“She’s not the first person I’ve seen die.” He closes his eyes again.

Miranda exchanges a curious glance with the other guy. What does this Javier person know, anyway? Then she realizes that she knows something too. She swallows and says, “I’m sorry to say this, but I think Javier’s right. I saw one of them come down the escalator. He was killing anyone who was still alive.”

“Even if my mom is dead, I can’t just leave her out there.” Grace’s voice is high-pitched, distorted to a quaver. “That’s my mom.”

“But that’s not your mom,” the pale-eyed guy says in an urgent whisper. “Not anymore. That’s just—just a shell.” His mouth turns down hard on the corners. “And she would want you to live.”

“Who are you and what would you know about what my mom would want?”

“I’m Cole. And that’s what any parent would want for their child.”

“Well, Cole, you don’t know what my mom would want. Maybe she wouldn’t want to be alone. You guys don’t know anything about her. Whether she’s dead, what she would want…” Grace takes a step toward the shutter.

Miranda grabs her wrist. “If you go back out there, you’ll put all of us at risk.”

“But they’ve stopped shooting.” Grace tries to pull free, but Miranda won’t let her.

“They’ve stopped because anyone left out there is dead.”

Suddenly the fire alarm cuts off.

Miranda holds up her free hand. “Shh!”

Everyone freezes. From outside, in the direction Parker ran to, comes a series of sounds. Rattling metal. Announcements made through what sounds like a megaphone. Miranda can make out some of the words. Something about the world listening. Something about giving up their phones. And then they all flinch at a sound. It’s muffled, but it sounds like a shot.

“We have to get out of here,” Miranda whispers. “If they figure out we’re in here, they’ll kill us.”

Amina points. “The metal security shutter will protect us.”

Javier opens his eyes. “That don’t mean anything. I’ve seen bullets go right through car doors.”

Miranda doesn’t want to know how Javier knows these terrible things. She points toward the rear of the store. “Where does that door go to?”

“To the service corridor.” Amina’s face lights up. “Which eventually leads to an exit.” She hurries over, pushes it open, and sticks out her head. But before anyone can think about following her, she yanks it closed again. When she turns back, she’s shaking so hard, her whole body trembles. “They’re killing people out there, too. There’s a body right there. I think it’s Linda from Pottery Barn.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Linda!”

Everyone slumps as the strings of hope are cut. “Can they get in here from out there?” Miranda whispers.