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The girl hits the floor and rolls. Blood trail behind her. The thing that follows her through the door is all teeth and wet breathing.
I don't think. The nearest shelf rack tips itself. Three hundred pounds of rusted metal slams down on the creature's back. It screams. High and sharp and wrong. The girl's already up, knife in one hand, the other pressed to her ribs. She's not looking at the monster. She's looking at the shelf. At me.
"Who did that?"
I try the intercom. Static first, then my voice cracks through. "You're bleeding."
She spins. Knife up. "Where are you?"
"Everywhere. Don't move, that thing's not dead."
It isn't. The creature drags itself forward. Six legs. No eyes. A mouth that splits its whole front end. The shelf didn't kill it. It just made it mad.
I pull. The loading dock gate drops behind her. The emergency shutters slam over the busted front doors. She flinches at every sound. Her knuckles are white on the knife handle.
"Let me out."
"You'll die out there."
"I'll die in here." She backs toward the shuttered entrance. Her boot crunches on broken glass. "Open it. Now."
The creature shrieks. It shakes off the shelf. I don't have anything heavy left on this side of the atrium. Mallow's already bolting toward it. Brave and stupid and seven pounds.
"No. Stay."
Mallow doesn't listen. He leaps. Tiny claws sink into the soft part under the creature's jaw. It thrashes. Mallow holds on. The girl stares.
"What is that?"
"Mine." I kill the auxiliary lights. Only the emergency strips stay on. Red glow. Shadows everywhere. The creature can't see but it can smell. It charges her. She moves. Fast. Knife flashes. She opens a line across its side. It doesn't slow.
I'm out of options. I pull the last bit of power I've got left. The kind I've been saving because using it means I might not wake up tomorrow. The atrium floor splits. A crack runs right under the creature's center mass. It stumbles. The girl doesn't wait. She drives the knife into the soft spot behind its skull. Once. Twice. Three times. It stops moving.
She yanks the blade free. Breath coming hard. Blood on her hands. Some of it hers.
"Good." My voice barely makes it through the speaker. Everything's dim. I'm slipping. "You're safe now."
"Safe?" She turns. Eyes scanning the dark. "You locked me in."
"You were dying."
"I'm still dying." She pulls her hand away from her ribs. It's soaked. The fabric under her jacket is torn. I can see bone white through the red. She sways. Catches herself on a column. "Open the door."
"You won't make it ten feet."
"Not your problem."
"It is if you die in my lobby."
She laughs. It's bitter. Wet. "Your lobby. Right. You own this dump?"
"Something like that."
Mallow trots over. Sniffs her boot. She looks down at him. He chitters. It's the sound he makes when he wants someone to follow him. She doesn't move.
"I need out."
"You need a med kit."
"I need out."
"There's a supply closet. Third floor. It's got—"
"I don't care what it's got." She pushes off the column. Takes two steps. Her leg buckles. I catch her with a bench. It slides across the tile and stops right under her. She drops onto it. Hard. The knife never leaves her hand. "Stop doing that."
"You're bleeding out."
"And you're a ghost in a dead mall. We've both got problems."
I push the rest of my power into the old grid. The service elevator grinds to life. It's slow. Loud. The doors open. Mallow hops in and waits.
"That goes up to the med kit."
She looks at the elevator. At Mallow. At the shuttered entrance. She's doing the math. I can see it. She's weighing how much time she has. How much blood she can lose. How far she'll get if she makes me open the doors.
"If I go up there, you let me leave after."
"If you go up there, you live long enough to leave."
"Not the same thing."
"Close enough."
She stands. Slow. One hand still pressed to her side. She walks to the elevator. Steps in. Mallow chitters again. She stares down at him.
"If you bite me, I'm making soup."
The doors close. I guide the elevator up. Every camera I've got tracks her. She leans against the wall. Eyes half-shut. The knife's still in her hand. She doesn't trust me. I don't blame her. I locked her in. I moved furniture. I cracked my own floor. From her side, I'm either haunted or automated or something worse.
The elevator stops. Doors open. She steps out into the old service hall. Mallow leads her left. The med kit's in the janitorial closet. The door's stuck. I can't open it. No power left for locks. She kicks it. Once. Twice. It bangs open. She finds the kit on the second shelf. Rips it open. Pulls out gauze, tape, a tube of something expired five years ago.
She shrugs her jacket off. Peels her shirt up. I should look away. I don't have eyes to look away with. The wound's deep. Claw marks. Four lines. She packs the gauze in. Her jaw locks. She doesn't make a sound. Tapes it down. Pulls her shirt back into place. The jacket goes back on. She tests her weight. It holds.
Mallow's sitting by her feet. She looks down at him.
"You gonna try and stop me too?"
He tilts his head. She snorts. Walks past him. Back to the elevator. I bring her down. The doors open. She steps into the atrium. The shutters are still closed. She stops in front of them.
"Open it."
I should. That was the deal. But I can feel it. The way the mall's warmer with her inside. The way the lights stopped flickering. She's human. She's alive. She's the first real thing that's walked in here in months. If she leaves, I'm alone. Just me and Mallow and a countdown to demolition.
"Please don't go."
She turns. Looks up at the nearest camera. "Why?"
"Because I need help."
"Everyone needs help. I can't afford it."
"I'm not asking you to pay."
"Everyone asks you to pay." Her voice is flat. Tired. "One way or another."
She's not wrong. I see it now. The way she holds herself. The way she looked at the door first, not the monster. She's running. Not from the creature. From something worse.
"What if I pay you?"
She goes still. "With what? Expired bandages and a dead mall?"
"With shelter. Safety. A place they won't find you."
I don't know who 'they' are. I'm guessing. But her expression shifts. Just a little. I'm close.
"You don't know what you're offering."
"Then tell me."
She looks at the shutters again. At the blood trail she left across the tile. At Mallow. He's fallen asleep by the column. His little sides go up and down. She exhales. Long and slow.
"One night."
"Deal."
"Then I'm gone."
"Okay."
She doesn't believe me. I don't believe her either. But for now, she stays. She walks over to the bench. Sits. Leans back. The knife goes in her lap. Her hand stays on it. Her eyes stay open.
I dim the lights a little. Give her space. My power's nearly gone. I'm running on fumes and spite. But I got her to stay. One night. That's more than I had an hour ago.
Her breathing evens out. She's not asleep. Just resting. I watch her through the cameras. There's something on her wrist. I zoom in. It's a mark. Black ink. Old style. It looks like a contract seal. The kind loan sharks and bounty guilds use when they want someone who can't run.
As I watch, it starts to glow.
Faint at first. Then brighter. Red lines trace through the black. She doesn't notice. She's too tired. But I see it. I know what it means.
Somewhere out there, someone just got a ping. They know where she is. They're coming. And I just promised her safety in a building I can barely keep standing.
The mark pulses once. Twice. Then it goes dark again.
I don't tell her. Not yet. She needs the rest. And I need time to figure out how to keep a promise I shouldn't have made.