The Maze The Lost Labyrinth

CHAPTER 33



“Come on out now, darling.” Darrell Gene held the knife at Judith’s throat. “We’re all waiting to see what Miss America looks like.”

Peter squirmed in Judith’s grasp, whining. She miraculously managed to keep him under control, even at knifepoint.

“Leave Amy alone.”

Carl struggled to speak with his hands and feet tied behind his back. The floor beneath him was covered in a sticky maroon puddle from the deep wound Darrell Gene gave him. The blood stood out in stark contrast against his pale, pasty complexion.

“Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, Carl. I won’t hurt a hair on her head. She’s going to be my wife, after all. She‘s got to look good for the pictures. It just wouldn‘t do to have her all banged up and bruised. I‘ll save that part for the honeymoon.”

Carl went back to praying silently, closing his eyes against the pain. Darrell Gene returned his focus to the bedroom door.

“Time’s up, sweetheart. Let’s see just how pretty you really are.”

The door opened and at first no one was there.

“I said come out. I want to see you. Don‘t be shy.”

Amy emerged clothed in delicate white silk, looking like an older, more tired version of the girl who had gotten married all those years ago. Darrell Gene gasped at the sight of Amy standing there in her wedding gown.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “You’re a regular little angel, and I should know. Judith, dear, do you happen to have a camera handy?”

“There’s one in the desk drawer.”

“Well, don’t just sit there playing babysitter. Get up and get it. We’ve got family pictures to take.”

Amy froze. “Family pictures? I’m not taking any kind of pictures with you. You‘re not my family!”

“I think you’ll reconsider that. In fact, not only are you going to be in the picture, staring lovingly into my eyes. But the baby’s gonna be in it too. We’re going to be one big happy family, and the camera‘s gonna capture it all for posterity. Since your husband is gone, it only feels right that I do the manly thing and step in to take his place.”

“No.” Amy’s lower lip began to quiver. “Jamie isn’t gone.”

“He left you for someone else. He apparently didn‘t want his family, but I do. I think we‘ll all get along nicely.”

“No!” Amy wept, crushed by the impossibility of the situation.

“Yes!” Darrell Gene waved the knife around in joyous, festive circles above his head. “Now’s let’s show the camera how much we love each other.”

For the “wedding pictures,” Darrell Gene insisted that they recreate the poses featured on the mantle. Judith snapped the first photo as Darrell Gene and Amy stared into each other’s eyes. The camera couldn’t see the knife that was pressed against her stomach. All it captured was the hatred in Amy’s eyes and the mirth in Darrell Gene’s.

The next pose featured Darrell Gene shoving a hunk of chocolate cake into Amy’s mouth. It was a pose expected from all newly-married couples. The tears, however, were completely optional. Amy decided to include them because she couldn’t have done any differently.

The one that nearly sent her over the edge though was the snapshot of the three of them together. Darrell Gene insisted on holding Peter. It was all Amy could do to stifle her sobs long enough to force a smile that looked more like a grimace of pain.

“Isn’t this fun?” Darrell Gene said as Peter began to cry.

“I can’t imagine being dipped in honey and covered in fire ants could be any more of a joy,” Judith spoke sarcastically as she snapped picture after picture. At first she, too, had balked at the idea of family pictures, but she soon realized that this was buying them some much needed time. Who knew when Darrell Gene would grow tired of this masquerade and kill them all?

There was another reason she was so eager to continue taking pictures. The whir and click of the telephoto lens masked Carl’s struggle on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him desperately trying to fish his cell phone out of his pocket.

He seemed to be having some success, but there was no way of telling if he would be able to dial 911 before Darrell Gene grew tired of posing for the camera. The phones hadn’t worked thus far. Maybe he would get lucky.