A Confederacy of Horrors by James Robert Smith

Author:James Robert Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Hippocampus Press
Published: 2015-01-26T08:00:00+00:00

Underneath, identifying it:

Shit. He shrugged, thinking things must not be well with the mall that they could let something like that remain up without whitewashing it. The paper trash and plastic detritus was gathered up in unsightly clumps here and there about the parking lot, at curbs, against the sides of the mall itself. If there was not enough money for simple maintenance, then things were as tight here as elsewhere. Again, he shrugged to himself. West Park had never been the most popular of malls, and now, with the economic situation being what it was . . .

God, he needed a job. He thought again of the kids, of Trudy coming home from her work at the grocery store, looking at the bills piling up on the desk, wringing her hands and crying over them as if her tears could make them go away. He hustled, passed the great head looming over him, and strode for the mall entrance. “Please, God. Please.”

The sight of the interior of the mall shocked him. A few shoppers filtered through the front entrance, moving immediately into the big department store that anchored one side of the center. Inside, through the wide glass way, he could see well-stocked aisles. A few women moved listlessly amidst them, pushing empty carts. At the checkout there were four cashiers, all of them leaning against their counters, staring at nothing, waiting for the scarce customers, the infrequent sales.

Craig looked down the cavernous hall that was the mall proper and was stunned to see how many of the bays were empty—darkened voids where a dozen shops had once thrived. Walking through, he noticed “going out of business” signs hanging by yellowed tape to metal security gates closed infinitely down on grimy tile. In some of the former shops he read bankruptcy notices and realized the shadowed interiors were still filled with unclaimed merchandise waiting to be auctioned by emotionless clerks. His throat caught with some empathetic feeling, and he knew he was not likely to find work in this place.

On the blank wall that had once held the sign for a fitness equipment center, amidst the brown residue of the glue that had held it in place, he saw the face. NUMHED RULES. Those crossed-out eyes drilled into his own. Craig blinked and negotiated his way down the hallway.

A girl of fifteen (perhaps) was sitting in front of one of the lighted bays. She had her bare legs crossed, red sandals on her feet, toenails painted the same bright shade. Her thighs were revealed, blue-veined and sunless, and the crimson halter-top she wore sagged at her chest to reveal the cleavage of her ample breasts. Craig stared, noting the pallor of her face beneath rouged cheeks and too much lipstick. He walked past, trying not to gawk at her, and she regarded him with eyes of washed-out blue, smiling thinly before turning her head to gaze at the far end of the hall, toward the big grocery that anchored the other side of the center.

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