I hear her before I see her. It could only be her voice hurtling over the front desk as she demands to speak with me. I'm in my office taking what should be the last report of my shift from someone who witnessed an apparent case of self-immolation, so I don't react right away. Marty does, though.

"Again? Really?" he says under his breath as he stomps down the hallway, shooting a passing glance in my direction.

After a few more minutes of notes, I'm free to take Penny into my office, not that I particularly want to do so. Frequent flyers are like rust on a police department.

Marty escorts a red-faced Penny into the chair across from my desk. The marks on her neck appear more severe than before, and she's favoring her left leg. She holds her right arm against her chest as if it's cramped. The rest of her looks like she's been towed behind a garbage truck all night.

"You want help with this one?" Marty says to me, exasperated.

"I'll be fine," I say and type a few strokes on my keyboard. After Marty leaves, I lean in and say to Penny, "You're not talking your way out of medical treatment this time."

It takes her a minute to gather enough steam to talk once again, but when she does she says, "You gotta kill it."

"Are we talking tentacles again? Penny, I went out to bakery and checked it out for myself," I say.

"You did?" Penny says. She sounds surprised, as if this is the first time someone took her seriously. "So you seen it, too."

"No, I didn't see anything other than the rubble from that bakery and a dented door that couldn't open if it wanted to," I say and pull a pamphlet out from a drawer. "Look, the city offers several excellent treatment centers that can..."

"You didn't go after dark, did you?" Penny says, interrupting me.

I lay the pamphlet in front of her. "No, I went at dusk."

"It only comes out when the moon is up. He does. Or it does. Still dunno," Penny says. "But I know this much. It tried to get me again last night. Happened the same way. Guy comes up with a loose face. I take him back for a date. There's a flash, and next thing I know I'm bein' dragged by the neck by some cord thing, a tentacle."

I raise an eyebrow. "This man with the loose face, didn't you recognize him from before? Why did you agree to go on a, as you call it, date? It doesn't make sense to make the same mistake twice like that."

"You tryin' to blame me for what happened? Or sayin' that I was askin' for it? He done the same thing to me. That's what matters," Penny says.

"No, it matters because I think you need help, and this is a big reason why," I say.

"I thought you said it ain't your job to pass no judgment."

"It's not, but come on, Penny. You and I both know what's going on here," I say. "The good news is we can get you help. In years past, your behavior would've meant jail time, but fortunately those days are gone."

Penny grabs at her stomach with her good hand and shakes her head. "No, no, no. I ain't goin' nowhere with you."

I pull a bottle of water from my desk. "Do you need something to drink?"

Penny slaps it away and says, "I need you to listen. It got me through the door this time. I seen all the bodies, I seen where the dead ones go. But I seen something else, too. It's a big hole in the corner of the room. That's where them cords, them tentacles, come outta. There were lots of 'em, too."

"What?" I say, flabbergasted. This story just keeps on going.

"I never seen what was at the bottom of that hole, 'cause it was too deep, but you ask me, it's like whatever was down there was keeping them dead bodies in that room for food. Some of them bodies I seen was ripped in half. So much guts and shit and so gross but it's everywhere and on me some times and it's just too much, too much. I only got one way to make it, you know? Only one job I can even work, really, and now this. Just too damn much," Penny says through tears.

"So how did you get away?"

"I kicked and kicked and kicked, and I guess one of them bodies fell in the hole. The tentacle thing let go," Penny says. "Listen to me. If ya'll don't go out there and kill it, it's gonna kill me. I'm one of the last ones workin' the block now. It got the other ones. Just keeps stacking them bodies up like they was firewood."

I sigh and pretend to type. "Like firewood. Got it."

"It'll be dark out soon. You gonna go do it, right?" Penny says.

"I can't force you to get help, but I want you to seriously consider what I'm offering. We can give you a safe place to stay, resources for getting sober and counselors to piece your life back together. I want to save your life, Penny, but you have to let me," I say and tap the pamphlet with my finger.

"Then kill it. I'll even show you. Come with me tonight," Penny says.

"I don't think it'd be good form for someone like me to go to that part of town with someone like you for a whole evening," I say, my eyes falling to the crutches leaning against the wall.

"Someone like...me?" Penny says. She seems upset at first, then resigned. Her voice lowers. "Yeah. Guess you right. Maybe you can go out there without me?"

I tap the pamphlet again. "I'd rather go with you to one of the city's social workers. We can leave right now if you'd like."

Penny's fingers almost make it to the pamphlet, but they stop short. She cracks her neck, straightens her back, takes a deep breath and says, "Fuck you."

"She just wants the attention. Making up stories for anyone willing listen," Marty's voice says. He's suddenly standing next to Penny. Must've been eavesdropping. I can't figure out why he should care so much, though. Doesn't he have other work to do?

"Fuck you, too," Penny says.

Marty sets a thick hand on Penny's brittle shoulder. "How about I drive you home?"

"Hey, Marty, I think she's ready to talk to a social worker first," I say. "Right, Penny?"

"That's not what I heard," Marty says before she can respond.

"I don't wanna ride with you," Penny says.

"Too bad. Department policy," Marty says, although I've never heard of such a thing before. "Let's go before you make up another story."

"I didn't make nothing up," Penny says.

"The hell you didn't. We checked it out for ourselves," Marty says and pulls Penny to her feet.

Penny isn't left with a choice, and neither am I. I watch as Marty shuffles her down the hallway, the pamphlet fluttering to the floor in their wake. Just before they get out of earshot, I hear Penny scream, "Kill it! Kill it! Someone kill it!" That's followed by the muffled sound of her voice struggling to break through the hands quieting her down.

Two hours later, I'm still waiting for Marty to come back so he can give me a ride home. I consider hitting up someone else, but I'm more concerned than irritated.

"Marty? He probably got distracted. You know how he gets," Rita, one of the detectives, says after passing me by the door for the sixth time.

"Yeah, but two hours?" I say.

"Yeah, but Marty," Rita says. She knows as well as I do what being "distracted" can mean for someone like him. Happened many times in the past, except this time I'm not there to cover his ass.

Another hour passes, and I'm thinking he flat out forgot. Rita finally relents and offers me a ride.

"You owe me one," she says as I buckle in. "I got shit to do."

"I actually owe you two," I say.

"Two?"

"Remember about six months back? That thing?"

"Oh, yeah, I get it. Right. Make it two then," Rita says. She fires up the car and turns on the headlights. It's dark, but the heat gives everything an odd glow. "So where to?"

I gnawed the question over already while waiting for Marty. I want to give her my home address, but I can't. I give her something else.

I give her the address to the bakery.

"OK, but I'm not sticking around," Rita says.

"I'll catch a cab home."

"Cabs don't run in that part of town."

"I know," I say.