Article 5 (Article 5 #1)(43)

“I … um…” I turned to look at the door, feeling her hand tighten around mine.

“I like your hair that way,” the woman said. She moved closer to me, and I automatically stepped back.

“You … like…” I began, still too distressed by the dead animal hanging in what appeared to be her living room to finish. The dog continued to lick at the spot that had stained the patch of linoleum peeking through the dust.

“Oh, yes. I always told you it would look better short, didn’t I?”

Of all the things that had sent alarm bells ringing through my head since my arrival, this was the comment that scared me the most. It took everything I had not to push her down and run out the door.

“Miss … I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I started, jerking my hand away and bumping into the coatrack.

“Alice, you know I hate it when you say that. Call me Mother, please.”

“Mother…”

“That’s right, sweetie.”

It became explicitly clear that this woman did not intend to let me leave.

“No, I mean, I’m not Alice. You don’t understand. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.” I turned to the exit. The woman moved with surprising dexterity, shoving her body in front of me and latching both fists around the doorframe.

“Let me go,” I said, voice trembling. The flies clouded the air between us. The stink was rising as I became more frightened. I could barely stop myself from gagging.

“Sweetie, is this because of Luke? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about him. But I told you. They shut off the power and the water. The corn’s gone dry, and there’s not much food that old John doesn’t need for his family. I had to kill him, Alice. I know you loved him, but I was starving,” she rattled frantically. Her face had gone white again, and all the empty skin quaked.

“That’s a person?” I screeched, glancing against my better judgment at the carcass hanging from the ceiling. I gagged again.

“Luke? That’s your puppy! Don’t you remember? Oh, Alice, we’ll find you another, I promise.” Tears filled her eyes. She was genuinely upset that she had hurt me. Or Alice.

The sound of the dog licking up the spoiled residue on the floor pushed me over the edge. I tried to cover my mouth with my hand, but it was too late. I vomited all over the floor.

The woman stepped cautiously from the door and grabbed a towel. With a mother’s kindness, she dabbed my mouth. It smelled as sick as the rest of the room. I weakly pushed her back. My knees were wobbling now, and my head spun. I focused on the open door before me, and the cool, fresh air of freedom.

“I have to go,” I told her.

“No, Alice. We’re okay now. You came back to me, and we’re going to be okay,” she crooned. She lifted an arm around my shoulder for comfort. I jerked away from her touch, stepping on the dog’s tail. He barked viciously, snarling at me.

“Max!” the woman screamed. He returned to his slow work cleaning the floor.

“My friend is waiting,” I tried. My throat burned from the bile, and my eyes were now streaming. The little room was spinning. Shrinking.

“No, dear. Mother’s your only friend,” she soothed again.

I pushed shakily past her, and in an effort to stop me, she wound her arms around my waist. A snake constricting her prey.

“Now, Alice…”

“Let go!” I shouted, and as we began to struggle, my strength returned. Some small part of me knew I didn’t want to hurt her, but I was going to if she didn’t let me through that door this instant.

“Alice! Please!” the woman begged laboriously between sobs.

Finally, I grasped the doorframe, pulling myself forward. At the first whiff of humid air, I renewed my efforts, gasping in breaths. She only tightened her grip. Something metal clanged as it fell off the countertop. The wind chimes smacked against each other in chaotic cacophony.

Get out! my mind ordered.

I bent my knee and, like a donkey, kicked her as hard as I could in the shin. With a cry she released her hold and fell onto the floor.

I turned, suddenly fearing that I’d hurt her badly. To my horror, she curled up on the dirty linoleum in the tufts of dog hair and trash and began to weep. The Labrador moved from licking the blood to licking her face.

“What’s going on?” asked a male voice. One I had never in my life been so happy to hear.

I spun toward Chase, probably appearing crazy myself. His face was grim but otherwise unreadable. Sensing the urgency, he grabbed my arm and jerked me out the door. I tripped over the chair but righted myself and ran, pausing at the edge of the field when he didn’t follow. He had hesitated in the doorway, blocking the woman from coming after me.

I swallowed mouthfuls of fresh air, thankful for the rain striking my face. My stomach was still knotted. How could I have been so stupid as to step inside her house? How could I have thought she would have helped me? My plan and my prized intuition were useless. The world outside of my hometown was as foreign as an alien planet.

Thunder cracked, and a white fork of lightning stabbed across the sky.

“Can’t you Bureau bastards just leave her alone?” the woman shrieked at Chase. I could see her through the open doorway as Chase jogged away. She was still on the floor, her sagging arms wrapped around her chest.