Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,9

himself, as if he’d said too much. “Come away from that window. That ain’t no rabbit hole. You’re gonna trip and I’ll have to scrape your scrawny ass up off the pavement.”

I clenched my jaw, unmoving.

He tossed the book down. “Look, I can make you sigh, or I can make you cry. But either way this is gonna happen.”

My attention flickered from his leering gaze to the tiny space of wall over the door. Behind him and the parade of spiders skittering free from a hole in the doorframe covering the wall and ceiling. There had to be thirty daddy longlegs now, and still more were pushing through. Had the storm driven them out?

Ask for a hand, or eight feet . . .

Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe I had finally teetered over the edge like my mom. But whatever was happening, I had to use it to my advantage. I couldn’t move, and I’d missed my chance to dive to my death.

“Help me,” I pleaded—not sure exactly what I meant or to whom I was talking.

“Oh, I’m gonna help you.” In a matter of seconds Wally had me pinned to the wall with his clammy palm at my neck. I gripped his wrist with both hands and dug my nails in hard. He laughed, his sour-fruit breath hot on my face. “Yeah, I’m gonna help you real good. See, I’m the white rabbit, and I’m takin’ you on an adventure you’ll never forget, Alice.”

He lifted me by my neck until only my toes touched the floor. The pressure constricted my throat, and black fuzz began swimming in my gaze’s periphery. I kicked at him, but he sidestepped my feet and, with his free hand, started to work at my belt buckle.

My abdominal muscles clenched in revulsion. The dark fuzz grew, but not from lack of oxygen. I turned my eyes and saw a sweep of daddy longlegs along the walls and ceiling—hundreds of them.

“Help me now,” I commanded this time. My only hope was to drive Wally out of this apartment and back down the stairs on an avalanche of arachnids.

Their response was instantaneous and violent. Wally yelped and dropped me to the floor as the swarm began to clamber over him, creeping up his shoes, then along his legs. I moved away from the window and gasped for air as the insects continued their march, overtaking his chest. His horrified screams were drowned out by the spiders’ angry whispers as he swatted at them. More arachnids came to replace the ones that fell. They found their way to Wally’s neck and face, then filled his gaping mouth, muffling his bloodcurdling cries. He clutched at his throat, his bare arms covered with sleeves of spindly legs and throbbing thoraxes.

His nose and eyes disappeared under the ever-growing infestation. He lost his footing, and tried to catch himself against the wall, but his aim was off. He fell through the opened window, choking on the way down.

Numb, I backed up to my bedroom door, gagging when I heard the sick, heavy splat of his body on the wet asphalt.

Sudden movement in the left corner of the room distracted me. The moth fluttered out from the shadows, then landed on the windowsill, observing the mess below. A rush of nausea burned my gut.

“It was an accident,” I whimpered to the insect, as if he was my confessor. “I—I didn’t mean for it to happen!”

“Oh, but I did.” That cockney accent stirred inside my head. The voice belonged to both the moth and the man. Somehow, they were one and the same, and somehow they were also tied to the Wonderland tales. My mom had figured that out. Which meant he’d been watching us for years. Not only that, he had led Wally to my apartment earlier. It was his fault the landlord found Mrs. Bunsby’s note before I did. This whole thing had been a setup.

I couldn’t speak, dragged into a vortex of confusion, shock, and regret.

“Do not concern yourself with that drowned rat, Alison,” the British voice scolded me in my mind. “There are countless young girls he damaged. It was up to you to set things to rights. Imbalance brings balance. Chaos is the great equalizer. But there will be repercussions. You’ll ne’er belong here now. It’s better that way. You are meant for so much more than this paltry world has to offer.” The moth flapped over to me, hovering in front of my face. “Take things into your own