“I doubt that.”
They sat in silence, and watched as the small flame in the candle glass started to flicker and sputter. Michael leaned forward and poured the melted wax onto the floor. He righted the glass carefully, not wanting to drown the remaining bit of light left.
Amanda squeezed his hand. “Maybe they got some candles in that coffee store, too.”
“We can’t go… You said it yourself. That dumb song is still playing.”
“Well maybe he’s got a cell phone hooked up to the speakers and maybe he’s got it set on repeat. Maybe he left a long time ago… just like you said.”
Michael was shaking his head. That music has been playing for days. Any old cell phone battery would’ve died by now. No, that fat fucker is still here.”
“Don’t swear.”
“Sorry.”
The song played through and started up again. The candle burned itself out, and the twins were left cowering in complete blackness.
Chapter 14
They’d started running after their mother was killed. Or Michael was running—Amanda was being pulled along. They hid behind a big square bin of men’s socks, and listened to the gunfire. Pop. Pop. Pop. There had been clicking sounds between the shots; reloading. Pop. Pop. Pop. Michael and Amanda lifted their heads slowly up over the bin and saw him. It was a security guard. He was wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt and black tie. His thick forearms were covered with hair as black as his tie, and his head was shiny bald.
He hadn’t said a word since entering the big store. He just kept shooting people—all kinds of people. He shot store employees and shoppers alike. An old man stuck in his overturned wheelchair begged for mercy. The fat guard shot him in the temple. A teenager was running up the steps of a stilled escalator—he shot her in the back, butt, and both legs. Both big fists were gripping revolvers. The fat mass of single jowl under his chin shook with the ferocity of each shot. Massive dark circles had stained the underarms of his shirt. The sweat glistened off his scalp and leaked into his bushy eyebrows. He was breathing in and out hard, huffing like a big animal. Amanda thought he was running out of steam—that he might drop dead from a heart attack—but then she realized it was adrenaline pushing him on. He was grinning sadistically. He was enjoying it.
And then he’d turned quickly and spotted them.
In that brief moment, Amanda had seen two things. Number one: she saw the guns being pointed directly at them. Number two: The plastic identification badge clipped to his damp chest had been covered over with a wide piece of masking tape. The name ROY was scrawled there in big, red felt-marker letters.
Pop. Pop.
Michael had pulled her back down as an explosion of wood chips and socks rained over their backs. They scurried on their hands and knees into racks of men’s trousers and work pants, and didn’t stop moving until they were in the women’s’ department.
Roy’s attention had been diverted. He was busy shooting other people.
Why aren’t they screaming anymore? Why are they dying so quietly?
“What?”
“When he was shooting them… why didn’t they scream?” She asked in a whisper. They had spoken softly in the backroom office up until then. Now with the candle out, and sitting in darkness, they whispered softly to one another. It’s what people did in pitch blackness.
“I dunno. Maybe they were too busy just trying to get away.”
“I guess not everyone died quietly. I can still hear the babies crying. Roy didn’t shoot the babies. He just let them cry until they stopped all on their own.”
Michael swatted at his sister’s knee. “What did Dad always tell you? You dwell on stuff too much. You have to stop thinking about it… about what we saw and heard. Besides, it was only one baby crying, and we don’t know if it died. Maybe it just went to sleep or something.”
“It didn’t fall asleep, dummy. It starved to death, and there was more than just the one where we were. I heard others crying… down in the other end of the mall, maybe in the food court.”
“Quit dwelling, Amanda… it’s why you’re having those nightmares.”
“I can see them now, in the dark like this… Please, Michael, will you go to the coffee store and see if they got any candles?”
He chewed on the knuckles of his hand. Perhaps there would be something better than candles. Maybe he could find a flashlight or two. Maybe they would be shot dead. “I don’t know… he doesn’t know we’re here.”
“Please.”
“Alright, but we go together or we don’t go at all.” Her silence was answer enough for him. They stood up and crept forward into the dark. Michael’s leg struck the desk, causing it to shift noisily a few inches on the floor. Amanda’s fingers tightened around his hand. Quiet! They found the deadbolt latch beneath the door handle. Michael pushed the door up into the frame with all of his strength so the metal bolt wouldn’t scrape, and turned it slowly. He pulled the door in a crack, and dull yellow light from the single emergency bulb somewhere overhead flooded in. They moved from the private office into the toy store’s storage room. Amanda hung back, half through the doorway. Michael saw that his sister was still clutching her lion. “Leave that thing sitting in the door so it doesn’t lock behind us.”
“But I need him.”
“You’re almost eleven, you don’t need toys anymore.”
She placed the lion gently into the frame and let the door rest up against it. Michael pulled her after him, past the grey metal shelving filled with boxes. The enormous pink doll house was still sitting up against the swinging door leading into the main part of the store. Amanda was now using the box it had been packaged in as a house of her own. Leaving the plastic structure in front of the door had been her idea; if Roy had entered the storeroom, they would’ve heard it scraping along the floor. They picked it up and moved it away from the door.
Canon in D ended. They waited a few seconds until it started all over again, and then crept into the back of the store. They moved slowly and held their breath all the way to the front. Michael poked his head out and looked both ways along the wide corridor. There was light coming in over a hundred feet away from the broken windows in the sportswear store. Michael squinted against the distant brightness, and thought he saw someone moving outside—a woman? He blinked, and the movement was gone. She wasn’t there… Nobody’s out there. The bookstore directly across from them was dark and shadow-filled. Surely they could find some kind of light in there; one of those clip-on LEDs for night reading. Maybe later, he decided. I’ll explore the bookstore once Amanda’s safely back in that office with all of her chocolates. He looked down the right side of the plaza way again—the way they had to go. It wasn’t as well lit, lined with dozens of empty, dark stores. Michael paused. “I’ll go back and get the butter knife… just in case.”
“What’re you going to do with a butter knife? He’s got guns—lots of them.”
“Okay, no knife. But we have to move fast. No more holding hands. We get to that store and take what we need. I’ll look for candles and flashlights, you grab the chocolate. See if you can find something to drink, too. I’m sick of drinking from the back of the toilet.”
She nodded quickly. “I’m ready.”
He mouthed the word go and they sprinted forward on the toes of their shoes. They skirted around the bench and potted plant sitting in the middle of the corridor, and headed deeper into the mall, their small bodies casting monstrously long shadows ahead.