Free Going Gray by Brian Spangler

was used. She motioned to Peter’s keys. “Anyone else been in here?”
    “Nah. Just me. Most probably don’t know that it’s even here. We’ve already stock-piled everything we could find from the food court. Just happened to miss this store.” Peter pushed the pretzel carousel, spinning them until they were a golden blur. “Spoiled food and dead bodies are all we’re going to have soon.” His stare stretched past the counter to the long top-loading refrigerator she hadn’t seen before. Decorating the front, a large red sign with the printed words Reddi Wip . Whatever was inside was going to melt or spoil soon.
    “Really?” she asked, holding up her muffin, but the thought had already crossed her mind. The thought had been stuck there since carrying Mr. Rainer’s body.
    Peter gently wiped a crumb from her cheek. The gesture caught her off guard, and she couldn’t stop a bashful smile from showing. But like the earlier feeling, this too quickly passed as thoughts of Justin came into her mind. Like a pull or tug from deep inside her soul, she had a sudden need to be near him, to check on him. She supposed it was like that in every family; an instinct to be close to one another. And maybe that is where grieving came from; an overwhelming feeling when someone is no longer there.
    Peter reached up again, laying his hand to catch dust and bits of ceiling in his palm. The cozy little store was beginning to shake, and her thoughts went to her garage. But surely the mall was safe. Brick and mortar, and so very large. A rumble sounded, distant and guttural.
    “What’s going on?” Peter asked. His voice cracked as he spoke, and his hands darted out as if trying to keep his balance. An odd vibration rose up into Emily’s seat, erupting into a steady shutter that rocked her up and down. The pretzel carousel shook, erratic and violent, teetering before falling over. A storm of movement erupted into a chaotic song, filling her ears with noises she’d never heard before. The vibrations grew and collapsed like a hampered breath, a rhythm that put into motion what was never meant to move. And then the small cozy store was dancing around her, swarming her view with a collage of colors, tapping its foot in tempo to the strained cry of concrete, wood and metal.
    Instinctively she stretched her hands, grabbing hold of Peter. He responded, taking her arms as their world shook back and forth. The pretzel carousel rolled and disappeared from atop the counter. Glass bottles rattled and crashed, shattering. Liquids spilled, and tables and chairs screeched against the floor. And then, for just a moment, every sound was suddenly sucked out of the mall in one huge breath. And soon after, the stale salty air was gone too.
    A strong jolt jarred them, throwing everything in the store. She lost her grip, losing Peter, feeling his shirt slip from between her fingers. The image in front of her went sideways as they fell to the floor. Immediately she tried to brace herself, but landed awkwardly on her side. Her injured ribs crunched against a fallen stool, immediately stealing the air from inside her. She gasped while stars streaked a path of lightning in front of her. Peter landed next to her; his pupils blown, looking like large black coins: frightened. And as he darted his head around, he blinked furiously, batting away blood from a ragged gash that lay open on his head.
    Emily caught a short breath and took hold of Peter’s shirt, reassuring him with her focus. She reached over, wiping the blood so that he could see. He jerked forward, swinging his arm, and punched away a bundle of falling magazines. The floor beneath them shook as the store tumbled and fell around them. And then there came a cry from somewhere outside the store. The screams were distant, yet close enough for her to think it could be one of the twins.
    When the shaking slowed, a low rumble filled her ears. She winced when the pressure punched the air. Peter’s lips