lactowoman [2]

“What’s your name? Open your eyes. Were you trying to kill those children?”

“Dawn, give her a chance. You poisoned your son and may be a psychopath (I mean that as a compliment), but this woman, it looks like an accident.”

“That’s a low blow, Reed. You know Orion’s biomanufacturing of pro-lactation galactagogues was really just a way for him to intravenously alter women’s supply to create his anti-alien weapons arsenal, while the children died from what police conveniently call, SIDS.”

“Ya, SIDS, Sudden Infant Demon Syndrome.”

“Remember that one we found on the east side of the lake just resting in water like a Shabiri? Those green eyes, that snaking tongue. And just before it died, when it screamed–I don’t know what else to say. It was like an unfinished human.”

After wiping the lake residue and foam off the woman’s body, Reed mixed sarsaparilla essential oil with lotion and applied it to lessen inflammation and numb the pain. As he applied the salves, he looked at her the same way he surveyed sites for ENVIOCRED, as a professional naturalist, making sure there were no owl roosts in the way, or any bodies of water that might be polluted by AMGEN’s new manufacturing facility for biological medicines. Drawing the elastic of the unknown woman’s underwear down to reveal where lightning scarred her pelvis, bringing his wet towel there to wipe away the blood, it was no different than drawing a baby Sciurus Carolinensis nest in his binder to demarcate a potential threat to a building project that would probably go forward anyway.

Suddenly, the lights flickered. Reed heard the woman sighing. “Are you ready for your milky now,” she said. As she sighed, her eyes went green and Reed noticed her shirt growing two wet, white circles at her chest. The circles widened soaking the gingham tablecloth with bubbling white vapor that made the linoleum floor melt and smoke.

“Dawn, come quick! Get the tranquilizer! She’s up and she’s disoriented as hell!”