At this point, Malcolm can't tell if these islands are getting progressively better or worse. Which is scarier? A creepy carnival or a temple dedicated to suburban consumerism? He's not sure.

Speaking of temples, this particular island does not seem to have one. They have everything, including a store that sells only thimbles, but no temple of which to speak. Malcolm purchases an air mattress at a camping store and beds down in a small hallway off of one of the mall's main arteries. It's not that far from a bathroom at least, so that's a bonus.

From the bag that he's carried with him from island to island, Malcolm pulls out a set of hand restraints. He loops them through the curve of a pipe protruding from the wall. This is how he has to sleep so that he doesn't end up hurting himself or someone else. He just hopes that for the four or so hours that he manages to sleep that he doesn't rip the pipe out of the wall during a nightmare.

"Home sweet home," he says to someone near him, someone who is clearly wondering what's up with the restraints. "Nothing like tying yourself to a wall to sleep, right?"

Over the course of his time at the mall, Malcolm has bought himself a few creature comforts. He's trying to stay out of the menswear stores. As much as he would love a full wardrobe of new suits, they would be a pain to have to carry from island to island. Plus, he doesn't even know if they'll come with him to the next place anyway. He's limiting himself to one. Okay, two.

To keep himself from buying more extraneous crap in the stores, Malcolm goes exploring, which is how he finds himself in the underground parking deck. Suffice it to say, he's surprised to end up inside of a car. After searching for keys and finding none, Malcolm tries to get out. The door won't budge.

Panic starts to set in. Malcolm isn't completely claustrophobic, but he doesn't like the idea of being stuck in a small place. He tries throwing all of his weight against the door, banging on the window and even looking for something in the car that might break the window. Nothing.

He's going to have to call for help. Fortunately, the ScryWatch network seems to be working. He types out a quick message.

User: sherlockfreud
SOS - Is anyone reading this?

Malcolm takes a few deep breaths as he waits hopefully for a response.

By now, he's so used to the mall that Malcolm almost knows what all of the mannequins look like. Almost. As he happens to pass a women's clothing shop, the mannequin in the window catches his eye.

Eve?

It looks uncannily like her, with long blonde hair and green eyes. Her smile is a little sad, a look that he saw often on her face. Malcolm stares for a moment and then, creeped out, moves on.

Except here's another mannequin that looks like Eve, posing in a window for a sporting goods store with a tennis racquet. Here's another Eve, wearing a lacy white wedding dress.

All of the mannequins are starting to look like his ex-girlfriend. His deceased ex-girlfriend.

Malcolm feels like he can't breathe. He has to get away. He starts to run, and ends up slamming into someone because he's too distracted by the creepy mannequins.

"S-Sorry..."

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