Total Eclipse by Rachel Caine Page B

yourself?”
    “I told him I had to use the bathroom.”
    Well, that wouldn’t hold him for long, if I knew Kevin. As I looked around, I saw that most of the mall crowd had taken alarm and was streaming for the exits—not yet running at this end, but certainly moving with purpose.
    One tall, lanky, skinny figure was pushing through upstream, heading for us. “Jesus,” he said, taking us in as he arrived. “When you chicks go to the mall, you really tear the place up.”
    He was looking toward the south, where the screaming crowd originated, and I said, “What do you see?” I felt frustratingly handicapped, as I helped David to sit up and got his hand firmly placed over the wound in his side. “Kev?”
    “No idea,” he admitted. “It’s just a mass of— something. I can’t see what it is, except it’s heading this way, and I think all these people running might have a real good idea.”
    He grabbed David’s arm and hoisted him to his feet, taking most of David’s weight, and we blended with the general exodus.
    Behind us, something exploded. Kevin turned, staring back, and extended a hand to snuff out a ball of fire that was rolling through the broad tiled hall in a hellish, orange-black rush. He stopped it before it did more than singe the lagging runners. Before he could turn around again, another explosion rocked the building, prompting more screams and a mob of panicked, running people through the food court, sending tables and chairs flying.
    “Let go,” David said. “Go do what you need to do.”
    Kevin glanced at him, nodded, and spun away to plunge toward the danger. I quickly braced David as he wavered, and Cherise bit her lip and looked indecisive. “Should I . . . ?”
    “No,” I said firmly. “Cher, if you want to help, look out for people who can’t get out on their own.” There were plenty of them—people in wheelchairs struggling to make headway through the sudden minefield of debris, people on walkers shuffling along at their best speed, a few who’d tripped and were trying to get up but kept getting knocked down. Situations like this, people would get trampled.
    I took a deep breath. “David, can you stay up?”
    “Go,” he said, nodding. His face was ghostly, but his eyes burned with determination. “I’ll make it. You two help.”
    I headed for a grandmotherly type in a power scooter, who was stranded by a drift of fallen chairs, and kicked them out of the way as I offered a bracing arm to an older gentleman with a cane who’d been knocked off his feet. “Here,” I said, and put them together. “Buddy system. Make sure you both get out, okay?”
    They nodded, too scared to do anything but obey whatever order sounded official at the moment. It was a good partnership. The old guy shoved things out of the way, and kept one hand on her scooter for stability as they moved along.
    I grabbed up a couple of screaming kids who were missing their parents and flagged down a lady with a stroller, who took the toddlers on. There was a teenage girl down near the Subway counter—out cold, with a swelling bruise on her head from where she’d fallen and knocked herself out on the tile. I dragged two teen boys to a stop and put them in charge of her. They looked shocked. It was probably the first time anybody had asked them to be in charge of anything. They grabbed her and towed her out.
    By the time I’d made it close to the north exit, most of those able-bodied shoppers had cleared out, leaving a few injured, and one asthma sufferer who needed her inhaler, dropped somewhere back in the panic. Nothing I could do for her but send her on her way, and appoint yet another unwilling Samaritan to make sure she got to emergency help.
    “Jo!” Cherise yelled from the other side of the food court. “Get out!”
    I wasn’t about to, because not only was Cherise still inside, so was David. He’d stopped moving, in fact, and turned to face the south entrance. The food court was unnaturally