Scarborough had a reputation as being a tough city. A city of gangs and crime. Of course, it wasn't much worse than any other city or town, but once reputations are formed, they are not easily forgotten. In the 50s and 60s, Scarborough was your typical, primarily white suburban city, which was jokingly referred to as Scarberia because it supposedly symbolized drab conformity. In the years that followed, Scarborough became one of the most diversified cities in Ontario, with over 50% of its inhabitants being of ethnic origins, and the minority being whites. After some history with gang violence, the nickname became Scarlem, although it was not a term openly used due to the demeaning nature of it. Despite the reputation, Scarborough was a lush, green vibrant city with beautiful landscapes such as the Scarborough bluffs and the Rouge Valley. John, the security guard, and his share of experience and history with Scarborough, having lived within its borders for most of his adult life and then being a member of the police force there.
As John sat looking over the monitors with Thom, Isabel, and me, trying to figure out the best way to get out of the mall and over to the relative safety of the apartment complexes, he noticed a group of 5 young men on the northern part of the property, smashing a door and making their way into the mall at the entrance by the movie theatres. Usually this wouldn't bother John, as he would just call for back-up and get the situation taken care of, but these particular young men troubled him, and it wasn't because he didn't have any back-up. It was because he suspected from the look of them that they were members of the 401 Boyz, a notoriously violent gang that operated in Scarborough. As if mad infected citizens weren't enough to worry about.
John filled us in on the gang, and suggested we find a way out fast, as gang presence tends to grow rapidly and exponentially. After a few more minutes of strategizing, we all agreed that we would follow a short series of back hallways, usually used by couriers and delivery men, that lead to a docking bay exit at the east end of the mall, leaving just a short jaunt across a highway on-ramp over to the apartment complexes. We gathered up our stuff, and left the security office, half-jogging, half-crawling across the food court as if we were sneaking around in some Die Hard movie. We only had to cross one open area of the mall to get to the access hallway: an intersection of escalators and stairways, with a big elevator in the centre. The access door was on the opposite side, so we stayed close to the storefronts and worked our way around the centre court. As we got about a quarter of the way across, we heard voices from across the way, shouting and taunting each other. The gang members were nearing. We all picked up the pace, convinced that we could make it to the door before the gang made it to the court where we were. We broke into a full run now, more concerned about reaching our destination than being noticed. Once we reached the door, John opened it and held it open as the rest of us ran through. Isabel went through last and John took one quick look back just in time to see three of the guys arrive in the court and look straight across at him. They locked eyes with each other for one brief second.
"HEY!" yelled one of the hoods.
John's eyes widened and he let go of the door, turned back the way he came, and sped away in a full-on run. The three hoods took off after him, one with a knife and one with an automatic handgun. I heard the yell, ran back to the door, and looked out just in time to see the punks chasing John back down the mall. I told Thom and Isabel to go ahead and I would catch up to them, but they resisted, saying they wouldn't go ahead without me. And I insisted that we couldn't go on without John; we couldn't suddenly adopt the attitude that it was okay to leave someone behind.
They both agreed. We couldn't leave John behind, especially after he took off to make sure the gang members didn't discover us, and so we headed off to help him. We followed the shouts of the youths, who didn't seem to care if anyone heard them. We finally caught up with them as we rounded a corner to an exit where John was backed up against locked glass doors and the punks were narrowing in on him. Thom and I raised our guns simultaneously, concentrating our aim on the two that had weapons. My finger twitched on the trigger, I was just waiting to see if they were going to make a move towards John. That was the thought running through my head when I felt cold steel press into the back of my head.
"Drop the fucking guns."
The deep, aggressive voice came from behind us. We slowly lowered our guns and turned our heads to see five more of the gang members. One of them yelled out to the original three, who turned around to witness the triumphant capture. Diane and Jordan's faces flashed through my mind as the youths all laughed and hollered. One of them grabbed Isabel forcefully behind the neck and pulled her close, whispering something in her ear that made her physically retract, a look of absolute terror and disgust on her face. They grabbed John, and took us all back through the mall. Along the way, other wandering members of the gang joined them, some randomly smashing windows and looting stores, taking iPods, Blu-ray players, and random pieces of clothing. As we passed by the court near the escalators, I glanced at our escape door and looked around for something that could help us, but I didn't know what. I just wished there was something we could do to get out of this situation. As I walked, I tilted my head back with my eyes closed, hoping this was all a dream. As I opened my eyes, head still tilted, I noticed movement through the skylight, but I didn't catch what it was. Something dark had been in the window, and then ducked out of sight. Then a thought occurred to me. The clinic. I spoke up.
"What do you guys want from us? We work here. We can get you anything you want."
The one who seemed to be the head honcho stopped the whole group, and we all stood still, silent in the middle of the mall.
"What could we possibly want from you that we can't just take ourselves?"
I thought for a second.
"There's stuff in this mall that's more valuable than what's in the stores. When the outbreak started, we stored away all the cash, and a huge amount of drugs from the pharmacy. It would be worth a fortune. We can show you where it is."
The leader thought for a second, and I could practically see the gears turning in his head. He stood there for a moment, and then turned his attention back to me.
"Where?"
"The food court, there was an empty store, so we figured we would stow everything away there. We figured looters would never break into a seemingly empty store."
He seemed to buy this. He turned and slapped one of his buddies on the back, and cracked a twisted smile. He turned back to me, grabbed the back of my neck and put the tip of his knife right up to my face, millimeters from my eye.
"There beter be motherfucker, or I cut me some steaks."
