They slipped through the maintenance stairwell, Dancer prowling ahead on silent claws. Johnquis felt the hum in his bones before he heard it, that damn "Seaside Savings" jingle drifting up through the cracks like a lullaby from hell.
"♫ Where every day's a sunny day… come down to Seaside Savings! ♫"
His feet hit the next landing. One more flight down. The air tasted… sweet? Like fake cotton candy on stale air-conditioning. The moment they pushed through the stairwell door, it slammed into him: a whole shopping floor, untouched. Or pretending to be.
He froze in the doorway, chain slack in his fist. Dancer eased up beside him, hackles bristling.
