No Easy Way Out (24 page)

So he made the case against himself. From the car crash, to the cop he hit with the radio, to tonight. He told Shay he’d had a girlfriend when he came to the mall. That he hadn’t even thought of Emma once after he met her.

Shay sat beside him the whole time. Didn’t flinch at anything he said.

“Think she’s waiting for you?” she said finally.

“I tell you that I basically kicked an old guy’s ass and that’s what you focus on?”

She nuzzled her head against him. “How could I judge you? I got my grandmother killed and my sister sick.”

“That was the flu,” he said.

“I wish I could believe that,” she said, her voice catching.

His arms were all he had to offer. He held her until she stopped shaking.

“This mall is just bad,” he said.

“The worst,” she said, a smile coloring her voice. “So about this Emma?”

“She’s kind of an attention hog,” he said. “She would make a big deal about knowing someone on the inside, assuming anyone still cares about us. Who knows, though? We’ve been gone over a week. Everyone might have forgotten about us by now.”

“I keep forgetting it’s only been a week.”

He slumped back onto his hands, and her body relaxed into him. “I came here to buy a Halloween costume,” he said.

“I came here to feel normal.”

“Too bad the bomb had to go off. That was definitely not normal.”

She lifted her face and he felt her breath against his cheek. “This feels normal.”

He turned his cheek to meet her. “This feels anything but normal to me.”

And the kiss? Definitely not normal.

• • •

Marco buzzed with nervous energy. What had he unleashed on this mall? The sheer enormity of it was dazzling—Mike would blow apart the security chief’s plans, freeing Marco of all the crap that’d been slung on him. He had shed his problems like a snakeskin. He was reborn.

And so when Drew pushed open the IMAX theater’s service door revealing the lanky, goateed
pendejo
who’d ordered Marco around the night before, Marco felt his grip on the metal shaft he held tighten.

The
pendejo
pointed at Marco. “Where’s the new keg?” he said, like he had any authority. “This one is skunked.” He drained the last sip from his cup.

Drew twirled his pole. “You boys better clear out.”

Goatee stepped forward. “Or what?”

“Hey, aren’t you the dickweed who tried to mess with us two nights ago?” another asked.

“Where’s your pal with the gun?” said the third.

Drew did not reply, simply began smacking heads with his pole. The
pendejos
dropped, began to crawl along the floor.

“What the hell?” one cried.

“We’ll go!” another screamed. “Stop with the poles!”

Drew stepped on one guy’s chest. “You know what, I just don’t think I’m done kicking your sorry ass.” He dropped a knee, then punched the guy in the face.

Marco felt freed from his fear—something about being with someone like Drew, of having these assholes crawling before him made Marco feel invincible. He dropped a pole between the legs of the goatee guy.

“You want to apologize for being such a dick last night?”

“Screw you, dork,” the guy answered.

Marco jammed the pole into the asshat’s groin. The guy squealed like a girl. One of his pals scrambled to his feet and fled for the doors out into the mall. Marco climbed onto Goatee’s chest.

Tears slid down his face, but still the
pendejo
copped an attitude. “You’re so dead, loser.”

Marco let all the years of crap fill his fists and just unloaded on the guy’s face. Every insult, every shove, every time some asshole pissed on his life, from elementary school to the present, he unleashed them all onto this guy, his arms slinging over and over, hitting bone, then not.

Drew grabbed his shoulder. “Holy crap,” was all he said, pulling Marco from the guy’s bloodied body. Wet breaths bubbled from the wreckage of his face.

Marco wanted to feel guilty, feel bad, but all he felt was powerful. Blood ran in rivulets down his arms.

• • •

Shay pulled Ryan down onto the sleeping bag. She wanted to kiss him deeper, longer, and her wrist had begun to hurt. Funny, how she’d never thought of wrists when she’d dreamed of kissing.

She’d had a lot of ideas about kissing, from books, from movies. She’d even kissed boys, but not like she kissed Ryan now. They’d even kissed before, but that had been more like an escape. Now, this kissing—this was more like sharing. She explored his body as if it were her own, wanted his hands on her. In the darkness, she felt so close to him, there was nothing separating them but skin.

• • •

Mike appeared in the doorway and surveyed the scene. Marco dropped his hands, thinking it was probably inappropriate to keep admiring his blood-red gloves.

Drew lifted the
pendejo
he’d dropped and hauled him across his shoulders. “We ran into some resistance.”

“He alive?”

“He’s breathing.”

“Bring them down to the pancake place,” Mike said, unfazed. “We have to move the supplies up before security finds us.”

“Where’s Shrimp?” Drew said, hefting his unconscious baggage out the door.

“He needed a moment.”

Marco took the arms of his fallen enemy and dragged him across the floor toward the door. As he passed, Mike grabbed his shoulder. He held out the universal card key.

“Nice work,” he said.

Marco dropped one of the guy’s arms and took the card, slid it back into his pocket. “Thanks.”

• • •

Ryan couldn’t believe he’d ruined everything. “Oh, god,” he said, trembling, pulling away from her. It was middle school all over again.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice thick.

He fumbled on the floor for a T-shirt, anything to clean her skin off.

“Hey,” Shay said, her fingers finding his arm. “It’s okay.”

Ryan wasn’t sure whose clothes were whose. He just needed something. He couldn’t believe how he’d screwed this up. Everything up. What
hadn’t
he ruined tonight?

“Ryan,” Shay said, stopping his floundering.

“I wanted this to be perfect,” he said. He would
not
cry.

She placed her hand on his chest, wrapped her body around him. “This is perfect.”

He felt cold all of a sudden, not from his nakedness. She rested her head against his shoulder like he could hold her up.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he said, the words feeling like rocks in his mouth. “I’ve hurt people,” he managed. He couldn’t control the trembles that shook them both.

Shay held him tighter. “It’s this place,” she whispered. “Remember? This mall is just bad.”

And still, she held him.

L
exi awoke to a changed mall. Not in the sense that she was now a Girl Who Had Been Kissed, which in itself felt revolutionary, but like, literally, the mall had changed. Whereas every other morning, she walked out into the blinding light of the first-floor courtyard, sunshine streaming down from the skylights in the ceiling four stories up, this morning, there was only the dull glow of the fluorescents lighting the space. Looking up, the explanation for the change presented itself. The windows were blacked out, covered by something from the outside.

“What the . . . ?” Maddie said, mouth agape. If even Maddie was shocked by this development, Lexi knew that her astonishment was legit.

Ginger’s face melted. “No sunlight? How I am I supposed to live without sunlight?”

“What are you, a ficus?” Maddie said, recovering her caustic self. “So the place has gotten slightly crappier. Why are we surprised?” She marched over to the food line.

Lexi could tell that this slight increase in crappiness was not going over well with anyone. Everywhere she looked, people were staring up at the ceiling like it threatened to drop on their heads. If morale had been in the toilet before, it was now sluicing down the sewer.

The mall speakers squeaked—word from the Senator was coming to soothe the fears of the masses. Lexi prayed her mother could pull another miracle out of her butt.

“Good morning,” the Senator’s voice boomed. “As you have undoubtedly noticed, the government has deemed it necessary to seal over all of the windows. This is due to an ill-thought-out escape attempt by some deviants last night after Lights Out. Might I remind everyone that escape is not an option. All windows and doors are now sealed over, and every air vent out of the building is hooked up to a massive micro-particle filtering machine that would crush you alive. Even if you could get out, this facility is surrounded and cordoned off by an impenetrable electric fence topped with razor wire. So please, for your own safety, refrain from making the mistake of trying to escape. You must be patient.

“I ask you to be patient because there is good news. Over the last three days, since the implementation of the hygiene protocols, we have seen a decrease in the number of new flu-related intakes at the medical center. I and Dr. Stephen Chen, head of the medical center, have been in contact with the CDC and believe that if we maintain our vigilance with wearing our masks and keeping surfaces clean, the quarantine might be ended within a week.

“So please, remain calm. Stick with the hygiene protocols. And cease all deviant behavior. Curfew will be enforced through whatever means the security teams deem necessary. Any resident found outside his Home Store after curfew will be detained and his threat to the community assessed before being released back into his Home Store. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Lexi instantly thought of Marco. Had he been snagged by security after he left her office? If Goldman already had it in for Marco, he would be sure to never let him out of captivity again. Lexi did not want Marco thrown in some solitary confinement just because she had asked him on a date.

“I need to go see my mom,” she said, refitting her mask.

“Tell her that the deviant community is considering her request.” Maddie shoveled another bite into her mouth.

“Let us know if you find anything else out?” Ginger begged, eyes wide in panic.

The mall offices were like a hallway at school just before the bell for first period: People everywhere, pushing, yelling, and all trying to get someplace else. Lexi fought her way past a woman barking numbers to a man at a computer terminal, guards suiting up for what looked like duty in a maximum security prison, and an old lady with actual paper on a clipboard waiting outside the Senator’s office.

Inside the office was Goldman. “There was only one body in the Pancake Palace, but there were several injured men,” he was saying.

“And the alcohol?” Her mother alternated her attention between reading her computer screen and an iPad while he spoke.

“There were some broken bottles and some empties, but the place was cleaned out. One of the injured said they were attacked by two young men, one of whom had a handgun.”

“Great,” her mother said, smoothing her hair as if the gesture could soothe her brain. “So now I have gangs taking each other out?”

“I warned you that these types had to be dealt with.” Goldman folded his arms across his chest. “And the dead guy? He was the one the Spider-Man kid saved.”

“You think that kid and his friends did this?”

“Could be,” Goldman said, shrugging. “From what the injured guy said, Reynolds spoke to the kid before the guy shot him.”

“Bring Marco in,” her mother said. Lexi froze up hearing his name before remembering Marco said he’d been working with her. Had Marco told her yet about Goldman?

“I have reason to believe that your pal Marco is involved with these vigilantes.”

“No!” Lexi shouted, bursting in from the hall.

Both Goldman and her mother glared at her.

Dotty spoke first. “Lex, I am very busy at the moment.”

Lexi pointed at Goldman. “He’s lying,” she said. “Marco told me that
he
was involved with those alcohol guys.”

Goldman didn’t even flinch. “Ma’am, I know you trust your daughter, but I should also tell you that the hidden camera outside the Pancake Palace was removed and destroyed. Only you and your daughter knew the placement of those cameras.”

Lexi’s throat closed up. She’d told Marco about the cameras, but would he have told anyone else? Was he with whoever killed that guy? No. Marco wasn’t a killer. But he’d been so weird, asking about Batman movies.
No.
No way.

Lexi swallowed, regained use of her voice. “That camera was bulky,” she said. “Maybe they just saw it.”

Were this one of her movies, Lexi would have drawn fumes rising from her mother’s skull based on the look on her face. “But how would they know there were any cameras to
look
for?”

“I told Marco about the cameras,” Lexi blurted. “But he said he was working for you, helping you find the stolen alcohol. I was helping you!” She could not keep her voice from cracking, nor dry up the tears that bulged in her eyes.

Her mother smoothed her hands across the surface of the desk, sucked in a deep breath, then drummed her fingertips on its edges. “Lexi, I appreciate your trying to help, but I’m going to need you to run all information you receive from Marco from here on out by me.”

“He was coming to tell you about Goldman,” Lexi pleaded. “He told me he would.”

“Lexi, Marco did not check in with his Home Store last night, nor did he get dinner. He has not checked in this morning. In other words, he has left my employ. I’m assuming that he’s involved with these vigilantes now, based on what you tell me about him having knowledge of the secret cameras and the obvious discovery of the cameras.”

“Goldman knew about the cameras,” Lexi said, getting desperate. “He could have destroyed the one outside the Pancake Palace!”

“Good god,” Goldman said, slapping his arms on the armrests and standing. “Why the hell are we listening to this, Dotty?”

Her mother’s shoulders slumped. “Sweetheart, I know you like Marco, but really.”

Lexi felt like maybe she was having a heart attack. She hadn’t seen Marco’s face. Could he have been lying about Goldman zapping him? Could Marco have lied to her about everything? No. She wouldn’t believe it. She kissed him. She
knew
him.

Her mother continued her meeting with Goldman as if Lexi had evaporated. “Last I heard from Marco, the Spider-Men were hiding out somewhere in the garage. If they’re not there, I’m going to need your teams to start reviewing the hidden camera footage, see if we can’t find them. Then we need to discuss plans for tonight.”

“I’ve already located two sites for use as holding cells for deviants.”

“Then do whatever you feel necessary to prevent their going anywhere else.”

Goldman left. Her mother called in the next appointment, the woman with the clipboard. They started talking about quantities of beans and rice. About shrinking rations to survival levels.

“Should the girl be in here?” the clipboard lady asked.

“I think she’s learned her lesson about whom to trust.”

The implication was clear to Lexi: Trust family, no one else. But wasn’t her mother breaking that rule, taking Goldman’s word over hers? Of course, Lexi herself was relying on Marco’s word over Goldman’s. But Marco wasn’t a liar.
Was he?

She left the room without having to be asked. Across the hall, she saw that her father was still in bed.

“Dad?”

He didn’t respond.

“Daddy!”

Guards pushed past Lexi, held her back away from her father. One stuck a handheld thermometer in his ear, then her father and his cot were lifted and a path cleared down the hall and out of the office space. Lexi watched as if viewing a movie, someone else’s life. Her mother joined her in the hall, took her hand.

“We’re okay, baby,” she said. “We’re going to be okay.”

They followed her father down to the medical center.

• • •

Shay awoke. That alone surprised her. She’d actually slept. Her body wasn’t exhausted. She felt somewhat alert. And she wasn’t alone anymore. Ryan was curled next to her, breathing softly in deep sleep. Faint outlines of shapes were visible; the lights had been turned on in the parking garage, and white shone through the seams of the door to their closet. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.

Having some use of her mind, Shay pulled out her notebook and its lighted pen and tried to get a hold of her situation. She would not leave Ryan. She knew that much. The only question was whether she should take Preeti out of the regular mall system to hide out with them. Apart from the obvious need for privacy, there was the issue of Preeti herself.

Preeti was doing well in the school, and the Home Store was a safe place for her. Shay had watched Preeti hanging out with her friends in front of a Wii game miming dance steps. It would be a major battle to get her to leave all that and hide out in the basement. And what had Shay really done to protect her sister, anyway? Kris was the one who was watching out for her.

Was she rationalizing? Was this just her finding an excuse to leave Preeti so she could be alone with Ryan? Oh god, who was she to know? Rationalization though it may be, her thinking made sense. The last time she’d talked to Preeti, all they’d done was scream at each other. And she could sneak out every once in a while to check on her. She would leave Preeti in the mall; she and Ryan would live here, together. This was a good plan.

A door slammed nearby. No one had come near their corner of the parking garage in all the time they’d been there. Was it Ryan’s hulking compatriots? Or, worse, Marco?

Shay grabbed whatever clothing she could and began covering herself. Footsteps tapped outside the door.

“Ryan!” she whispered, shaking him.

He mumbled something.

She shook him harder. “Someone’s coming!” she hissed through her teeth.

Ryan pushed himself up and dragged on a pair of shorts. He peeked out the door and instantly pressed it shut. “Security.”

An animal panic seized Shay. They’d found her. They’d drag her back to jail.

Ryan knelt by her, took her hand. “They must be here looking for Mike.”

“They found me,” Shay mumbled. “They’re here for me.”

Ryan squeezed her hand. “They think you went back into the real mall. But Marco may have told security that we lived here when he was working for the senator.”

“Marco was working for the senator?” All the clarity Shay’d felt evaporated.

“Yes,” Ryan said hurriedly. “Just hide. They’ll see me and won’t even look for you.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“We don’t have a choice,” he said. He kissed her, then pushed her toward a corner where a bunch of sandwich boards announcing “Lot Full” were piled.

“I don’t want to hide.”

“I don’t want them to take you. Go back to the Home Store. I’ll find you.”

Security banged on the door. “Michael Richter, we know you are inside and have you surrounded. Place your firearm on the ground and come out with your hands where we can see them.”

Ryan turned back to her. “Please!”

Shay was so scared, she just did as he said. She lifted the pile of signs and arranged them over her. Ryan tossed a few pieces of clothing on the pile, then walked to the door.

“Mike isn’t here,” he shouted.

The door burst open, knocking Ryan back. The lights flared on and guards flooded into the tiny space. Two grabbed Ryan’s arms. Shay’s heart was in her throat.

“Where’s Richter?” one guard asked.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “I left him last night.”

“Only one sleeping bag is unrolled, the other two are over here.”

“Could be a fake-out,” the lead guard said. “Let’s see what Goldman can get from him.”

The guards dragged Ryan out of the room. Shay remained hidden under the signs for a while longer, trying to calm her animal brain back into rational thought.

She would not leave Ryan to whoever this Goldman character was. She would rescue him. But she needed help. No, she needed the card key she and Marco had stolen. She could search for Ryan herself, door by door through the whole mall. But where to find Marco?

If he was working with Ryan’s friends, maybe they were where Ryan last saw them: the Pancake Palace. She would start there.

The door to the Pancake Palace was closed, but unlocked. Shay pulled it open and found a mess. A telling mess. Two tables were overturned in the corner, their tops bristling with arrows. Black scorch marks marred the walls in several places. Broken glass sparkled on the tile floor. But worse, much worse, were the brownish stains on the floor. Blood.

She remembered what Ryan had said about what he’d done, that he’d hurt people. For some reason, when he’d said it, she hadn’t pictured anything, just saw her Ryan, the guy who held her when she needed holding. But seeing this . . . She’d never hurt anyone, had never been involved with violence until she was run over by a rioting mob. Had Ryan caused another person to feel the way she’d felt? The thought made her sick.