push my hand gently away from her mouth. She swallowed and nodded once.
“There’s no time. We have to find the security office now.”
“A-all right,” she said. “This way.”
She led us off and we followed her, creeping through the cavernous dimness of the unlit mall. Molly leaned in close to me to whisper. “Even if we get the security guards, what are they going to do against something that can do that ?”
“They’ll have radios,” I whispered back. “Cell phones. They’ll know all the ways out. If we can’t call in help, they’ll give us the best shot of getting these people out of here in one—”
Lights began flickering on and off—not blinking, not starting up and shutting down in rhythm, but irregularly. First they came on over a section of the third floor for a few seconds. Then they went out. A few seconds later, it was a far section of the second floor. Then they went out. Then light shone from one of the distant wings for a moment and vanished again. It was like watching a child experiment with the switches.
Then the PA system let out a crackle and a little squeal of feedback. It shut off again and came back on. “Testing,” said a dry, rasping voice over the speakers. “Testing one, two, three.”
Sarah froze in place, and then backed up warily, looking at me. I stepped up next to her, and she pressed in close to me, shivering.
“There,” said the voice. It was a horrible thing to listen to—like Linda Blair’s impression of a demon-possessed victim, only less melodious. “I’m sure you all can hear me now.”
And I’d heard such a voice before. “Oh, hell,” I breathed.
“This is Constance,” continued the voice. “Constance Bushnell. I’m sure you all remember me.”
I glanced at Molly, who shook her head. Sarah looked frightened and confused, but when she caught my look, she shook her head, too.
“You might also remember me,” she continued, “as Drulinda.” And then the voice started singing “Happy Birthday.” The tune wasn’t even vaguely close to the actual song, but the “Happy birthday to me” lyrics were unmistakable.
Sarah’s eyes had widened. “Drulinda?”
“Who the hell is Drulinda?” I asked.
Sarah shook her head. “One of our characters. But her player ran away from home or something.”
“And you didn’t recognize her actual name?”
Sarah gave me a slightly guilty glance. “Well, I never played with her much. She wasn’t really very, you know—popular.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Tell me whatever you can about her.”
She shook her head. “Um. About five four, sort of . . . plain. You know, not ugly or anything, but not really pretty. Maybe a little heavy.”
“Not that.” I sighed. “Tell me something important about her. People make fun of her?”
“Some did,” she said. “I never liked it, but ...”
“Crap.” I looked at Molly and said, “Code Carrie. We’re in trouble.”
The horrible, dusty song came to an end. “It’s been a year since I left you,” Drulinda’s voice said. “A year since I found what all you whining losers were looking for. And I decided to give myself a present.” There was a horrible pause, and then the voice said, “You. All of you.”
“Code what?” Molly asked me.
I shook my head. “Sarah, do you know where the announcement system is?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “Administration. Right by—”
“The security office.” I sighed.
Drulinda’s voice continued. “The entrances are closed and watched. But you should feel free to run for them. You all taste so much better when you’ve had time to be properly terrified. I’ve so been looking forward to seeing your reaction to the new me.”
With that, the PA system shut off, but a second later, it started playing music—“Only You,” by the Platters.
“Molly,” I hissed, suddenly realizing the danger. “Veil us, now .”
She blinked at me, then nodded, bowing her head with a frown of concentration and folding
“There’s no time. We have to find the security office now.”
“A-all right,” she said. “This way.”
She led us off and we followed her, creeping through the cavernous dimness of the unlit mall. Molly leaned in close to me to whisper. “Even if we get the security guards, what are they going to do against something that can do that ?”
“They’ll have radios,” I whispered back. “Cell phones. They’ll know all the ways out. If we can’t call in help, they’ll give us the best shot of getting these people out of here in one—”
Lights began flickering on and off—not blinking, not starting up and shutting down in rhythm, but irregularly. First they came on over a section of the third floor for a few seconds. Then they went out. A few seconds later, it was a far section of the second floor. Then they went out. Then light shone from one of the distant wings for a moment and vanished again. It was like watching a child experiment with the switches.
Then the PA system let out a crackle and a little squeal of feedback. It shut off again and came back on. “Testing,” said a dry, rasping voice over the speakers. “Testing one, two, three.”
Sarah froze in place, and then backed up warily, looking at me. I stepped up next to her, and she pressed in close to me, shivering.
“There,” said the voice. It was a horrible thing to listen to—like Linda Blair’s impression of a demon-possessed victim, only less melodious. “I’m sure you all can hear me now.”
And I’d heard such a voice before. “Oh, hell,” I breathed.
“This is Constance,” continued the voice. “Constance Bushnell. I’m sure you all remember me.”
I glanced at Molly, who shook her head. Sarah looked frightened and confused, but when she caught my look, she shook her head, too.
“You might also remember me,” she continued, “as Drulinda.” And then the voice started singing “Happy Birthday.” The tune wasn’t even vaguely close to the actual song, but the “Happy birthday to me” lyrics were unmistakable.
Sarah’s eyes had widened. “Drulinda?”
“Who the hell is Drulinda?” I asked.
Sarah shook her head. “One of our characters. But her player ran away from home or something.”
“And you didn’t recognize her actual name?”
Sarah gave me a slightly guilty glance. “Well, I never played with her much. She wasn’t really very, you know—popular.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Tell me whatever you can about her.”
She shook her head. “Um. About five four, sort of . . . plain. You know, not ugly or anything, but not really pretty. Maybe a little heavy.”
“Not that.” I sighed. “Tell me something important about her. People make fun of her?”
“Some did,” she said. “I never liked it, but ...”
“Crap.” I looked at Molly and said, “Code Carrie. We’re in trouble.”
The horrible, dusty song came to an end. “It’s been a year since I left you,” Drulinda’s voice said. “A year since I found what all you whining losers were looking for. And I decided to give myself a present.” There was a horrible pause, and then the voice said, “You. All of you.”
“Code what?” Molly asked me.
I shook my head. “Sarah, do you know where the announcement system is?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “Administration. Right by—”
“The security office.” I sighed.
Drulinda’s voice continued. “The entrances are closed and watched. But you should feel free to run for them. You all taste so much better when you’ve had time to be properly terrified. I’ve so been looking forward to seeing your reaction to the new me.”
With that, the PA system shut off, but a second later, it started playing music—“Only You,” by the Platters.
“Molly,” I hissed, suddenly realizing the danger. “Veil us, now .”
She blinked at me, then nodded, bowing her head with a frown of concentration and folding
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