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The bullet passed through Santa Claus.
Mara saw the old fiberglass head explode in a puff of red paint and insulation, then the glass behind it burst across the abandoned Christmas village.
She dove.
Plastic candy canes snapped beneath her.
A plywood chimney caught the second shot.
HO HO HO!
The sign lit up.
Mara stared at it.
“No.”
The mall had no electricity.
The sign blinked again.
HO HO HO!
“Absolutely not.”
A third bullet punched through the O.
Mara crawled behind Santa’s throne and drew her revolver.
“Ellis!”
His voice floated down from the second-floor balcony.
“Drop the bag!”
“You shot Santa!”
“He was between me and the bag!”
“It’s September!”
“What?”
“Nothing!”
Mara leaned out and fired.
Ellis disappeared behind the railing.
Her shot hit the dark mouth of an abandoned toy workshop.
The mall swallowed the crack and threw it back.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Then the echoes continued.
The echoes grew fainter as they traveled down corridors that shouldn’t have been long enough to hold them.
Crack.
Crack.
...
crack.
Mara waited.
Silence.
Then—
crack.
Very far away.
That last echo bothered her.
She grabbed the duffel and ran.
Sunlight leaked through skylights three floors above.
That was wrong too.
The directory said Meridian Mall had two floors.
Mara had checked the directory more than once.
YOU ARE HERE.
Ground floor.
Upper level.
That was it.
Yet above the upper level were windows.
Rows of black rectangles sat where the walls should have ended.
Sometimes Mara thought she saw furniture behind the glass.
Once she'd seen a ceiling fan turning.
She didn't look anymore.
She sprinted through the atrium.
Her boots slapped polished tile.
A dead fountain occupied the center, surrounded by artificial palm trees whose plastic leaves remained offensively green. Pennies covered the fountain bottom. Thousands of them, maybe tens of thousands.
Once, people had tossed perfectly good money into that water and wished for things.
Mara vaulted the rim.
A bullet struck tile.
She stumbled.
“Give me the antibiotics!”
Ellis.
Close. Much too close.
She fired backward.
“Come get them!”
“I am!”
“Try harder!”
“You're surprisingly difficult to rob!”
“Thank you!”
“That wasn't a compliment!”
“It is now!”
She cleared the fountain.
Ellis appeared above her on the escalator.
He wasn't riding it; the thing had been dead for years.
But for one bizarre second, seeing him descending those frozen mechanical stairs made Mara remember what escalators were supposed to do.
Carry people.
People holding shopping bags.
People checking phones.
Children licking ice cream.
Couples arguing.
Teenagers pretending not to notice each other.
Ordinary things from a dead world.
A poster beside Ellis showed a family laughing over shopping bags.
Their teeth were too white.
Their clothes were too clean.
FIND YOUR HAPPY PLACE.
Mara fired.
The bullet punched through HAPPY.
Ellis ducked.
Mara bolted into an old department store.
Its letters were gone.
Their shadows remained on the wall.
A name made from cleaner concrete.
She ran through cosmetics.
Perfume bottles stood in dark cases.
Mirrors multiplied her.
Her reflection repeated down the aisle until thirty Maras seemed to be sprinting through a store where nobody had bought anything in twenty years.
A mannequin appeared directly ahead.
Mara nearly shot it.
It wore a yellow summer dress.
Its blank plastic face had been turned toward her.
She stopped.
She knew this mannequin.
Yesterday it had been downstairs.
She was almost certain. That was the problem.
“Don't.”
The mannequin remained silent.
“I'm serious.”
Footsteps.
Mara ran.
She shoved through an EMPLOYEES ONLY door.
The service corridor smelled like wet concrete, mouse droppings, and old cardboard.
Yellow walls, gray floor, pipes overhead. No storefronts or skylights. Nothing to suggest an outside world existed.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The mall became different back here.
It felt less dead than unfinished.
The storefronts felt like scenery; back here was the machinery underneath.
Mara ran.
Behind her—
BANG.
Ellis entered the corridor.
“Stop!”
“No!”
“We can talk about this!”
“You're shooting at me!”
“I stopped!”
“You're holding a rifle!”
“So are half the people I talk to!”
“How many people do you talk to?”
Pause.
“Mostly you.”
That was depressing enough that Mara didn't answer.
The corridor forked.
Left: loading dock.
Right: food court.
She went right.
The floor vanished.
Mara jumped.
Her boots struck concrete on the other side.
She nearly fell backward into the hole.
She recovered and turned.
Ellis rounded the corner and stopped.
Twelve feet of collapsed floor separated them.
Below was darkness.
Not ordinary basement darkness. Something deeper.
Cold air rose from it smelling faintly of chlorine.
Mara had dropped a glow stick down there once.
She never saw it land.
Ellis looked into the hole.
Then at her.
“What's down there?”
“Clearance merchandise.”
“Seriously.”
“No idea.”
“Basement?”
“Basements have bottoms.”
He stared.
Mara raised her revolver.
Ellis raised the rifle.
They aimed across the gap.
Neither fired.
A speaker clicked overhead.
Both looked up.
Static.
Then music.
Soft, tinny, instrumental.
Mara recognized the melody without knowing its name.
Mall music.
The sort of mall music meant to slide through your head without leaving a mark.
Ellis lowered the rifle.
“No.”
“Yep.”
“There is no power.”
“Correct.”
“Then why is there music?”
“Same reason there's a third floor.”
“There isn't a third floor.”
“Look up sometime.”
The music stopped.
A woman's voice replaced it.
Cheerful and calm.
“Attention Meridian shoppers.”
Static.
“Meridian Mall will be closing in fifteen minutes.”
Ellis looked at Mara.
“What time is it?”
“Morning.”
“Right.”
“Also the mall closed twenty years ago.”
“Also that.”
The speaker crackled.
“Please bring your final purchases to the nearest register.”
Mara looked at the duffel.
Ellis looked at the duffel.
Then at each other.
“No,” Mara said.
“Agreed.”
They ran.
They reached the food court from opposite entrances.
Mara came through an abandoned noodle shop.
Ellis through an old pretzel stand.
They saw each other.
Both fired.
Both missed.
“Truce lasted long!”
“You looked at the bag!”
“I have eyes!”
“Use them somewhere else!”
Mara vaulted the counter of an old pizza restaurant.
Ellis flipped a table and crouched behind it.
The food court stretched between them.
It was huge in a way that felt wrong.
That was the first thing everyone noticed.
There had never been enough restaurants to justify this much seating.
Hundreds of tables, perhaps more.
Rows disappearing toward the dark end of the concourse.
Purple and green chairs repeated in alternating rows until distance reduced them to colored dots.
Above them, the ceiling had been painted blue.
White clouds floated across the painted ceiling, with plastic hot-air balloons hanging from fishing line.
One balloon slowly rotated.
No wind.
The painted clouds bothered Mara more than the dark end of the food court.
The clouds had no perspective. Walk twenty feet and they didn't seem to change, as if the painted sky followed you.
“Two bottles!” Ellis called.
“No!”
“You have six!”
“Four!”
“Four?”
Mara winced.
“Forget I said that.”
“Give me one!”
“No!”
“Why do you need four?”
“Why do you need one?”
“My hand's infected.”
Mara hesitated.
“What?”
Silence.
“Ellis?”
“Nothing.”
“Show me.”
“No.”
“You just shot at me over antibiotics because you're infected?”
“You stole them!”
“I found them!”
“In my pharmacy!”
“You don't own the pharmacy!”
“I slept there!”
“That's not how property works!”
“I don't think property works anymore!”
Mara hated that he had a point.
Mara edged around the counter.
“Show me.”
Ellis stood.
Slowly, he showed her his left hand, wrapped in cloth.
He unwound it.
Even across the food court Mara could see the swelling.
Red streaks climbed his wrist.
“That looks bad.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“You could've told me.”
“We've been trying to kill each other.”
“You could've mentioned it between bullets.”
“I'll improve my communication.”
The ceiling groaned.
Both looked up.
A crack ran through one painted cloud.
Mara frowned.
“That's new.”
The cloud split.
Concrete dropped.
“RUN!”
The ceiling came down.
Tables launched.
Plastic chairs scattered.
A hot-air balloon vanished beneath concrete.
The noodle-shop sign fell forward and exploded.
Mara sprinted.
Something struck her shoulder.
She spun.
Hit tile.
Dust swallowed everything.
Darkness. Noise. Then silence.
Not ordinary silence. Mall silence: broad, hollow, large enough to have architecture.
Mara opened her eyes.
Dust hung in the air.
“Mara?”
Ellis.
Somewhere close.
“Unfortunately.”
“You alive?”
“Still evaluating.”
A flashlight clicked on.
Ellis appeared through the dust.
Blood ran down his forehead.
His rifle was gone.
Mara still had the revolver.
She raised it.
Ellis stared at the barrel.
“Seriously?”
“Habit.”
“The building is collapsing.”
“Your side started it.”
“The building doesn't have sides.”
“Everything has sides.”
Another groan rolled through the structure.
The sound was long and low, and the floor trembled.
Ellis pointed toward the west corridor.
“Loading dock.”
Mara holstered the revolver.
“Temporary truce.”
“Again?”
“Again.”
“How many temporary truces before this becomes a relationship?”
“Keep talking and we'll find out.”
They ran.
The second department store seemed to be waiting for them.
That was how it felt—not abandoned so much as waiting.
They entered through Women's.
Rows of clothing racks stood untouched.
Fabric had rotted away years ago, leaving empty hangers suspended from metal bars.
Hundreds of them were perfectly spaced, every hanger facing the same direction.
The air smelled of dust and something powdery.
Not decay. New clothes—the impossible chemical smell of a department store on opening morning.
Mara walked faster.
The store absorbed sound.
Outside, the mall echoed. In here, sound simply died.
Beds appeared.
The mattress section.
Twenty beds arranged beneath fluorescent fixtures.
Every bed was made.
White sheets. White pillows. A skin of dust over everything.
A skeleton lay beneath the covers of one.
Only its skull showed.
Ellis stopped.
“Think the mattress worked?”
Mara looked at him.
“Don't.”
“He seems comfortable.”
“Ellis.”
“I'm coping.”
“Cope quietly.”
They continued.
A sign hung overhead.
YOU DESERVE A BETTER NIGHT'S SLEEP.
Another skeleton sat in a recliner.
“Don't,” Mara said.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I absolutely was.”
The store changed.
Furniture became children's clothing.
Children's clothing became kitchenware.
Kitchenware became men's suits.
Then furniture again.
Mara stopped.
Ellis almost hit her.
“What?”
“We passed this.”
“No.”
She pointed.
The blue recliner. The skeleton.
Ellis stared.
“Different skeleton.”
“Same recliner.”
“Maybe he has a brother.”
Mara walked to the chair.
On the floor beside it lay an empty soup can.
She had kicked that can earlier.
Tomato.
Expiration date: 2029.
They had walked straight for seven minutes.
Yet here they were.
Ellis stared behind them.
The corridor stretched away.
Perfectly, impossibly straight.
“That isn't possible.”
“Neither is the third floor.”
“There isn't a third floor.”
“I'm beginning to admire your commitment.”
A fluorescent light flickered overhead.
Then the next, and the next, lights waking one by one deeper in the store.
Click.
Click.
Click.
They formed a path leading left.
Ellis stared.
“No chance.”
“Finally something we agree on.”
They went right.
Right led to the arcade.
Mara stopped at the entrance.
“No.”
Ellis looked behind them.
The fluorescent lights continued approaching.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Arcade.”
“No.”
“Lights.”
“No.”
“Those are the options.”
“I reject the premise.”
Click.
Closer.
Mara opened the arcade door.
Electronic music exploded around them.
Both jumped.
Half the machines were running.
A maze game chased colored creatures across a screen.
A racing cabinet played its demo.
Purple light glowed inside a claw machine filled with plush animals turned gray by dust.
A carousel horse rocked slowly.
Up. Down. Up again.
Mara stared.
“That's new.”
“You've been here?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“I decided not to come back.”
“Strong review.”
They moved.
The machines spoke around them.
PLAYER ONE.
READY?
INSERT COIN.
CONTINUE?
Their reflections moved across dark screens.
Sometimes half a second late.
Mara didn't mention that.
A child's rocket ride suddenly activated.
“READY FOR BLASTOFF!”
Mara shot it.
Sparks erupted.
The rocket stopped.
Ellis stared.
“You murdered a spaceship.”
“It startled me.”
“You have terrible conflict-resolution skills.”
“Says the man who chased me through a department store with a rifle.”
“Fair.”
Every machine went dark.
All at once. Mara froze.
Ellis whispered, “I preferred them on.”
“So did I.”
Behind them—
Scrape.
Metal dragging across tile.
Scrape.
Ellis turned.
Nothing.
Scrape.
Closer.
They ran.
Past ball games.
Past racing cabinets.
Past an electronic basketball game whose scoreboard suddenly flashed:
2 PLAYERS
“Don't look!” Mara yelled.
“I looked!”
“Why?”
“You told me not to!”
A machine crashed behind them.
Ellis shouted.
Mara turned.
He was down.
A change machine had toppled across his leg.
He pushed.
It didn't move.
“Go!”
Mara looked at the exit.
Fifteen yards.
Behind her—
Scrape.
“Go!”
Mara ran back.
“Don't misunderstand this.”
“What?”
“I'm saving the antibiotics.”
“Of course.”
She grabbed the machine.
“Lift!”
They heaved.
Ellis pulled free.
The scraping grew louder.
Something emerged from the darkness.
A maintenance cart.
Nobody was driving it. It rolled slowly, one wheel squeaking.
Ellis stared.
Mara stared.
The cart bumped into a game cabinet.
It stopped. Its horn honked once.
Mara shot it.
Ellis grabbed her arm.
“Stop shooting appliances!”
They ran.
The west loading dock gate was down.
Of course it was.
Ellis kicked it.
Nothing.
Mara kicked it.
Nothing.
He looked at her.
“Feel better?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
The ceiling groaned.
Closer now. Dust sifted from the ceiling.
Mara saw the forklift.
Ellis followed her gaze.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because every machine you interact with becomes violent.”
“That's unfair.”
“You shot Santa.”
“He was collateral damage.”
They climbed aboard.
Ellis turned the key.
Nothing.
Mara opened the battery compartment.
Corrosion covered the terminals.
She grabbed two cables.
“You know what you're doing?” Ellis asked.
“Absolutely.”
“You're lying.”
“Absolutely.”
She touched them.
A spark jumped. The forklift coughed, shuddered, and started.
Ellis stared.
“Marry me.”
“Drive.”
He rammed the gate.
BANG.
Again.
BANG.
Metal bent.
Above them something enormous cracked.
“Again!”
Ellis reversed.
Floored it.
The forklift slammed forward.
The gate tore free.
Sunlight exploded through.
Real sunlight—ugly, hot, beautiful.
They crashed into the parking lot as the west side of Meridian Mall began collapsing behind them.
Concrete thundered.
Windows burst.
Walls folded.
Dust rolled across acres of asphalt.
They jumped from the forklift and ran.
Behind them, the giant red letters spelling MERIDIAN MALL fell one by one.
M.
E.
R.
I.
D.
I.
A.
N.
Then—
M.
A.
L.
The final L remained.
Crooked.
Ellis stared.
“Accurate.”
Mara laughed.
She couldn't help it.
She sat on the hood of an abandoned sedan.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Wind moved through weeds growing from cracked asphalt.
Real wind. No music, no announcements, no hum.
Ellis sat beside her.
Mara opened the duffel.
Four cans of peaches.
Iodine.
Ammunition.
Protein bars.
Antibiotics.
She took out a bottle.
Tossed it to him.
He caught it.
“Really?”
“Your hand looks disgusting.”
“That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.”
“You have water.”
He glanced at her.
“How do you know?”
“Behind the old burger stand.”
His expression changed.
“You knew?”
“For weeks.”
“You could've stolen it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
Mara shrugged.
“Couldn't carry all of it.”
Ellis laughed.
“You have food.”
“You have water.”
“I have batteries.”
“I have ammunition.”
“I have a radio.”
Mara turned.
“A working radio?”
“Mostly.”
“You never said that.”
“You never stopped shooting long enough.”
“You shot first.”
“You stole my beans.”
“February.”
“I loved those beans.”
“Let them go.”
“Never.”
Mara extended her hand.
Ellis looked at it.
“What's this?”
“Resource agreement.”
“Partnership?”
“Don't make it sentimental.”
“Fifty-fifty?”
“Sixty-forty.”
“Why?”
“I have antibiotics.”
“I have water.”
“Fifty-five, forty-five.”
“Mara.”
“Fine.”
He took her hand.
“Fifty-fifty.”
They shook.
Behind them, the final L detached from the mall.
It fell.
Slowly, almost gracefully.
It struck the pavement with a crash that rolled across the empty world.
Neither flinched.
Ellis stood.
“So where now?”
Mara looked west.
The highway disappeared beneath weeds and rusted cars.
Beyond it were neighborhoods.
Warehouses.
Schools.
Churches.
Probably another mall, if their luck held.
She stood.
“Anywhere without a food court.”
“Deal.”
They started walking.
After twenty yards, Ellis stopped.
Mara turned.
“What?”
He was staring behind her.
At Meridian Mall.
Most of the west wing had collapsed.
Dust rose from the ruins.
Broken windows stared into daylight.
“What?” Mara asked again.
Ellis pointed.
On the third floor, one window remained intact.
Behind the glass stood the mannequin in the yellow dress.
Mara stared at it.
The distance was wrong. So was the angle. Nothing about the sight made sense.
Ellis whispered, “You said there wasn't a third floor.”
Mara backed away.
“No.”
“You specifically—”
“Nope.”
“Is that—”
“We're leaving.”
The mannequin remained behind the glass.
Watching.
Ellis hurried after her.
“Mara.”
“No.”
“Was that mannequin—”
“No.”
“The yellow one?”
“Ellis.”
“Because I swear—”
“Let it have the mall.”
They walked faster.
Behind them, deep inside Meridian, something clicked.
A speaker.
Static drifted from the ruins.
Then the woman's voice.
Bright, patient, professional.
“Thank you for shopping at Meridian Mall.”
Mara and Ellis stopped.
The parking lot went still.
“Please visit us again soon.”
They looked at each other.
Ellis adjusted his backpack.
“Run?”
“Run.”
They ran.
Behind them, Meridian Mall hummed.
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