“Will do,” Dean replies. “Keep your eyes open. I don’t think all the actors are gone yet. Don’t break anyone’s arm off, will you?”
I grin a little and take off down the path. Dean’s footsteps fade away, and suddenly, I am alone in the darkening corn. I mentally kick myself for not stopping and getting Xavier a cell phone or GPS or something before bringing him here. Not that I had any reason to predict he’d do something like this.
As I make my way around a corner, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I blew through this whole maze earlier, but that was before I had to stay and linger in the darkness before I had to take note of every sound, every flash of movement.
Which, unfortunately, makes me a prime target. I prepare myself for the inevitable jump scare. At some point, someone is going to jump out and wave a plastic knife or something at me. I have to remind myself they’re just teenagers and to not punch one of them in the jaw.
I make it a few stalks down before it finally happens. A kid, a good couple of inches shorter than me, jumps out a few feet in front of me, cloaked all in black, with a goofy rubber mask on. He waves a plastic knife at me, swiping close to the stalks rather than at me, and then runs off through the stalks on the other side.
My heart rate jumps a little, and I scold myself. I am an FBI agent who has seen more than my fair share of horrific violence, death, and destruction. There is no reason to be afraid when a sixteen-year-old in a cheap costume yells ‘boo’ in a corn maze. Despite the aggravation at myself, I try to enjoy the spirit of it as I push further into the corn.
A few more actors jump out, but I usually see them coming. Their hiding places are repetitive and obvious to anyone who has a sense of where danger might lie. Once or twice, I think I can hear Dean in the distance calling out for Xavier, but even with both of us calling out, he never responds.
I make the decision that the next scare actor who pops out at me will get explicit instructions from me as to what I need, and maybe a gentle reminder of my job title. The implicit threat of an FBI agent might be enough to end the charade once and for all.
I find myself deep in the corn, in a place that almost seems as if it’s no longer part of the maze. As if whoever designed it figured no one would actually end up here. The darkness is already fully set in, and the string lights hanging among the stalks are far away, pitching me into near blackness. This area is still and silent, and I can barely see a few feet in front of me.
A rustling in the bushes behind me is immediately followed by a body running full force into me. I nearly grab it and toss it to the ground out of instinct, my brain stopping me mere seconds before my hands are full of their shirt and my hip thrusting out to throw them to the ground. I want to do it anyway to teach the kid that the ‘no touching’ rule is important for just this reason, but in a lucky flash of light, I catch a glimpse of familiar eyes.
“Xavier?” I ask, grabbing tight to the wiggling form in front of me. The eyes search my face and recognition dawns.
“Emma,” he gasps with a hoarse whisper. “Emma, the boogaloos. The boogaloos are here.”
“It’s just actors, Xavier. For Halloween. For fun,” I say, but he wiggles hard, and I lose my grip.
“Not the boys. The men. The reaper man,” he says.
“Xavier, wait,” I cry out in vain as his legs tangle with mine and I trip trying to catch him. He takes off and barrels through the stalks beside me. “Run, Emma! The reaper does not listen to the harvest!”
I scramble to my feet and take off after him, trying to keep him in my sight. As I crash into the next row, I can hear his feet, but it’s too dark to see him. There’s a fork in the road ahead, and the echo of his footsteps doesn’t come clearly from either direction. I can’t tell where he’s gone.
Taking a few steps forward, I feel the prickling on the back of my neck again and turn. A shadow dips into the stalks behind me.
I shake my head, making a note to give the owner a talking to. It’s one thing to scare people for Halloween fun and games, and another entirely to stalk them when they are clearly chasing someone who’s distressed.
A crashing of more stalks to one side gives me a clue, and I take off after it. The lights in this area are non-existent, and I am quickly running out of any visual aids. I call out for Xavier, but he doesn’t answer. I stop to listen for something, anything.
There—a rustle behind me. I whip my head around in that direction only to see the shadow dip back into the cornstalks. For a brief second, I catch the glint of light off metal high in the air. It looks like a scythe.
“Whoever you are, get out of here! The maze is closed. Tell the other actors to help me find my friend,” I shout toward the place the shadow disappeared, but my only answer is silence.
“I don’t have time for this,” I mutter and take off toward the crashing sound.
As my feet pound the dirt, I hear steps behind me. Someone is running after me. Chasing me. I look back and see only the glimmer of light off metal again. Fear grips me, and I turn up the speed. I call out for Xavier. For Dean. There is no answer.
I
