of its own and shares its thoughts with you, right? Probably the only friend you’ve ever had, out here. Desert as far as the horizon. A two-day hike to the nearest road. Yet somehow this place has kept supplying the needs of its customers. Alcohol, among other things. That tree outside tells me the rest.” Lin stared at him. A policeman, and a mind-reader? Yet he could see the dog. No one else had. “That water,” said the man. “Give it to me, now.” His voice was commanding, full of the authority she’d always feared and hated. “Fight me,” she said, baring her teeth. “I won’t give it up.” Something in his stance changed: a bracing of his legs, or tightening of his muscles. The dog inside her had a fit. “Ah yes,” he murmured, “it knows. Don’t watch, little girl . . .” “Little? I’m sixteen!” she cried. “Close your eyes.” He stepped forward. “I’ll extract that dog from you and reduce it to dust and beyond.” She shuddered. The dog inside growled as somehow the man shot upward. His head touched the ceiling, and his arms reached for her. The dog flew at him. The man muttered something as his fingers touched her hair. The dog snapped at them, and he pulled back, fingertips red with blood. His face, she noticed, had not changed in any way. At most, she thought, he seemed more intent. Again he reached forward and cupped both hands round her ears. The dog howled. She gagged, the dizziness in her head so bad she nearly pitched forward, but the man seemed to be holding her upright, his hands applying pressure to her head. She smelled blood (her own? his? the dead men’s?). The dog began a high-pitched howl that went straight to her central nervous system. “N-no,” she stammered, “please!” The man grunted, as if in surprise. Lin opened her eyes and saw her friend the water surge up over the rim of the glass and launch itself at the man. The watery missile sprouted long, tapered ends as it spun forward in sluggish slow motion. The man glanced at it. “Good,” he said, and tightened his grip on her head. Good? Lin’s legs went from under her. A knife-edge of pain split open her head. Her eyes rolled upward, and she saw the dog leap out. Instantly, the man seized it by the throat. Lin gasped and slipped to the floor, holding her head. The man reached out to catch the watery missile with his other hand, then, returning to normal size, knelt in front of Lin. The dog’s eyes bulged. The missile writhed. The man looked at Lin. “That tree outside is bad,” he said. “The water it collects is bad. It will consume you, and the dog is worse. Watch.” Still holding the dog firmly, the man forced its jaws apart, clamped them open, and dropped the watery missile onto its tongue. The dog gulped, swallowed, and almost immediately whimpered, lost definition and vanished.
Brenda Anderson · 93