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It was like reading the cast list for a twisted new reality show—Mall Quarantine: Shop ’Til You Drop . . . Dead.

DANIEL JANCOWISZ, Age 24, Pace University

EILEEN MYERS, Age 36, pregnant, Dental Hygienist

YOUSSEF HADDAD, Age 16, asthma, Ossining HS

Except this wasn’t a show, it was reality. Some of these people really were dead.

That kind of thinking was too depressing, so Lexi Ross decided to not even focus on the names anymore. She just input the words. Her mother, Senator Dorothy “Dotty” Ross, the now official head honcho of the mall, had charged her with re-creating the population database her father had made for the government hazmat people. When they bolted from the building, they took all copies with them, which suggested that locking all the civilians in a mall with a killer flu was not the only secret they were keeping.

The monotony of the task—logging name after name into the program—was soothing, and a welcome break from the screaming chaos of yesterday’s mall riot. So she sat like a good little girl typing away in the dank employee lounge in a corner of the Apple Store’s stockroom.

KATHLEEN MASON, Age 18, Tarrytown HS

WILLIAM TSU, Age 14, Rockland HS

The only frustrating aspect of the task was that all the relevant information was handwritten on scrap paper. The Senator had given Lexi the lists of names created on the first night of their collective captivity—this was all the government had left behind. Scrawled next to some entries were chronic conditions, and employers or schools. Some names had a cryptic V marked beside them in the margin. More relevant information—like whether or not the person was still alive—was not to be found on the page.

As Lexi flipped a rumpled sheet over and began scanning her next entry, she was startled by her mother’s voice over the mall’s loudspeaker.

“Attention, residents of the Shops at Stonecliff. I apologize for the manner in which yesterday’s announcement was made. It was not our intention to cause anyone to panic.”

Understatement of the year. How coy of her mother to label a mall-wide riot a mere instance of “panic.” Lexi had spent the previous evening pinned down by a gurney and the dying, then dead body that had occupied it, all buried under collapsed curtains and whatever else from the medical center the rioters had stomped down on top of them.

“Anyone who suffered any injuries as a result of last night’s incident should report to the medical center located in the PaperClips on the first floor. Anyone with any medical training should also please report to the PaperClips to assist in helping those injured.”

Lexi wondered if there was anything the medical personnel could do to cure her of the memory of being trapped under a body—alone—for hours, all that time convinced she’d left her father to be trampled to death by the crazed masses. She could still feel the cold, dead, clammy skin against her back.

She glanced over the top of her laptop to check on her father, and saw that he had fallen asleep on the lounge’s crummy, fake leather couch. Turned out, he’d spent the night trapped under rubble, too. Only he had the additional disadvantage of having been shot by a looter with a nail gun and having his arm broken after being pushed down an escalator. Compared to that, trying to sleep without suffocating while being crushed by a corpse didn’t seem so bad.

Lexi decided to let her father rest. Closing her computer, she relocated from the stockroom to the sales area of the Apple Store. At least from there, should the masses decide to riot for a third time, she’d see them coming.

Her mother droned on over the loudspeaker: “. . . if you begin to develop symptoms, including chills, a cough, or a runny nose, please report to the PaperClips for treatment.

“Security guards will be handing out medical masks and hand sanitizer. Please wear your mask and apply the sanitizer before touching any surface and before meals. Avoid touching your face. These small measures will help prevent the spread of the disease.”

Too little too late. If only her mother had announced the flu as soon as she knew about it. If only the stupid government had hinted that they figured everyone inside the mall had a disease. Maybe people would have taken precautions. Maybe that saleslady Lexi had tried to save in the Abercrombie wouldn’t have died.

“We have been given additional cots by the government and will set these up in three locations within the mall. Families, please report to the HomeMart for registration and assignment of beds. Women and girls, please report to the JCPenney; men and boys, please report to the Lord and Taylor. These locations will be your Home Stores.”

Organization: This was the Senator’s specialty. Lexi’s mother had a label maker and by god, the woman knew how to use it. Only Lexi was not sure everyone in the mall would appreciate Dotty’s penchant for pushing people around. For example, how would all those kids accustomed to nonstop hooking up in the Abercrombie, no parental units in sight, deal with single-sex dorms?

“If you are in need of a change of clothes, depots will be established on the first floor of each Home Store where you can trade in your clothes for a new set. You will no longer be able to purchase clothing. You will also not have a choice in what clothing you are given. We apologize in advance for any inconvenience this may cause.”

Lexi nearly dropped her laptop from the burst of laughter that shook her. Just wear whatever they hand you? Like that won’t cause a riot?

“We have been given sufficient quantities of food by the government for the duration of this quarantine, however long it lasts. Meals will be served in the first-floor common areas. If you have a life-threatening food allergy, please notify the security guard when you register at your Home Store. Other than life-threatening conditions, we cannot accommodate any dietary requests.

“If you have any comments or concerns, please bring them to the attention of one of the security guards. We will try to address every situation to the best of our ability. This is an unusual and trying situation, but we are all in this together. By working together and following a few simple rules, we can all make it through this with the least incident and suffering. Thank you for your patience and attention. God bless you all.”

Lexi gave it a day, maybe less. No one would go for this. She flipped open her computer on one of the barren tables—the salespeople had cleared the decks of valuable merchandise to keep the looters at bay. Not like there was much use for laptops and iPhones anyway, what with no cell service or Internet to speak of. The screen blinked on and she got back to work.

BRITTANY FOX, Age 20, SUNY-New Paltz

ROBERT GAUDINO, Age 52, pacemaker

JOHN FITZGERALD, Age 45, Lawyer

ALANNA BROWN, Age 17, West Nyack HS

“Thought I’d find you here,” Maddie said, entering the Apple Store.

Lexi glanced up from her laptop screen. She could cry seeing her friend walking around like one of the living; the last time she’d seen Maddie, she was pale as a vampire and lying under a puffer coat on the concrete floor of the Abercrombie stockroom.

“You know me so well,” Lexi said, trying to sound as cool as possible.

“Well, you do have the Apple logo tattooed on your face.” Maddie gave Lexi a one-finger shove on the forehead, then slumped onto a neighboring stool. “Geraldine Simpson, age sixty-two, Prilosec? What is this, a list of people we’re not inviting to live with us?”

Lexi laughed despite her otherwise black mood. “I’m doing a job for my mother. It’s a new list of everyone in the mall. The government took all the records when they abandoned us.” She pointed to the stack of crinkled paper beside her.

“How do you know she’s not dead?” Maddie said, slicing a finger across her neck.

“I guess we’ll know once people check into their Home Stores,” Lexi said. “Or don’t, in which case I click the box marked ‘deceased.’”

Maddie contemplated this as she flipped through the pages. “Thanks,” she said finally, laying the papers aside. “Without you, I wouldn’t be checking in anywhere today.”

Lexi nodded, though did she really deserve to be thanked for what any decent human being would have done? Decent human being here obviously excluding Ginger Franklin, a coward who abandoned her friends to save her own bony butt. Lexi gritted her teeth and continued to type.

“What happened to you?” Maddie said, spinning on her seat. “I thought you’d come back after dropping your dad off in the med center.”

Lexi wasn’t sure what to say, so she went with the truth. “I got crushed under a gurney during the riot. I spent the night under a dead body.”

“Sucks to be you,” Maddie said.

“I spend the night under a dead body and that’s your response?”

“Well, it does.” Maddie shrugged and elbowed Lexi in the side. “At least it wasn’t your first dead body.”

“That makes it better how?”

“I don’t know,” Maddie said. “I’m trying to cheer you up.”

It was more than anyone else had tried to do. “Thanks,” she said, hoping that moved them on to something else topic-wise. She typed another entry into the system.

Maddie spun slowly on her stool. “We’re all going to die, right?” she said after a few minutes.

“You just survived the flu,” Lexi said. “If anyone’s going to live, it’s you.”

“But that’s why the government left,” Maddie continued. “They’re going to blow this place up with everyone in it or something. To keep the virus from getting out.”

This horrible, hopeless option had not occurred to Lexi. She wondered if it had occurred to her mother. It had to have. “There’s no way they’d do that,” she said, more to herself than anyone else.

“Why not?” Maddie said. “There’s like a couple thousand people in here.” She waved a hand at the stack of rumpled papers. “What’s that compared with the millions outside these doors?”

“My mother would never let that happen,” Lexi said. “She’s not the kind to go down with the ship.”

“Why would they tell her about their plans?” Maddie said. “Us disease carriers are obviously far down on the need-to-know list, given how long it took them to share the news about the flu.”

Lexi’s heart rate was climbing. If her mother hadn’t known about all the dead bodies in the Pancake Palace’s freezer, what else didn’t she know? What if Mom was as in the dark as the rest of them? What if she was just as screwed as everyone else? Lexi felt a wave of sympathy for her, and the sensation was strange to say the least.

“My mom is not out of the loop,” Lexi said, as if saying the words made them true. “She knew about the flu days before they announced it. She told me.”

“She told you?” Maddie said, eyes bugging. “And you thought that wasn’t something of interest to the rest of us?”

Crap. “I couldn’t tell,” Lexi said. “My mom made me promise.”

“Dude!” Maddie yelled. “There are some promises you just don’t freaking keep!”

“Look, I’m sorry!” Lexi yelled back. Yelling felt better. “I didn’t think you’d get it!”

“Well, I did!”

“It’s not like if I’d told you, you wouldn’t have gotten sick! We’ve all breathed the stuff in.” Plus, Lexi thought, you were kissing every guy with a pulse.

Maddie grabbed her stool. “Everything’s woozy,” she said. Her face drained of blood.

Lexi took her arm and helped her to the floor. She propped Maddie against a shelf and brought her some water from the lounge in the back.

“You shouldn’t be walking around if you’re still feeling sick,” Lexi said.

“I had been feeling better,” Maddie mumbled.

“I wish you hadn’t gotten sick. I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Maddie said, lifting her head. “This whole thing just sucks.”

“Let’s make a pact,” Lexi said. “No more secrets. I tell you everything, you tell me everything.”

Maddie smirked. “Not really a fair deal, since you’re the only one with secrets.”

“You’re the most popular person I know,” Lexi said. “Who knows what you’ll learn from the cool kids in the mall? You give me intel from the masses, I give you intel from my mom. Deal?” She held her hand out.

“Gossip for actual information?” Maddie took her hand. “You’re getting a pretty raw deal.”

Holding hands with Maddie, Lexi felt relief flood her body. She had a friend, someone to share secrets with. She wasn’t alone. “I’m okay with that.”

Maddie let go first. She gulped the water. “I guess we should check into our Home Store,” she groaned.

Lexi stood and examined the stack of names she had yet to enter. It was at least another hour or two of work. Screw it. Her dad would put it in when he woke up. Or someone else could do it. It’s not like data entry was brain surgery. Her mom could do it herself, for that matter.

“Let’s go,” Lexi said, closing her laptop.

• • •

“Can we please stop running for like one freaking minute so I can get the fire extinguisher foam off my face?” Ryan Murphy grabbed the nearest shirt and pulled.

Drew halted. “Shrimp,” he said. “Your face is messed up.”

Not like anyone looked good in the fluorescent gloom of the service hallway, but certainly Ryan had a decent excuse for whatever mess his face was. Just that morning he’d pulled a Lazarus and defeated the flu, then he’d free-fallen some thirty feet to rescue the ass who ruined their entire rooftop escape plan, only to be captured by security and then rescued in a cloud of fire-extinguisher foam. He swiped the wicking fabric of his climbing shirt over his skin and felt something smear around.

“That didn’t help,” Drew said.

“Can we stop at a bathroom or something?” Ryan rubbed his hands on his face and came away with crusty white crap.

“No one here cares what you look like,” Marco said.

Ryan remembered Marco from their failed escape attempt through the parking level hatch. Something had changed in the guy over the last four days. He had a nasty edge to his voice. Ryan hated people with attitude. “I’m not worried about turning you on. This crap is burning my skin.”

Mike pulled his T-shirt off, spat onto it, then came at Ryan. “Lemme get that,” he said in a faux mommy voice.

Ryan smacked him away. “I’d rather let my face burn.”

Mike snorted. “Your choice, Jumbo Shrimp.” He threw the shirt at Ryan’s head.

“Dude, this reeks,” Ryan said, trying not to barf. All motion made him sick in the gut—like he needed shirt stink on top of that.

“Real men sweat,” Mike said.

“While I appreciate the clever banter,” Marco inter-rupted, “it’s not helping us avoid the troop of security guards on our asses.”

Mike stroked the gun in his waistband. “I could come up with a more permanent solution than running.”

“We are not killing people,” Ryan stated, like he had any control over Mike’s use of his new toy, lifted from the police officer Ryan had tackled. He’d been as effective as a ninety-pound linebacker in stopping Mike from killing the dude in Shep’s Sporting Goods. Of course, that guy had shot an arrow at them first.

“Unless you have some endless supply of ammo for that thing,” Marco said, “that is not the answer to our problems.”

“So what is the answer?” Drew snorted. “And it better involve food, because I’m starving.”

Why were Mike and Drew listening to this guy? A week ago, they’d been trying to, no-joke, kill him. The change was freaky.

Marco closed his eyes like this was all such a waste of time. “Let’s head to the third floor.”

“Lead the way, Kemosabe,” Mike said, sweeping his arm.

The guy had gotten a nickname? He wasn’t even on the football team and he was getting a nickname? Ryan had only been out of the loop for like twenty minutes, but he was apparently years behind on information.

• • •

Despite what he’d just said, Marco Carvajal wasn’t actually that concerned about security. They had woven through two stockrooms, shifting between service hallway systems, and moved up a floor already. Between that and the senator’s new orders for reorganizing the mall, he doubted many guards were still in pursuit. Nevertheless, he liked to dangle that danger over The Three Douches’ heads. Liked to remind them that without his help, they’d all be up a fraking creek.

He would have to have a word with them about “Kemosabe.” Kemosabe was worse than “Taco.”

They crept down the hallways toward the Grill’n’Shake, Marco’s old place of employ. Things he did not miss: wiping tables and scraping food scraps as busboy to the ungrateful mall-walkers. Things he did miss: free fries and unlimited soda.

At the back door, he swiped his actual card key for old times’ sake; he didn’t want to wear out the mag strip on his shiny, new, stolen all-access pass. For a brief moment, he thought of Shay—how they’d taken the card key together, how their escape plan had fallen apart, but how their relationship had grown stronger—and he wanted to abandon these douches and check to make sure she was still okay in the med center. But he reminded himself that the whole reason he was with Mike, Drew, and Ryan was to ensure the safety of Shay and her sister, Preeti. Not to mention his own.

“Bathroom’s in the back, food’s this way,” Marco said, holding open the service door.

“I think I know my way around the Grease’n’Suck,” Ryan said, tromping toward the bathroom. Just as he was about to open the swinging door to the dining room, he froze. “There are people out there,” he whispered.

Marco crept to the door and peered through the window. Regular people sat at the tables, some swilling stolen sodas, some with fistfuls of ice pressed to various appendages.

“There’s a staff bathroom in the back.” Marco said. He led the three into the kitchen.

People had raided what remained of the salad station.

“Where’s the grub?” Drew asked, poking at the empty tubs.

“Relax,” Marco said, approaching the monolithic metal door of the walk-in refrigerator. Everything worth eating was kept in the fridge, which, lucky for them, was still locked.

Marco pulled out the keys he’d inadvertently stolen from the manager on his last shift—two days ago. It wasn’t like the man would miss them, given that he was dead. He wondered where his coworkers were now, Josh especially. Josh was a good guy. Marco hoped Josh was still alive.

It took several tries, but Marco finally identified the key to the fridge. The door swung open slowly, exhaling a cold mist.

“Hit the lights,” Drew said, chops already wet with saliva.

Marco flicked the switch. The fluorescent lights blinked, revealing a wealth of comestibles. Another door inside separated the freezer section, which contained more food, most of it unfortunately frozen solid.

The two douches thrust themselves inside and began pawing the merchandise.

“Dude, crackers,” Mike said, throwing a gigantic bag of saltines at Drew, who grunted happily. The manager must have thrown all the food—from saltines to salt—in the fridge for safekeeping. The two douches didn’t even bother to pull the things from the wrappers; they slit the bags open and poured the broken contents down their gullets.

Marco had certainly surrounded himself with some charming company. But beggars could not be choosers, and these two were the best this mall had to offer in terms of personal security services. He had traded his freedom and chosen to act as mall tour guide in exchange for Mike and Drew’s formidable protection—an excellent deal, even if it meant having to watch Drew spit crumbs like a camel.

He needed to figure out how this whole security thing would work with Shay. Should they all hide out somewhere? Would Shay agree to living like this—stealing food from the Grill’n’Shake’s fridge, sleeping in stockrooms? What if she was sick or really hurt? No, she needed something better than this. So he would have to run a dual operation—one to keep Shay safe, one to keep these idiots safe so they could keep him and Shay safe.

The fridge door swung away from his shoulder, startling Marco.

“Relax,” Ryan said snidely, slipping past Marco into the fridge. He no longer had a fine layer of white all over him, though his face was splotchy—not splotchy like Marco’s face always was, but the handsome splotchy that guys like Ryan were blessed with. Even on a bad day, the douche was a billion times better looking than Marco.

“What’s for breakfast?” Ryan said.

Mike chucked a bag of frozen chicken fingers at his head. “Gnaw on these.”

Ryan caught it like he had bags of chicken launched at his head on a daily basis—which Marco guessed was essentially the definition of being a football player.

He definitely could not bring Shay here. Not with a handsome, coordinated jerk like Ryan around to mess up everything Marco had going with her.

The voices from the restaurant got louder; Marco thought he heard the kitchen door squeal. Not wanting to get involved in a firefight over frozen chicken, he checked that the inside release button for the handle was still working and closed them into the fridge. As he dug open a giant bag of baby carrots, Marco said a silent prayer that no one would test the lock.

• • •

Shaila Dixit was shaken awake by her bed, which was rattling its way out of the PaperClips. Her first instinct was to start patting the sides of the gurney looking for the brakes, but she quickly realized that, since there was no hill in the PaperClips, the gurney could not be rolling of its own volition.

“Just lie back and enjoy the ride,” a voice behind her said.

“Where are you taking me?” The panic began to choke Shay. “Where’s my sister?”

The gurney stopped and a round face with a mask over its smiling mouth appeared at her side. “Dr. Chen said you had quite a scare,” the face said. “I’m Jazmine, and I’m a nurse. I’m taking you to the new medical center.”

“My sister?”

“Right behind you. You can relax, sweetheart.”

Shay’s head throbbed, so she sank back onto her pillow. If she hadn’t felt like she’d hurl if she stood, she would have run. She did not trust this woman. She did not trust any of them. They had let her grandmother die. They said her sister, Preeti, was okay, but who knew if that was true. This place was horrible. Where was Marco?

Jazmine rolled her out into the hallway and then turned onto the main artery of the mall. Shay noticed half of the windows in the central skylight were covered over.

“What happened to the skylight?” Shay asked. Had the riot reached the ceiling?

“Some crazy people tried to bust out onto the roof,” Jazmine said, her tone implying the inanity of the action.

Shay did not think this was stupid. In fact, she wished she’d thought of it. Ryan had taught her how to climb, after all. She wondered if it was he who’d made the attempt. That would mean he hadn’t escaped through the garage. But had he made it out onto the roof?

“Did they escape?” Shay wanted the answer to be both yes and no.

“You think those government nut jobs in their plastic suits would let anyone out of here?”

That meant Ryan might still be in the mall. Shay closed her eyes and hoped it to be true. Didn’t the universe owe her something good?

The gurney soon rolled to a stop under a fancy chandelier and a banner advertising a perfume. The room smelled sickly sweet. “The new med center is a department store?”

Jazmine fiddled with something on the underside of the gurney, then stood and brushed her palms on her jeans. “Harry’s has been converted into this glamorous new hospital. Too many people showed up with riot injuries to try to keep making due in the PaperClips.”

Shay lifted herself to her elbows and looked around. The makeup counters and racks of clothes still stood in their regular places.

“It’s a work in progress,” Jazmine said, following her gaze. “We moved you first, as you’re non-critical.”

“And my sister?” Shay asked.

“Flu cases will be moved last. We’re trying to keep them separate.”

“Can I see her?”

Jazmine, sensing perhaps from Shay’s strident tone that the panic had returned, lifted her face mask and sat on the gurney beside Shay’s hips. “I know you’ve been through a lot, honey,” she said. “But you have got to trust somebody and it might as well be me.”

“Why?” Shay asked, feeling peevish.

“You see anyone else around here?” Jazmine raised an eyebrow.

Shay allowed herself a smile.

“Your grandma was a special lady?” Jazmine cocked her head.

The question drove the smile away. “Don’t you have to move the other people?”

“They won’t miss me for another minute or so.”

She stared at Shay like she was waiting for an answer, like Shay was really going to talk about Nani to some complete stranger who probably was part of the team that let her die. No, that wasn’t fair. That team, the ones in the hazmat suits, had fled, leaving only the contaminated, the damned.

Shay rubbed the edge of her sheet. “She was my best friend.”

“That’s a good grandma.” Jazmine smiled as if waiting for more.

“She let me steal her henna.”

“So that’s what the mark on your cheek is.” Jazmine stroked Shay’s skin gently.

Shay flinched, surprised by the touch. The last time someone touched her, it was a zombie hand reaching out from the rubble of the old med center.

Jazmine, unfazed, smiled and held open her arms. “Can I at least give you a hug before I go?”

Tears pricked out along Shay’s eyelids at the word. When was the last time someone offered her a simple hug, nothing else implied or wanted? Just a hug, just for her? So long.

Shay nodded her head and felt Jazmine’s thick arms wrap around her, enveloping her in warmth. The tears dropped down her cheeks, darkening the fabric of Jazmine’s shirt.

“No touching,” a voice commanded. “And put on your mask.”

“Say what?” Jazmine barked. “If I want to hug a person, I’m hugging her.”

“New rules.” The voice came closer. Shay turned her head and saw a security guard, stun baton gripped in both hands across his chest like a shield.

Jazmine gave Shay a look like she would kill this man before she’d stop hugging people, but then she let go of Shay, replaced her mask, and shuffled off the gurney. “I’ll check on you later,” she said, squeezing Shay’s shoulder, then walked away.

Shay nearly screamed for Jazmine to come back, but the security guard with his black stick shut her up. He looked both nervous and cocky, and Shay did not like that combination. Would he attack her? No, he was here to protect her. Right? Cold sweat broke out over her body. She was alone with this guy who looked ready to beat the crap out of anyone and everyone.

He turned and walked out of the store. Another gurney was rolled in by some woman, not Jazmine.

Shay did not trust these strangers. She did not feel safe. But she couldn’t move off this gurney, not yet, so she fell back and stared at the chandelier until her eyes watered and the world became a bright blur.