Stopping to regroup, I reminded myself that I’d been lost in a laurel bald once and had managed to find my way out. That particular thicket had covered the whole side of a mountain, the vegetation so dense in places that I’d had to drop to my hands and knees and crawl through the narrow channels with a killer on my trail.
This maze had been planted by my great-grandmother, and though it seemed large from the inside, I doubted it covered much more than a few acres. Since the cemetery lay directly south of where I’d left my car, all I had to do was use the position of the sun and the compass app on my phone to work my way out.
With that plan in mind, I resumed my journey, taking the time to carefully chart a new course each time I came to a dead end, heading due north whenever possible. As I made my way through, I tried to listen for snapping twigs or hurrying footsteps—or the drone of bees—but all was silent inside the hedges.
The farther I traveled, the more convinced I became that I was in no real danger. Micah hadn’t made a move toward me in the cemetery nor had he threatened me that day in the Unitarian Churchyard. Maybe I’d overreacted, giving him exactly what he wanted.
I trudged on until the shrubbery thinned and I could see an archway just ahead. But I hadn’t found my way back to the road or my car, I soon realized. Somehow the wrong turn had taken me to another opening in the maze.
The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the hedges was a dilapidated house. It had once been white, but most of the paint had peeled away and the rotting boards had weathered to gray. Pieces of latticework clung to either end of the sagging front porch and I could see the jagged teeth of broken windows both upstairs and down. Beyond the yard, the remains of an outbuilding peeked up out of the trees, and the rusty squeak of a weather vane sent a shiver down my spine.
Despite years of neglect, I recognized the house from the stereogram. Rose had once lived in those shadowy rooms, sequestered from her family and tormented by a horde of angry, restless ghosts. She may even have gouged out her eyes and hanged herself because of their relentless pursuit. If ever a place could be haunted, it would be my great-grandmother’s home.
The tumbledown dwelling seemed to call out to me, but this was not the time for exploration. I needed to find my way back to the car and make sure Dr. Shaw was safe. Now that I was out of the maze, I had a better sense of direction and felt certain if I kept heading north, I would eventually come out at the road.
Checking the compass and the position of the sun, I set out once again only to freeze at a sudden noise. Somewhere in the maze, a ringtone had gone off. The sound of civilization beckoned even as I held back in alarm. As much as I wanted to believe that I was in no real danger from any of the Kroll relatives, I would be foolish to let down my guard, especially in such a remote location.
As I stood there with an ear turned toward the maze, the ringing stopped but I feared that Micah or one of the others was headed straight toward me. I could go back into the maze and try to elude him or I could hide out in the woods. But if he released the bees, my only hope was shelter.
I whirled back to the house. The stare of all those darkened windows was like a silent invitation.
Skirting the edge of the yard so as not to leave a path of flattened weeds, I made my way around to the back of the house where the woods had long since encroached.
Piles of bones from small prey littered the clearing and the putrid odor of a fresher kill drifted out from beneath the porch. As I neared the back steps, a feeling of oppression descended and the smell of rotting flesh turned my stomach. Kneeling at the bottom of the stairs, I peered up under the porch. I could just make out a small gate in the enclosure. As my gaze traveled along the fence, I suddenly had the sense that something was holed up in the shadows watching me.
I jumped to my feet and scrambled back into the yard. I would take my chances in the woods, I decided. Or I would go into the maze. I would seek shelter anywhere but inside that house. Bad things had happened there. It wasn’t just the smell emanating from beneath the porch or the skeletal remains that littered the yard. I could sense the creep of something cold and dark and inhuman from behind that fence.
The urge to retreat consumed me, but even as I backed away from the porch, a little voice reminded me that I had come here to find out why Rose’s ghost haunted me. To solve the mystery of her cemetery puzzle. The answer might well lie within the peeling walls of her long-abandoned home.
Not to mention that I still needed cover if Micah Durant decided to summon his bees.