Carol sat on the uncomfortable bench next to the empty fountain, picking at the overly sweet General Tso's Chicken she'd gotten from Panda Express. She'd normally have brought something in for lunch and eaten it hurriedly in the back room, but the Southfield Mall was particularly empty today and her morning had been extra crazy trying to get her daughter off to summer camp. Carol felt a little bad leaving Jasmine, her young coworker, alone in the store, but other than the occasional janitor or person wearing a nametag or store uniform, she didn't see anyone. There were rumors that the mall would be closing soon. Too rural, not enough customers – Macy's had been one of the big anchors, and when it left people saw the writing on the wall. There had been some talk about a new experimental concept store from a major tech company coming in, but that didn't seem to have gone anywhere. A developer had floated a proposal to buy the mall, tear it down, and build a new data center. Carol had looked over what she could on it, and in the end it seemed like the best option; it would be years before the town saw any money from the business, but at least it would be something. She'd been up late the night before, like every night for the past few weeks, trying to figure out how to make the numbers work. She figured it would be at least three months before the mall was shut down; in that time she had to get enough money saved to last... who knew how long. She'd organized all her bills by how overdue they were and how aggressive collections would get. "Baby steps," she told herself: pay off what she could, get things as good as possible, save where she could, and she'd be fine. Dropping her daughter off at camp that morning Carol had felt the sting of the camp bill. "I need to work," she'd told herself, but in the back of her mind she thought, "She's old enough, she could just come to the mall with me, she won't get in trouble." The General Tso's chicken hadn't been the smartest idea either; it was expensive and, in a way, unappetizing.
"Ratta Tat Tat." A muffled staccato sound came from the opposite end of the mall. Carol turned to see what it was, but everything still seemed empty. Then it came again, a little louder, a little sharper: "Ratta Tat Tat." Something about the sound didn't feel right. Carol started to put down her chicken and stared along the hallway the sound was coming from. Then she heard the screams, and she saw people running. Standing up she tried to get their attention, but they just ran past her. Now the "Ratta Tat Tat" was loud and violent, and she saw a young man holding what looked like some kind of machine gun coming down the hall. Quickly, instinctively, Carol turned and dove under the bench, hoping she wouldn't be noticed. From under the bench she could see the gunman walking towards her. Then he stopped, turning into a store. Jasmine! Carol almost screamed, but something in her made her freeze. She waited, knowing what was going to happen, sick to her stomach but frozen to the floor.
"Ratta Tat." Carol winced, but then "BANG... BANG, BANG" – a loud booming sound, different from the high staccato. Then nothing. Carol lay on the floor, face pressed to the tile, and closed her eyes.
She wasn't sure if it had been ten minutes or an hour when she heard a voice. "Are you ok?" Carol opened her eyes and looked up. It was a young woman, dark-skinned, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wore a police officer's uniform. "Are you ok?" the woman asked again, then, reaching out a hand, "Do you need help?" In shock Carol reached out and felt the woman's strong hands pull her to her feet. She crumpled into a seat on the bench, glanced at her unfinished General Tso's chicken, and started to cry.