MINNESOTA

Abi pulled at a piece of yarn in her scarf until it started to pull away from the rest. She’d been at it for ten minutes before the success. With any luck, the horrid scarf would fall apart before they got to the mall.

She hated the mall. It was the last place she wanted to go, especially when she was with her parents. There were sure to be a lot of other kids from her school there tonight. By tomorrow’s lunch, word of Abi’s predicament would be spread around so that even the teachers knew what was going on. Being with parents at the mall meant one of two things. One - she was a dweeb who didn’t have any real friends and had to substitute her parents. Two - she was in trouble and her parents weren’t creative enough to find any other punishment other than to drag her along with them.

Unfortunately her parents were the kind of people who never thought their only daughter would ever dare do anything wrong. She’d made sure that assumption was false but it had taken some doing. Considering that her parents didn’t seem to notice her much, she’d had to go completely over the top to get their attention. Even her best friend hadn’t wanted any part in the plan.

“I’ve got the Christmas dance to consider,” she’d reminded Abi during their phone conversation right before the big event. “This is the first dance a boy has ever asked me to. To put that in jeopardy... well, I’m not going to do it. I’ll do what I can to cover for you.”

“I don’t want you to cover for me, Dani. That’s the idea. I want John and Fern to know what their daughter is doing. I want everyone to know.”

Right now only Dani, her parents and the six policemen who answered the call were aware of her antics. John had been concerned that the partners in his law firm not find out what his offspring was capable of. It might look bad when he came up for promotion next year. Fern hadn’t said anything but Abi knew she was wondering how she could keep this incident a secret from her social circle.

They were both doing the overprotective parent thing to the hilt, turning their heads every few seconds to make sure she was still in the back seat. What killed her was that they weren’t even acting angry. She’d nearly ruined their lives and they were blissfully conversing about the decorations that had sprung up nearly overnight along the roadway. They’d just had the Thanksgiving turkey, her mother remarked, completely dense about the fact that most places had put up their decorations the day after Halloween. Her father tried rather pathetically once again to bring up the idea of spending Christmas in Bermuda. It was something he’d been inserting into conversation every couple of days since their summer vacation to Yellowstone. That hadn’t been fun for either of them although Abi had enjoyed it.

“We’re here,” her father announced as they pulled up into a parking spot right in front of one of the major department stores at this mall. This was the largest mall in the area and the only one her parents would frequent. It was fortunate for Abi seeing as none of her circle of friends would be caught dead at this place; the halls here frequented by more policeman than most other places as they endeavored to keep a stricter sort of peace than other malls might allow.

“Let’s make this quick.” Fern tucked her purse firmly under her arm. “This isn’t the same place after dark.”

“I tried to get home from work early but you know how it is this time of year.”

“I do know. You’re lucky I’ve been so forgiving all these years. Half the nights you spend at the office are of your own free will.”

John frowned, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at his daughter as he tried to defend himself to his wife once again. This was a losing argument but they both seemed to enjoy having it time and time again. Abi had long since stopped listening. Neither of them really meant the words they threw at each other. It was like it was expected of them to have a stupid argument, a requirement just like the right sized house in the right neighborhood. Or going to the pretentious mall even though it was the worst place for a kid to go. It was just what grownups of a certain calibre did.

Faking an untied shoelace, Abi bent down and messed with her shoe while she watched her parents get further away. They’d start looking for her as soon as they realized she was gone but that could be a few more minutes at least. She wasn’t going to go anywhere but it helped to break the distance rule. Maybe they didn’t even realize they had lost her.

Instead of walking in the brightly lit entrance, Abi detoured to the fenced off area that held the large garbage containers. There was a door beyond the fence that was always open. She and Dani had discovered it last summer when they had been dragged along with Fern to try on new dresses for the Spring Dance at the club. They both hated the club but their mother’s always made them attend the different dances that were held throughout the year.

They’d been able to slip away from this excursion and into the bowels of the mall quite easily. Walking the halls that connected the back of most of the stores was far better than being out in public where anyone could see them.

This door was their own secret entrance now. Whenever they were forced to come, they used this door. Abi wasn’t going to let these circumstances change that. Besides, it would make her parents worry when they walked through the main doors and couldn’t see her anymore.

The light over the door was out and the fencing kept out the light from the mall and the parking lot so that the space was dark enough she was frightened. Resolve to irritate her parents yet again stiffened her spine.

“It’s not like they’ve put anything new in your path. Just walk forward and put your hand out to feel the doorknob. No one is waiting in the shadows to hurt you.” That didn’t help to say out loud but at least she was moving forward. She was being brave. This adventure was definitely one she would tell Dani about - minus the part about her being afraid. All Dani had to know was that she’d gone into this dark space and lived to tell about it.

The doorknob was right where she remembered where it was and moved easily when she turned it. All the lights in the hallway beyond must have been working overtime because they flared up as soon as she walked through, blinding her for a few scant seconds.

Instead of walking into the gloom of a service hallway, Abi found herself facing a pile of decimated body parts. Some of them still wore scraps of clothes and some of the feet still were stuffed in shoes. Abi balked at the sight, her stomach turned as she tried to come to grips with what had done something like this. She was even worried about what her parents must have walked into. Were they okay? Had something savaged them so they were only body parts?

An arm slid down the pile. Abi screamed, backing all the way up against the wall so she couldn’t get any further away. Instead of making a soft, squishing sound she would have expected when it landed at the bottom, it clanged. The sound was almost metallic. And there wasn’t any blood.

“What is going on here?” she murmured to herself, fighting against another scream. A couple more parts had shifted and she didn’t want the whole thing collapsing around her. “This isn’t a real arm. These are mannequin parts.”

From the other side of the pile came a grinding noise. Not wanting to get closer to the ripped apart plastic but needing to hide behind something until she knew if she was safe to come out, Abi crept closer to the pile and peered through a hand jutting out from the rest. A large opening gapped against the far wall, spewing out the horrid sound. It was like pieces of metal being forced to work together when they clearly wanted to. She could just make out a cable running up the middle. This was an elevator without a protective door.

The creaking sound was swift and well-modulated like any elevators she had ever used. This sounded stiff and very un-electronic. Like someone was making it work by cranking it themselves. Something about that thought scared Abi even worse than the dark trash area had. Scared her like nothing else ever had.

Abi turned and fled down the hallway without another thought other than survival.

She ran and ran, further than she’d gone with Dani on any of their trips. In her mind, she felt as if she’d run around the circumference of the mall at least once, if not twice. Since she hadn’t come back to the pile of parts, she knew this wasn’t true. Still, her legs felt like jelly and her lungs burned with each breath.

Just as she decided to stop and try to figure out where she was, she heard a different sound. This wasn’t like rusting metal fighting with itself. This was more subdued. Much more subtle. It was the sound of plastic striking the concrete floor. Were the mannequin parts coming after her? Had they formed together themselves or had something... the thing moving the elevator... put them back together?

Thunk. Crink. Thunk. Crink. Thunk. Crink. Sssss...

Abi had no desire to see what was making this noise. She didn’t care how tired she was getting or how hot she was in her coat and half-destroyed scarf. All she knew was that she didn’t want to meet what was coming toward her in the gloom of the hallway. Her only thought was of escape.

NORTH CAROLINA

Rissa was irritated. That was nothing new considering she’d been irritated for three weeks, 2 days and five hours - the exact amount of time she’d had this second job at the bookstore at Pinehurst Mall. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Earn some extra money over the holiday season and get a hefty discount at the same time. What it really meant was that she no longer had any desire to be around people on her days off. Even the books weren’t enough of a pull any longer.

The Christmas season was the worst possible time to try something new. She needed the extra income now that the hours at her main job had been cutback but she hated retail. Everyone was whiney. No one was ever happy with the selection. No matter how hard she tried, it was never enough.

And now she was late. When she’d been late yesterday, her shift manager, Julia, had pulled her aside and questioned her determination to make this arrangement work out. She still remembered the way she’d said this arrangement like it had been such a trial for everyone to change up their schedule. It wasn’t like she was the only one working from 5:30 to 9. There were five of them switching up positions so that no one had to deal with the same sort of customer all night. That had been her idea and one that the three other underlings had clung to even though it wasn’t the way things were normally done.

That was probably the reason Julia looked at her with that disapproving frown every evening when Rissa blew through the doorway. No one liked Julia’s ideas. They weren’t usually thought out well and very often meant someone suffered needlessly just for the sake of suffering. Julia’s idea meant that Julia was never the person who had to watch over the children’s department or man the wrapping station. Rissa’s idea gave Julia a shift at each place just like everyone else.

That idea might be in jeopardy if Rissa showed up late again. Julia was itching to be able to implement the old way once again and those five extra minutes she had without her nemesis might be enough to get them back to doing one shift all evening. No one else seemed eager to stand up to her. Shift-manager was just a term for someone who’d been there the longest, Rissa tried to tell the rest of them over and over again. It didn’t give her the right to lord her position over the rest of them. They were the smart ones, she reminded them. The college kids looking for a way to supplement their student loans or the mothers and fathers trying to supplement their income for the holidays. No one else had plans of staying here for years. Not like Julia whose plan seemed to be to die in Classics right before she was forced to retire because of old age.

“Late again?”

Rissa turned to wave at the security guard lounging on one of the uncomfortable benches outside one of the side entrances. She normally ran into one or two of them here where a security camera couldn’t catch them being lax with their job. Sometimes, if she was earlier than usual, she’d stop and talk with them. It made her feel better to be friends with someone outside the confines of the book store. So far she knew most of the guards and one or two of the kids at the coffee shop on the second floor.

“Always,” she retorted back over her shoulder. “Traffic was horrible tonight. Probably means there’s a storm coming. Everyone has to stock up on necessities like milk and wrapping paper before they’re forced inside for the evening.”

Without waiting for them to answer her, she pushed one of the doors open and breezed through, clearing her watering eyes. Too bad they always lit this front entrance so that it nearly blinded everyone who walked in. She’d never reacted this bad before but the clouds were obscuring any of the light coming in from the full moon.

Veering to the left, Rissa fought against the crowds of people. She’d never seen the mall this full before. Everyone seemed to be crowding together, eager to get to all the last minute sales. Only two days until Christmas, she reminded herself. And then what? They’d just be back for the after-holiday sales. Then there was New Years and Valentine’s Day and on and on into infinity. They would never leave.

She should be glad of those customers but she wasn’t. After all, they were the reason she had this job when she could just scrape by with her day job, eating ramon noodles so she could afford her apartment and gas for her car. She would definitely need some new clothes soon. The ones she’d bought at the second hand store always smelled funny even after she washed them in hot water with the good detergent that wasn’t supposed to let colors run. For once she’d like a shirt that hadn’t been worn by someone else. Maybe a pair of trousers that weren’t already baggy in the rear from use.

Deep in dreams about what she’d really like out of life, Rissa missed the turn down the hall that would take her right to the front door of the bookstore. She looked around in confusion. This wasn’t a part of the mall that she recognized but it was decorated with enough garish Christmas decorations that she couldn’t tell for sure.

“You know the rules. Get moving.”

Rissa turned around to glare at a very badly costumed Santa Clause. “Excuse me? Who gave you the right to talk to mall employees like that?” She would have flipped her hair in consternation but she’d had it trimmed a couple of days ago and it still wasn’t at the length she was used to touching. Her hand’s movement up to her shoulder wasn’t lost on the man, though. He grimaced and backed away slightly.

“It’s the rules.”

“I know the rules,” she demanded hotly even though this one was confusing her. She hadn’t know the mall was so strict about people moving smoothly through the halls. Since this was the first holiday she’d ever actually visited the mall, she couldn’t say with any certainty that this wasn’t an actual rule.

“Let me see your namebadge.”

As always, Rissa had tucked it into her purse last night as she’d left and hadn’t bothered to put it on yet. She always waited until the last moment to become Rissa Galloway, Sales Associate. It wasn’t a part she liked to play. Careful not to disturb the rest of the contents of her crowded purse, she brought out the thick plastic lanyard she wore each night. In her irritation, she swung it a little too stridently before him so that he only got a brief look at the black words.

“Good enough? Can I get to work? I’m late.” Without waiting for his answer, she turned and walked back the way she’d come. Hopefully she’d be able to find the right hallway before she was so dismally late they just decided to fire her than deal with her rebellious attitude.


JANITOR’S CLOSET

Troy assessed his body before opening his eyes. He remembered falling into the blackness and knew the beating hadn’t stopped there. His ribs were sore but he didn’t think any were seriously injured. Since he could still breath, he knew his lungs were still in one piece. The ache in his head let him know everything there was in one piece, more than a little rattled but still there. It was everything else that worried him. He flexed his hands as he opened his eyes, bringing them both up into his blurry view. One of the knuckles was puffy and wouldn’t move on command. The other hand felt like it had been stepped on. Most likely the kid with the cowboy boots. He wouldn’t know how bad it was until the swelling went down.

With a groan, he put his arms back down on his chest and tried to figure out where he was without moving his head. The gray ceiling above him didn’t help much. It could have been anywhere. With another stifled groan, he moved his head, blinking back the pain that threatened to swallow him whole once again.

Mops. He blinked to clear his eyes again. Yep. Still mops. Ten of them lined up against the wall. All of them looked a little worse for wear but they were all clean and presentable.

Taking a few more deep breaths, he rolled onto his side and up onto one arm. He was on a cot that was neatly made with a scratchy brown blanket and a lumpy pillow. Whoever slept here would be warm if not exactly comfortable the entire night.

He surveyed the room carefully, trying to find more details that might give him some idea of where he was. Along the same wall as the mops were several large buckets on wheels. On another wall leaned different sized brooms, waiting to be of some use. A shelf opposite the wall with the bed held various cleaning products and a pile of towels.

“This is all too real to be a dream. I wouldn’t hurt quite as bad if I was still passed out.”

No one answered him back, something he was glad of. He didn’t want to try to explain what had happened while trying to come to grips with his current situation. Hanna must have had a fit when she showed up and he wasn’t around. With these kinds of aches, he was assuming he’d been out of commission for at least half an hour. Maybe more if they’d given him a concussion.

What was he going to tell the kids? He reached for his cell phone before remembering it had been snagged along with his wallet. There was no way he was going to be getting either one back. The cops wouldn’t bother with a man like him. It had been a stupid place to hang out in the dark. He should have known better.

In the corner was a sink. It was probably used for mixing chemicals and filling the bucket but Troy didn’t mind. He needed to clean up before he tried leaving. His lip felt cracked which meant he probably had some blood on his face. He didn’t want to wander around looking like a victim if there were any more groups of angry boys out there ready to display their manhood on the weakest visitor to the mall.

There wasn’t a mirror but he felt around with wet fingers, making sure there wasn’t anything sticky on his cheeks. While he was at it, he probed his hairline to make sure he didn’t have any scalp wounds that might have sprung a leak. Wiping his hands and face on one of the towels, he straightened his clothing.

But still he hesitated at the door. Even though he was in a closet, he was safe. No one was going to gang up on him and attempt to start where the last group had left off. If he stayed in here, he was safe.

I didn’t raise you to be a fool, boy. Hearing his mother’s voice in his head wasn’t something he normally had to deal with but this was one of those situations that called for it. Without the small goad, even if it was just his own subconscious dressed up with the outward trappings of his mother, he would have gotten back on the cot and never left. There would be nothing left of Troy Hutchinson but strange rumors about the hermit who ate nothing but what he found on mousetraps. That thought made him smile. His mother didn’t raise a fool and she certainly didn’t raise a quitter.

Yanking the door open, he stood in a slight crouch and waited for someone to spring at him. When no one did, he walked into the room beyond.

“’Bout time you woke up. I was beginning to think I might need to call a medic to come take care of you. Head wounds are no laughing matter.” A grizzled man leaned back in a rickety chair and smiled around an unlit cigar. “Feeling better?”

“Better than what?”

This brought a chuckle from the man, a deep laugh that was full of mirth. More mirth than Troy thought the question deserved. He hadn’t meant it to be the joke the man obviously thought it was.

“Well, you’ve got your humor so you must not be too bad off. Would you like something to eat? I’ve got a supply of sugar cookies that will last me until doomsday. Those I’m not adverse to sharing those. Now my private stash of chocolate oranges. Those are a real treat. You’re lucky I’m feeling so generous.”

From the looks of the man, Troy would have thought he’d be giving out shots of whiskey or bowls of stew filled with meat from animals he shot himself. Chocolate oranges didn’t exactly seem his speed.

…(to be continued)…