Time pirate 6, p.5
Time Pirate 6, page 5
“And the Good Guys are on the way,” I replied. “I assume Ivan will call when they’re here and tell us where to meet them.”
“Did you tell him about the Volvo?”
“I did,” I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t believe I’ll have to buy another car.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t buy one just yet,” the Dutch woman replied. “It might be better to wait until people stop shooting at you.”
“Humph. Maybe I should get a bulletproof limo or something.” I lifted my eyebrow and gave the blonde a quizzical look.
“Oh, no,” she laughed, which made her gray eyes sparkle. “Not a limo. No one uses limos anymore unless they’re going to prom.”
“Fine,” I chuckled. “A bulletproof SUV it is.”
“Well, while we’re here,” she said as she looked around the food court. “We should probably try to blend in.”
“Don’t tell me you want to go shopping?” I protested.
“No, but I wouldn’t mind getting something to drink,” she said. “I’m actually thirsty. I feel like I’ve run a marathon.”
“The adrenaline is wearing off,” I noted as I looked around at the options. “Starbucks, DQ--”
“DQ,” she said quickly. “Let’s get an Orange Julius.”
We weaved across the busy food court toward the Dairy Queen. There was a line, though it wasn’t as long as the one at the Starbucks or the Panda Express. I tried not to appear anxious as we joined the line, but my eyes kept scanning the other people in the mall for anyone who didn’t fit. When I glanced at Flora, I noticed she was doing the same thing, and we both grinned at each other for a moment at how ridiculous it all seemed.
When we were just one spot away from the counter, though, I saw two men walk into the food court and look around. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I tugged on Flora’s sleeve and then nodded toward the men.
The guys looked like extras from a mafia movie, with angry scowls on their faces, heavy gold chains around their necks, and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ air that sent the other mall guests scurrying in the opposite direction. They studied the crowd intently, and when one of them turned to peer into the massage place, I spotted the telltale bulge of a gun under his jacket.
“Shit,” I muttered and looked for the quickest escape route that wouldn’t take us right past the pair.
“Escalators,” Flora whispered. “Just down there.”
She nodded slightly in the other direction, and I spotted the escalators to the second floor.
“Sir, are you ready to order?” the kid behind the counter asked.
“Uh, sorry,” I replied. “We forget to pick up that stuff…”
Flora and I darted away from the DQ and started to make our way toward the escalators. We kept our eyes forward, and though we wanted to start running, we kept our pace to a quick walk, like we were simply late for something but not running for our lives.
I didn’t even look back until I felt something change in the crowd. I couldn’t quite explain what it was, but when I looked back, I saw a security guard approaching the two men.
“No, no, no, no,” I muttered and started to jog.
“Sirs, there are no weapons allowed inside the mall!” the guard declared. “I’ve already--”
“We have no weapons,” one of the men grunted in a Russian accent.
“I can see your weapons,” the guard snapped as he pointed at one of the men’s jackets. “And so can the other guests.”
The other guests were already moving away from the scene, so at least we weren’t the only ones who were now running. The two Russians looked at each other, and then one drew his gun and shot the guard. It was all so fast that the guard never had time to react, and the people near the food court froze for a second like they weren’t sure what had really happened.
I counted two quick heartbeats, and then the scene started moving forward again. People screamed as they ran in every direction, the guard collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor, and the two Russians scowled at the people in their way as they started to plow through the food court.
We’d just reached the escalators along with a large group of other fleeing people, and it was clear we weren’t all going to fit. It also seemed insane to turn ourselves into an easy target now that the goons weren’t concerned about appearances, so I started to pull Flora toward a nearby exit.
“We see you, Frankie!” one of the Russians shouted.
“Crap,” I muttered and looked over my shoulder.
The pair were storming toward us like Terminators, and they’d both drawn their weapons, so the guns were now on full display as they swept through the crowd. People were still running in random directions, and the folks who’d tried to scramble up the escalator started to scream as they tried to climb over each other to the next floor.
I could see the exit just ahead, where another crowd of people were trying to push their way outside. There were just as many people trying to push their way inside, unaware of the armed gunmen, and the two groups created a traffic jam that didn’t look like it would be moving anytime soon.
“What should we do?” Flora panted as I pulled her behind a column.
A gunshot rang out again, and a planter just behind me cracked. A clod of dirt plopped onto the shiny floor, and the vaguely tropical-looking plant quivered in its pot.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” I said. “At least until the Good Guys get here.”
“I can’t believe they’re just shooting up the mall,” Flora said as another bullet buried itself into the column where we were hiding.
“Val must’ve promised them something big if they killed me,” I said.
“You’re assuming it’s Val and not one of Oleg’s other men,” she noted.
“Yeah, well, it’s a little more personal between us,” I muttered. “Come on.”
There was a row of kiosks just a few feet away, and if we could reach that, we might be able to duck into a store. Unfortunately, a lot of the stores were already slamming their doors shut, and I could see employees herding people into the back rooms.
I pulled Flora from our hiding spot, and we both hunched over as we sprinted toward the kiosks. We reached the first one just as one of the Russians fired, and a swiveling stand full of sunglasses shook like it was having a heart attack. One pair exploded in a fine plastic mist that sent bits of tortoiseshell-colored fragments across the atrium. I heard Flora gasp as little bits of plastic rained down on us, but she kept moving as we squeezed between the sunglasses place and a scented candle seller.
“Do you see them?” she asked as she took a quick peek around the edge of the kiosk.
“Not yet,” I replied.
Three more heartbeats passed, and then I heard another gunshot. But nothing near us exploded, so I wondered if they were simply hoping to drive us from our hiding spot.
“Get the fuck out of here, assholes!” someone shouted.
“What…?” Flora muttered.
“This can’t be good,” I said and leaned out a little further.
The two Russians had stopped, and the slightly taller one was looking at his shoulder as he poked it with his finger. Just to the right of them was a scrawny guy in cut-off shorts and a confederate flag baseball cap who’d pulled out his own handgun. Apparently, he’d shot the taller Russian, though the man looked more pissed off than in pain, especially when he pulled his hand away from his shoulder and stared at the blood on his fingers.
“We should get moving,” I said. “While they’re busy.”
Flora nodded, and we started to race along the line of kiosks as another round of gunfire erupted.
“Brophy!” a woman shouted. “You bastards!”
Another weapon joined the battle, and I assumed the woman was armed as well. When we reached the end of the kiosks, I looked back and saw that the guy in cut-offs was slouched against a garbage can. It looked like he’d taken at least one bullet to the arm and one to the leg, but he was still gripping his handgun and randomly firing shots in the general direction of the Russians.
A young woman with orange highlights in her hair and jeans that had to be at least one size too small was kneeling next to Brophy and firing off shots from a nine millimeter. The Russians had at least been forced to duck behind the information booth, though they popped up like demented moles every so often to return fire.
“Now where?” Flora asked. “The stores have all gone into lockdown.”
“The arcade’s still open,” I noted. “And it’s dark.”
“And probably filled with kids.”
“Would you rather try to hide in the kitchen place?”
Flora glanced in the direction of the home goods store, which was brightly lit and featured lots of open space with very few places to hide.
“The arcade,” she agreed.
There was a break in the shooting, but when I looked around the edge of the kiosk, I saw the woman was pulling another magazine from her purse. Brophy was still hanging in there, though he wasn’t holding the gun up anymore. During the break, another guy with a short military cut joined the action as he slid across the floor and bumped into the woman. She looked at him in surprise until he pulled out a handgun and grinned at her.
“Jesus,” I said and shook my head. “I thought DC had some tough gun laws. How are all these people walking around with guns?”
“They’re probably from Virginia,” Flora said.
One of the Russians popped up for a moment, and both the military guy and the woman opened fire.
“Let’s get away from this,” I said.
We started to ease out of our spot when I heard someone shout in Russian. I knew enough of the language to know one of the goons was shouting that we were moving, and Flora and I ducked just in time. A couple of scented candles exploded just above us, and soon we were breathing in the scents of cedar and apple pie.
“Put your guns down!” the guy with the military cut shouted.
That was met with two more bullets, but Flora and I kept moving while the woman and the military guy kept the Russians busy. We had to sprint the last few feet to the arcade, and Flora squealed when a bullet pinged off a display of crystal figurines. We were hit with more glass fragments, but we made it to the game place without any serious injuries.
The place was dark, and most of the space was actually taken up with the laser tag area. There was a teenager with headphones glued to an old video game, but there was no sign of any employees. We could hear people running around among the obstacles, and I realized the last group admitted to the laser tag game was still in there and apparently oblivious to the real-life drama playing out in the mall.
“Hey, kid,” I hissed.
The guy on the video game didn’t hear me, thanks to the headphones, so after Flora and I exchanged a quick look, we darted over and tapped him on the shoulder. Even that didn’t get his attention, and Flora had to grab the joystick and crash his car into a mountain before he even looked at us.
“What the hell did you do that for?” he demanded as he jerked his headphones off.
“There’s a shooter in the mall,” I explained.
As if on cue, there was another burst of gunfire from the food court.
“Oh, shit,” he said as his face paled in the flashing neon light. “I-I gotta get outta here.”
“We were going to look for a back door--” I started to explain.
“Whatever,” he said before he shoved past me and started to run toward the mall.
“Not that way!” Flora hissed as she tried to grab his arm.
“Don’t touch me!” he growled and then ran out into the mall.
“Should we follow him?” Flora asked.
“No,” I sighed and shook my head. “He’ll just be in more danger if he’s near us.”
We watched the kid until he ran toward one of the other wings and disappeared around the corner. No sound of gunshots followed him, so I figured he was safe enough for now.
“Finish him!” a voice suddenly bellowed over the speakers.
“Fuck you!” a squeaky male voice shouted.
There were more scurrying sounds from the laser tag game again, and Flora and I exchanged a quick look.
“Should we join the game?” Flora asked.
“Might as well,” I said. “If there’s a back door out of this place, that’s probably where it is.”
We followed the glowing arrows on the floor to the door of the game area. There was a podium there where another employee was probably supposed to make sure that no one snuck inside, but the post had been abandoned. A serious-looking electronic lock was on the door, but when I tugged on the handle, the door opened easily.
As soon as we slipped inside, we were submerged in the sounds of the game. Fake laser sounds accompanied bursts of light, and I quickly spotted two teenagers as they climbed over a giant block. I could hear other people running around as well, though the dim lighting made it hard to pick out details. Someone must’ve taken another hit from the laser gun, though, because the recorded voice was back.
“Finish him!” the voice encouraged.
“Look out, Lisa!” a girl shouted.
A short girl with pony tails ran out from behind a wall and rolled under something that looked like a ramp from a skate park. I noticed she was wearing a vest over her torso, which I assumed was part of the game.
“Are we going in?” Flora whispered.
“Yeah, yeah.” I took a deep breath and then took a few steps into the arena.
The girl under the ramp crawled out and pointed her gun at us, but when she saw that we didn’t have vests on, she rolled her eyes and ran off toward something that looked like a mini maze. There were a few shouts and a few more fake laser sounds, and then a spotlight came on and lit up the floor.
“Player three is dead!” the voice declared.
“Man,” a boy’s voice sighed.
A moment later, a kid who looked to be about thirteen or fourteen years old walked out of a pile of fake rocks. His vest was lit up like a Christmas tree, and he huffed as he walked toward the exit.
“Ah,” I said as the kid walked by. “Actually, there’s no one on duty right now.”
“What?” he said and squinted at us.
“Yeah, I don’t know where they went, but there’s no one watching the door or the game.” I pointed to my own chest, which was vest free. “There’s an active shooter alert. That’s why we came in here. We were hoping there was another way out.”
“Really?” he asked as he looked around, and he sounded scarily calm, like this was just another day. “Are you sure it isn’t just another drill, like we have at school?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I glanced over my shoulder to the unlocked door. “We heard gunshots.”
“Damn, and you said the girl on the door just left?” he asked and scratched his neck.
“I don’t suppose you know another way out?” I asked.
“Um, I think there’s a door in back,” the kid said uncertainly. “I’ve heard you can sneak in that way if you know the right person.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then let’s round up everyone else who’s in here and find that door.”
“Do you know how many more people are in here?” Flora asked.
“Um, it was a full crowd, I think.” The kid scratched his neck again and then looked back as footsteps pounded against the floor somewhere to our right. “So, like, ten, I guess.”
“Great,” I sighed. “Alright, let’s round up everyone and then find that door.”
“That might not be so easy,” the kid said. “There’re a lot of places to hide.”
“Maybe I should just try shouting to get their attention,” I said.
“You can try.” The kid snickered, but when I looked at him, he just shrugged.
“Hello!” I shouted. “Everyone in the laser tag room, can I have your attention, please!”
“Mmm, very official sounding,” Flora murmured.
There was the sound of more fake lasers, and then it sounded like someone jumped to the floor from fairly high up. But no one responded to my shout, nor did anyone appear to investigate.
“People in the laser tag room,” I tried again. “Please check your phones! You’ll see there’s a live shooter alert for the mall! Shots have been fired in the food court!”
Someone nearby giggled, but the sounds of laser blasts paused for a moment.
“Oh, shit,” a guy’s voice muttered.
A moment later, people began to trickle out of their hiding spots. I actually counted twelve more people, who ranged in ages from early teens to a twenty-something woman who rolled out from her hiding place like a stunt woman in an Avengers movie.
“Do you work for the mall?” a teenager with a cigarette dangling from his mouth asked.
“No,” I assured him. “We just ran in here to find another way out of the mall.”
“I said there’s a door in the back somewhere,” the first kid explained.
“Uh, yeah,” the kid with the cigarette agreed. “Where’s Tammy?”
“Tammy?” I asked.
“She was watching the door.” The cigarette smoker glanced toward the door to the arcade and then dropped his butt on the floor and ground it out.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “There wasn’t anyone outside.”
“Dang.” The cigarette smoker made a sound of disapproval and then pulled out a packet of cigarettes. “They probably went to the service entrance. That’s where the employees have to park.”
“Well, we still have to find a way out,” I said. “So if anyone knows where this back door is…”
The players looked at each other, but I wasn’t surprised when the kid with the cigarette nodded.
“Yeah, I think I can find it,” he said. “But it’s probably locked. You have to have a keycard to get it open.”
“We’ll deal with that when we find the door,” I said.
The rest of the players followed us as we moved toward the back of the arena. The sounds were still blasting, so we couldn’t hear if there was still gunfire at the food court, but I wasn’t counting the Russians out. They’d probably seen us run into the arcade, and if they made it past the other guns before the police arrived, they’d try to hunt us down in here.
