The group rushed back to Violet and Amy who were still tending to Matthew. Emilio immediately began to fill his wife in on the situation. Amy simply nodded. There was no skepticism. She simply took her husband at his word and went back to the task of keeping Matthew responsive.

Matthew's feet were elevated, resting on the platform where the first row of tiered seating began. It was hard to tell if his eyes were open with the darkness so settled around them. Violet kept her hand on his chest to make sure it was still rising and falling.

Violet threw her voice in the general direction of the group who were descending towards them. "Matt let us know he's 19. He's got two cuts. One on the lower abdomen, one on the arm. It's hard to tell how bad his abdomen really is, but his arm will need stitches. Or at least, the closest we can get to stitches. What he needs is pain relief and antibiotics. We need rubber gloves."

The room was shocked into silence at the sudden assertiveness of the young looking girl who had been quiet up until this time.

Emilio broke the silence with a quip, "Diary of a call girl suddenly got the Doctor Barbie upgrade?"

"I'm a med student. My parents were poor. Now they're dead. Centrelink pays $400 under the poverty line. I like nice things. Unless you have any other fantastic one liners, shut the hell up and get us what we need. If we're here for three days, I'd rather not be sharing a room with necrotic tissue." She retorted bluntly as Victor's backpack began rustling beside her.

Emilio yelled in the direction of the rustling, squaring up for a confrontation as he tried to squint into the darkness. "Get back, you little psycho."

Victor's pale skin made it almost impossible for him to act undetected in the dark, "I'd imagine that light would be a good idea if we're going to sew up wounds." He walked toward the mountain that was Emilio's shadow and shoved a rough, cylindrical object into his hand. "It's a beeswax candle. This is the only thing that will produce light for us."

Victor proceeded to find Gowan and gave him the second candle. He left the third on the floor with Amy, Violet, and Matt.

"Anyone got a light?" A sentence Gowan had never pictured himself saying.

Violet was already trying to flick a lighter, but the sharp noises of the flint simply sprung through the cavernous theatre with no accompanying flame. Not even a spark. "I bought this yesterday, what the hell?"

A second, more surreptitious click softly left the darkness on the floor.

"Mine's out too." Amy's voice disappointedly whispered from beside Violet.

For the first time, even after seeing a cranky sugar-daddy evaporate in a parking lot due to supernatural causes, Emilio seemed genuinely shaken, "Babe, why do you have that?"

The clicks of Amy's lighter became louder with each impotent attempt to start a flame before she let out a frustrated sigh and began to throw sharp words at her husband, "I'm smoking in the bathroom when I can get away with it. Ok? It's called coping. Can we please focus on the kid bleeding out right now?"

Emilio turned back to Victor's general direction, "Ok Crypt Keeper, we don't have time for this shit. Fast forward to the seventh day or what-the-fuck ever and let there be light."

"It's too late. I thought these candles would keep light because they are blessed. The prophecy said they'd keep alight for the full three days. I hadn't considered what would happen if they did not get lit prior to the other light sources being taken away. We are trapped as shapes in the darkness."

Elizabeth had always loved puzzles. "What if we can light it without fire? Like a battery and a chewy wrapper. The kind with foil on one side. That's how they do it in jail."

A row of chairs rattled as Emilio struck them in frustration, "Oh, great. We're stuck in here with the kid from The Omen AND a jailbird."

"I'm a single woman in my early 30s. True crime podcasts and prison doccos are my evergreen versions of..." She searched her mind for something that would likely resonate with a headstrong man high on his own testosterone, "... State of Origin. Whatever. We can't just sit here helpless in the dark for three days."

Gowan's hand fell gently on her shoulder.

Victor spoke, "You will only need to take one candle with you. Just in case anything happens. If you light one, it will not melt or go out as long as you pray over it first. Bring it back and we can light the others."

"Emilio?" Gowan asked into the void, "We could really use extra hands on this one."

"And leave the kid who stabbed someone alone with my wife? Tough luck, mate," He scoffed back.

Elizabeth backed up Gowan, "The grocery store doors are massive. I don't think we'll be able to get in without some strength behind us."

The young man on the floor finally said something through his groans, "Please go. My boyfriend. He's still out there." He let out a sharp breath as Violet guided him back down from the one good elbow he had propped himself up on, "Please. If he's hurt..."

A tense silence filled the room until Matthew grunted in pain as he moved again. Violet tried to soothe him with gentle words. The clothing they were using to keep his wounds closed made hideous noises as the women tending to him tried to find dry spaces that remained in the material. The smell of iron filled the air.

"Honey," Amy urged, "I'll be fine."

Emilio sighed. "I guess if I go we can carry more shit." He mumbled, walking towards the sound of Elizabeth conferring with Violet over what was required from the pharmacy that was near the grocery store.

Violet had verbally given Elizabeth a list that she muttered to herself over and over again as she walked up the slanted flooring to the back exit of the cinema. The heavy door was lugged open and Emilio, Gowan, and Elizabeth walked into the pitch black.

Both the grocery store and pharmacy were on the ground floor of the building. One by one, feeling their way down the still escalator, they shuffled downwards. Elizabeth took Gideon's car keys out of her pocket and dangled the key ring from her fingers so that the jingling keys could help the pair locate her if they got disoriented.

She reached into her distant memories from being a Candles n' Things employee who had to traverse the corridors of the shopping centre almost every day. Her muscle memory surprised her. Her mind was cast back to a time that a customer told her that they purposely designed shopping centres to be dizzying, like casinos, so that you were more likely to get disoriented and shop for longer. Even when they weren't at the whim of the cloudy glass sunroof, it took many months of working there to really get the layout of the place down pat. Apparently though, once the layout was burned into her brain, even years later, it was a permanent core memory.

She wondered if the necessity for menial labour, and all of the novelty stories that followed a stint in customer service, was now the reason there was no room for actual intellectual skills. Math. Science. Hard skills. Subjective skills. The only skill she could really market was empathy and that was draining and did not pay well.

They reached the grocery store to find the large, security roller-doors down and locked, as expected. Emilio walked up and began to bang on them. The clangs echoed in the entanglement of empty corridors.

Gowan rushed over, speaking in hushed tones, "Dude, what are you doing?"

"Getting us inside. We need the fucking light." He continued to let his frustration out on the doors.

Elizabeth stood frozen. She wanted him to stop, but she couldn't get her body to move.

Gowan touched his shoulder gingerly, as if he was calming down a child mid-tantrum. "I get that you're frustrated, but we don't know what's in there. We don't even know what's out here!"

Elizabeth began to briskly walk again. The movement made the other two stopped bickering as they watched her continue through the maze of corridors and closed stores before following.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

She explained herself, "The Home Store has batteries in the office supplies section and gum at the registers. They have glass windows. Emilio, let's put you to real work."

They arrived at The Home Store. At least, the two men trusted that Elizabeth had lead them to The Home Store. It was impossible to tell. Emilio had grabbed a chair from a closed up cafe kiosk nearby. As much as he'd love to punch through the glass, they already had one guy bleeding out.

Elizabeth and Gowan stood back as Emilio tried to throw the chair through the large, glass window. A crack was heard but there was no shatter. Emilio slowly walked toward the window, grasping around the space where he suspected the chair to be. Once he found it he tried a second time.

The chair was heavy and steel. This time it broke through. Gowan passed him a second chair which he used to make sure their entrance through the broken glass was free of any jagged edges. The ease at which he did this was like waving a stick on a bushwalk to clear the path of cobwebs. With a somewhat surprising softness, he guided Elizabeth and Gowan through the broken glass until they were safe on the other side. Elizabeth was just glad she'd chosen to wear flats on the date instead of heels.

Making their way to the office section was more of a challenge. They found a number of different batteries that they took with them as they walked towards the cash registers to find the gum.

As it turned out, more gum had changed to paper wrappers these days. The smell of peppermint lingered in the air as packet after packet was opened from the different brands. Gowan disturbed the gum-opening monotony with an exclamation.

"FINALLY!" He'd found a foil wrapper. "Ok, now what do we do?"

Elizabeth took the candle that she'd perched on one of the checkouts and an AA battery, and walked towards the sound of Gowan's voice. She miscalculated, feeling the warmth of his chest warning her that she had ventured too far forward.

For just a moment she lingered. She knew his cologne. It was the same kind as her ex-ex-ex-ex-boyfriend wore. Who knows how many exes ago. It smelled earthy and yet slightly sweet. It took her back to lonely mornings, after nights with men that promised to call her but never did. Every time.

The rough material of his jacket rustled as she forced herself backwards, fumbling for the wrapper in his hand that had managed to get trapped between them.

She gingerly took the wrapper and tried to align the middle of the folded foil with the candle wick. Gowan took the candle to free up one of her hands to connect the foil with the two ends of the battery. Without light, the wrapper smoldered away before the candle wick caught alight. They tried again with the same results. An exasperated Emilio stepped between the two and took the candle from Gowan, lining it up with a slight crease he made in the next gum wrapper before giving Elizabeth the go-ahead to try again.

Finally a small flame illuminated the space in front of them. Elizabeth bounced excitedly before stopping herself and turning to Gowan, "Oh! Whats-his-face said we have to pray over it so it will stay lit!"

"Sounds like a crock of shit." Emilio scoffed, looking almost sinister as the flame illuminated him from below. He paused for a moment as his face softened with a subtle-but-proud smile. "But whatever floats ya." Emilio shifted his weight awkwardly while Elizabeth and Gowan's eyes met across the darkness.

Gowan took a deep breath. His voice, usually tuned to a friendly frequency to herd the teenagers in youth groups, changed to a deeper and more authoritative tone.

"Our Father in heaven,

Hallowed be your name,

Your kingdom come,

Your will be done,

On earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and for ever.

Amen."

He didn't feel so confident on the inside, but it looked like it was good enough for Elizabeth. She echoed the "Amen" while Emilio grunted dismissively.

Elizabeth looked around at the discarded gum packets. She picked up after the others and exhaled contentedly, yet decisively. Like a piece of punctuation on their journey, crossing off one piece from the to-do list in her mind.

After they carefully stepped back over the glass, a much easier feat now that they had light, they continued their journey to find the pharmacy. It too, had a roller door. Unlike the grocery store, it was flimsy. Emilio handed the candle to Gowan and began to batter and kick one of them. Loud bangs echoed and bounced once more.

Elizabeth supposed that some people processed silently. Others processed alone. Many processed over time. Emilio was like a flashbang. He kept it all deep down, only to let it out all at once. It wasn't like breaking the window. His roars were almost primal. They were let out with pure anger and frustration. Not at the door in the way. She worked with veterans, she knew that noise. She knew that switch when it flicked. She stood to the side, holding up one hand to make sure that Gowan gave Emilio space to process.

The roller-door buckled under years of frustrations let out all at once. Emilio grabbed the bottom of the secura-door that was no longer so secure and yanked it back so they had a larger opening to get through. They made their way to the "Prescriptions" counter, only to be met with a door to where they assumed the good stuff was kept.

As Elizabeth went to grab the store-issued baskets for easier carry, Emilio gave Gowan the heads up to stand back again as he walked towards a chair in the waiting area near the prescription desk. Once again, with the intention of using it as a tool to break the window in the door to the back room. He lined up the chair, focusing on the glass. He pulled back. Just before he swung, his blood went cold.

The horizontal venetian blinds behind the glass panel in the door clacked together and two eyes peered out. The figure snapped shut the metal blinds as the candlelight cast the shadow of the chair over the walls. Emilio put down the chair slowly. He had seen fear like that before.

He looked to Elizabeth and gestured at the door, "Mate, you better take this one."

She didn't know why he had asked her, but nonetheless she tentatively approached the door, "Hello? Is someone there? I'm Elizabeth, and the men with me are Gowan and Emilio." The figure behind the door did not reply. She continued as softly as she could while allowing her voice to be heard through the door, "We are looking for medical supplies. There is someone with us who is very hurt. Can you help us?"

After a moment of stillness, the blinds clicked against the glass before the door handle began to rattle. Elizabeth stepped backwards and the handle slowly turned. The slate coloured door creaked open as the figure stepped into the light. Her dark eyes darted between the three.

Her shaky hands fidgeted with her white blouse. Her nametag read "Masina". Even with her sensible leather flats, she was less than a head shorter than Emilio. Her breathing remained shallow. She did not speak.

Elizabeth walked up to her and continued to speak gently, "Masina, we're not here to hurt you. If you'd like, you can join us. I think that you could really help us make sure our friend is as safe as possible during this power outage."

She nodded. "What do you need?"

"Where do you keep the schedule 8 medications? Do you have access to them?" Elizabeth enquired.

Masina looked into the room that she had just exited from with uncertainty. "I know where they are but I don't have the key. I'm not a pharmacist. I was just here for late night shopping and to lock up but then..." She gestured vaguely.

Emilio followed Masina into the office. Gowan and Elizabeth continued to walk the aisles with baskets. They filled them with bandages, dressings, antiseptic ointments, rubber gloves, and other helpful supplies. From behind the counter they took the suture kits, paracetamol, and anything else that sounded remotely like Violet and Amy had requested.

With two filled baskets on the counter, they walked into the back room with two new baskets. Emilio and Masina were just staring at a large safe.

"We have to store the schedule 8s in here. I don't have access."

Elizabeth looked it up and down. "They didn't give you the code at all?"

"Nah. Only fully qualified pharmacists have the code. During lock up and stocktake the pharmacist locks up all the important stuff and just leaves me to do my own thing. We process any prescriptions the next morning."

"Ok. Well, while we're here, hopefully these aren't in the safe:" It pained Elizabeth to hear the words spill out so inelegantly, "I need Amock-sillin and Dock-a-sa-silan..." She tried really hard to remember.

Masina took Elizabeth into an adjoining room to show her the antibiotics. She knew what Elizabeth meant and explained that because they were only schedule 4, unlike the schedule 8 pain killers, they were just in the dispensary. Masina had done plenty of consultations for runny noses and tickly throats, but was not prepared to ever need to find the best medicine for a young adult bleeding out on a cinema floor.

"How old is he?"

"19, I think." Elizabeth was awful at telling ages as she got older.

Emilio was standing in the doorway, "He's also Asian."

Elizabeth gave him a sideways glance.

"What? Sometimes it matters."

"Probably not when his current situation is having his bleeding stopped with ripped, bloodied t-shirts."

Gowan shouted from the other room, "Hey, Masina? Is the main pharmacist old?"

She turned to face the doorway, leaning to the side to peer around Emilio who was taking up most of the door frame, "Yes?"

"Old, old?"

"How old is old, old?"

"Over 50?"

"At least one of them is."

Gowan closed his eyes and took a moment to smile. He'd worked with enough late teens in youth ministry to know what their parents were like with data security. "Could you show me which computer they use?"

Masina took Gowan over to two desktop computers sitting in the room where the safe was. He began frantically looking through papers and unsecured drawers. He smiled as he held up a tiny, spiral-bound notebook. It was beat up and the edges were frayed. He began leafing through the small pages that were already clinging for dear life to the spiral binding.

He flipped right to the back and rushed to the safe, "I knew it. I knew it!" He crouched down and began turning the lock to the correct numbers. The door to the safe heaved open.

Masina raised her eyebrows, "Nice." She crouched and began to ferret through the medications but paused, "We shouldn't be doing this. This is like... Really illegal."

Emilio had wandered back to where the action was, "I get it. I like rules too. I shit you not when I tell you we just watched a guy disintegrate in front of our very eyes. It sounds ridiculous but we were there. Right now we just need this."

Elizabeth paused for a minute, creeping back into the main room, "Wait..." She looked to Gowan, "Is... Are you ok with this? All the stuff we're stealing, I mean. Isn't stealing one of the big no-no sins."

Gowan had many years of experience with high schoolers throwing every loophole and apocalypse scenario at him. "It doesn't count. Stealing is a crime, but-" It pained him to say, "Emilio is right. Once Gideon, uh, flaked away? All bets are off. It's no longer stealing. It's scavenging. From what I've read, scavenging is ok for survival."

"And how do we survive this?" Masina asked worriedly.

Emilio began placing the handfuls of pain killer packets into one of the baskets, "Well hopefully all it takes is riding this fucker out for 3 days."