34

House of the Unfed

Linda Breima watched in surprise as her husband, his index finger pushed tight against his lips, slowly moved to the planters and knelt down to peer through the leafy plants into the mall's Food Court. He knelt there for a few moments, his right ear cocked towards the cacophony of cafeteria sounds, and then motioned Linda to his side.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Look into the Food Court at the nearest table on our left and tell me what you see."

She did. "There are two men in black suits drinking coffee," she reported.

"What are they wearing, Linda? Look closely," Deilune urged.

"Black…black…capes!" Linda gasped. "Is it Beilla? Are those the men that chased Nick and Lottica? The ones who might have murdered us?"

"It must be Beilla, but I need to get closer. I need to hear what they’re saying."

"But what are they doing here? Do you think they followed us?"

"I don't know, dear. That's why I need to get closer."

Linda gasped. "They could be after Nick and Lottica again. We've got to find them first."

"You’re right. Let's do this. You head back up the main concourse and try to locate the kids. If you find them, head back out to the car and wait for me. If you can't find them, come right back here. I’ll keep an eye on these two, and see if I can get close enough to overhear what they're saying."

"Be careful, Dale."

"Not to worry, dear. I think it's just a coincidence that they’re here. They wouldn't be in plain view, if they were stalking the kids."

With that reassurance, he lifted her veil and gave her a quick kiss. Then he made his way to an adjacent exit and doubled back around the building to the other mall entrance. Staying behind a row of gaudily fluted columns, he was able to make his way closer to Beilla’s table, but not near enough to hear what the two men were discussing.

Checking out his surroundings, he spied a way to get closer. Behind Beilla's table was a video game arcade with a few large, game consoles placed around the arcade entrance. One of the consoles was the type that players sat inside. It had an "Out of Order" sign taped to it.

Deilune could see that Beilla and the other man were still locked in a heated conversation, so he slinked and shuffled behind potted plants until he ducked into the enclosed game console. And found himself surrounded by an army of zombies with menacing, flesh-eating expressions reaching out for him. That fit. Of all the arcade games he could hide out in, he’d picked the one called House of the Dead. Even t such a dire time, Deilune appreciated the cosmic irony.

Linda Breima was finding no humor in her present situation. After twenty minutes of frantic searching, she hadn't spotted Nick or Lottica searching and decided to return to the Food Court to rendezvous with Deilune.

She cautiously approached their former seat near the fountain with the ferny planters. Their shopping bags full of clothes still stood by the bench, which caused her a momentary sense of relief since she hadn't given them a thought when she and Deilune rushed off.

But, she would have gladly traded the contents to know where her husband and kids were. With no sign of them, she gingerly pushed aside some foliage to see into the Food Court. She immediately saw the two caped men, still in animated conversation. But she couldn’t locate Deilune.

Then two things happened in quick succession. From where she was watching, a fiery red light flashed directly from Beilla's chest. And, almost simultaneously, she heard her daughter's unmistakable laughter echoing from the far side of the Food Court. She immediately grabbed their bags and headed towards the sound of her daughter’s squealing.

Lottica couldn’t know her mother had heard her laughing at her brother. She was too amused at the moment. "Nick, you’re such a...trajeime!" she snorted between bouts of laughter. On the little table between them, swam a plump hot dog in a soupy mess of chili, sauerkraut, cheese sauce and pickle relish.

Nick's was exasperated and mildly heartbroken holding his empty bun with the scant remains of what was going to be an hot dog. In retrospect, it was clear he’d gone too heavy on the condiments. One enthusiastic bite and—whoosh!—the dog had launched and gravity did the rest.

Nick took a bite of his empty bun. "I suppose there's a lesson to be learned from this. But," he added with a glare, "I'm not interested in hearing about it."

Lottica’s high, squealing laughter ratcheted down to an intermittent giggle. "Sure, Nick." She pushed her plate with a hamburger with a single bite taken from it towards her brother. "Go on and have this." She eyed his mess once again. "I'm not really hungry anymore. You filled me up on laughter."

"Fine with me. Maybe you've hit upon the next big diet bestseller: Flabbergasting Flab: How to lose a ton on three lame jokes a day. You'll be rich and famous in no time.” He inspected Lottica's burger. "This needs some spicing up," he announced as he headed over to the condiment bar.

Lottica grinned. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. She and Nick didn't have to be in mourning. They didn't have to be on guard against their grandparents. They had parents again. They could just be themselves. They could laugh and joke. They could be goofy kids again.

Until her parents rushed to their table and all House of the Dead madness broke loose.