Part 28 (1/2)

The sign was across the side corridor and four storefronts farther east.

”We used to come down through the store at the end there ...” A quick jerk of Kris' head, the motion felt rather than seen they were so close together, indicated the corridor. ”. . . another big one, like ours, but lately it's been locked at night. Good thing we didn't f.u.c.kin' risk it.”

”Because it's night.”

The elfin captain patted Diana lightly on one cheek. ”Can't put nothing past you Keepers.”

Diana felt her face heat up under its mask of lipstick. The store locked at night could only mean reality had found another foothold, but she decided not to mention that at the risk of being thought obvious as well as dense. She watched as Kris dropped to her belly and inched forward toward the corridor along the angle of floor and wall. Was she supposed to follow?

Apparently not.

Just as she began to seriously consider dropping to her knees, Kris began to back up. Feet under her, into a crouch, standing . . . warm breath against Diana's ear. She clenched her hands to keep from s.h.i.+vering.

”It's clear. Move fast, don't make any noise, and try to look as little like a person as you can.”

”What?”

”If they see you, you want to leave some doubt about what they're seeing.”

That made sense. Although ”look as little like a person as you can” didn't. Not in any useful sort of a way.

”All right. Let's . . .”

shunk kree, shunk kree.

Kris slammed back against her as a line of light split the concourse.

He was coming from the west. From the same direction they had. He'd been behind them the whole time.

shunk kree, shunk kree.

Unable to use the possibilities, even in the minimal way she had in the original mall, Diana was left feeling like she imagined Bystanders must feel all the time. Helpless. Angry. Vaguely pathetic. How did they manage? Kris' back pressed hard against her, warm and comfortingly solid. It helped. The cold gla.s.s and dark store behind her didn't.

Shoe store, she reminded herself as the light swept through the shadows under the stairs. What could possibly come out of a shoe store.

Actually, she could think of a few things.

None of them good.

All of them the last thing she should be thinking about right now.

skunk kree, shunk kree.

She was listening so hard to the sound of the security guard shuffling down the concourse that she didn't hear the music start inside the shoe store. By the time she noticed, it had already reached the chorus.

These boots are made for walking . . .

And over the faint, tinny music, another sound. Heels. Rhythmically hitting cheap carpet.