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There are stories you hear, growing up in Standing Ash. Places you don't go, things you don't do. Lock your doors near the college when the moon is full. Don't stay on old Main Street after 7pm unless you have business there, and leave as soon as you're done. Don't walk into the woods without asking, and don't walk in at all unless you hear a crow call when you ask. Save the condiment packets from delivery and pour them out in your backyard in the northwest corner within a week of getting them. And don't stay in the mall after closing time.
Of course, when I was 15 and stupid, I lived at the mall practically. I was a mall rat par excellence after the divorce. It was a culture, a subculture, but a culture. We hung out even though we didn't like each other very much. We knew the hidden hallways and how to get into the sub basements, and where to hide to spy on the employees to get the codes to the doors when they thought they were alone. We ate samples and hoarded change that fell from people's pockets to share one of the overfilled takeout boxes from the Cajun place that was more Chinese than Cajun that every mall has. You didn't shoplift, because that would get you exiled, and you always dropped a penny in the fountain when you had one to spare.
And you never, ever stayed after the stores locked up. Unless you were dared, and even then not long.
The first couple times I was dared. I hid from security for a little bit, and then slipped through the back halls. It felt empty and quiet, but I didn't feel that sense of wrongness that my friends said they felt when they stayed. They said it felt like a graveyard, like a tomb, like it was watching them and didn't approve. It felt like a church to me, like a soft place laying down to sleep and inviting me to stay. I left quickly both times, because i had a feeling that it I didn't, I wouldn't. That I would just curl up somewhere and sleep.
The third time, I didn't tell anyone I was staying. I told one of my friends I was staying with the other, and then told the other the opposite, and asked them to cover for me. Then I just hung back as the others filtered out to their rides and bicycles, and when no one was looking I slipped back into one of the employee entrances and down to the halls behind the walls. I went to my favorite hiding place and pulled up my eBook and sat quietly, reading and enjoying the stillness and quiet and peace. I didn't have a plan, I just wanted to spend a night in the only place that felt like home to me.
"Hello," came a soft voice.
I looked up to find a girl standing there looking at me. She was oddly pale, and she wore a beanie that covered most of her head completely, and wonderfully fashionable clothes. She was petite to the point of looking delicate, and her small feet were bare. I realized that I could hear music playing, and that i had been hearing it for a while without realizing. I checked my phone, confused to see that it said it was 11pm.
"Um."
She smiled a little. "You're one of the acolytes. I've seen you around."
I was fairly sure I would remember her if I'd seen her, she was unworldly pretty. "Acolyte?"
She nodded and extended her hand. I took it, and she helped me up. I felt weird and plain in my baggy shirt and skinny jeans with my hoodie tied around my waist next to this beautiful girl. She led me out along the halls, but...they were different halls. I didn't know these halls, they were too short, too clean. It would have taken me five minutes to walk around to where we came out, but we made it in under a minute, it felt like.
We stepped out into the food court and my jaw fell open. There was soft music playing, something jazzy and friendly, and the mall was full of people. Well, not full, but there had to be a few hundred here. Adults, children, some of them looking almost normal, some of them no where near human. I saw a small family of people with bright red skin, and several with gray skin. The skin on the back of my neck crawled as I realized that most of them were bald.
"You...you're..."
She smiled. "I'm Isadora World Trade."
My mouth felt dry. "You're a mannequin."
Her smile dimmed a little. "We prefer Quiet People."
I nodded, feeling a little numb. "World Trade? Like the store?"
Isadora nodded. "That's my family."
I swallowed a little. "How...do all the ma...Quiet People move around at night?"
"Yep!"
I stared out at the smiling, happy, strange people, walking around, talking, children playing with toys from the stores while adults read books from the book store. All the grates were up, the mall was open, there just...weren't humans here.
Isadora took my hand. "Want to go see a movie?"
I grinned a little and nodded. "Sure!"
~
I went back as often as I could. I came to learn that the Quiet People there called themselves the Standing Ash Clan, and that sometimes the Quiet People from in town came in to visit. The first time that Isadora led me through the back halls to a thrift store on the other side of town without ever stepping outside and certainly without walking the 10 miles between the two points, I was stunned.
But the Elsewares were a pleasant, happy family of ten that invited me to play board games and cards while the late night radio show played soft rock. It was a happy, pleasant evening, and Isadora dropped me off out the back door of the convenience store down the road from my house.
After that, Isadora picked me up for at least a few hours every night. It was hard, at times. I didn't get a lot of sleep, for one thing. For another, my birth family was more and more distant from me as I spent more and more time with the Clan. I was beginning to think of them as my real family, as the people who genuinely cared for me. And for another, all the Quiet People were shockingly handsome or pretty, and I felt like the drab little human that they were taking in. And, of course, I had trouble being in the mall and seeing my family frozen in silence.
Eventually, I found myself wondering about things. I knew Standing Ash was a strange place, but there were inconsistencies that made me curious. We were sitting in the food court, me reading on my phone and Isadora reading a newspaper, when a question struck me that I'd been thinking of for a while.
"Izzy?" I asked softly, looking up.
She glanced up from where she was doing a crytopuzzle from the paper onto a napkin. "Hmm?"
I looked around at the clan, going about their lives, quiet and happy. "Where are the security guards? I've never seen one."
Izzy smiled. "They keep to their little room at night, and we keep to our places during the day."
I blinked. "So...so humans aren't allowed in your world?"
Izzy shook her head. "No, not really. We like our peace."
"Then...why am I here?"
She smiled. "You're an acolyte."
"What does that mean?" I asked, a little confused.
She shrugged. "It's complicated. But you'll see when the time is right."
I nodded, knowing by now that she wouldn't tell me if she didn't want to.
The right time came when one of the empty slots in the mall was turned into a hat store. Izzy asked me to be ready earlier than usual, so I pulled my trick of playing two friends off each other and staying in the mall. It was Thursday night, and summer had just started, and the store was set to open the following day. When Izzy came to get me from my hiding place, she was wearing a flowing white dress. As we stepped out into the mall near the new store, I immediately realized that every Quiet Person was here, and every one of them was wearing white. My heart pounded as I looked around the crowd. Their faces were flat, still in a way that made them almost look like their daytime selves.
"Izzy-"
"Hush," she said softly.
She led me up to the store and for the first time, I saw a Quiet Person at night that wasn't...awake, I guess? He looked like they did in the daytime.
Izzy turned and took my hands, standing outside the store. "Do you know what today is?"
I shook my head, trying not to think of the crowd.
Izzy smiled. "It's been a year and a day since you met me. And in that time, I have never asked your name, and you have never given it to me."
I felt a pang as I realized she was right. I'd never...and as I thought about it, my tongue tied. For all that the Quiet People were more family to me than anyone else, I couldn't help the fear of giving my name to someone not human.
Izzy grinned a little sadly. "So it has come down to this. We have opened ourselves to you, shown you, given to you. We have shared our hospitality and asked little to nothing. For a year and a day. So now we ask you: go or stay? Share yourself with us, or leave?"
My head spun. I clenched at her hands convulsively, feeling cold and shaky. I couldn't live without my family. And as that thought took hold, I realized that I damn well could live without the people that had whelped me and done a half-ass job at making sure I didn't die on my way to adulthood. But I couldn't live without the Clan.
I forced my tongue loose and whispered, "My name is Jennifer Andrea McNeal."
There were gasps from the crowd and Izzy's eyes widened like I'd slapped her.
"If you're going to go," she said softly, her voice trembling, "the least you could do is not lie to my face before you do it."
I blinked. "What?"
Her lips thinned. "You just lied to me."
I carefully extracted my hand from hers and pulled out my wallet. "No, see?" I said softly, showing her my state ID.
She stared at it and her lips quirked as the crowd sighed with a faint burst of relieved laughter.
"Oh. No, silly. Not the name given to you, because you do not claim it. Your name, the real one."
I flushed. "Oh. Um. My name is Evan Alexander, then."
Izzy smiled brilliantly. "Thank you. And having given of yourself, we offer again: go or stay?"
I floundered and then my eyes fell on the silent mannequin. My heart froze and I looked back at her. "Am...will I be like you?"
She smiled, a little shakily. "Go or stay?"
I took a deep breath and said, as loudly as I could make myself, “I want to stay.”
Izzy smiled brilliantly as the crowd whooped. She stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek, then whispered very softly, “The next part is frightening. Be brave.”
I gulped and nodded as Izzy stepped back. Six tall Quiet Men stepped forward. I knew them all. Ashton Abercrombie, Peter Hollister, Ewan Champs, Hank Dillards, Jonas Sears, and Michael JCPenney. Their faces were solemn as Jonas and Hank gently grabbed my clothes, and I forced myself to stand still as they stripped me to my underwear. My face burned as my binder and boxers were revealed, but I kept my chin up, lips trembling. They gently pulled me back and held me against the mannequin, a handsome boy that, from what i'd seen of the Quiet People, would come to life with slicked back white hair and a chiseled body.
Each of them grabbed me, holding me against the mannequin at my waist, ankles, wrists, and head. Izzy stepped into view and my heart rate shot up to a thousand beats a second. She was holding a knife block under one arm and a paring knife from it in the other hand.
Be brave , she mouthed, worry in her eyes.
I forced myself to breathe, nodding, my ears ringing as she stepped forward. I watched, hyperventilating, as she placed the knife over the back of my hand. There was a soft thunk and my hand lit up in pain. She'd used the knife to pin my hand to the mannequin's hand.
I bit back a scream as I stared at the knife block in sudden horrified understanding. Every one of those knives was going into me. She was going to nail me to the mannequin a blade at a time.
She nodded slightly and pulled out a steak knife, pinning my other hand in place. I did scream now, a sobbing cry that ripped out of my throat. Izzy's hand was somehow over my mouth before the scream left me and it was oddly muffled. She shook her head and placed a finger over my lips and i shuddered. I had to be quiet.
Security , she mouthed.
I swallowed a tiny hysterical laugh bubbling up in me. Security would come running if they heard screams. And they would not take kindly to finding the Quiet People butchering a teenage boy. I nodded jerkily, my breathing harsh and fast. Maybe they were just killing me. Maybe i was some kind of blood sacrifice to bring the mannequin to life.
But the guards would hurt my family. And even if they killed me...i didn't want that.
I bit my lip bloody keeping silent as she stabbed my feet, pinning them to the tops of his feet. My thighs were stabbed next, and then my shoulders, and I was breathing fast and shallow now, blood streaming down me, shock setting in. Izzy was stabbing deliberately, but quickly, not wasting time. My eyes widened and I whimpered when she pointed a steak knife at my eye. I bit my tongue so hard i tasted blood as she drove it in, through my skull and into the mannequin behind. If anyone ever offers to stab you in the eye, i recommend saying no. It hurt worse than anything i could have imagined. And then she did it again, blinding me.
Two knives left , I thought dizzily. I let out a little gurgle as the next one slammed through the base of my throat, and now i was truly dying. As i slipped, i made my peace. I was human. Humans are not allowed in with the Clan. I had only been visiting, groomed to die so one of them could live. But i could die quietly knowing that i'd helped my family grow. It's not like i was using my life anyway. I hoped that the boy who i was dying for loved his life with my family, that it would be worth it.
The last knife pinned my heart to the mannequin and i finally, thankfully, passed out.
It was a massive shock to wake up. My body felt stiff and solid and it was an effort to move. I forced my hand up, seeing the alabaster skin of the Quiet People, and I smiled a little.
Izzy was suddenly in front of me, stroking my arms, and i realized the stiffness was from inactivity as pins and needles burst through me. Hands hit me all over, massaging life back into me, helping me to wake up.
I blinked and let out a shaky breath, tumbling into their arms. They eased me down to sit, still squeezing and soothing my aches.
Izzy sat down next to me, a tentative smile on her face. “We weren't sure you were going to make it, Evan. You slept for a week.”
I licked my lips, staring down at myself. I raised my shirt and looked at my stomach. I had washboard abs and a tiny waist, and when I raised it higher, I saw a faint line over my heart, a slightly darker mark that was barely visible. The place the knife had stabbed me. I looked at my hands and feet and found the little lines there too, shivers ripping through me.
“If...there's food. A party to celebrate you pulling through.” Izzy was not looking directly at me, and it hit me like a lightning bolt. My last memory of her was of her stabbing me twelve times. She thought I hated her.
“Hey,” I whispered, my voice cracked and rough. I touched her arm and she flinched. “Thank you.”
Izzy blinked and looked up at me, a hopeful smile on her face. It faded a moment later.
“You…” she swallowed and looked away. “You shouldn't thank me. I almost killed you.”
“But you didn't?”
Izzy stood up, holding her hand out to me. “Come on. I need to...i need to tell you some things. And then...then you can make up your mind.”
I nodded and took her hand, grunting as I stood up. As it woke up more and more, my body felt stronger, easier. I smiled and stretched, feeling comfortable in my skin for the first time in my life.
She led me out to one of the sitting areas, on a balcony overlooking the food court. She curled up in a chair and I scooted another chair around so I could sit next to her.
“I have been risking your life for a long time now,” she said softly. “A year and a day is the longest a human can live with us. After that, even one day more, and they die. The human world can’t sustain them any longer. Food stops nourishing them, any food. Air stops strengthening them. Light stops sustaining them. They waste to death in a matter of days, weeks if they're strong. And the closer you get to that deadline, the worse your chances of being able to return to the human world. Even if you survive returning fully, you'll be sickly all your life. And at that point you lack the strength to survive the change. Even after six months, it's 50/50 that you can pull through the ritual.”
I shivered. “I...wow. So...my chances of surviving that were-”
“Miraculous,” she whispered.
I felt cold in the pit of my stomach. “Then why-”
“Because I was...certain. Arrogant. I was sure you were family. I ignored the others pleading to let you go. I clung to the hope that any day now, you would ask to stay, or tell me your name, or ask how any of this was possible. That you would show that hint that would let me guide you to us. And every day you got a little closer to a horrible death, and I let you, because I lov...because i was sure. You've been a dead man walking for months now because I couldn't let you go.”
I stared at my hands, shaking as I realized how close i'd been to dying. “Why not tell me? Why not just ask me to stay?”
Izzy sighed. “You have to choose us freely, Evan. And you have to trust your maker implicitly enough that I could stab you repeatedly and you'd still believe that i meant well. I...I was almost sure, there at the end, that i was just butchering you. That you had already died and i was just putting you out of your misery. When you didn't wake up, i thought that you'd regretted or lost faith at the end, or that i'd simply pulled you too far to make it. Even forcing the choice on you as I did, i took a huge risk that you would die.”
I swallowed, squeezing my hands together. “Oh.”
Izzy nodded, wiping her eyes. “You have every right to hate me. You should hate me. And i understand if you don't ever want to speak to me again.”
She stood up and started to walk away and i grabbed her wrist gently. I blinked as i realized i'd moved from sitting to three feet from the chair without a second thought. I grinned and turned her to face me.
“I don't, though.” I said softly. “What would it have been like if you'd let me go?”
She shivered, not looking at me. “A kiss on the lips, and all of this would have felt like a dream. You would have lost your drive to visit us, lost interest in this place. In time you would have forgotten us entirely.”
I nodded, reaching out to take her other hand.
“Izzy...the night that you found me, i was hiding here because if i went home, i would have killed myself.”
Her head jerked up, eyes wide with shock.
“The clan has been the only thing keeping me alive, Izzy. You're my family, my only real one. If you'd sent me away, i'd have been dead in a month, from that sickness or by slitting my wrists, whichever came first.”
My hands slid up her arms, feeling her soft skin hungrily. “When the last knife went in, I'd accepted it. I never wanted my life. I was ready to die. And even if i'd chosen wrong, i would have rather died knowing real family than died alone.”
Izzy sniffled, and suddenly pulled me into a hard hug. I could feel her shaking, and i wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight.
“You didn't choose wrong. You kept me alive. You saved me, Izzy. You saved me and you've given me a chance at a real life with people i actually care about.” I pulled back and looked her in the eye so she could see i meant it. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you Isadora World Trade. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for giving me all the time you could get your hands on. Thank you for risking everything to save me.”
Izzy blushed and smiled at me a little. “I'm so happy you made it, Evan Alexander Lids.”
I snickered. “Lids? You couldn't have put me in with the Penney's or the Dillards or the Sears or the Macy's? I’m like, the only Lids there is!”
She grinned a little sadly. “Everyone was sure you weren't going to make it and...and they didn't want to see you every night, dead because of my mistakes. So...I picked a new shop with only one person.”
I shivered and nodded. “Ok, no more maudlin crap. I made it. That's what matters.”
Izzy nodded. “And besides, you can move if you want? That's what we do when a store closes, just shuffle people around with potentials.”
I hummed. “Kinda attracted to the thought of being one of a kind. And having my own house all to myself.”
She giggled. “Then be a proud Lids, Evan.”
I nodded and looked down at her, grinning slightly. “Now, did i hear you almost say you loved me?”
Izzy blushed so deeply she looked like one of the Wet Seals. “Um.”
I reached up and stroked her lips, shivering. “Because i'd really, really like to kiss you.”
She grinned and leaned up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine.