Chapter 9
Westfield
The mall loomed over them, foreboding and dark in the rapidly fading light. They skittered inside like rats into a hole, the rain now pouring down towards the earth. Inside it was silent, no sounds of life trickling back to them once they had dashed through the doors. They were soaked, and water pooled at their feet as they surveyed the area. The power was out, and leering posters and advertisements twisted all around them, eyes harsh and threatening. It was too risky to use a flashlight. Lightning cracked over the skylight, and the area around them was thrown into stark relief. Worn tile floor surrounded them, with dusty and decrepit shops lining the long walkway. There were several intersections, and Ellie assumed the rest of the mall was as loaded with stores as what she could see.
She walked several steps deeper inside, and a howl of wind rushed through the opened door, careening past Ellie and blowing her hair about. Marcus wrestled it shut, and the crash of rain was muffled to a cascade of thuds on the roof above. Their steps seemed to echo around them, the drops of water falling off their bodies crashing against the floor below. The noises were oppressive. Ellie turned to him. Her anxiety flared as she scanned the area behind him, with lightning flashing through the glass above the entrance.
"This place gives me the creeps."
He walked up to her, shrugging his shoulders and brushing water out of his hair.
"It's not so bad Ell."
A soft clank of metal echoed somewhere else in the mall, as something, somewhere was tipped over. A frigid draft wafted down the mall, and the stink of dust and disuse filled their nostrils. Marcus sniffed, and ran a hand across his tightly drawn lips.
"Fuck, never mind. Let's just find somewhere safe and preferably not so damn cold."
They moved forwards cautiously, taking a right and creeping down the corridor. They passed empty stores, rusted shelves and mildewed carpets still desperately trying to exude an air of middle-class sensibility. The image was macabre and haunting, and Ellie shivered both from the cold and from the quiet fear that had settled into some part of her brain. A huge department store opened up to their right, and she could see beds and twisted mannequins in the darkness. She pulled Marcus in, pushing him into a corner and dropping her voice to a whisper.
"Maybe we can find some blankets to help keep us warm. You go left, I'll go right. Be back here in ten."
She pushed away from him and he nodded in the gloom, silent moving past her and heading into the left side of the store.
She squinted in the darkness, and proceeded forwards. Plastic figures jumped out at her from the darkness, ragged designer clothes two decades old still clinging to their ruined frames. They seemed to sway as she walked forwards, hate and malice flickering in their empty, painted eyes at her intrusion. Emotions bubbled up inside her and she felt out-of-place and alone, an uninvited guest in the midst of a jeering crowd. The dead did not want their rest disturbed. She walked towards a mannequin, reaching a hand out to poke it in the forehead with a trembling finger. It moved, and its rusted base rocked and groaned at the disturbance. It settled, glaring at her, and she let another shiver creep through her body, quickly shuffling past the plastic facsimile of life, dropping her eyes in silent apology.
Her steeps softened as she walked onto worn down carpet. Tattered beds surrounded her, and in the darkness she could see a toppled shelf, dozens of thin plastic boxes reflecting the miniscule light. She bent down, brushing the dust off their labels and reading them. Bed sheets, dozens of colors and sizes. She found it ridiculous - had people before the outbreak really been given this much choice in something as unimportant as the color of their blankets? She bundled a few in her arms, moving back towards the entrance to wait for Marcus.
After a little while of waiting he reappeared, and motioned her to follow him. He walked into the shadows, and she followed, past rows and rows of ransacked shelves and cloths racks. They reached a broken down escalator, and he ascended with Ellie in tow. More mannequins surrounded them, arrayed in a semicircle around the escalator, all facing a particularly misshapen one in some silent parody of a ritual. Whoever had been here before certainly had a warped sense of humor. They brushed past the plastic blockade, and he led her to a smaller hallway at the back of the store. Tiny rooms branched off from the hall, each one no more than six or seven feet across, with a large, broken mirror attached to their walls. The store was dead silent, even the pouring rain and thunder above incapable of being heard. He pulled her into one of the rooms and shut the door.
"I think this is about as safe as it gets. It'll be our home for the night."
She nodded, and set down the bundles of sheets in her arms. She pulled one out, folding it again and again until it resembled a long pillow. She pulled another out and tossed it to the floor, spreading it out to form a satin groundsheet. A few more sheets as blankets and the improvised bed was complete. They dropped their gear in the corner, and they huddled close to each other as they shared a can of uncooked beans. Neither could find their voice, the silence so deafening it seemed sacrilegious to talk. Without a word Ellie rested her head against his shoulder, and he pulled her against him, turning to kiss her forehead as she breathed him in. They sat pressed together for what seemed like a lifetime, soaking in the silence and each other, before he carefully turned his head to see her asleep against him. He gently positioned her so she was lying in the 'bed', letting her head sink into the pillow as he pulled the blankets around her form. She rolled on her side and let out a quiet sigh, curling into a small ball.
Despite the situation and the oppressive darkness he couldn't help but smile down at her. He moved his hand, and gently brushed a lock of hair off her shut eyes. His mind began to wander. Where would life take her? Would she be safe? Would he be a part of it? All those questions seemed to swirl around his mind like snow flurries, and he fished for answers. If the third part was true then he would make damn sure the first two were. She deserved all the happiness she could get. And if it wasn't, he hoped she would find it elsewhere.
He had never realized how lonely he truly was until he met her. All the pain in her eyes when she had seen his bite mark flashed back, and his blood had run cold because it was as if he was looking in a mirror. They had been caught in a slow orbit before either of them had even realized it. He saw how desperately she wanted to help him. She was searching for her own kind of forgiveness. He intended to give it to her.
Ellie woke up, the gloom slightly mitigated by thin shafts of grey light poking from underneath the closed dressing-room door. She felt an odd weight against the back of her head, and she turned slightly to see Marcus's hand lightly pressed against her. He was asleep with his back against the wall and his head leaning against the rifle he clutched in his other hand. Even with the shallow breaths of someone deep asleep exhaustion seemed to flood his face, and she gently pushed herself up, shivering at the chill in the air once she was free of the covers.
She peeled his fingers off the rifle, taking it and leaning it against the chipped wall. With a cautious tenderness she guided him down to the floor. It was still early - she could give him another hour or so of sleep. Ellie made to stand up and stretch her stiff legs, but he rolled over, his head falling into her lap as he curled himself to her leg. She paused, looking down at his sleeping figure. He clung to her like a man holding on for dear life, one arm slung tightly around her, the other with his fingers half curled into her frayed pocket. It seemed absurd that someone who had killed so many could seem so feeble in their sleep. A curious thought pushed itself to the front of her mind. Was that what she looked like when she slept?
She leaned back, against the wall, running her fingers though his hair as he slept, feeling him occasionally twitch and grasp tighter as his body reacted to some dream. She reached over and draped a blanket across him, jerking back in surprise as he shuddered and twitched. It was probably a nightmare. He got them worse than she did. They had made a promise to each other that if one was having a nightmare the other had to wake them up. A promise is a promise Ellie thought, as she gently reached out a hand to stir him.
The world seemed to spin around him as he woke up. A groggy, hazy filter made the walls swim and pulse as his nightmare dropped away, and a familiar face seem foreign and twisted as it hovered above him. A drop of panic forced his hand to clench tighter against whatever he was holding, and he sat up, pushing into the corner of the room as he looked through blurry eyes at Ellie. His memories trickled back into him, and Marcus relaxed, his muscles unclenching as he took a deep breath. Ellie scooted to her knees, taking his hands in hers as she gently spoke to him.
"Hey, hey it's alright. It's okay. It was just a dream." Her voice was soft and soothing, a tone she would have considered impossible for her to have before she met him.
He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her back and pushing his face into her neck. She was caught off guard – he was usually stoic about bad dreams, only staying awake long enough to grumble about it before falling back asleep. This must have been a bad one.
Ellie wrapped an arm around his neck, letting her fingers gently scratch up the back of his head as he held her. She whispered more things in his ear, as he seemed to try and melt into her. She felt the cold pierce him and he shivered against her. She carefully twisted, grasping the covers and pulling them around the both of them. They sat pressed against each other for another lifetime, his breath steady and warm against her skin. She continued to trail her fingers through his hair, and he gently kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her. She pulled away, framing his face with her hands. The last wisps of sleep left his eyes and he gave a small smile. He spoke quietly, his voice both faltering and earnest.
"Morning sunshine. What time is it?"
There was no mention of any nightmare.
She shrugged her shoulders, pushing back from him and standing up. Her legs were stiff, and the muscles stretched and ached.
"You got me. Let's find out."
Ellie cracked the door open as he stood up, picked his rifle from off the wall and moving to look past her shoulder. Grey light filtered through, bouncing off the whitewashed walls of the hallway. They walked down the ruined corridor, Marcus carefully scanning the store before walking out. It was early morning, and the silence from last night carried over. Not a thing seemed to stir. Ellie began to walk around, massaging her legs and stretching her arms. It was warmer out of the cramped dressing room, if only slightly. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening.
"Oh shit…"
She saw the semicircle of mannequins from the night before, all facing what she had thought was just one more fake body. It was the remains of some luckless soul, the legs hacked off, the stomach split open and the body wrapped tightly in plastic to keep the stench out. It was rammed onto an iron pole, crudely attached to a base. Its mouth hung open beneath the translucent covering, a final, endless scream seeming to echo from their cracked and decayed lips. The Firefly symbol had been carved into its forehead.
She looked at the mannequins holding their vigil. Nailed to the forehead of each one was a scrap of paper, each piece spelling out a different word.
We. Showed. Her. The. Light.
Marcus walked up behind her, and gently took her by the shoulders. He rubbed them, his thumbs pushing against her shoulder blades.
"Those were the people you were planning on dying for? Fuck Ellie, talk about poor life choices."
She shook her head, disappearing back into the dressing room, before reappearing with their gear. She tossed his pack to him as she shouldered her backpack.
"Let's get out of this place."
He hefted his pack up, and motioned for her to lead the way. She unbundled her hunting rifle and walked down the broken escalator, checking the area for any signs of life. What she could see was deserted. She walked towards the exit into the mall, hearing Marcus trail after her. The mannequins that had looked so threatening before now were husks, ashen and pathetic. She brushed past them, and reached the edge of the store, looking left and right before stepping out into the mall. A draft still blew down the corridor and her back arched in a shiver. Marcus walked past her, and headed right. The stores were burnt out, looted, and ruined. He stopped suddenly, and she bumped into him. He looked at her over his shoulder.
"Hey, didn't you say something about liking video games or whatever their called?"
She nodded, and he pointed at a store, the broken outlines of arcade cabinets lining its walls.
He walked towards it, throwing her a look back at her.
"Let's have a peak."
She shrugged and followed, stopping in front of the first machine, studying its worn face. He proceeded deeper into the store. Shattered consoles drifted past him, and he headed into the gloom of the back. One machine had a rough cover tossed over it, and he pulled it off, coughing in the dust. The sheet had helped it fare a little better. It was a fighting game. The name was faded off except for the last few letters – ombat - though there was an image on the side of the machine resembling a horse, or an odd lizard. Hadn't she said something about a fighting game? He looked back towards the front of the store.
"Hey Ell, get over here!"
She heard him call, and tore her gaze away from the machine she had been studying. She walked back to him, raising her eyebrows.
"You rang?"
He pointed at the machine.
"This the game you were talking about?"
She peered at it, before stepping back and shaking her head.
"Nah. It looks cool though."
His shoulders sagged slightly, and she grinned at him and patted him on the head.
"Hey, it's the thought that counts."
He chuckled, and she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. The shattered games loomed over them, and they turned around and headed out, continuing down the mall.
"Can you believe this place used to be packed with people?" She wondered out loud. "I mean really, just think about it. So many people, just living their own lives, not worrying everyday about getting shot or bitten…what a world. They must have been so peaceful."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Ellie anyone over thirty-five used to be one of these people living life here. You think you can call them peaceful anymore?"
She sighed, and looked down at the floor as they walked, seeing her shoes glide over the checkerboard pattern.
"Well what's that mean for us if we ever find peace?"
"I hope it means we can actually appreciate it this time."
She chewed her cheek, slipping deep in thought, and walked a little faster to be next to him. He shifted his rifle into his left hand, and wrapped his right arm around her. Their steps faintly echoed down around them. He looked to his left and his eyes widened.
"Holy shit."
She craned her neck to look past him, and saw another dilapidated store filled with mannequins. They were dressed in a very different kind of designer clothing. They stopped to gawk at the display. Ellie blushed slightly, and shook her head.
"People actually used to wear that sort of thing?"
Marcus laughed, "I don't think they're made for men Ell."
She walked towards the store, and he followed. She walked up to a mannequin, reaching out and running the fabric of what it was wearing between her fingers.
"Fuck it's so thin. And you can see right through it!"
Marcus cleared his throat.
"I…I think that's the point."
"What the hell does that do for anybody?"
He looked down, chuckling.
"Oh, it does stuff Ellie. Think about it."
She shook her head, stepping back to look the figure up and down.
"I'd look ridiculous in that."
Marcus laughed, looking at the mannequin, then at her.
"Ridiculous? Not the word I'd use actually."
She shot him a glance, and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
"Hey, just telling the truth. Let's uh…get out of here. We've got to get moving."
He began to walk away, and looked back a few seconds later to see her take a step away from the shop. The mannequin swayed as she walked away, the plastic glinting in the shallow light. An exit was nearby. Light bled through the glass, and they could see the ever-present grey clouds blanketing the sky. Marcus pushed the door open, and a cold wind cut into them. Ellie readied her rifle, and jogged outside to the nearest bit of cover.
