“If she’s not sick, then why is she hooked up to that machine?” Ryan asked, playing the safest card he could.
“I told you, she got crushed in the riot. I saved her.”
Footsteps stopped outside the curtain wall; Ryan dropped to the floor and crawled under Shay’s bed, sure they were looking for him. Yet when the guard stepped into the room, he said, “Marco Carvajal?”
Marco shifted his feet—that was all Ryan could see.
“Who’s asking?” Marco said.
Why would security be looking for him?
“The senator.” The guard stepped forward, but Marco went toward him without waiting to be dragged away.
Ryan was thankful that Marco did not alert the guard to his presence, and merely walked with the man out of the room.
He crawled back up to standing. Shay groaned softly. Was she having a bad dream? What horrible things had happened to her while he’d been running around like an idiot? He should have stayed with her. She needed him—not anymore, he guessed. Not now that she had Marco.
But Shay liked him. He was sure of it. Marco had to be a stand-in at best. Ryan would win her back. A part of him wanted to shake her awake right then and demand that she dump Marco and run away with him. They would hide out in some corner together. But he didn’t let himself do it. Instead, Ryan leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead like a promise.
“I gave her a sedative, so no matter how long you kiss her, Sleeping Beauty is not waking up.”
A large nurse stood in the “door” in the curtain wall.
“Sorry,” Ryan mumbled, jerking himself to standing. “I’m a friend.”
The woman folded her arms across her chest. “I would hope so.”
“I’ll go.” Ryan was ready to bust through the curtain to get out of there if that’s what it took.
The woman thankfully stepped aside. “Don’t let me catch you in here again.”
Ryan shuffled out, glancing behind him to see the woman disappear into Shay’s room. He debated eavesdropping to make sure Shay was okay, but not wanting to tempt the nurse to violence, decided to exit while he still had the option. He grabbed a bottle of pills from a tray—what kind of pills, he had no idea, but he figured he’d better return to the Grease’n’Suck with something or risk having to explain his failed expedition to Mike. Ryan had a feeling Mike wouldn’t have a lot of sympathy for his nearly getting nabbed while checking up on his would-be girlfriend. Especially when Ryan’s whole goal was to steal her from the only person in this mall Mike seemed to trust.
• • •
The security officer led Marco up to the third floor, then toward the skating rink, which was closed, according to a piece of paper taped to the door. Weird . . .
This end of the third level was opposite the more exciting part, which offered movie theaters, a bowling alley, restaurants including the Grill ’n’ Shake, a bookstore, the arcade, etc. The officer stopped in front of a nondescript metal door with a pane of glass in the wall next to it, behind which sat a bored-looking guard. Marco’s guard nodded to him, the door buzzed, and the guy opened the door for Marco.
“After you,” he said.
Marco walked through, eyes wide and ears open. This was like the most wonderful, unexpected recon opportunity ever. Every question he had about what the hell was going on in the mall, the answers were somewhere in this cluster of offices. He tried to absorb the information through osmosis.
One room held cots, another had piles of what looked like weapons and shields, in the next an older guy was futzing with computer wires between four cubicles, the one after that, three cots. Opposite the computer room was a dark closet with flashing screens showing the feeds from the mall’s closed-circuit camera system. Then, at the end of the hall, the senator. She had a stack of paper on her desk. A heavyset man in a uniform sat on the other side of it.
“We’ve done all we can to convince people,” she said, setting aside a sheet. “It may take a few days, but they’ll see that this plan is going to work and get in line.”
“You’re the boss,” the man said, sounding like he was not sold on the idea.
“I am not establishing a police state,” the senator responded. “At least not as a first option.”
The man got up and left.
The senator waved at Marco. “Come in,” she said, pointing to the chair the heavyset man had abandoned. Marco sat. The senator folded her hands on her desk. “You know what’s stuck in my mind?”
Marco did not like the smug look she was giving him. He’d stared down enough authority figures at this point to know the palette of looks they displayed and what each one meant. You can only be in so many scuffles before you’re just hauled in every time there’s even a rumor of a fight. Not like Marco really had a choice in whether he got the crap beaten out of him.
Unsure of where the senator was hoping to lead him, he gave her a noncommittal shrug.
“How exactly did you get into the back of the PaperClips during the riots?”
This was not the question Marco was expecting. “I saw an open door and went through it.” He tried to be as vague as possible.
The senator’s eyebrows flicked up. “Interesting. Because it occurred to me that maybe you can answer not only this question, but the question of my missing security card key.”
Marco swallowed. This was not the usual interrogation session with a guidance counselor; this was like staring down a shark. He sensed that one false move and she would tear his head from his body.
His brain spun into high gear. He couldn’t afford to give up the card. It was the only bargaining chip he had in this place. Without it, he would lose Mike, lose any freedom he’d gained, forget being able to protect Shay. But they could search him and find the thing without his saying a word and where did that get him?
Better to play some hand than none at all. He slid his fingers into his pocket and felt around for his old card key. He pulled it out, leaving the universal card safely tucked away, and placed it on her desk.
“I only wanted to help Shay,” he said, trying on his most pathetic voice.
“And those Spider-Men who tried to get out to the roof.”
Motherfrakingcrap.
She pushed the card back toward him. “Don’t hyperventilate just yet,” she said. “I have a job for you.”
Marco did not take the card back. What the hell did she mean by job?
The senator leaned back in her desk chair and stretched her hands behind her head. “I have a bit of a problem, Marco. There are around four thousand people in this mall and I only have a small private security force to control them. As we saw yesterday, when the people want to take over, they can.
“I am trying to pull this place together out of that chaos. But I can only do so much. People who don’t want to jump on my bandwagon? Well, I don’t have much of a way to get them on by force. So here’s where you come in.
“I have a hunch, and you don’t have to answer, but my hunch is that you know where my Spider-Men are. I don’t want to waste my precious police resources hunting and trapping them, so I am offering you the job.”
“You want me to hunt and trap the guys who tried to escape through the skylight?” He tried to play it as dumb as possible.
“No,” she said, smiling. “I want you to keep tabs on them and keep me informed of any future problems they plan on causing.”
“And I get to keep the card key?”
“You can keep the card key.”
This deal was like a freaking dream come true. Not only was he not in trouble, he was being ordered to do exactly what he was planning on doing anyway. His arrangement with the douches was now blessed by the cops, and Mike and the others would never be the wiser.
“Okay,” he said, taking back the card key.
The senator held out a hand. “Glad to have you on board.”
Marco took it. “No problem.”
“There better not be.” She gripped his palm and stared hard into his eyes. “I am trusting you to be on my side in this. Do not cause me to regret that trust.” She released Marco’s hand.
“I won’t,” he said.
“Come back here tomorrow after dinner to check in,” she said, then turned to a computer screen.
Marco assumed he was dismissed. The guard who had led him in was waiting outside the door. He shuffled Marco along the hall and let him out the front, depositing Marco back in the mall.
The hallway seemed brighter now. Maybe it was the late-afternoon sun coming through the windows of the food court, maybe it was the relative emptiness of this part of the mall. Marco took a deep breath, like he was sucking in the light, then trotted down the hall toward the escalators, his sneakers bouncing off the tiles like he was made of light himself.
F
I
V
E
P.M.
Having worked in her sexy outfit for half a day, Lexi longed for the comfort of her old tee and hoodie. Her old baggy jeans. Every time she bent over, she felt like some part of her pants was going to split. The pink sweater itched—maybe she was developing a rash. And it seemed to suck in the heat, so she was sweating buckets. Lexi had never felt less sexy.
“Cot number seven million and two, done.” Maddie flopped onto the flat bed, then winced. “I think I’d rather sleep on the floor.”
Lexi found it bizarre how everyone was eager to help; even the whiny girls like Maddie who bitched and moaned still did their assigned job. It was like everyone felt bad about the whole riot thing, and couldn’t we put that behind us and all pretend nothing happened?
After clearing all the clothing from the sales floors into the stockrooms, people asked what they could do next. The guards found new jobs for everyone, assumedly handed down from the Senator, who’d yet to appear in the flesh. Some were given the sucktastic job of cleaning the bathrooms, others the much less smelly job of collating travel-sized toiletries into Ziploc bags, and a few trusted old ladies were given the job of pulling suitable clothes for sleeping from the piles in the stockrooms. Lexi and Maddie were assigned to the largest team, charged with setting up the cots.
Lexi sat beside Maddie. “At least we’re not cleaning the johns,” Lexi said, swabbing her forehead with her sleeve. “I heard that half of them are clogged, with like—”
Maddie put a finger to Lexi’s lips. “Stop. TMI.”
Lexi shrugged. “You said you wanted all the gossip.”
“Not the gross stuff,” Maddie said. “Keep the gross stuff to yourself.” She looked at Lexi like Lexi was the only gross thing in the place.
“Okay,” Lexi mumbled. “No gross info. Check.”
Maddie looked around the room at the other women and girls setting up the cots. There were people of every age, but most looked like they were in high school or college. Lexi held still, waited for Maddie to break the silence.
Instead, her mother’s voice boomed through the space: “For those registered at the Home Stores, dinner will be served in the first-floor courtyard outside the Borderland’s Cantina. If you have not been registered, you will not be served. Please take this opportunity to register at a Home Store. Dinner service will end at seven p.m. sharp.”
Maddie hopped off the cot. “I’m so hungry, I don’t even care what they’re serving.”
Lexi hauled her butt up to follow Maddie, but stopped when she saw her dad, Arthur Ross, hobbling toward her.
“Hey girls,” he said, cheery as ever. “Lex, I finished the database, but now I need help inputting the information collected at the Home Stores. Can I borrow you?”
Lexi’s stomach growled. “Can I start after dinner?”
Her father checked to see if anyone was looking (no—everyone was shoving their way downstairs to grab some grub), then pulled a box of frozen burritos from his satchel. “A special treat for working through a meal.”
Maddie perked right up. “Can I help?” she asked, eyelashes batting. She grabbed Lexi’s arm and gave her a pleading look. “Don’t leave me alone to eat the camping food.”
Maddie could seemingly turn her friendship off and on whenever she liked. A minute ago she’d looked at Lexi like she was no better than the crap being sucked out of the toilets; now she clung to her like they were best buds. But Lexi told herself that she was just being sensitive. Maddie was her friend. They’d been having a great time right up until like five minutes ago.
“Of course I won’t leave you,” Lexi said.
Maddie snatched the box of burritos. “Knew I had you whipped,” she said, kissing Lexi’s cheek. “Now, where’s a micro when you need one?”
After nuking the food, Lexi and Maddie wolfed their burritos as they followed Arthur to the first floor. Dad had a laptop set up on the folding table serving as the entrance to the JCPenney. Beside it sat one of the guards responsible for checking people in.
There was a healthy line snaking away from the counter. It had taken several hours, but people were finally convinced that it was safe to come out into the open. Or maybe they were just that hungry. It didn’t matter. Each gave the guard her name, and in return was handed a special white mask that fit like a dome over the nose and mouth, and small bottle of hand sanitizer.
“Of course they show up after we’ve cleared the whole place and set up their beds,” Maddie snarked, scarfing the last of her burrito.
At least they’ve decided to join the forces of good, Lexi thought. If her mother’s orders had failed to rally people, what then? She refused to think of it. Maddie was wrong. The Senator was in control—look how people followed her commands! There would be no more riots. She would not end up buried under the rubble again. She had Maddie to watch her back. Right?
Maddie picked up the first sheet in the pile beside the laptop and Lexi positioned herself in front of the screen. Maddie read the names and Lexi clicked the box in the database to indicate the person had checked into a Home Store, and then the box indicating which of the three stores they were in.
After a half hour of droning on, Maddie interrupted her recitation. “She’s here.”
“Is that a name?” Lexi said, scrolling through the list.
“Ginger,” Maddie snarled. “She’s here.”
Lexi’s jaw tightened at the name. Ginger had abandoned her, leaving Lexi to try to save the kids in the Abercrombie alone. Ginger had made her use the CB radio to call Ginger’s dad, who caused a riot outside the mall and got Lexi in trouble with her parents, and Darren, her parents—everyone—in trouble with the Feds. Ginger had ruined everything. And now she was back.
Lexi cracked her knuckles. “We shouldn’t be surprised. Where else would she go?”
“Stay in whatever hole she’d crawled into when she left me to die in the Abercrombie? All it took was one mall apocalypse to wreck a lifelong friendship.” Maddie snuggled against Lexi’s shoulder. “At least some people are real friends.”
Lexi felt a warmth spread over her cheeks. Real friends. She didn’t want to show Maddie how much those words meant. She straightened her back, jostling Maddie, who sat straight.
“Back to the grind,” she said, sighing, and read the next name.
Someone coughed in the line. The sound echoed like a bomb blast around the emptiness of the hallway. The guard at the table next to them looked up.
“Who coughed?” he shouted. It was the guy who’d seemed so lost this morning. Now he looked like a wolf with a scent.
No one responded. Then a youngish woman waved an arm. “She did!” she yelled, pointing to a mom-aged woman in a flowery dress.
The older woman froze, glanced around her. “I feel fine,” she squeaked. “I just ne
ed a sip of water.”
The rest of the people in line backed away from her. Two guards, faces in masks and hands covered in plastic gloves, closed in from the hall.
“Really, I’m fine,” she said, then, as if her body wanted to betray her, she coughed again.
The guards grabbed her arms and led her out of line. The guard next to Lexi pulled antibacterial wipes from a container. He waved them in the air. “Miss,” he yelled.
The girl who’d sold out the woman pointed to herself.
“Yeah, you,” the guard said. “Take these and wipe down your hands and face, and give one to everyone around you, then wipe the barrier where the woman was standing.”
The girl’s eyes were wide, her mouth a thin, trembling frown. She obeyed, skipping forward on her tiptoes, and then scuttled back to where she’d been. The others in line took their wipes and began cleansing the space.
The guard turned to Lexi, sliding two masks across the counter. “Put these on.”
Lexi slipped the thing over her face and passed the other to Maddie, who followed suit without making a peep.
• • •
Shay was shaken awake by Jazmine. “Dinnertime,” the nurse said, holding out a plate. A pile of what looked like reconstituted barf slid across the surface.
“I’m going to be sick.”
Jazmine smiled and dropped the plate onto the metal table between Shay and her sister. “You had a visitor this afternoon. Some boy.”
Shay’s heart rate increased. “Oh?” But then she reminded herself that it was Marco, had to have been; Ryan, even if he was still in the mall, had no idea that she was in the med center. Only Marco knew that. Her heart rate sank back to normal. “He’s just a friend.”
“Seemed pretty friendly,” Jazmine continued, the smug smile on her face visible beyond the borders of her mask. “He kissed you.”
No Easy Way Out Page 4
