The Maze The Lost Labyrinth - By Jason Brannon Page 0,57

that this snake would soon be eating its own tail if I didn’t change soon, but I didn’t know how.

“You determine whether I starve or feassst.”

“Yes.” I tried not to show the misgivings in my heart.

“I can hear the hesitation in your voice. I can see the greed and confusion in your eyes. You aren’t sure that you really want your old life back.”

“I do.” I spoke slowly.

“You aren’t sure of that at all. But I’m reasonable. I can let you try out that life for a while, like a new suit of clothes. If you like the suit and it fits you well, you can keep it. If it’s not to your liking, we can go back to your old life. What do you say? I can offer you a bite of this apple. It will be up to you to decide if you want to eat the rest.”

“Go away.” I thought about the way the razor-blade plants had cut me in a thousand different places and how that pain had represented a fraction of Amy’s heartache. She didn’t deserve any more punishment.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. We’ve got some unfinished business to attend to first.”

“I don’t have any business with you.”

The serpent crawled down the remainder of the tree and stood before me. Its body whirred and hummed and creaked as its internal machinery did its work. “I’m afraid there is one little matter to contend with. A test.”

“Of course, you work for Asterion. How stupid of me. What do I have to do now? Jump through hoops of fire? Correctly guess the number of stars in the sky? Recite the alphabet in reverse order?”

“I have a riddle for you.”

“Exssssssscellent,” I mocked the snake. “Give it to me.”

“As you wish, but first the rules. You will have one minute to solve this riddle. Success will buy another hour of safety for your family. Failure will put them in harm’s way.”

“A minute?” I was surprised at how sharply the stakes were rising. “That’s barely enough time to think.”

“A lot can happen in a minute. A president can push a button that will ssssend hundreds of nuclear warheads into the air. A drunk driver can ssswerve into oncoming traffic and end an innocent life. A man can choose to leave his wife and ssson for a woman he never really stopped loving.”

“Enough with the guilt trip,” I growled. “Just give me the riddle.”

The serpent tested the air with its metallic tongue before it spoke:

“The dying can live, he’s been given a gift

It’s like air for the soul, gives the spirit a lift

This gift is the difference in black and in white

This gift is the difference between death, between life

This gift is the choice between Heaven and Hell

This gift buys your freedom so choose and choose well.”

My mind felt like it was filled with cement, muddied with the ramifications of failure. I knew Darrell Gene was inside my house, and I knew the danger the serpent spoke of involved him. A hundred different possibilities flashed through my head. All of them involved blood, torment, and abuse.

I felt like Atlas at that moment, balancing the weight of the world on my shoulders. I felt like I was about to be crushed beneath the stress.

“The clock is ticking,” the serpent said.

“Shut up!”

I placed both hands over my ears to block out everything. I couldn’t think no matter how hard I tried. The riddle didn’t make any sense. My brain wasn’t focused on it anyway. I was too wrapped up in the consequences of failure to focus on the prospect of success.

“You’ve got fifteen seconds.” The serpent hummed the theme song to an old game show.

I screamed in frustration and grabbed the apple off of the tree. I hurled it as far as I could and was satisfied to hear it shatter into a million pieces.

“Time’s up.” The serpent ended the game. “The answer was free will. Free will is what allows you to choose sssssalvation. Ssssalvation, in turn, is what saves you from eternal death. All men are born with a choice, and you chose poorly.”

“So what happens now?”

“Only Darrell Gene Rankin knows for sure. I’m sure if you watch the forbidden fruit long enough, you’ll see what he has in store.”

Chapter 28

As any composer can attest, sometimes the chord progressions don’t work, don’t feel right. The music is cold, flat, lifeless. And music, as everyone knows, is all about feeling.

The Piper watched the proceedings on Pinecrest Avenue with increasing disappointment. His