Intense flames hissed and danced just ten feet above her, causing her cheeks to burn. Tiny sparks floated down and Theodosia feared her hair might catch fire. Worst of all, Theodosia could hear Bobby Wayne’s voice calling to her, “You can’t get away!” But his voice sounded far away, like he was probably outside by now.
Down in the bowels of the rice mill, Theodosia’s head whipped left to right, looking for an exit, any place that would lead her out of what would soon become a roaring inferno.
And as flames above grew in intensity, crackling and licking at the ancient roof above, Theodosia suddenly spotted an exit out of this maw of hell.
A tunnel. Approximately three feet high, three feet wide, constructed entirely of brick.
Taking a deep breath, Theodosia dove into that dark crawl space just as the floor above collapsed and flames licked at her heels.
27
Skittering along on her hands and knees, Theodosia found herself inches deep in mud and slime. Thick, musty cobwebs brushed at her face.
She breathed a silent thank-you to Drayton. An even bigger thank-you to the highly inventive rice producers of the Carolinas.
And Theodosia kept crawling in the pitch black. Struggling along, wondering how far the tunnel extended, hoping it wasn’t blocked at the other end.
When her fingertips finally hit a pile of broken bricks, she had a few bad moments fumbling around in the dark. But luck was with Theodosia, and when she inched upward and tilted her head back she saw giant streams of smoke and, in between, the faint glimmer of stars overhead!
The brick chimney, which had once soared twenty-five feet into the sky, had crumbled to a mere stub over the years. And now Theodosia was struggling to slowly pull herself up, trying to extricate herself from its archaeological remains. Clawing at broken brick and stone, she pushed and squirmed. Her silk top was in shreds, she had lost both sandals. But, finally, like a wary gopher emerging from its den, Theodosia pushed her head up slowly.
And saw . . . the old rice mill still burning. But no Bobby Wayne.
Theodosia swiveled her head around, mindful of the pain that filled her head. No, there was Bobby Wayne’s car, parked right where he’d left it. So now the question remained. Where was Bobby Wayne?
But Theodosia found herself confronted with a new set of problems. First was orientation. She wasn’t sure which direction would lead her to the main plantation house. And second, would her legs even carry her?
She was exhausted, hurt, and unnerved. Did she even have the strength and inner reserves to attempt a getaway?
Theodosia knew she had to try.
Wobbling slightly, she pulled herself upright and crept along behind the back of the burning building. She knew if she could keep the burning rice mill directly between her and Bobby Wayne’s car, she’d have a better chance of remaining undetected. Plus, sooner or later, someone would see this fire and call it in. Then fire engines would come racing out and Bobby Wayne would be forced to flee, to make his getaway.
When Theodosia felt confident she was in the right spot, she began backing away carefully. But the ground was uneven, causing her to stumble and fall a number of times. And every time she fell, her head throbbed more.
Fearing she’d suffered a concussion, worrying that she didn’t have much strength left, Theodosia turned and tried to pick up the pace.
She knew she was wheezing badly, was having difficulty maintaining focus.
If she could just make it to that grove of tamaracks up ahead . . .
Theodosia pressed on, feet sinking in mud, willing herself to keep going.
When she reached the shelter of the tamarack grove, she turned.
And saw Bobby Wayne, backlit by the fire, searching for her.
Spinning in frustration, Theodosia broke into a wobbly dog trot. If she could just put some distance between the two of them!
Plunging into a thicket of horse nettle, Theodosia turned an ankle, fought to maintain her balance, and cartwheeled down a hill.
That’s when she heard Bobby Wayne’s voice, calling after her.
“You’re not going to get away!”
Clambering to her feet, Theodosia forced herself to keep going. Dodging trees, she was hobbling down an incline now, so the going was slightly easier. Then mud squished between her toes and she found herself ankle deep in water, then suddenly almost waist deep in a soggy morass.
She’d somehow stumbled into the water bog garden!
No shelter here, she told herself. Just a big, dangerous trap.
Struggling to pull herself out of the bog, Theodosia grasped at swamp grass and reeds, shredding water lily blooms as she fought to free herself. She felt guilty at pulling the blooms apart, destroying these protected plants, but she knew she had to do anything she could to get herself back on solid ground.
Her feet churned through silt that seemed to have no bottom, then finally hit mud. She kept pumping her legs, felt the mud start to turn slightly more solid. Then she was out of the bog and limping up a hill on the opposite side of the bog.
Splashing sounds behind her told Theodosia that Bobby Wayne had hit the far edge of the water bog garden, too.
She dug deep into her reserves and managed an ungainly sprint up the grassy hillside.
“I see you!” crowed Bobby Wayne. “I see you.”
As Theodosia reached the crest of the hill, her breath coming in shallow wheezes now, a loud boom filled the air and a bullet seemed to whiz by her head. She flung herself down, aware of a sharp jab at her left hip. Then she was up and running again, scared out of her mind. Dodging left, Theodosia was suddenly confronted by . . .
The hedge maze.
Without hesitation, Theodosia staggered toward it. Elaborate curlicues of wrought iron arched over the entrance, scrolling out words that Theodosia hadn’t noticed a week ago: Take Heed This Wyld Tangle.
Ducking through the archway, Theodosia ran straight ahead, zigged left, then zagged right. Hoping this might be her salvation.
But her overwrought mind kept skittering from one thought to another and Theodosia knew she was just seconds away from a full-blown panic attack.
She slowed her steps, trying to consciously slow her mind as well.
Her mind seemed like it was spinning off in a million different directions at once. She suddenly flashed back to
