Chapter 13
The mall is far less spooky now that it’s filled with any number of ghosts. The two at my side keep the curious and the mischief-makers at bay but allow a few sprites to nestle at my side. They unerringly find all the bumps and bruises and the series of what I suspect are fractures along my ribs. Their cold steals the pain and clears my head.
The storefront looks as if it has folded in on itself. It reminds me of those collapsible boxes Malcolm uses in his magic show. A fine layer of plaster reaches all the way to the courtyard and the fountain. Footprints crisscross the tile, and I wonder how long they’ll last. In twenty years, will someone else come exploring and wonder what happened here?
In fact, I wonder now. How did we survive? How—and why—did the EMTs dig us out withou
