Page 41 of Stay Scared

The maze bends around abandoned game stalls left from the original park. Canvas gives way to warped plywood beside a ring-toss booth, where dusty bottles still sit on pegs behind the counter.

A mechanical clown head snaps upright when I cross a pressure plate, its jaw opening with a burst of recorded laughter. I duck beneath the swinging arm and cut behind the booth.

Cade takes the wider path and hits the counter instead of slowing. Bottles rattle across their pegs, and one breaks behind me.

I grin before I can stop myself.

His boots come harder.

I squeeze between two game stalls. The opening tears at the shoulder of my jacket, rough plywood scraping the fabric as I force myself through. Cade has to turn sideways behind me, and the straps and buckles across his tactical vest drag against the frame long enough to cost him several seconds.

He strikes the plywood once in frustration.

I laugh.

“There you are,” he calls.

I run faster.

The passage opens onto a midway beneath a sagging canopy, water stains erasing half the painted prizes from the old game signs overhead.

A performer in a burlap rabbit mask erupts from beneath the counter of a shooting gallery. I dodge left before he fully rises, and his fingers miss my jacket.

“You’re early.”

The rabbit points behind me.

I don’t need to look back.

Cade comes through the curtain at the far end of the midway with his skull angled toward my route. He slows long enough to notice the rabbit, then flicks two fingers toward a staff opening. The performer disappears through it.

Cade keeps coming.

I cut between two booths where the gap narrows enough to scrape my sleeve along one wall. Cade follows, one shoulder striking plywood as he forces his larger frame through.

Every turn buys me seconds. His boots keep taking them back.

A shooting gallery opens ahead, rows of metal ducks lined behind a low counter. The walkway splits near a curtain painted with a red target. The narrow route would make Cade turn sideways again.

I take the wider one.

His pace changes immediately. I hear it behind me.

I could still duck beneath the counter, but I choose not to.

Cade reaches the turn before I clear it. One hand catches the railing in front of me while his other arm plants against the wall behind my shoulder, closing the route around us.

The hard front of his tactical vest brushes my shoulder blades. The skull mask hovers beside my face, his chest close enough that every breath shifts the gear against my back.

“You took the wide lane on purpose.”

“I noticed.”

“You wanted me closer.”

“I wanted to see whether you were paying attention.”

His painted teeth nearly brush my hair. “You already know I am.”