The Maze The Lost Labyrinth - By Jason Brannon Page 0,47

face. She had expected to see someone who was bitter, resentful, angry. The man she saw might have been all of those things, but he was also remorseful and guilt-filled. Large tears the size of raindrops ran down his cheeks.

“Hold out your hand.” Judith noticed that Darrell Gene had intended to leave another note.

The big man did as he was told and gave her the scrap of paper.

“It was all a lie,” the note read. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Why did you do this to us?” Amy felt the rage built inside of her. “Do you know you’ve nearly destroyed my marriage?”

“I was jealous of what you had. It didn’t seem fair that your life should be so good while mine was so horrible.”

Amy grabbed the paintball gun out of Judith’s hands. “And you thought you’d wreck my life so you wouldn’t feel so bad? Is that it?”

Darrell Gene recoiled at the sight of the gun. He obviously thought Amy was going to shoot him.

“Be careful, Amy! It’s loaded.”

“Be careful?!? This man has been playing with my family’s future for the past week, and I don’t want to be careful around him. I really want to shoot him.”

“Please, don’t,” Darrell Gene blubbered. “I haven’t been myself lately. I haven’t been in control.”

“Don’t blame anyone else for the things you’ve done.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to God. I’ve wanted to ask for help. I did a very bad thing. Something much worse than the note.”

This stopped Amy cold, leeching the anger out of her. Darrell Gene was obviously a man who needed help, and he realized it.

“What‘s that in your hand?” Judith asked.

Darrell Gene shrugged his shoulders and gave them a pitiful looked that seemed best suited for a dog that knows it’s about to be whipped. He held his hand out to Amy. “I‘m really sorry.” He handed her Jamie’s wallet.

“Where did you get this? Where is my husband?”

“I’m sorry.”

Darrell Gene repeated that phrase over and over again.

Chapter 24

When I woke up, I hoped to be back home, but I only had to look around briefly to know that I was still stuck inside the maze. I groaned and struggled to my feet, fully expecting to ache in every fiber of my being after running pell-mell through the grove of razor flowers. I was surprised not to feel that way. The cuts I had sustained in the greenhouse were gone. So was Midnight.

I called several times for the dog, but he never showed. I wondered if he had just gotten tired of my company and ran away or if something more sinister had happened. Nothing in this place would have surprised me.

“Asterion?” I wondered if the minotaur was nearby and if he could hear me. No one answered though, and nothing except the sound of my voice filled the endless hallways.

“Can anyone hear me?” Nobody could, or if they did, they refused to answer.

I began to walk, not really knowing where I was going. I made turn after turn, backtracked a couple of times after running into dead ends, and explored some more. This maze seemed enormous, and I could scarcely imagine just how elaborate this place really was. Maybe I hadn’t even scratched the surface yet. That thought scared me.

I walked until blisters formed on my feet. I walked until my clothes were wet with perspiration. I walked until it seemed I was out of footsteps.

I was lost.

Somehow that seemed significant. It was a perfect state of the soul for a place like this.

I was also alone. That was fitting too.

Once I grew tired of exploring and searching for doors where there weren’t any, I collapsed in the middle of a hallway and hugged my knees to my chest, wondering what more I had to prove in this maze. How many more times would I have to say I was sorry before I was forgiven? How many more trials would I have to pass before the door leading back to my life reopened?

I thought about trying all of the things that had worked before-touching the walls in search of something significant, popping a guilt pill and hoping for an opened door, praying to God for a miracle. In the end, I did none of these things. I sat there on that cobblestone floor and contemplated my life.

It was only when I looked toward the end of the hallway that I saw light.

The sight was enough to put me back on my feet. I hoped the light was an exit of