The Maze The Lost Labyrinth

CHAPTER 6



The air was filled with noise. Clanging steel. Chuffing engines. Grinding gears. Smashing rocks. It sounded like it was raining hammers.

Iron gates locked into place. Waters rushed to fill unseen moats. Deadly machinery was set to trigger even deadlier devices. The construction of the maze was almost complete.

Bricks were laid using grief as a mortar. Walls were cemented into place with sorrow. Lights were forsaken in favor of darkness. Crude agonizing designs were etched into the floors, and the history of one man’s sin was scrawled in painstaking detail on every inch of the dreadful place.

Amy might have heard the noises of construction, but Peter screamed too loudly for her to think straight. Although he was only two years old, he sensed that something was wrong, that there was turmoil in his house.

As calmly as she could under the circumstances, Amy got Peter a sippy cup of juice, kissed him gently on the head, and put him in bed. She went to the couch and collapsed in an exhausted heap, weeping as she read the note that someone had dropped in their mailbox.

Was it possible? Had Jamie really done such a thing? When she asked him about his loyalty to her earlier in the day, she hadn't been all that worried. More than anything else, she wanted to hear him say that he loved her and that he would never do anything like that to hurt her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that there might have been any actual guilt. She felt like a fool.

She paced about the living room, alternately crying and wringing her hands. She picked up her phone and put it back down. A couple of times she grabbed the car keys. She even went as far as to dig the suitcase out of the hall closet, but she wasn’t going to leave. Not yet anyway.

All she had to go on was a crudely scrawled anonymous note accusing her husband of infidelity; that wasn’t worth risking Peter’s happiness. She wanted to hear Jamie’s side of things, especially now that she had a name to go along with the crime.

Although it hurt like a thousand knives to the heart, Amy read the note one last time and wept openly.

“Ur husband is having an affair with Karen.”

With trembling hands, she picked up the phone and dialed her husband's number. She had to know and couldn't wait any longer. The not knowing was killing her.

“Hey,” Jamie said. “What's up? I'm sorry I didn't get to call you at lunch.”

“I just got a note about you.” Amy struggled to keep her voice from cracking. “Who is Karen?”

“Karen?” Jamie repeated. He tried to seem clueless but overcompensated in the process.

“Yes, Karen. Who is she?”

“Just a friend. Why are you asking?”

“The note says you are having an affair with her. Is that true?”

Jamie went quiet on the other end, and struggled to find his voice.

“Who told you that?”

“I don't know. They left a note. That's not what's important though. I need to know if it's true.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then why would someone say that?”

Jamie wasn't sure how to respond. His mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening to him.

“Is it true? Say something, Jamie! Talk to me! Are you cheating on me? When I asked you this morning, I was only mildly concerned. Now, I'm scared to death. Is there someone else?”

Jamie sighed. “No, there's no one else. Just you.”

“So you haven't talked to this woman? You don't have her phone number? What is your connection to her?”

Jamie stuttered and stammered, knowing how everything was going to look.

“She's an old girlfriend. I haven't seen her since high school.”

“But you've seen her recently.”

“I just saw her today for the first time in years. I haven't slept with her.”

“You can be unfaithful without sex.” Amy seethed. “I need to know the whole story here!”

“I will come home so we can talk about this.”

“You can talk to me now!”

“I think it's better if we do this in person. It’s not what you think.”

“Don't you dare come home!” Amy broke down in tears, although she had vowed not to. “I don't want to see your face right now!”

“Amy...”

“I can either pack mine and Peter's things or you can pack yours. The choice is yours.”

“Babe, please...”

Amy hung up on him.

She collapsed in a crumpled heap on the kitchen floor, sobbing so hard her breath came in ragged hitches. This wasn't supposed to happen to her.

What nobody bothered to tell Amy was that, in every war, collateral damage was inevitable.

Those tears flowed even harder a few moments later when a photo popped up in her text folder from a number she didn't recognize. Amy shrieked when she saw a time-stamped picture of Jamie taken at lunch earlier in the day. She didn't have to read the waitress' name tag to know that the raven-haired beauty was Karen. Karen's hand was on top of Jamie's, and she wore a smile reminiscent of any man-eating predator.

It was a look of hunger.