After a youth which included lighting smudge pots in orchards in the middle of the night, being assistant librarian in a research library and News Director at a radio station, and being taught to kayak by the Polish secret police, Berry Kercheval has been herding computers in Silicon Valley for many years. After two technical books, he's recently started writing fiction since you can make it all up. Recent stories have appeared in Helix, a quarterly specfic e-zine, and Witch Way to the Mall. He lives in Palo Alto, CA, with his wife, kids and too many British sports cars.
Justin got off the bus and looked across the parking lot at the Tri-City Mall. Today was the first day of his summer internship with mall security. Mater Ruth, his Witch School teacher, had arranged for him to work here over the summer "for the experience." She had been pretty cagey about just what kind of experience he was supposed to get. It wasn't magic, that was clear. At the thought, he patted his pocket where he kept his silver athame and wand. Mater Ruth said it was important to keep them with him at all times so they'd get "attuned to his aura" or something. Still, the money would be nice even if it was barely above minimum wage. It would certainly be different working in the mall instead of just hanging out there.
As he started across the lot to the mall entrance, he saw Veronica, the nice lady from Pizza Barn, walking ahead of him. Justin liked Veronica; she always remembered he liked extra mushrooms on his slice and would often have it warming in the oven before he had crossed the length of the food court to the pizza stand.
As he watched, Veronica passed behind a van, but didn't come out on the other side. Justin heard a scream. He ran to one of the "panic button" posts the mall management had installed that spring and pulled the handle. A Klaxon began to honk and a blue light flashed at the top of the post.
Justin ran over to the van to see what had happened to Veronica. As he turned the corner, he saw her starting to sit up from the ground. A very large dog was backing away. Justin pulled out his wand, flourished it at the dog and shouted, "Stupefy!"
A stream of sparkles came from the end of his wand and fell to the ground near his feet. This is harder to do when you know it's supposed to be hard, he thought.
The dog lolled its tongue. Justin was sure it was laughing at him. It turned and went running down the aisle of the parking lot. As Justin knelt to help Veronica, it turned between two cars and vanished.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"The dog, it attacked me! Madre de Dios, I was scared. I fell down, then he ran when the noise started. Thank you!" She hugged him and began to cry.
A pair of men dressed in the navy blue polo shirts and khaki trousers of Mall Security came running up. "Is everyone OK? What happened?" asked the one whose name tag read HI, MY NAME'S PHIL!
Between Veronica's outbursts, Justin explained what he had seen and pointed to where the dog had disappeared.
"Tom, go check it out. See if you can find any trace of this dog."
The other security man barked "Yes sir!" and trotted down the aisle, going back and forth across the dog's path, and turned at the same spot the dog had.
Phil turned his attention back to Veronica, who had stopped crying and was picking up her purse and sweater from the asphalt. "Will you be all right now, ma'am?" he asked.
She nodded, and then exclaimed "Santa Maria! I will be late!" and hurried off to the mall entrance.
"And you, sir," Phil said to Justin, "thanks for sounding the alarm."
"You're welcome, Mr. Harris," Justin replied. Phil raised one corner of his thick eyebrow and Justin continued, "I'm Justin, your new intern. Mat . . . Mrs. Thompson sent me."
"Oh, you're Ruth's young fellow! Welcome. Come with me to the office and we'll get you started."
Phil punched a code into the lock on the plain door at the end of a service corridor between Pottery Hut and Namaste Video, and let Justin into the Security office of Tri-City Mall. It was pretty plain. On one side, a rack of monitors showed views from security cameras in the mall and the parking lot. A couple of desks, a battered couch, and a few storage cabinets completed the furnishings. A white board had a list of names and shift assignments, and next to it a bulletin board held the legally mandated minimum wage poster and a collection of snapshots of people under the legend BANNED. An open door led to a locker room.
Besides the main room and the locker room, there was a storage room with neatly stacked equipment: spare radios, Mall Security polo shirts, and emergency gear—a portable defibrillator, some folding stretchers and a couple of industrial-sized—no, make that mall-sized—firstaid kits.
"I hope we never have to use these babies, but if we ever do we're ready," said Phil. "Do you have your first-aid certification with you?"
Justin produced the card from his wallet. The weekend class Mater Ruth had made him take had been a bit boring, but it was a good feeling to know that he could help people in a crunch. "I'm doing the advanced course this fall."
"That's great. We seldom get more than stumbles and bruises, or a cut or burn from the food court workers. They usually handle those themselves," said Phil. "OK, let's get you kitted out."
Phil collected a radio, a polo shirt, and a mysterious device about the size and shape of a small flashlight from the shelf, and showed Justin where his locker was.
"You met Tom, sort of. The rest of the day shift is out patrolling. Let's walk around, I'll show you the drill, and we'll meet them as we go, OK?" Phil looked Justin directly in his eyes. Slightly uncomfortable, Justin dropped his gaze and said, "Um, OK, sure." When he glanced back, Phil was smiling.
They left the Security office and walked out into the mall. As they toured the mall, Phil showed Justin how to hold the flashlight device over inconspicuous tabs attached to the walls of the mall. "RFID tags in the tabs register a time stamp in this gizmo. This way, the management can verify we've been doing our patrols."
Outside the Beach, Bar and Bed shop they found the other Security man from the parking lot watching the crowd.
"Tom," Phil said.
"Sir," Tom replied, looking down. "Apart from the parking lot incident, everything's quiet today."
"Good. This enterprising young fellow turns out to be Justin, the intern I mentioned yesterday."
Tom shook hands with Justin. "Glad to meet you, Justin. We're all interested to see how you work out." He had a strong grip, and Justin let go first to escape the discomfort. Tom rolled his shoulders and grinned.
"I'm showing Justin the ropes," said Phil. "See you in the office at the end of the shift."
They walked on into the mall atrium and passed the Tot Shot photo kiosk. Justin smiled, remembering how he and Mo had chased a demon there last spring.
Phil tapped Justin on the shoulder. "There, over by the fountain. What do you see?"
Justin looked. A man in a flannel shirt and jeans was talking with a young woman with long blond hair and a tight sleeveless top. The man was waving his arms and edging closer to the woman, who was trying to back away.
"Looks like they're having a fight. Could it be trouble?" Justin asked.
Phil nodded. "Yes, it could. This is one of the main things we have to watch out for. So far they're OK, but if he crosses the line . . . "
The man started poking the woman on the chest. She raised her arms to protect herself, and he shoved her back. She stumbled into a bench and sat down.
"You mean like that?" asked Justin. He turned to Phil, but the tall man was already halfway to the couple.
"Excuse me sir, ma'am. I'm with Mall Security. Are you folks all right?"
"Stay out of this, rent-a-cop. This is between me and my woman."
" 'Your woman,"' exclaimed the woman. "We're not even dating. He came over and started trying to pick me up, but I just want him to leave me alone," she said to Phil.
"Sir, the lady wishes to be left alone. I think it's time for you to leave now." Phil tried to edge between the man and the woman.
"I'll leave when I'm good and ready, jerk. And I'm not leaving without her." He shoved Phil with both hands. Phil took a step back, tripped over the edge of the fountain and fell in. The man stood laughing as Phil floundered in his unexpected bathtub.
Justin had been watching this exchange carefully. He stepped up behind the man, poked a knuckle in his back and said, "I'm Mall Security too. Freeze, dirt bag!"
The man stopped laughing and slowly raised his hands. He started to look around but Justin poked a little harder. "Freeze, I said. Don't move."
Phil stood up in the fountain pool and shook his shoulders back and forth, spraying water around him like a soaked dog. He was clearly angry, even growling. His frown brought his bushy eyebrows together. He closed his eyes and took a deliberate deep breath. Justin could see the anger dial back from a full boil to a slow simmer.
Phil stepped out of the pool and over to the man. "I don't think our friend here is going to cause any more trouble, Justin. Are you, friend?"
Between the barely controlled anger of Phil, and Justin behind his back, the man decided that Tri-City Mall was not the best place for him right now. "No more trouble, no, I was just leaving. Babe?"
The woman refused to look at him. Phil cleared his throat and the man walked rapidly to the nearest exit.
"Are you OK, ma'am? Do you have anyone to stay with?" The woman was unhurt and gratefully declined further assistance. She departed in the opposite direction, and Phil and Justin walked back to the Security office.
"I keep a change of clothes in my locker just in case something like this happens." He used his radio to call the maintenance staff to mop up the water before anyone slipped in it. As they walked, Justin noticed an odor coming from Phil, a sort of wet-dog scent, but not quite. Phil must have a dog at home, he thought. I bet it shed on his pants.
"That was some quick thinking, Justin. But don't do something like that again; what if he had known we don't carry weapons? You could have been hurt badly if he had a knife."
Justin blushed and patted the pocket holding his athame. I never even thought of that.
Back at the office, Phil said, "It's almost lunchtime. Why don't you grab a bite at the food court and meet me back here in an hour?"
Justin entered the Coffee Spot and approached the counter.
"Justin!" exclaimed Mo. "How was your first morning in Security?"
"Veronica was attacked by a dog in the parking lot. Big brute, he was. He ran off when I pulled the alarm, and then the Security crew came and made sure she was OK. Then Mr. Harris, I mean My-Name's-Phil, showed me around and we broke up an argument. Some sleaze-ball was trying to pick up a woman who didn't want the attention. And now it's lunchtime. Hungry?"
They strolled over to the food court and got pizza slices. Veronica wouldn't let Justin pay for his.
Over the slices, Justin told Mo more about the morning's events, and how his spell had failed. Mo was a witch too; in fact it was her sloppy witch-school homework that had released the demon—more of an imp, really—and led to Justin discovering his own powers. That time, he had improvised the same "stupefy" and frozen the mischievous imp, but why didn't it work when he had a proper wand and everything?
"That's a good question for Mater Ruth next class, but I think it has to do with how much you know you should be able to do; when you didn't know you had any Talent at all, you didn't know that spell was hard; now you do and sure enough, it is. Um. Does that make sense?" Mo frowned.
"I guess so. More studying, huh?" Justin said.
"Always more studying for us witches; even Mater Ruth still studies. There's always something to learn; that's what makes the world so wonderful, she says."
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Sent to patrol on his own, Justin made the rounds, clicking his gizmo at the RFID tabs, helping people pick up dropped packages, giving directions to bewildered shoppers. Once a group of middle-school boys were acting up outside Gamer Ground, the video game store, but Justin gave them his best hard-assed-Phil stare and they moved on without incident.
At the end of his eight hours, he went back to the Security office and reported to Phil. The rest of the day shift was there, filling out time cards and incident reports for the insurance company.
"How did you like your first day?" asked Phil.
"It was OK. The morning was a bit exciting, but the afternoon was quiet."
"That's the way we like it," put in Tom from the table where he was doing his paperwork. "Quiet means happy customers; happy customers mean happy management; happy management means we keep our jobs."
Phil turned to Tom and frowned. Tom gazed at the table and said, "Sorry, sir, didn't mean to interrupt."
"OK," said Phil. "Justin, I'm afraid you'll have to be on day shifts to start. The new guy never gets his pick. I hope you understand."
Justin was surprised. Day shifts? He had expected to be put on the graveyard shift as the new guy, not days. This was terrific; he would have evenings free for Mo. And for Witch School; there was no summer vacation for junior witches and wizards. Mater Ruth said if she gave them the summer off they'd have to start over in the fall. That sounded insulting but the way Mater said it you knew she was only partly serious. Besides, it was true: what little skill he had would start to go if he didn't keep up.
"No, days are fine. I'll do what's needed."
"Good attitude. Now tomorrow morning Tom will be in charge; I'm back on nights. Eight A.M. sharp, OK?"
With that, Justin was dismissed. He left the office and was walking to the exit near the bus stop when he remembered he'd left his day pack in his locker. He turned and went back to the office. He punched the code on the lock and pushed the door open. Crossing to the locker room, he called out, "I just forgot my . . . "
Justin stopped in the doorway. In the locker room was Tom, just pulling off his shirt, and two enormous wolves.
They turned to Justin and snarled. Justin backed into the main room—or he tried to. Bob was standing behind him, blocking his escape.
Tom finished pulling off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He took a step toward Justin. "Just what do you think you're doing, you little sneak?"
Behind him, Bob closed the door. "We can make him disappear, Tom."
Justin thought fast. He remembered when he had first started Witch School, Mater Ruth had spent an amused hour telling him just what was real and what was fantasy. Witches: real. Elves: fantasy. Demons: real. Unicorns: fantasy. Werewolves . . .
Uh oh.
Real.
All the pieces fell into place: the team's strength and size, Phil's dominance of the others, even his doggy odor. They were werewolves, and he was in their nest. One in human form was behind him, Tom was in front, and two in wolf forms were approaching from the sides, growling. They crouched low and stepped closer, ready to spring. He could feel the heat of their bodies and smell the rank breath of carnivores.
Justin thought fast and took a risk. He dropped to his knees, put his hands behind his back and turned his head to the side, exposing his neck.
Tom stopped, surprised. He studied Justin for a moment and then reached out and cuffed him on the side of his head.
"OK, boy," he said, "where did you learn that submission will save you from wolves?"
Justin straightened up. "Discovery Channel. There was this special program . . . "
Everyone laughed. Even the wolves sat back on their haunches and lolled their tongues out.
"How did you know that would work on us?" asked Tom.
"Well, I figured that since I was only gone a minute, the wolves couldn't have come from outside, which meant they must be where; and given that, it's obvious you're high in the pack—Phil's the Alpha, right? So I figured since I was sort of a pack member—well, pack intern, OK—if I didn't want my throat torn out, submission was the only way to keep you guys from attacking me."
Phil opened the locker room door and stood in the doorway. He'd been listening since Justin came in.
"Smart kid," he said. "But why were you so quick to assume we're werewolves? Most people, it's hard to convince them even when you Change in front of them. You didn't see the Change but you figured it out anyway."
"Oh, that's easy," said Justin. "I've seen a few weird things. I'm a witch." He pulled out his wand, gestured, and a spray of flowers erupted from the wand's tip and then faded from sight.
"Wow!" said Tom.
"Yeah," said Phil. "Pretty cool, but I knew you were a witch; Ruth and I go way back. I was going to wait to see what you were like before fully briefing you, but events have forced matters. Still, no harm done, right, fellows?"
His voice took on an edge of command and the rest of the team, human and wolf alike, nodded obedience.
"Well, Justin, now that you know our little secret you can help with a problem we have. You remember that Veronica was attacked in the parking lot this morning."
"Veronica from Pizza Barn? I remember. She's OK, isn't she?"
"Yes, she's OK," said Phil. "When you hit the panic button, it scared off the perp, and our team was there in seconds."
"So what's the big deal? I mean, it's terrible that Veronica was attacked, but the dog was scared off, right? End of story."
"Not the end of the story." Phil tapped his nose. "We smelled him. Very distinctive."
"So if he shows up again you call animal control, right?"
"Well, no. You see, he's a were too. He wasn't after cash, or even rape—he wanted blood. We could smell the Hunger on his scent."
A couple of the guys from the night shift were nodding. "It's a werewolf thing," Bob said. "Even in human form we can smell things humans can't."
Phil explained that as Security, they had the run of the mall at night, and being able to Change and run more or less at will made the Hunger controllable; a rogue were that had to try to stay in human shape all the time got a bit crazy during the full moon.
"I get it," said Justin. "Apart from it being terrible if he killed Veronica, or anyone else, you guys could lose your sweet gig here at the mall. But wait . . . " Justin frowned. "What about the security cameras? If you guys are running around in wolf form, won't you show up on the tapes?"
The pack laughed. "Hey, we control the surveillance system. We've got a video file showing Bob in human form making his rounds, and if anyone asks for a tape, we update the time stamps, run off a tape, and give them that," said Phil.
"But what if someone breaks in? What happens to them?"
"In a mall full of werewolves? We happen to them. It's our job to protect the mall and everyone in it. We take it seriously." A couple of the guys growled agreement. Justin was suddenly glad he was on their side.
Justin thought for a moment. "Back to the rogue were. I'm going to guess tracking him didn't work, or we wouldn't be here."
"Right," said Tom, "We tracked him halfway across the lot and then his scent suddenly disappeared. We think he got into a car, Changed to human, and took off."
"So I guess we have to set a trap."
Phil looked at Justin and slowly smiled. "Good idea, kid. Here's what we're going to do."
Justin stood in the mall entrance. "Are you sure this is going to work?" he asked. The lapel mic on his hooded sweatshirt picked it up, and the radio squawked its reply into the earpiece hidden by the hood.
"Well, no, kid," replied Phil, "but it's our best shot, and you'll be perfectly safe; the guys are hidden in parked cars all the way to the bus stop and we're all listening."
"Well, OK, but I still don't see why I have to be the bait."
"No offense, kid, but you're the wimpiest of us all."
Justin sighed. He was in pretty decent shape for a senior, but Phil had a point: he wasn't a werewolf. He put his hands in his pockets to keep them warm in the cool night air and stepped off the curb.
"Here goes, then. I'm leaving the entry and heading for the bus stop."
"Roger that," replied Phil.
For the next hour, Justin trudged out to the bus stop with evening shoppers—"Try to look a little more vulnerable, kid!"—-sat there as if waiting for a bus, and then got up and trudged back to the mall. "Slump more!"
On his sixth trip, Justin was beginning to wonder if the ploy was going to work, when as he passed a parked SUV, a hand reached out from underneath and tripped him. Hands still in his pockets. Justin fell to the pavement and the owner of the hand was out from under the SUV and on top of him in an instant. "Aaah!" Justin cried out, and in his earpiece heard Phil ask, "You OK, kid?"
"No! No, I'm not OK!" he cried as the man sat on top of him. He bent over and put a hand to Justin's throat as if looking for the best spot to rip it open. Somehow, I don't think submission is going to work here, Justin thought. He felt in his pocket for the athame. It was razor sharp—that was important, symbolically, and magic was big on symbols—and even better, it was silver. He wrenched it free from his pocket, but couldn't bring it to bear easily.
"That's OK," said the man. "I like it when you struggle. The fear makes the meat sweeter." His face started to lengthen. Hair grew out of his cheeks and forehead and a wolf's ripping fangs emerged from his mouth. He bent lower and growled in Justin's face.
As the rogue shifted his weight, Justin pulled his hand from under the creature's leg, and stabbed the athame into his calf.
"Aroooo!" His face snapped back to human and he howled in pain. Clutching his wounded leg, he fell off Justin. "What did you cut me with, you little bastard? It burns!"
Justin sat up and put the silver athame to the rogue werewolf's throat. A wisp of smoke from the rogue's throat spiraled up between them. "This is an athame, the sharpest knife a witch can use, and it's made of pure silver forged in the light of the full moon. Do you feel lucky?"
When Phil, Tom and the rest of the team came pounding up the parking lot lane, they found the rogue wolf cowering against the SUV, with Justin holding the silver knife at his throat. "I'll go quietly, whatever you want, but just get this crazy kid away from me!" he pleaded with Phil.
Phil took in the scene, and laughed. "Good work, kid!" he said. "We'll take it from here."
"What will happen to him?" Justin stood up. The rogue's nostrils flared as he smelled the crew and realized that not only was he in the hands of Mall Security, but that they were all werewolves except Justin.
"Oh, crap," said the rogue.
"Well, kid," Phil replied to Justin without breaking his stare with the rogue, "a wolf that enters another pack's territory and causes trouble has two options. Submit and join the pack, or die. Lucky for you, pal, you haven't really hurt anyone yet so you get to choose. Stand up, Justin, and let him make his choice."
Justin stood up and took a step back. The rogue were sighed, broke the gaze with Phil and rolled over onto his back. Phil knelt and nipped at his throat. "OK, we're good. Come on buddy, let's get you patched up and have a talk. If you want, we can help you stay out of trouble, or give you bus fare out of town. But if not . . . " He left the unspoken threat hanging.
They all started back to the mall. Justin said, "Is that it for the day? Can I go home? I'm feeling pretty tired."
"Yeah, the excitement will do that. Enjoy your first action, kid? You did pretty good for a witch."
"Is it always this exciting?" Justin asked.
Phil laughed. "No, this is unusual. Usually it's mostly lost kids and rowdy teenagers when the movies let out, but we need to be ready for anything. See you tomorrow."
"Thanks," said Justin. He entered the mall with the crew but turned toward the Coffee Spot where Mo was working the late shift.
"How was your day?" she asked, making him a cafe mocha.
"Hairy!" said Justin.