Hutchins Mall

It was the same dream again. The open-air mall, chased by the mob, ending in a staredown at gunpoint, then: bang. 

Cameron, surprised at how awake he now felt, looked at the triple threes on his clock and wondered if he could get back to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, he was googling “outdoor mall Chicago”. He’d never been there, but he just knew it was Chicago. It was unlikely that he’d find anything, but he was bored and he couldn’t sleep. He remembered hopping handrails twice down a staircase, running past the Sbarro and Orange Julius, then ducking into-

“Sears!”

Cameron had clicked on a map of Hutchins Mall, and had just traced his path past each store, perfectly aligned to his memory. Everything was in place; it was his mall. It had to be.

-

That morning, Cameron packed a bag and drove the 217 miles to Chicago. He wasn’t even sure why he was going; maybe just to see firsthand if it was the real thing. After all, he wasn’t wanted by the mob, or at least he thought so.

He arrived as it was getting dark. Inside, trepidation flitted in and out of his mind. Why did I come here? Am I destined to die in this mall? What if the mob has used mind-control techniques on me?

He laughed when he thought ‘mind-control’. Just to be safe, he kept an eye out for suspicious people.

Up ahead, he saw them. He waded through shoppers as he descended the staircase, as if he were replaying his dream in slow motion. Coming to ground level, there, right on cue, was Sbarro. Orange Julius was next. Sears was straight ahead. 

Screaming came from the top level. Cameron scanned the top level, heart racing. Was this it?

A man sliced a path through the shoppers, then jumped a handrail. He jumped it again, then sprinted past Cameron into Sears. Behind him rushed two men in suits, one of them bleeding from his forehead. 

“No way,” gasped Cameron.

Suddenly, he turned and ran up the stairs. In his dream, he ducked into Sears and went back into the mall through the second level. One jump down the staircase, across the street to a park, and that’s where the gunman was. This man had to be warned before he became a bodybag. 

Outside the Sears entrance, Cameron waited. Before long, the man showed up, walking briskly, trying to blend in but get out. 

“Don’t go to the park,” Cameron said. “They’ve got a guy there.”

He heard a faint ‘thanks’ as the man left.

Downstairs went the man, and Cameron felt relieved. This changed when the suits caught up.

“He’s down the stairs!” yelled one into his shoulder. “Stay in the park; we’ll flush him to you.”

The bleeding suit stumbled, then sat up and asked Cameron, “Did you see him?”

“Who?”

“A guy ran downstairs just now. He’s wanted in five states. Any information would be helpful.”