When the glass stopped pouring over them, Tony shuffled closer to Mercy and rested cautious hands on her back and shoulder. He wanted to soothe her and knew of nothing that could. His body seized at the second gunshot. His legs spasmed, desperate to run inside yet unwilling to leave Mercedes. So he held her tighter instead, just enough to reassure himself neither of them were alone.
"I've got you," he whispered.
The shuffling footsteps of the undead came only moments later, and their mumbled half-words followed. They came from across the atrium and far behind the escalators. Tony watched them come, heart rattling in his chest.
Like the shrill high note of some terrible opera. That's what Chris heard. That's all she could hear. But she saw everything as if someone had hit the slow motion button on her life and the cameraman had been drinking. She wrapped her fingers tightly around Dog's forearm when he helped her to steady her feet again, still holding the strap of the stranger's rifle in her other hand.
A dog leapt across the space in front of her, and Chris' head snapped to the left to follow it. She watched Cat jerk the animal's head halfway around and wanted to shout, lunge at him, stop him from making a bad situation worse. She moved a fraction forward and felt the world spin again. Then his hands were on the girl's neck, and his knife in her eyes, and curses tore from Chris' throat.
"Christina!" Tony called from... somewhere. He sounded like a terrified little boy again.
Tony wrapped an arm around Mercy to support her, and moved with her when she stood. He dropped his arm as soon as she seemed steady, but remained close. The undead shambled faster. At least, that's what he thought he saw. "I can't see them," he told Mercy, walking with her to the window. He reached for the revolver on his belt with a shaky hand. He followed Mercy's eyes around the mall and to the escalators, and quickly understood.
Chris pushed against Dog and gestured to the storefront; his brother was already leaving. Some brother. "We have to go." She crouched, swaying, and picked up the baton. "I'm sorry," she told the weeping woman, then swung both rifles over her shoulders and seized her by the arm. The woman fought. She clawed at Chris' arm and struck with an open palm wherever she could reach, shrieking all the while. Chris dragged her out into the mall atrium.
The sudden exposure to light sent her stomach whirling. She raised her arm to block out the worst of it. Ahead of them, the undead swelled around the atrium. Chris made for Tony and Mercy, brushing shoulders with the latter and exchanging a glance with the former. At the sight of her, he relaxed but for a half second, then his shoulders went up again. "The fire exit," he said, pointing with the gun. His words seemed far away, but she could hear them, even over the ringing. "There'll be stairs in maintenance corridors. Safer." Chris nodded and wasted no time in running for the food court, where a pair of double doors stood behind stalls, tables and chairs.
As they began to understand their prey were moving, the infected changed course.
