“Phew, this place stinks,” Alvin said.

“Shut up,” Annie said, though she covered her mouth as they all entered.

“Mrs. Barnacle,” she called gently, as Nora shut the door behind them. The place was dim and close, the odor of coal oil from the old Red Star stove veining through a smell like that which comes out of the back of a butcher’s on a hot day. Annie heard the puppy whining weakly and scratching at the bedroom door, but as she hurried across the room, she saw it—the hand reaching over the edge of the armchair. Mrs. Barnacle lay on the floor, her eyes still wide open.

Annie was flooded with horror. “She’s dead. She’s died.”

“She’s gone stiff and blue,” Alvin shouted, strangely excited. “She’s poisoned herself.”

Nora moved toward the body.

Alvin ran past Raj and Lew to the front door and began to rattle the handle as if he couldn’t open it. “It’s a trap,” he shouted.

Lew screamed like a young child. Raj, hunched into himself as if someone were about to hit him, looked bewildered and terrified.

“We’re all going to die,” Alvin shouted, still rattling the door.

Annie couldn’t help herself. Overwhelmed by fear, she screamed. Only Nora remained calm. She went to Alvin and shoved him out of the way so hard he fell onto the floor. Then she opened the door. Lew immediately ran out as Nora returned to the body and put her hand against the old woman’s neck.

“What you do that for?” Alvin shouted, getting up and brushing himself off.

“She’s completely cold,” Nora said calmly, turning to Annie, who then glanced at Raj. He looked as ashamed of his cowardice as she was of her own.

“You didn’t have to push me, you…bitch.”

“Shut up, Alvin,” Annie said.

Alvin left.

“We need to get people here,” Nora said to Annie and Raj. “I’ll take the road back to my place, ’case a car comes and I can stop them. You guys go to Tatmeyer’s. He’s closest.”

The three of them ran back through the gauntlet of hungry chickens, Nora heading off toward the road, Annie and Raj through the woods. There was no sign of Alvin or Lew. After a couple of minutes, Annie remembered the whining hound and realized it might have been in that back room for days.

“Oh, God, the puppy,” she said to Raj. “Tatmeyer’s probably working the field by the swamp. You go find him. I’ll be back in a second.”

As she closed on the house again, she wished she had asked Raj to come with her. She was frightened to go back in, and the mindless living hunger of those chickens seemed to embody her fear. But thinking of how brave Nora was, she forced herself back through the chickens, and into the house. The body was moving. She screamed, and Alvin quickly stood up.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Alvin said. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”