Wrecking-ball-bound Collin Creek Mall will rumble one last time Friday night with a 1980s vibe as a nostalgic public — some traveling from out of state and others vowing to arrive on roller skates — gets a chance to say goodbye to the retail relic.

Trying to avoid the crowds and make my last visit earlier in the week, I instead unexpectedly ran into a totally different kind of mob scene: blood-covered, ripped-clothing-clad zombies chasing terrified victims through the Plano shopping center’s barrel-vaulted emptiness.

Antonia DeNardo, who owns Lewisville-based DTV Studios, had brought her summer movie camp to the lifeless mall this week to film its final production. She lived in Plano as a child and was excited to share some of Collin Creek’s history with her young actors.

“Now we’ll have film footage of the abandoned mall that will stay in our hearts just like the memories,” DeNardo told me as she and her actors headed to the exit. The gleaming-yet-dead space then returned to a spooky quiet — except for the disembodied voices from advertising kiosks playing to the empty bright-white hallways.

The scene was akin to watching Stranger Things overrun The Breakfast Club — an allegory of the rise and fall of Collin Creek Mall and the many other shopping centers dying similar deaths.

Kids from DTV Studios, including actors Caden Smith, Jacob Pasteur, Kailyn Machado and director Curt Mega (far right,) film a scene inside the empty Collin Creek Mall in Plano, Wednesday, July 24, 2019. The student film summer camp is using the abandoned mall to shoot "The Experiment," a short film made in conjunction with Gray Studios in Los Angeles. (Tom Fox / Staff photographer)

The mall is about to lock its doors for good as Mehrdad Moayedi's Centurion America — responsible for the redo of the Statler Hotel in Downtown Dallas, where The Dallas Morning News has its offices —begins a total rebuild of the property. More than half the mall, built in 1981 and stuck in a financial skid for two decades, will be torn down for the $1-billion mixed-use development with new offices, residential, hotel and retail.

If you read the comments posted by the more than 7,000 subscribers to a public Facebook page paying homage to Collin Creek, you’d wonder why it failed. While lots of people mourn the passing of a mall they associate with more innocent times and a smaller, less-bustling Plano, the harsh truth is that Collin Creek was abandoned for the next new things — Stonebriar Centre and The Shops at Willow Bend.

But none of that has stopped daily nostalgic pilgrimages.

On the second level, Troy and Sheridan Norlin, with two young daughters in tow, peered through decorative wrought ironwork trying to remember the name of the Mexican restaurant — Tino’s — that Troy remembered visiting as a child. The Norlins live in Greenville, but for reasons they said they couldn’t quite articulate, “we wanted to see this place one last time.”

Also in the mall Wednesday were Abdul and Rozida Hassan, who live nearby and walk a 1.6-mile route through Collin Creek’s corridors twice a day. They told me the mall was “a jewel” in its heyday and that they are sorry to see the space go.

Molly Blonn, who visited Collin Creek Mall Wednesday with her two young sons, and mother, Shawna Kealy, experienced many teen rites of passage at Plano's Collin Creek Mall. Blonn grew up in Plano, where she and her husband have returned to raise their family. (Tom Fox / Staff photographer)

I took my final walk down this mall’s memory lane with Molly Blonn, her mother, Shawna Kealy, and two of Molly’s three young sons. Blonn, 33, grew up in Plano. She and her mom were a walking Wikipedia of Collin Creek’s past. As we made our way through the mall, they played a guessing game of what used to be where.

The names of the stores that came and went reflect the march of time’s changing stories and trends: Tilt Arcade, Laura Ashley, KB Toys, Chess King, Camelot Music, Orange Julius, Things Remembered. And, of course, the venerable Tino’s Mexican restaurant.

“It was the suburbs,” Blonn said. “It was the only place to go. You’d go to the movie, or you’d go to the mall or you’d get lucky and do both in the same outing.”

Her ideal summer day in sixth or seventh grade: “$20 from my mom and five hours here. Coming home not knowing where either the money or time went — virtually, home with a Cinnabon and a new pair of earrings from Claire’s.”

Many of Blonn’s rites of passage came during visits to Collin Creek: getting her ears pierced, the excitement of going somewhere without parental supervision, her first paying job (at the Disney Store), where lunch breaks consisted of sweets from Great American Cookies.

A sign informs people that Amazing Jake's is permanently closed in Collin Creek Mall in Plano.. From 6-9 p.m. Friday, the mall is having an 1980s-themed party to celebrate the mall's past as it prepares to close for good July 31. (Tom Fox / Staff photographer)

She laughed at the memories. Experimenting with the spritz at Abercrombie & Fitch and gawking at how thin the models there were. Rolling her eyes over her crew of girlfriends giggling outside Victoria’s Secret before venturing in — as if they actually planned to purchase a bra. And perhaps funniest of all, the time she had photos taken with one of her best friends at Glamour Shots.

“The best part of that was walking around the mall after getting dolled up,” Blonn said. “We thought we were the coolest.”

Kealy’s memories are, well, much more mom-centric. For years, part of Spring Creek flowed through a portion of the mall — tricked out with bridges and fountains. One day when Molly was in kindergarten, Kealy was at the mall with her two younger children, ages 4 and 2, who eventually tired of playing at the creek and begged to return to the nearby Disney Store.

“I said, ‘We’ve already been there.’ Then I blinked, and they were gone,” Kealy said.

Kealy hustled over a few yards to the Disney Store but couldn’t find the kids. After checking nearby shops, she contacted security and the mall was immediately locked down. “A police officer took me back to the Disney Store and he called their names.” This time, they both emerged from under one of the mountains of stuffed animals.

“They knew they were in trouble,” Kealy said.

Passing by empty stores, housekeeper Juana Lemoine polishes the floor of an empty Collin Creek Mall in Plano. The owners plan on tearing down almost half the mall, opening up what's left to the outside and adding mixed-use buildings. The $1 billion project will include new apartments, hotel rooms, restaurants, office buildings and entertainment venues. (Tom Fox / Staff photographer)

Although Blonn had not been back to Collin Creek for many years, Kealy was last here about 18 months ago to order a built-in microwave and vents from Sears. She told me that when she needs to make a large purchase, she goes to Sears’ Frisco location because it has a better selection on display. “But I want my tax dollars to go to Plano. Frisco put this place out of business.”

But Kealy, like Blonn, is ready for what’s to come in the old Collin Creek’s place.

Blonn said she found the mall visit surreal and weird — similar to her past year, which has brought her back to Plano, where she never expected to live again, much less raise a family.

After she left Texas for college at Notre Dame University and worked as a recruiter for a law firm, Blonn led an extremely urban lifestyle in Chicago before moving to Houston. When her law firm decided to open an office in Dallas, the allure of quality schools and her mom’s helping hands tempted the Blonn family to Plano.

She and her husband love the walkability of the little pockets of development, such as Legacy West, emerging in Plano.

The loss of the frilly white ironwork-adorned Collin Creek of her youth is a small price to pay — after all, she still has her memories. And like all of us, she hopes the developers will be able to preserve at least part of the iconic tile mural on what was originally the Sanger-Harris store.

Blonn was glad to see it all one last time, but “there’s an overwhelmingness to it, seeing it so empty and quiet and sad” — aside from the brief Zombie invasion.

Young mothers have all too few moments for reflection. The children’s small cries, echoing off the cavernous walls, reminded Blonn it was time to get moving — it was well past dinnertime.

“Too bad the food court isn’t still open,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “There’s plenty of spots to sit in the food court, which never used to be the case.”