The Maze - The Lost Labyrinth Part 17
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"Behold, I stand at the door and knock---." The voice of the maze let the thought sink in.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
"You're truly repentant for all the things you've done. You know how you should respond."
I nodded and blinked away the tears. I heard the invitation, and I wanted more than anything else to open that door. The door to my heart. The door to this maze.
I heard the call, and I answered it. With guilt roiling in my gut and grief streaming down both cheeks, I walked over to the kettle where Asterion was crouched down, trembling in fear. I picked up the sledgehammer he had cast aside and lifted it high above my head.
"It frightens you that I'll open the door, doesn't it? There can't be two masters in this place, and you know your time is short."
Asterion didn't answer me, but he didn't have to. The look in his eyes was reply enough.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
"Thou shalt have no other G.o.ds before me!" I brought the twenty-pound weight down on the minotaur's head.
The minotaur collapsed and turned to dust the moment he hit the bottom of the kettle. A gust of wind swept through the hallway and carried his remains away forever. There was only one thing left to do, and I knew that every trial and tribulation I had endured thus far had merely been cobblestones paving the way toward this life-altering moment. Every ounce of guilt I'd felt, every iota of remorse, every pang of the heart and every shameful regret had been little more than a trail of bread crumbs in the depths of this labyrinth leading me to my destiny and my salvation.
Boom!
The knocking persisted, stronger and louder than before.
Boom!
I knew it was time.
I fell to my knees, and I relived every mistake I had ever made. This time I didn't need an amber pill to make me feel guilt. The memories were reminder enough, and my mind called them forth like ghosts from my past. My life was a mess, and I wanted nothing more than to run from all my transgressions.
"I'm so sorry!" I wept hot, salty tears. "Forgive me! Make my heart pure again!"
I s.h.i.+vered as I felt something inside me that I'd never felt before. It was like a broom sweeping all of the debris out of my soul, clearing the cobwebs, chasing away the dust bunnies. Although I could scarcely get the words out because of my trembling lips, I begged for relief from the pain inside. I begged for absolution, for a second chance. I rocked back and forth on my knees, hugging myself for warmth, needing to feel some a.s.surance. When I looked up, a portal appeared at the other end of the maze, and I saw the real world through the open doorway.
I couldn't stand for what seemed like several minutes. I was wrung out, drained of my guilt, emptied of all the iniquity that had ensnared me. I was free.
This maze was less than what I had thought it was and so much more. I had been stumbling lost through the corridors of my heart, and now I finally found the way out of that darkness. I was shocked by all the sin I'd found in the unlit chambers of my heart, but I was also thankful for the revelations.
The maze was no longer gloomy, dark and filled with shadows. Instead of a frightening place, it was now well lit and filled with a warmth that reminded me of the way my mother used to cradle me in her arms when I was scared. I wasn't scared anymore. There were no monsters roaming the hallways of my heart now.
I felt something scratch at me through the fabric of my s.h.i.+rt as I stood up to leave. I fingered the same tattered sc.r.a.p of parchment that I had pulled from that gla.s.s bottle at the beginning of the labyrinth and wasn't at all surprised to see that the message had changed yet again. This time it only contained one word.
"Hallelujah!"
I couldn't have put it any better myself.
I took a deep breath as I approached the exit. A few steps would take me from this place of redemption back into a world that would do everything it could to chew me up and spit me out. Was I ready for that again? Did I want to face that kind of darkness after only recently finding the light?
My family was depending on me, and I knew they didn't have much time. Regardless of what happened from this point on, I knew I had nothing to fear. Confident, I walked through the door with tear-stained eyes, grateful that I had escaped the trap.
Chapter 32.
I opened my eyes and expected to either find myself hooked to a dozen different monitors in a hospital bed or awake on my couch, newly roused from a strange dream about the maze. But I wasn't in a hospital, and I knew that the maze had been so much more than a lucid dream. I had escaped from the labyrinth and had a second chance. The only question was: where was I?
My eyes were open, but I couldn't see anything. The darkness surrounding me was complete and untouched by the light. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. I was in a fetal position, and I struggled to stretch out. The movement made me painfully aware of an ache in my head that resonated through my jaw and traveled all the way down to my stomach where an acute bout of nausea coiled there like a snake. It felt like my skull had been used for batting practice.
I remembered now- I was shot. I automatically reached to touch my injury. My forehead was sticky with dried blood; I felt a deep gouge in the flesh where the bullet struck, but no hole. I was just grazed. I hadn't died after all.
I felt a little shaky and was pretty sure that I had been injected with something to keep me knocked out. My head felt like it was encased with wet cement, and my tongue was a dry, withered thing inside my mouth. Despite feeling like I could just go back to sleep and not wake up again for a couple of decades, I peered into the darkness, hoping to see something to let me know where I was.
I tried to remain calm and not let the claustrophobia have its way with me. I wasn't tied up; I could move around freely. I felt a rough indoor/outdoor carpet underneath my cheek. I smelled a strong odor of rubber and a faint trace of motor oil, but I still couldn't figure out where I was.
Something gouged me in the back, and I reached over my shoulder to feel what it was. I felt a wheel that rotated a full three hundred and sixty degrees, and I quickly discovered that there were three others to match. It was Peter's stroller. The one we kept in my trunk.
I froze as I realized what happened. Angel Face-or should I say Darrell Gene Rankin-had locked me in the trunk of my own car. I felt around in my pockets for my keys, hoping that he had been stupid enough to leave them with me. They weren't there-he had either taken them with him or used them to move the car.
I struggled to think for a moment, fighting against whatever he had drugged me with. It still impaired my senses, and I couldn't use logic or reason for a few seconds. Then, I remembered that he was in my house, holding my family at knifepoint; that was motivation to get out when all I wanted to do was pa.s.s out again.
I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and relax. I needed to think, and I couldn't do that if I was freaking out. I knew that most modern cars were engineered to make getting locked inside the trunk a non-issue. I found it strange that we lived in a world where such designs were necessary, but I was grateful that someone had possessed the foresight to antic.i.p.ate such a problem.
I tried to remember how to pop the latch. There was supposed to be a handle of some kind. I fumbled in the darkness until I found it and yanked on it as hard as I could. The trunk lid popped open, and cool, crisp air rushed in. I squinted against the sudden brightness and gasped for breath. I got out carefully. My legs were as shaky as a newborn giraffe, but I was able to stand without collapsing.
I looked back and saw a maroon stain where I had bled all over the floor of the trunk. The old sc.r.a.p of parchment I had carried with me throughout my journey lay there in scarlet. I picked it up, convinced now more than ever that the labyrinth and everything in it had been real. I looked at the note, and the message scrawled there filled me with a sense of urgency that I desperately needed: "Your family awaits. Go reclaim your life."
The message made me realize just how lucky I was to be standing here now, safe and free from the maze. It also made me realize that my family wasn't out of harm's way yet. There was still much to do and many miles to go before I could relax.
My car was still in the parking lot where I had left it. The only thing Darrell Gene did was move it to the opposite end of the apartment complex, away from the highway where it wouldn't be spotted as easily. He left the keys in the ignition. I knew it was too early to consider myself lucky. Once I made sure my family was okay, then I could rejoice.
My car started on the first try. I backed out slowly, still a little disoriented from my escape from the labyrinth and from the head wound. I looked in my rearview mirror as I pulled out of the parking lot and saw Karen's door open. She stepped out, wearing a mask of confusion as she watched me drive away.
She would never figure out what had happened, and I would never tell her.
That view of Karen in my rearview mirror was the last time I ever saw her. After that fleeting moment pa.s.sed, I focused ahead of me, on the open road, on the future.
I pressed my foot down on the accelerator and raced toward my house to save my family and my marriage.
I just hoped that both would be intact when I got there.
Chapter 33.
"Come on out now, darling." Darrell Gene held the knife at Judith's throat. "We're all waiting to see what Miss America looks like."
Peter squirmed in Judith's grasp, whining. She miraculously managed to keep him under control, even at knifepoint.
"Leave Amy alone."
Carl struggled to speak with his hands and feet tied behind his back. The floor beneath him was covered in a sticky maroon puddle from the deep wound Darrell Gene gave him. The blood stood out in stark contrast against his pale, pasty complexion.
"Oh, don't you worry about a thing, Carl. I won't hurt a hair on her head. She's going to be my wife, after all. She's got to look good for the pictures. It just wouldn't do to have her all banged up and bruised. I'll save that part for the honeymoon."
Carl went back to praying silently, closing his eyes against the pain. Darrell Gene returned his focus to the bedroom door.
"Time's up, sweetheart. Let's see just how pretty you really are."
The door opened and at first no one was there.
"I said come out. I want to see you. Don't be shy."
Amy emerged clothed in delicate white silk, looking like an older, more tired version of the girl who had gotten married all those years ago. Darrell Gene gasped at the sight of Amy standing there in her wedding gown.
"Now that's what I'm talking about." He s.h.i.+fted nervously from one foot to the other. "You're a regular little angel, and I should know. Judith, dear, do you happen to have a camera handy?"
"There's one in the desk drawer."
"Well, don't just sit there playing babysitter. Get up and get it. We've got family pictures to take."
Amy froze. "Family pictures? I'm not taking any kind of pictures with you. You're not my family!"
"I think you'll reconsider that. In fact, not only are you going to be in the picture, staring lovingly into my eyes. But the baby's gonna be in it too. We're going to be one big happy family, and the camera's gonna capture it all for posterity. Since your husband is gone, it only feels right that I do the manly thing and step in to take his place."
"No." Amy's lower lip began to quiver. "Jamie isn't gone."
"He left you for someone else. He apparently didn't want his family, but I do. I think we'll all get along nicely."
"No!" Amy wept, crushed by the impossibility of the situation.
"Yes!" Darrell Gene waved the knife around in joyous, festive circles above his head. "Now's let's show the camera how much we love each other."
For the "wedding pictures," Darrell Gene insisted that they recreate the poses featured on the mantle. Judith snapped the first photo as Darrell Gene and Amy stared into each other's eyes. The camera couldn't see the knife that was pressed against her stomach. All it captured was the hatred in Amy's eyes and the mirth in Darrell Gene's.
The next pose featured Darrell Gene shoving a hunk of chocolate cake into Amy's mouth. It was a pose expected from all newly-married couples. The tears, however, were completely optional. Amy decided to include them because she couldn't have done any differently.
The one that nearly sent her over the edge though was the snapshot of the three of them together. Darrell Gene insisted on holding Peter. It was all Amy could do to stifle her sobs long enough to force a smile that looked more like a grimace of pain.
"Isn't this fun?" Darrell Gene said as Peter began to cry.
"I can't imagine being dipped in honey and covered in fire ants could be any more of a joy," Judith spoke sarcastically as she snapped picture after picture. At first she, too, had balked at the idea of family pictures, but she soon realized that this was buying them some much needed time. Who knew when Darrell Gene would grow tired of this masquerade and kill them all?
There was another reason she was so eager to continue taking pictures. The whir and click of the telephoto lens masked Carl's struggle on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him desperately trying to fish his cell phone out of his pocket.
He seemed to be having some success, but there was no way of telling if he would be able to dial 911 before Darrell Gene grew tired of posing for the camera. The phones hadn't worked thus far. Maybe he would get lucky.
Chapter 34.
There were no games left for me to play. No tasks to complete. No riddles to solve. There was only the overwhelming need to get to my house as quickly as possible. In retrospect, I think killing Cerberus was easier.
I gunned the engine, racing out of the apartment complex parking lot, and was dismayed to find myself behind a slow-moving late model Buick. I tailgated the car, noting with a detached eye how the blue paint was oxidizing and how the left signal light dangled by its wires. A b.u.mper sticker read "Of all the things I've lost I miss my mind the most." At the moment, I could sympathize with that all too well.
I veered into the lane of oncoming traffic with the intent to pa.s.s when the Buick abruptly made a left hand turn, nearly forcing me off the road. I wrenched the wheel wildly to the left, only narrowly managing to keep my own vehicle under control. My heart thudded in my chest, and it took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. The road ahead of me was clear now. I hit the gas and hoped there would be no additional obstacles in my way.
"G.o.d, please protect my family!" I prayed as I rushed through a flas.h.i.+ng yellow light. "Keep them safe." I wasn't sure what I would do if any of them got hurt because of my selfishness. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
The distance from Karen's apartment to my house gave me plenty of time to think of all the horrible things that could happen. It wasn't fair that I had placed my family in this situation. Of course, I wasn't the one in control of Darrell Gene-something far darker than any minotaur influenced his behavior. But, if I hadn't gone to see Karen, I would have never gotten trapped in the maze. And if I hadn't gotten trapped in the maze, I would have been there to protect Amy and Peter and Judith and Carl from the madman that was holding my home under siege.
In a roundabout way, this was all my fault. Of course, I didn't have the trials and tribulations of the labyrinth anymore to show me the error of my ways, but I didn't need them now. I could see the direct result of my sins without having to face Barabbas in a mirrored hallway.
I had so many things to be sorry for. I only hoped that Amy would forgive me.
I almost pulled into my driveway with a frantic squealing of tires then thought better of it at the last minute. The last thing I needed to do at this point was alert Darrell Gene to my presence. The only advantage I had at the moment was the element of surprise.
I drove down the block and parked on the curb. It wouldn't have surprised me if my car got towed, but that was the least of my worries. I ran the length of the block to my house and cut through the yard to get to the back door. I listened for screaming all the way, and was relieved not to hear any. I took that as a good sign.
I didn't know what precautions Darrell Gene had taken against intruders, but I prayed he had neglected to check the sliding gla.s.s door leading into the laundry room. Before I tried the door, I peered through the window in the den, searching for any clue as to what was happening.
The first thing I saw was blood.
Chapter 35.
The minotaur blinked his eyes once, twice, three times. No matter how many times he blinked, the sight before him remained the same. Things were different this time around- they were worse.
"Again?" He grumbled, still reeling from defeat. "So soon?"
The Maze - The Lost Labyrinth Part 17
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The Maze - The Lost Labyrinth Part 17 summary
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