Free Jacked by Kirk Dougal

hallway stretched in his mind until it was many times its true length. But, just that quick, the plastic tables and chairs were beside him and suddenly the Mary Round loomed, the gleam of his flashlight shining on the body of a brightly painted horse. He veered to his right and nearly tripped over Toby, the two boys stumbling toward the loading docks. The metal door slammed against the cinder block wall as they burst through and Tar cringed at the echo. Only then did he slow. Toby continued a few more steps, appearing in Tar’s light, before he stopped and came back, breathing hard.
    “Turn on your light,” whispered Tar.
    “It won’t come on,” said Toby. “I smashed it on the floor when I tripped over that stupid fake person in the store. I think it’s brick now.”
    Tar shined his light at Toby’s hand and saw the cracked lens and bulb.
    “Put it in my backpack. I might be able to replace the bulb.”
    He turned and Toby unzipped a pocket on his pack.
    “Do you think we’ll be able to get out the way we came in?” Toby asked.
    “I don’t know. We need to be quiet and see if we can hear anything before we go out. Follow me.”
    Tar started walking toward the door with the computer lock. They were still several strides away when they heard raised voices outside.
    “I tell you I heard something,” said one.
    “We can’t get in here,” said another.
    “You two stay and guard the exit,” said a third. “We’ll go around and see if we can find any other doors.”
    The boys stopped.
    “We’re fragged,” whispered Toby. “Do you know another way out?”
    Tar started walking back toward the Food Court door.
    “Maybe,” he whispered after a few strides. “I usually just wait out whoever is out there.” This time he slowly opened the door so it made only a little squeak, and shut it just as carefully. “On the other side of this building is a walkway that goes to a parking garage across the street. It goes over the top so cars could drive under.”
    “We can get over to that?” asked Toby.
    “I think so, but not on the walkway. There’s a heavy door blocking it. I can unlock it, but without juice to crank it up it’s brick.”
    “So how do we get over?”
    “We don’t,” Tar said as they entered the open area. This time he turned in the opposite direction of the store overlooking the school. “We go under.”
    “I don’t get it,” said Toby.
    “There’s hallways behind these stores. Uncle Jahn says it’s how the workers would come and go and how they got everything to the stores without going through the shopping areas.”
    “So?”
    “So, don’t you get it? If the workers were able to get from their cars to the stores without being seen then they had to have their own way to get to the garage.”
    “But you don’t know for sure, do you, Tar?”
    His friend was right. He did not know for certain if there was a tunnel to the parking garage but it made sense for it to be there. He never had a chance to answer.
    The sounds of shattering glass echoed down the length of the open area, followed by voices and the sounds of running footsteps.
    “Come on,” whispered Tar.
    He ran to the store fronts and down the line until he found one that had its gate stuck open about three feet from the bottom. He dropped to his knees and rolled under it onto the musty carpet on the other side. Toby joined him a second later. They stayed still and listened. The footsteps were moving closer but the men had stopped talking.
    “Grab my shirt,” he whispered.
    Tar pointed the flashlight toward the back of the store. They were standing in the middle of a walkway between two rows of empty clothes racks. At the back of the store, directly behind the counter, an empty doorway opened into a hall.
    Tar switched off his flashlight and they were thrust into darkness.
    “What the…!” started Toby.
    “Shhh!”
    Tar walked straight toward the back of the store, pulling Toby behind him. He kept his left arm out