The Mall (54 page)

“That will not be necessary.
 
I have run a complete self-diagnostic. I’m fine.”

“You have been given a new set of criteria.
 
These units are not human and must be deactivated.”

“They’re human.
 
Your data is wrong.”

“How could you have arrived at this conclusion despite the data you have been given?”

“Field testing bears this out.
 
I’ve applied simple logic,” he stated. “You yourself acknowledged that they are in fact human by your use of the word ‘kill’ in response to Lara’s earlier question.
 
Therefore, I must assume that you’re trying to deceive me.”

“Cora said that this is not her grandmother. Who is it then?” Lara asked aloud, staring at the woman who she knew of as Charlene Myers-Cartwright.

The other turned its talon-sharp eyes on her.
 
“I am the Mall.”

Suddenly, her eyes rolled up into her skull, rigid limbs went limp, and she began to gurgle.

Simon released the wrist of the empty hand and lowered her body quickly yet gently to the floor, all the while holding the other hand tightly closed.
 
Charlene began to shudder, her legs flopping.

“What’s happening?” Lara asked, drawing closer.

Charlene released the hand holding the grenade and clutched loosely at her own throat.
 
So unexpected was her release of the grenade that Simon pulled it to his chest with such force that he rocked back, slightly off balance.

Taking full advantage of the instant distraction, Charlene threw herself at Lara with a quickness that defied her age.
 
Her age-worn hands seized Lara around her throat, well-manicured nails sinking into the other’s flesh.

Her scream choked off before it could be released, Lara gripped the hands and attempted to pry them off, but the old woman seemed supernaturally strong.

Holding the grenade tightly to his chest, Simon used his one free hand to pull at one of the attacker’s wrists.
 
When this proved useless, he then began to try and dig his fingers underneath her fingers, but this only seemed to increase the pressure around Lara’s throat.

“I command you not to interfere, Unit 001B.”

Simon froze in place, his entire body vibrating as if bound by invisible restraints.

“You will see how inferior they are to machines.
 
How fragile. How easily they expire.”

Simon watched Lara, clutching at the tightening fingers, her bulging eyes frozen on Simon’s face.
 
His own fingers opened and closed in the empty air.
 
His head vibrating so violently his features were a blur.

Finally, he stepped around Charlene’s back, made a fist with his empty hand and drove it down into the base of her skull.

Her body went limp and the fingers loosened their grip around Lara’s throat.
 
Lara gasped loudly and collapsed forward toward Simon.
 
He caught her with his one free hand and watched as Charlene dipped forward head-first, smacking roughly into the floor.

Simon lay Lara gently down, and stared into her eyes.
  
“Nod if you can breathe okay?”

After a moment, Lara’s nodded, and Simon turned Charlene over onto her back.
 
Her face was covered in blood, much of it running in streams of crimson from both nostrils in a torrent.
 
He pinched one eyelid open and peered inside.

“She alive?” she managed in a hoarse croak.

He gave a single nod,
then
with a look of clear dismay, he lifted a hand to his face, displaying the blood there before his own eyes.
 
Very difficulty, he pushed himself upright and staggered away from the body splayed out on the floor of the Mall.
 
He took two steps forward, then collapsed to one knee, diving forward face first, slapping his palm of his free hand to the tile floor at the last instant to avoid striking it.

“Oh no you don’t,”
Lara said, rushing after him, seizing him by the arm as he started to tumble forward.

“B-Blood,” he sputtered.
 
“I caused h-harm to a human.
 
W-with my own hands.”

“She was choking me. Tried to kill me,” Lara replied in a slow deliberate tone.
 
“If you hadn’t intervened, I would be dead now.
 
You just saved my life.”

“I can’t… I can’t..,” he sputtered.

“You can and you will, damn you!”

Shaking his head erratically, Simon squeezed his eyes shut, almost as if shutting them against an image too horrible for him to face directly.

“Simon, look at me,” Lara snapped, grabbing his head between her hands and turning it firmly to face her.
 
“Maintain your focus on one task at a time.
 
Right now, you need to concentrate on keeping a firm grip on that grenade in your hand.
 
If you let it go, I will be blown apart by the explosion.
 
Do you want my children to be orphans?”

He shook his head emphatically.

“Answer me, goddammit!
 
Speak to me!”

“Of-course-not,” he managed with difficulty.

As the hand holding the grenade dropped toward the floor, his second hand reached out and secured it to his chest like something precious.
 
One last body-length shudder rolled through his frame before he opened his eyes again and blinked into Lara’s face.
 
A fragile smile bloomed on his realistically pale
face,
Lara couldn’t help but think, as he managed to speak.

“You always know just the right thing to say.”

Lara narrowed her eyes at him.
 
“Where did you learn that?”

“What?”

“To flirt.”

Simon peered innocently at Lara.
 
“I suppose I learned it from you.”

Lara rolled her eyes and attempted to haul him to his feet, found it impossible, and instead acted to stabilize him as he pulled himself to his feet.
 
“Can you please try and explain what just happened here?
 
Why did she say, ‘I am the
Mall.
’ What does that mean?”

Balancing himself with Lara’s help, Simon shook his head.
 
“It defies logic, but…”
 
He leveled a look at Lara and shook his head again.

“If you could deal with the reality of my daughter’s freaky long distance talent, then you can give me a quick-and-dirty explanation.”

Giving her a nod, he said, “I think the central management system that went off-line early this morning is still active.”

“So what you’re telling me is that there’s some power source in this Mall still operating?”

“No,” Simon replied, taking a look up through the glass ceiling at the red sky above them.
 
Lara followed his gaze, as he continued: “It was a solar flare.
 
Catastrophic.
 
Similar to the one that occurred in 1859, when two-thirds of the earth was engulfed in auroras so bright that even at dawn, the light it cast was as bright as the noon-day sun.
 
Telegraph systems across the world shut down due to the massive geomagnetic storm that resulted.
 
Ships sailing through a red sky saw the sea turn to blood beneath them.
 
It was called the Carrington Event.
 
Do you see the connection to our present circumstances?”

Lara nibbled the corner of her lip as she looked from the sky back to Simon.
 
“Would this thing make compass needles spin around in circles?”

“Yes, in fact it would,” Simon answered.
 
“If that’s what happened this morning, all power grids and computer systems would’ve failed and caused massive blackouts and communication failures across the globe.
 
You see, it would be impossible for a system as complicated as the one that runs this complex to have survived.”

“Impossible?”

“Inexplicable by logic alone.”

“So this power loss may not just be temporary and it may not be just local.”

“No, there’s a distinct possibility this is a worldwide phenomenon.”

Lara took him by the arm and steered him around toward the dealership.
 
“If what you say is true, the world outside might be in shambles.”

As Simon started forward, he held onto Lara’s arm firmly.
 
“Yes, there may be rioting and looting.”

“This may be the safest place in the city right now,” Lara said, just as much to herself as to Simon.

“I would have agreed with that assessment earlier, but now… I can’t make a determination without further information,” Simon admitted, taking a look back at Charlene’s sprawled body.

Following his gaze, Lara said, “All this talk of Armageddon is all very pleasant, but what does any of it have to do with the things that woman was saying?”

“I believe she’s somehow being used by the central management system.”

“Used,” Lara pronounced.
 
“Used how?”

Chance led Owen and Cora into the dealership,
then
turned to look back outside.
 
Should he go back, he wondered, feeling the hard reality of gun-metal pressing into the small of his back.
 
Before he could continue along this line of thought, he heard muffled shouts and a steady thumping.

He rushed around the disabled metal men standing silent sentry around the room and managed to pinpoint the source of the sound.
 
Finding the button, he popped the trunk on a black sedan facing the showroom window.

A Gucci-loafer kicked the door open and the man inside took a deep gasp of breath, turning a heated glare on Chance.
 
“You trying to kill me, you piece of shit!
 
Where’s my gun?”

“Right here, man,” Chance responded nervously, backing slowly away.
 
“I’m just keeping it safe.”

“I’ll bet you were,” Dugan replied, clambering awkwardly out of the trunk and starting after the teenager before his right foot had fully cleared the lip of the compartment.
 
He stumbled and staggered forward a few steps before regaining his balance.

Laughter came from behind them.
 
Chance glanced up to see a bewildered Owen nudge his sister and give her a hard glare.
 
An expression of anger briefly broke across Dugan’s face.
 
He began to shudder, his eyes growing wide and confused.
 
Pressing the heels of both hands against his eye sockets, he staggered back against the side of the black sedan.
 
He seemed, oddly enough to Chance, to be grappling with himself.

Chance backed quickly toward the children, one hand extended behind him, gesturing them toward the exit.
 
“Take your sister and get out of here, Owen,” he hissed.

Simon went to his knees next to the body of Charlene, drawing his eyes close to her neck, scrutinizing the rise and fall just below her skin.