Page 20 of Harvest Maze

Another ghostly caress ran over my skin.

The noise around me faded away. I looked over the staging area, trying to figure out what had my skin breaking out in gooseflesh. No one looked back at me. I turned to the corn. It was too dark to see between the stalks. The wind made it rustle and crackle like dried bones reaching out of the earth to ensnare the souls brave enough—or stupid enough—to venture into its embrace.

“Hey, cool costume,” Giosuè said. “That Scream paint must have taken hours.”

Oh, he was talking to me. I scoffed. “I’m a sugar skull! Not the Scream guy.”

I wasn’t going to come to a haunted maze, treat myself to some fun, and wear regular clothing. Stopping at a vintage store ensured I found the pieces exactly how I wanted them to look. A velvet, long-sleeved dress hugged my curves, and the ankle boots were to die for!

“You look amazing, Ives.” Sara peered up at me through the thick spectacles. She was supposed to be a version of Wednesday Addams. But the glasses were real, not part of the costume.

“Y’all look great too,” I beamed. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Sara smiled softly and turned away. “Me too.”

“Next time, we do a group thing,” Maria jerked her thumb at Wednesday and Batman and me. “I want to have good pictures for our Instagram!”

“No, I’m not going to be part of your social media fame,” Giosuè protested.

Well, shit. They were going to make us come again.

Maybe if he comes with….

The thought of going through the spooky maze with a mountain of a man like Demyan at my side made the fear knotting my gut lessen. He wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I could hold his hand. That might just be what I needed to make this experience fun.

“And I don’t do black,” Maria interjected, smoothing her shimmery pink dress over her curves.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Back me up, Ivry? Black is the best color.”

“Goth Barbie?” I offered lamely, to which my friends rolled their eyes.

As we finally stepped to the front of the line, another rush of eerie chills settled over me. I rubbed my arms, searching one more time for the source. This felt different. The anticipation of being scared, of being chased by monsters and ghouls, coursed through everyone here. The excitement hitched as we waited under the gruesome entrance.

But this kiss of the wind felt personal, directed at me.

“Let’s go!” Maria squealed, pushing several of our friends forward. Her white plastic boots slid against the ground, and Matteo, dressed in some kind of Star Wars outfit, had to catch her as we were finally allowed inside.

A chainsaw roared to our right. Crows chanted to the left. The first bend plunged us into shadows, the narrow, red LED strips ran along the side of the path the only light.

“Be ready for the first jump, in three—two—one—”

“Shut up, Kenneth.” Maria poked him before letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

Sara rolled her eyes at me. “Oscar award there.”

I snorted. “Best supporting actress.”

This wasn’t too bad. The frosty air lent a delicious flavor to the night. Every few feet there was another surprise. We were chased by fiends. Misdirected down the wrong path by ghouls. Trapped by zombies. There were obstacle courses and challenges.

It was exactly the kind of fun hard-working people deserved.

Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut. As ridiculous as it sounded, I felt like I was being followed.

Soon Maria’s voice was hoarse, her arms covered in scrapes from the corn cobs. I was relieved to discover that I was bored with the scares. They were all the same and very predictable. Most of the props were from last year.

Maybe I should join the committee and breathe life into the maze.

Yeah, right!