Definitely Bale.
One more sharp exhale, and I crossed the threshold.
Let the chase begin.
My sneakers kicked up dirt as I began running. Each step forward was an attempt to move faster than myheart was racing. The first few turns pulled me into the depths of the maze, guiding me towards where inevitably I’d have to make a choice.
Trust your instincts, not your eyes.
The thought played on a loop inside my head.
Above, I could hear an ominous caw tearing through the night air. I didn’t look up, I just kept moving forward. The further I could get through this giant puzzle, the better off my chances were.
Coming to the first choice, right or left, I took the path that put me further from the start. No maze was going to be easy enough to draw you right back to where you began. Especially not one that was designed to lead you to your death.
The first ten minutes of navigating the corridors of corn left me with a false sense of confidence and safety. My feet slowed, needing to catch my breath.
I could have shifted into my feline form, but I wanted to reserve all my energy for the last leg of this deadly race against time. This was only stage one: placement. Stage two, I’d inevitably run into the guys. And stage three, that was where everything was on the line.
Despite my brisk walking pace, I kept moving, refusing to stop my progress for something as stupid as oxygen in my lungs.
A rustle of corn leaves behind me put me on edge, turning me around to see what had made the noise.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing but shadows and crops.
Turning around again, what had been a straight path moments ago was now a T in the walkway.
Fuck. This is what they meant by the corn couldn’t even be trusted.
Approaching the decision point, I tried to push through the wall of corn, but there was no give. It unnaturally refused to let me push through. I’d have better odds against a steel wall.
Taking a deep breath, I turned left.
The moonlight shone on the exposed dirt. A message was carved into the earth itself:
YOU RUN.
WE HUNT.
YOU LOSE.
Mental fuckery at its finest.
I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. My head was screaming to bolt in the other direction. Instinct told me to push through.
Instinct won.
Picking up the pace again, I jogged down the path. My steps stomped over the taunting message.
Each chosen turn after that point, I made a gut feeling alone. The sound of wings beating and dark laughter unsettled me, but I refused to backtrack now.
Hitting a dead end, I cursed.
I turned my back to the wall of corn to observe whereI had just come from. Every section looked the same, leaving my positional awareness in the maze skewed.
Before I could decide to go back to the last turning point, a familiar set of arms grabbed me from behind. A hand clamped down over my mouth as I was swallowed up by the same stalks of corn that had blocked my path seconds ago.
The dry leaves protested, rasping against my jeans and the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt. It felt like going through an automated car wash—towers of bristles scrubbing at me, trying to strip me clean.
