Black Friday

by William W. Johnstone

  To that end, he made it out to the range at least a couple of times a month and did plenty of dry fire exercise between sessions. He had a good eye and didn’t want to lose it.

  This morning, Ashley saw him slipping the Shield into his pocket and said, “Are you expecting to have to shoot your way through a horde of crazed shoppers?”

  “Hey, you never know when a zombie apocalypse might break out. There’s a good reason why they shoot so many of those movies in shopping malls. People are more likely to be insane to start with when they’re trapped in them.”

  “It was your idea to go today, you know,” she pointed out dryly.

  “I know, and I still want to. Come on.”

  One of the first things he’d done when he got back was to buy a pickup with the money he’d saved. He had worked construction before he enlisted and figured he’d go back to that, and having a vehicle he could use for hauling things might come in handy. He’d been right about that, too. He worked steadily and was pretty much a master carpenter.

  Tobey liked the feeling of having the pickup’s substantial chassis around him, too. Not that he expected to encounter any ambushes in suburban Springfield.

  He opened the pickup’s door for Ashley. She was a tall girl, so she didn’t have any trouble climbing in, although Tobey was right there to give her a hand if she had.

  “I’m still curious what it is you want to buy,” she said as they started toward the sprawling mall on the edge of town.

  “Nothing in particular,” he lied. “I just thought it might be fun to look around.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not believing him. “You’re hoping I’ll see something and talk about how much I like it, so you’ll know what to buy me for Christmas.”

  “If that’s what I was doing, I probably wouldn’t admit it, now would I?”

  “Probably not. But it doesn’t really matter. Being sneaky is not your strong suit, Tobey Lanning.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he replied. He almost said, I’ll remember that when we’re married, but he caught himself in time.

  They had discussed marriage, but not all that seriously yet, at least as far as Ashley knew. If Tobey hadn’t been serious, he never would have brought the subject up in the first place.

  “You’re not thinking about buying me a gun, are you?” she asked a few moments later. She wasn’t an anti-gunner. In fact, she had gone with him to the range a few times and shot some with his weapons, proving to be decently accurate at five to ten yards. She had seemed to enjoy herself, too. But she’d never expressed any interest in having a gun of her own.

  “I wasn’t planning to, no,” Tobey answered, honestly this time.

  “Good. I don’t mind being around you when you’re carrying, but I don’t see any reason for me to have one. I couldn’t ever shoot another person.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  “I am. No matter what the circumstances, I couldn’t pull the trigger on another human being.”

  Tobey didn’t see any point in arguing with her, so he didn’t say anything else about the subject.

  He didn’t believe she was right, though. If she ever found herself in a situation where the instinct for self-preservation ought to kick in, she would fight to defend herself or some other innocent person. He hoped that was true, anyway.

  A few minutes later, they came in sight of the mall and the parking lots that surrounded it. Tobey’s eyes widened a little as he said, “Wow.”

  “I warned you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He laughed. “There’s no turning back now, though. Remember that poem by Tennyson we had to study back in high school?”

  “It’s the mall, Tobey. It’s not the valley of death we’re charging into, like the Light Brigade.”

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  Chapter 13

  A few minutes before eight o’clock, a woman in short heels, a skirt, and a blouse had come around the corner into the food court and walked toward Calvin, her heels clicking on the tiles. Normally he’d never be able to hear such a sound because of the hubbub in the mall, he thought, but without customers in here the place was a lot quieter. The clicking even echoed a little.

  While waiting for the mall to open, Calvin had drifted through the food court to the entrance doors. There were eight of them, four sets of two, all glass with metal dividers between them. One set was handicap-equipped with a motor to open the doors, the large round switch to activate them being mounted on the wall close by.

  Because the doors were glass, Calvin could see the crowd of shoppers walking in from the parking lot and gathering on the other side as they waited for the mall to open. Right now they were just kind of milling around, not lining up or anything. When the doors were unlocked, they would have to form rough lines, though, in order to come in.

  Unless they all tried to stampede through at once, in which case there would be trouble and somebody might be hurt. It would be part of Calvin’s job to prevent that, and he suddenly felt a little surge of worry. He didn’t much like the idea of being responsible for people’s safety.

  But if that was going to bother him, he shouldn’t have gone to work as a security guard, he supposed, no matter how much he needed the money.

  In the meantime, though, watching the crowd was fascinating in a way. Calvin saw people of all shapes, sizes, sexes, and colors. Everybody came to the mall, especially on Black Friday. Couples trying to keep unruly children from running all over the place. Groups of moms pushing strollers. Rich people. People who, judging by their clothes, didn’t have much money. Young people. Old people. Teenage girls. Calvin noticed plenty of them, but not many boys. Most guys his age were still asleep, he figured, unless they had to work like he did. It would take more than shopping to get them out of bed this early, unless there was some brand-new, eagerly awaited video game involved.

  Now eight o’clock loomed, and the doors would soon be open. The woman approaching Calvin smiled at him. She was in her thirties, which seemed fairly old to him, but nice looking, with brown hair that fell to her shoulders. He figured she worked for the management company that ran the mall. She had a key in one hand.

  “Hello,” she said. “You’re one of the temporary guards, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Calvin Marshall.”

  “I’m Emily Thorn. Nice to meet you, Calvin. I work for Rand Properties.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I figured as much. Are you here to unlock the doors?” He glanced at the crowd. The shoppers must have sensed that something was going on. They had surged closer to the doors, like a rising tide. “I think those folks would appreciate it if you did. They’re ready.”

  “We can hope so,” Emily Thorn said. She lifted her head a little and cocked it to the side in a listening attitude as Christmas music suddenly filled the air. Calvin looked up and realized the music was coming from speakers on the ceiling.

  “Somebody in the office just pushed a button, didn’t they?” he asked.

  “That’s right. But it’s not exactly a Winter Wonderland out there, is it?”

  Calvin looked at the hundreds of eager customers standing in the sunshine and said, “I guess that all depends on your state of mind.” He held out his hand and went on, “Why don’t you let me unlock the doors? I think everybody’s going to be orderly, but you might get trampled by accident.”

  “No, this is my job,” Emily said. She went to the far right-hand set of doors first, quickly and smoothly unlocking them, then moved efficiently along the line, unlocking the other pairs.

  By the time Emily reached the motorized doors at the left end, Calvin estimated that at least a hundred people had come into the mall. A little pushing and shoving had taken place, but not much, and all he had to do was stand next to the wall and smile and nod at the shoppers as they streamed past him.

  “Morning, folks,” he said to some of them. “Good morning.” During his training, he’d been instructed to greet the customers if he wanted to
, but not to be overly friendly. It was important to retain an authoritative presence, too.

  Emily came over to him and said, “See, that went fairly smoothly, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it sure did. I’m guessing this wasn’t your first time to do this.”

  “No, I’ve been working here at the mall for six years, so this is my sixth Black Friday.” She cocked her head slightly to one side. “I’m sorry. Does calling it that offend you? Because I can call it something else—”

  His chuckle stopped her. He said, “No, ma’am. It doesn’t bother me a bit. My dad raised me not to get upset at things that nobody means any offense by. He says there are enough macroaggressions in the world that folks ought to worry about them and not imaginary microaggressions.”

  “Well, I can’t really comment on that—corporate HR policies, you know—but I don’t see any harm in saying that your father sounds like a smart man.”

  “Yes, ma’am, he is.”

  She smiled again, mindful of human resources policies, and said, “Really, you don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m far from being your boss, Calvin. It’s okay just to call me Emily.”

  “All right . . . Emily.” That sounded a little funny to Calvin, but he didn’t want to argue with her.

  “I’ll see you around,” she told him, then started back through the now packed food court. Some of the franchises weren’t open yet, but some were, and people were already lined up to buy soft drinks, ice cream, frozen yogurt, cookies, pretzels, hot dogs, and even Chinese food. The breakfast of the modern-day bargain hunter, Calvin thought.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall, and watched the steady procession of humanity.

  * * *

  Dressed in the uniform of the murdered Donald Reed, Habib Jabara walked into the American Way Mall with a confident stride and a smile on his face.

  The mall had been open for a while, but there was still a constant stream of people going in and out. Habib had considered getting there while the doors were still locked, so he could mingle with the crowd waiting to get in, but he’d decided that it might look odd for a security guard to be outside like that. By waiting, he had an even better chance of not being noticed. The shoppers who saw him would think he was arriving for a later shift than the guards who were on duty when the place opened.

  The trick was going to be avoiding other guards and mall employees who might see him and know that he wasn’t Donald Reed. Luckily, Habib knew from conversations with Reed that the man hadn’t had many friends among his fellow workers. Reed’s level of intensity in his attitudes had been enough to put most people off.

  Once he was in the mall, he tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. He walked along briskly among the shoppers, not hurrying but trying to make it look like he was on his way somewhere, bound on some errand. He kept a good distance between himself and the real security guards he passed, so they wouldn’t be as likely to be able to read his name tag.

  Habib knew that the mall hired quite a few extra guards for the holiday season, and it was unlikely those temporary workers would be acquainted with all of their fellow employees. The full-timers would think he was one of the new part-timers. The part-timers probably didn’t know much of anyone, maybe two or three of their coworkers at most.

  Habib had thought it all out, spending hours and hours, even days, considering every possibility. That was how he approached things, logically and thoroughly.

  The leaders of the network that had brought him to this country didn’t consider him anyone important, anyone to be listened to. As far as they were concerned, he was just another soldier in their holy cause, a warm body to be sacrificed if need be while they continued their slow, deliberate takeover of the United States.

  Habib was going to prove them wrong about him, and he was going to demonstrate that bold, decisive action was the way to proceed, as well. Allah demanded the blood of the infidels, and Habib was going to deliver it.

  Once he had decided on that, he had set out to gather allies, forming his own organization of men and women who shared his belief that they ought to strike swiftly and brutally against the enemy. Nothing cowed the Americans as much as the sight of their dead families.

  Habib had studied history. He knew that there had been a time when an attack such as the one he planned would have united the Americans in righteous anger, would have roused them to a fury so fierce that their giant rage would have crushed any in opposition to them.

  Many of the older men in the network secretly feared the infidels and worried that if they moved too fast, the Americans might still rise up and swat them down like bugs.

  Those days were long gone, Habib knew, eaten away by the acid of craven, greedy politicians and members of the news media so pompous and self-righteous that they were utterly blind to their own foolishness.

  Habib knew that the country’s heart was hollow now. The United States no longer posed any real threat to the caliphate. So why wait?

  Why not start the killing now?

  No one looking at him would see the thoughts going on in his head. He smiled and nodded at the Americans as he passed them, and they smiled and nodded back, the idiots.

  He opened a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and went along a maintenance corridor to another door that led into a storeroom full of janitorial supplies. This was where Donald Reed—the real Donald Reed—had been hiding the weapons, a few at a time, for weeks now.

  Habib just had to make sure they were there, where they were supposed to be, and then he would return to the main area of the mall and signal Mahmoud, who was also dressed in one of Donald Reed’s uniforms, and who was now waiting to start spreading the word to the others.

  Habib had a hundred men inside the mall, give or take. Something might have happened to delay a few of them, or even prevent them from showing up. But for practical purposes, he was going to call it one hundred men ready to kill.

  Not only to kill. One hundred men ready to die for their cause.

  One hundred men, in the right place and time, could change the world.

  One man could change the world.

  Habib was convinced he was that man.

  He went into the unlocked storeroom and moved several crates, exposing the stack of them with the special markings he recognized. Reed had been telling the truth, Habib thought with a smile.

  He reached out, rested a hand on one of the crates with automatic weapons hidden inside it, and he seemed to be able to feel the raw power emanating from within, the power to take the lives of scores of infidels and demonstrate to the Americans once and for all that their day was over. Now was the time for the Sword of the Prophet to strike.

  “Whatcha doin’ there, pal?” a voice asked from behind him.

  Chapter 14

  Tobey cruised the parking lot for several minutes, looking for an empty space.

  “I think I saw some spots out along the edge,” Ashley said, not sounding like she was complaining, just pointing out facts. “You might as well park out there and we’ll walk.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking that far. Unless you enjoy driving around and around in a crowded parking lot and dodging pedestrians.”

  Tobey grunted and said, “Not hardly.” At the end of the row, he turned toward the outer edge of the lot, instead of back toward the mall.

  Ashley was right. There were empty spaces on the outer fringes of the parking lot, although even there they weren’t in abundance. Tobey backed the pickup into one of them. He had gotten into the habit of being able to get out of wherever he was in a hurry if need be, although he didn’t anticipate that being necessary today.

  So much of being prepared for trouble was being ready to do things you didn’t expect to be necessary. A reasonable person hoped they wouldn’t be necessary. But one of these days, they might be, and the person who was best prepared was generally the one who survived.

  Tobey and Ashley joined the
shoppers heading into the mall. He had devoted considerable thought to how he was going to handle this. He didn’t want to suggest that they split up as soon as they got inside. She would be suspicious of that, for sure. In fact, it would be better if the suggestion came from her, and he had an idea of how to go about achieving that end.

  “It was your idea to come here today,” she said as they walked into the mall. “What do you want to look at first?”

  “How about that place that sells nothing but calendars? They always have some good ones.”

  “All right. That’s pretty close, I think. And they’re probably giving out samples at the cheese and sausage place down there at that end of the mall, too.”

  “I wouldn’t say no to that,” Tobey replied with a smile.

  They spent a good twenty minutes looking at calendars catering to all interests and talking about the various subjects. Ashley made a comment about the time Tobey spent studying the swimsuit calendars, to which he told her, “None of those girls look as good in a bikini as you do, Ash.”

  “You’re just flattering me.”

  He shook his head and said, “Nope, it’s the absolute truth, and I’ll swear to it on a stack of Bibles if you want me to.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. “And I appreciate the sentiment, whether it’s true or not.”

  “Oh, it is. You don’t have to doubt that for a minute.”

  They moved on to the cheese and sausage kiosk nearby, where teenage girls dressed in German milkmaid outfits were indeed passing out samples to shoppers. Tobey tried a couple of different kinds of cheese, as well as a slice of sausage.

  “It’s good,” he told the girl in the elaborate costume who gave him the food. Her piercings and the purple streaks in her blond hair didn’t exactly go with the innocent milkmaid outfit, he thought, and then he told himself not to be judgmental.

  “Thanks,” she said. “The cheese is on sale today.”

  Ashley said, “You’d just as soon not be here, wouldn’t you, honey?”