Stuck at the Galleria

Act 4: The Thrill (part 2)

Well, congratulations, Trevor. You left the one girl that might have just given you a chance to get out of here, and now there's a group of weird mobster types out to get you, to say nothing of the guards. What are you going to do next?

I looked nonchalantly out at the upper levels and the roof of the building's west wing, trying to find a valid response besides "I'm going to Disney World!" My gait was slow and silent, and it was a wonder I'd managed to get myself moving at all, considering my mental state. Everything was stupid. The mall. The Crew. Alferto. Carl. Me.

What was even the point in trying to get out anymore? It wasn't like I was going to be there forever anyway, the mall was definitely going to be open the next day.  I could just wait it out.

I seriously considered it for a bit while I slouched on a metal bench in between Gossamer's Toy Stop and the GamePop, thunking my head a few times on the wall behind me with the hood of my jacket pulled up all the way over my eyes.

Nothing got me out of that state up until I heard a question. I wasn't sure if it was in my head or out there in the real world (if you could call it that at all) but  the voice wasn't my own, or Nora's, or anyone I'd heard before.

"Um, excuse me, sir, are you Tre?"

I perked up when I heard it. A short, blonde-haired boy in a gray polo shirt stood in front of me, with two cups from McDermott's Milkshakes in his hands and brown glasses on his face.

"As far as I can tell, yeah. So who are you?"

"Jones. Donovan Jones," he said, sitting himself down on the other side of the bench.

"I suppose you're one of Alf's cronies, eh, Jones? Nora never said anything about a Donovan." I said, taking my hood off with a long nod.

"Unfortunately," he said, sipping the straw on one of the shakes. "Talk about a bad boss, heh. Always moaning about Ms. Irving and demanding milkshakes. I'm just the gofer, I never bothered with the violent stuff."

"Why bother dealing with him at all? Can't you just stop working for him? You don't owe him anything..." Before I finished the sentence Jones smiled nervously and let out a pained laugh. "Oh. Sorry."

"My parents left my brother and I one day when I was nine, and my brother wasn't interested in childcare. Left me here one night and drove off into the sunset. I had no idea what I was going to do, but then I met Alferto. He was about thirteen back then. He promised me a paradise, a life where I didn't have to worry about crappy parents or mean brothers."

"And you accepted, I'm sure?" I asked.

"Yeah. Since then it's been 'yes boss,' 'no boss,' and 'want more soda?' for me. I loved it at first because Alf was a pretty cool guy on the surface, but he kinda grates on you after three years. The other crew coming around made him hard. He wasn't really that bad before, but when he saw there were other kids coming to the Galleria, he changed." Jones sighed. "I wish I could leave, but I feel like he was the only thing keeping me around since that one day, you know?"

"Sorry about that, man. I wish I could help you out." I gave him a smile. "Still. We'll both figure something out."

"What did you need to find?"

"A way out of here. I was trying to escape, but leaving the Crew kind of got me down. I'm thinking of just spending the night here, it's not a big deal."

He looked at me like I was insane. "Tre, Alf is vicious. You don't want to know what'll happen if they find you alone. I've seen it before, man. Guys have gone into his office behind the Stratford and 17th and never come out."

"Oh.. oh gosh. What do I do, Donovan? All the doors are locked so nobody gets in or out, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. All the doors are locked... except one." He smirked a bit, and my eyes widened. "It's the door from Stratford's top floor out to the roof, right next to the elevators in the womens' apparel department. Alf uses it sometimes to sneak stuff away from helicopters that ship stuff to the Galleria. If you can make it through there, you're home free."

"Can you get to it, Don?"

"I've never gone through, but I know the way. The only thing stopping you is the master key Alf uses to get through the door. I'm not sure where he keeps it, but every night he visits the basement of the Wamcy's, to 'check inventory'. You might be able to find it if you dig deep enough."

"Thank you so much, dude, you are amazing! I might still have a chance to get out now!"

"Glad I could help out, but before you go, just, tell me you'll do something."

"Sure."

He whipped back and forth, making sure nobody was around to hear. "Don't tell anyone you heard this from me. Please. If Alf figures out I spilled, I'm as good as a smear on the pavement."

"You have my word," I said, zooming up from the bench into a stride.

"Good luck!" he replied from behind me.

My resolve had returned. With the whole mall up against me, there wasn't any reason to stay. I had to get down to the basement, find the key, and then go back up to the fourth floor of the Stratford to the exit, and then the outside world was all mine. I got chills of excitement just thinking about the freedom. No more guards. No more Alf. No more Weisberger. No more Nora...

When I stopped to think about that last one, I wasn't so sure if that was a good thing. I knew there was a time when we were really great friends, and I loved those memories for sure, but ending our reunion the way I did would just sour things up. Nora didn't show any signs of really wanting to hide anything from me, anyway. Maybe that whole speech about how she wanted to protect me wasn't just a cover-up.

I had to make things right with her. But how? She probably wanted the Crew to make me an unperson after that whole outburst. I lost my momentum as I thought of it. They could help me out with this crackpot plan, they'd be the perfect team. I didn't want to beat myself up about the whole thing but it was hard not to.

I couldn't dwell on it too much, so I kept moving.