Article 5

“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.

“Hurry!” I motioned to him. My knees were knocking hard, the stench and the sound of buzzing flies still fresh in my memory.

“Alice!” the woman wailed. “I’m sorry about Luke! Alice!”

There was a moment where I was torn between fear, pity, revulsion, and the guilt that my mere presence had upset her fragile mental balance. Then the woman screamed, a bloodcurdling sound that ended in a gargling sob, and I ran blindly into the cornfield.

* * *

CHASE led the way, moving fast. It didn’t take long for me to realize he’d marked his path by cornstalks bent at right angles. Clever, I thought fleetingly.

After several minutes he slammed to a halt, grabbed me hard around the shoulders, and gave me a firm shake.

“Don’t do that again!” he reprimanded. “I told you to stay close!”

Then he turned just as unexpectedly and plowed onward. I could hear him tossing indecipherable comments over his shoulder, but he didn’t glance back.

I did. I searched our path, panicked, convinced the woman was ready to do whatever it took to retrieve me. I jogged to catch up.

“Crazy lady probably hasn’t been off her property in months,” he was saying. “Why’d she call you Alice, anyway? And who’s Luke?”

It was as if he’d pulled the trigger on a loaded gun. I pitched forward onto my hands and knees and heaved. Black spots appeared before my vision as the spasms raked my body. I could still smell the dead, rotting animal. I could taste it in my mouth.

Chase stopped. The anger he had been directing my way replaced itself with alarm, and he knelt beside me.

“She thought I was her daughter, Alice,” I gasped, spitting. “Luke was the dog. She butchered him.”

“That explains the smell,” he said.

“Come on! She’s following us!” I groaned. We were a good distance away from the trailer, but I could feel her presence on me, her arms winding around my body. When I tried to stand, I stumbled again. The rain seemed to bore me straight into the ground.

“No she’s not. She’s gone,” he said in a hushed tone. A gentle hand was placed on my back—a test, I knew, after I’d shied away from him earlier. I didn’t shake him off; his touch was oddly reassuring. His dark eyes probed mine, searching for the details of what had transpired in his absence.

“Help me up.” I didn’t care if he saw me crying, if he could even tell through the rain. I just wanted to get out of there.

Without a word, he slid an arm behind my knees and lifted me, cradling me against his chest like a child. I watched the rain pool on my jacket at the bend of my waist and gave myself, for the moment, to lightness.

“At least this way you won’t get lost,” he said dryly.

But I was lost. The lines between danger and safety were blurring.

* * *

A FEW minutes later, the truck appeared through the cornfield. It was a bitter reminder of my failure to escape, but I still felt a flood of relief at the sight of it.

“Put me down,” I said, wriggling out of his arms. Though my strength hadn’t fully returned, I needed the distance. His presence had too quickly become a comforting shield; one I wasn’t sure which side to be on.

He paused, as if he were reluctant to let me go, but then he set me down abruptly. The second I was out of