long metal sticks with hooked ends had them surrounded.
“You’re trespassing,” a guy who appeared to be their leader hissed. “And we don’t like trespassers.”
The two other members moved swiftly, throwing heavy bags over both Shay’s and Ryan’s heads, tugging the thick material down over their shoulders and arms, and then pushing them over some sort of short wall and into a bin, which then began to roll.