Alex Harris 00 - Armed

place is creepy,” Sam whispered. “Not as bad as that picture of Joan Van Ark after all those cosmetic surgeries, but close. I’m sorry for all the times I scared you with dolls.”
    “Apology accepted. There. That must be the shipping area.” I pointed to a section full of mannequins and boxes with various destinations printed on them.
    “What now?” Sam asked.
    “Heck, I don’t know.”
    We picked one up and shook it. Sam managed to lift a smaller model and I shined the flashlight through it. Nothing. And there didn’t seem to be a place where the mannequin could be opened.
    “What do you think are in all these boxes? They’re too small to be mannequins,” Sam said, as she lifted one up.
    “Those must be parts. Eyes and hair and paint kits.”
    We poked around a little while longer until satisfied there were no drugs anywhere.
    Sam looked annoyed. “I’m going to kill Millie.”
    “Hey, you wanted to come too. I hope you’re satisfied.”
    “Yeah, I guess. Can we get out of here now?”
    We walked back to the door leading to the offices and went through. I shined the light down the hall.
    “Millie. Millie! Where are you?”
    “Oh great. Where the hell did she go?” Sam whispered.
    “I don’t know. Maybe she got scared and came looking for us. Let’s go back and check.”
    We made a quick walk-through and then went back to the reception area.
    “Look, Alex. Isn’t that her hat?”
    I shined the flashlight over by the mannequin display. Millie’s Santa hat sat on the floor and I walked over to pick it up.
    “Well, where the heck did she go? Maybe she went back out to the van,” I suggested.
    “She couldn’t have. I’ve got the key.”
    “BOO!”
    “Jesus Chr…”
    I dropped the flashlight and fell back knocking over the Christmas tree. In my attempt to get up and run from a berserk mannequin, I got all tangled up in the lights and tinsel and stepped on most of the ornaments.
    “Oh, my God. Alex! Are you all right?” Millie jumped out from behind a mannequin.
    Sam rushed to help me.
    “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? For God sakes, Millie, you almost gave us a heart attack!”
    Millie and Sam looked down at me. Tinsel and broken bulbs covered me, and a tree branch stuck out between my legs. I touched my head and felt pine needles and sap sticking to my hair. They started to laugh.
    “What’s so funny? Get me out of here!”
    As Millie bent to help me up, I caught sight of something behind her and I could feel my eyes grow big as saucers and then I screamed. Millie turned to see the hand of a female mannequin placed firmly on her shoulder. The three of us froze with fright just as one of the male mannequins turned to join in.
    “Holy shit! They’re alive!” Sam screamed, tumbling on top of me. We scrambled to get up probably looking like the three stooges in some old black and white movie.
    I twisted around trying to get out from under Sam when a large shadow fell across us. I quickly lifted my arms to shield my head against a blow.
    Sam and Millie rolled over at the same time. As the shadow fell across Sam’s face she let out a scream worthy of a banshee. Millie fainted.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

    Just then the lights went on.
    Mr. Poupée loomed over us laughing so hard tears streamed down his face. Detective Van der Burg walked over to where I tried to get up and extended his hand. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”
    I glared at him through my right eye; my left eye obscured by a piece of tinsel that had somehow managed to thread itself through the small hoop of one of my earrings, then over my eye, and where it now rested on my nose adhered with a small drop of sap.
    “Mr. Poupée. I’m so sorry. I assure you I’ll pay for all the damage .” I shrugged free of the detective’s grip and pulled Christmas decorations from my body.
    “No. I’ll pay for everything,” Millie said groggily as she came to.
    Mr. Poupée continued to laugh. “No need to, ladies. We can get another Christmas tree. I’m just glad you’re okay. You are okay?”
    Millie just nodded drowsily.
    The security service, alarmed by a strange car in the lot, had called Mr. Poupée, who in turn called Detective Van der Burg. Millie was definitely not lookout material.
    Sam, still picking tinsel off of her sweater said, “I still don’t get it. They’re supposed to move?”
    “That’s right. It’s a new line of mannequins we’ve been working on. Very hush hush. Or so I