I hit the ground hard and roll, catching only a glimpse of a hooded man, the scythe, dripping with my blood, barely visible above the stalks as he dives back in.
Chapter Seventeen
“What the hell?” I cry out as I clamp one hand down over the wound.
I get to my feet and take back off, rounding a corner in the direction the hooded man went and nearly run face-first into Dean.
“Jesus,” he exclaims as we grab each other, so we don’t body check each other to the ground. “I heard you scream. Are you okay?”
“One of these sons of bitches cut me!” I say, realizing I am yelling. “It was a real scythe. The idiot had a real scythe!”
“What?” Dean stammers, completely confused.
“It doesn’t matter. I saw Xavier. He was going this way,” I say, chancing one last look down the direction the blade disappeared. Everything that way is silent and still.
“We need to get you bandaged,” Dean says.
“We need to find Xavier,” I tell him forcefully. “There’s someone running around in this maze with a real weapon. I don’t think it’s part of the show.”
Dean’s face hardens, and he nods.
We take off in the direction I saw Xavier running. We round a corner and come to a skidding stop. Xavier is lying on the ground, in the middle of another fork.
“Xavier!”
I rush toward him and drop to my knees on the ground beside him.
“What’s going on?” Xavier asks as I yank open his jacket looking for wounds. “I’m fine.”
“What?” I ask. “You’re not hurt?”
“No,” he says, a confused, almost sour look on his face. “Emma, look,” he says. I try to follow his gaze. He points up, into the inky black sky, littered with distant white lights. “Find the belt. It can guide you.”
“Orion’s belt,” Dean says. “He’s looking at the stars.”
“That’s right,” I say, setting my forehead onto his chest for a moment to catch my breath and compose myself. “You can find your way out by the stars, Xavier.”
As I look up again, he grins at me, and I help him to his feet.
“I know how to get out from here,” Dean says. “Let’s just stay together, okay?”
“I am—I am never splitting up with you again, Dean,” I manage a chuckle. The chase left me exhausted.
Xavier nods, and we begin to jog, following Dean. When we get into the light, Xavier grabs me by the arm and pulls me to him.
“Dean,” he calls out, alarmed. “Dean, she’s hurt!”
“I know. We need to get her bandaged up,” Dean says, jogging back to us. “Oh.”
“Oh? Oh what?” I ask, still struggling to get out a full breath.
“That is a lot of blood,” Xavier says, his voice lucid and in control. “You need to get out of here right now. To help.”
I look down at my arm for the first time since I ran into Dean. Blood soaks my shirt, and my hand is a mask of red. As soon as I notice it, I realize I am getting light-headed from blood loss.
“The exit is just down here,” Dean says. “Let’s go.”
We move quickly, and a few turns later, we exit the corn maze into the empty field, and the bright lights of the entranceway to the maze.
We burst out of the maze and run over to a pile of hay bales stacked to one side. Dean turns me around and sits me down, pulling off my jacket so he can better see the cut on my arm.
“What the hell is going on?” Carl demands, stalking toward us. “I told you we're closed, and you went in there to have your own private tour.”
“Call the police,” Dean says.
“You know, I should,” he sneers.
Dean stands up and takes a sharp step toward him, getting to within only a couple of inches of his face.
“Now,” he growls. “Call the police and get an ambulance.”
“An ambulance?” he asks, looking around Dean. The color drains from his face when he sees my arm. “What happened?”
“There's a man in the maze with a scythe,” I tell him. “A reaper.”
Carl shakes his head. “No. We don't have any actors dressed as a reaper with a scythe.”
“I didn't say there was an actor,” I say. “It's real. The scythe. He attacked me with it.”
He holds up his hands like he's trying to prove his innocence, shaking his head, and backing up from me.
“I don't know what's going on here, but there's nobody in that maze but some teenage kids earning a couple of bucks an hour to jump out and scare people,” he says.
“Look,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “I don't care what you think. You have a wounded FBI agent here, and I suggest you stop trying to cover your ass and do what I say. Call the police and an ambulance. Now.”
Dean comes back to me and looks at my arm. He stands up and walks over to a scarecrow a couple of feet away. Pulling off its shirt, he tears the fabric into strips and wraps them tightly around my arm to stop the bleeding.
“Xavier,” I say, my words very quiet to preserve my strength. “You told me you saw the reaper.”
“Yes,” he nods. “He was in the maze.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No,” he says.
“Did he come after you?”
“Yes,” he says. “That's why I ran.”
I nod and look at Dean. “That was no kid. Somebody knows Xavier is out, and we had access to the temple. They're trying to stop us. This was a warning.”
“I'm sorry,” Xavier says.
“There's no reason for you to be sorry,” I tell him. “You didn't do this. Besides, did you have fun?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
I smile at him through the pain. “Good. That's good.”
“Emma, you doing okay?” Dean asks.
“Feeling light-headed,” I say.
“They're going to be here soon,” he tells me. “Just stay awake.”
“I am,” I nod. “I'll
