Chapter 21 - A Grim Encounter

"Listen up everyone." A husky voice crackled over the Walkie Talkie. "We have people starting to line up."

I tried to find Carmen, but she found me instead. "Chaos, did you hear that?"

I nodded. "Sounds like we better hurry."

We both stopped dead in our tracks when someone turned off the outside lights, leaving us in cold, hard darkness. I plucked a flashlight from the bag, clicking it on just as someone else turned on the haunted house noises. Creepy organ music drifted in the darkness. Every once in a while the sounds of wolves howling, glass breaking, and a woman's screams could be heard mingling with the eerie music.

As promised, when the black lights flickered to life the barn turned into a sadistic looking fun house. A well hidden fog machine created thick, tinted clouds of bluish smoke that crept along the barn floor like a serpent.

Carmen and I made our way to the entrance of the maze, lugging the bag of flashlights while making sure that all the signs we'd made with arrows on them pointed in the right directions. I didn't want anyone to get lost and end up in the forest beyond the cornfield.

Just the thought made me shiver. Already cold, the windless air was becoming even colder. For once, I wished I'd brought a coat.

I glanced up as we walked side by side. Unlike this morning, there wasn't a single cloud overhead to spoil the view. The moonless sky looked like it was covered in a blanket of stars. Sounds of the band warming up drifted to my ears, leaving me covered in goosebumps.

When we finally reached the gate, swarms of people waiting all huddled together to keep warm talked excitedly.

I fumbled with the Walkie Talkie until I figured out how to operate it. Pushing a button on the side, I said, "Okay mom, we're in place."

"Alright, everyone else ready?" One by one, mom's friends sounded off.

A guy dressed as Frankenstein had been watching over the increasing crowd. I approached and cautiously tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and winced at the light I'd shown right in his face. I wasn't taking any chances with strangers. Even underneath all that green makeup I could tell it was Chief Madden, a close personal friend of my mothers.

"You two ready to take over?" he asked. Carmen and I nodded. "When I'm inside the barn, I'll let you know. " I watched him disappear in the darkness and took my place beside Carmen at the gate.

As soon as the visitors noticed us, they started to form a line. I glanced over at Carmen. She was a nervous ball of energy.

"Chaos, I'm in position," Frankenstein called.

I Walkie-Talkied him back. "Get ready, we're opening the flood gates."

Taking a deep breath, I swung open the large wooden gate and started admitting people. The hardest part was making sure the ones who wanted to stay in a group were allowed to go in together. Carmen made sure to leave extra room between parties, so people didn't get too crowded.

We tried handing out flashlights, but most people just waved us off. Such brave little souls.

"I bet this is going to be stupid," I heard Brian say. He sounded like his typical cynical self.

I was suddenly glad I hadn't changed my mind about accepting the Guardian's help after all. Brian handed me his admission fee. As I reached out to take it, he held onto the bills longer than necessary, before finally letting go.

I met his bold stare, trying my best not to smile.

Too bad it didn't work.

I had a hard time believing that he was actually paying me to scare the hell out of him. The thought was sobering.

He'd brought Mindee with him, of course. I would've been extremely disappointed if she'd missed out on all the fun. The rest of the in-crowd, which consisted of the entire football team, the cheer squad, and pretty much the entire school, was right behind them.

"Flashlight?" Carmen offered politely, batting her fake eyelashes.

"No. We won't need one," Brian said, shoving it back at her.

"This is going to be so lame," Mindee complained. The cheer-tots echoed their agreement like good little clones.

I purposely waited for the people ahead of Brian's group to shuffle past the first couple of turns, before I finally let them in. The calm, windless night gave way to ear piercing screams off in the distance.

The in-crowd started snickering. Especially Brian. "Scared of their own shadows," he laughed, glancing at his friends. When finished, he turned his attention on me.

This is the part where I was supposed to be intimidated.

I wasn't. Not even close.

I calmly stepped aside, allowing them to enter. "Oh, by the way, my mom is giving out free T-shirts in the barn. You might want to grab one," is what I said. What I didn't say was, "The T-shirt will probably be your only dry piece of clothing."

Brian and Mindee smirked as they walked past me. Some of the kids in his group looked bored, while others got rowdy and started to rough-house. "Keep your hands to yourself and have fun," Carmen called, as they entered the maze.

"Don't worry, we won't!" someone shouted.

Carmen's body jerked forward. I had to grab her wrist to keep her from going after whoever had made the snarky comment.

"Never underestimate the stupidity of idiots," I cautioned. She gave me a funny look. "They'll get what's coming to them..."

How did that saying go again? Oh yeah! Karma's a bitch.

Carmen closed the gate. Not only to allow Brian and his massive group to get far enough ahead before we admitted anyone else, but also because we wanted to enjoy their terror – uninterrupted. Being bad felt good.

The anticipation was like waiting for the ax to fall. Exciting for us, yet gruesome and terrifying for the ones who's heads were on the chopping block.

We took an extra long time before admitting more visitors. People waiting in line started to get antsy. I peeked and saw that the line went clear back to the greenhouses, disappearing around it.

"I sure hope we have room at the concert for everyone," I said, motioning with a finger so Carmen would look.

Her mouth fell open. "I didn't count on this kind of a turnout."

"Well, probably not everyone is gonna stay."

She nodded. "True, but most of them will."

All of a sudden we heard shrieks off in the darkness, followed by ear splitting screams. I would've given just about anything to see their faces. Instead of the noise dying down, the screams started up again, coming in wave after wave of blood curdling terror.

The sound was positively deafening. My eyes opened wide as I stared at Carmen. Neither of us said anything.

People in line forced to hear all the commotion, started getting excited.

Pretty soon the first visitors made their way through the maze and came out to tell their friends, still waiting in line, how awesome and scary the experience was. People dove on their phones to call friends.

I turned to Carmen. "Great. We could be here all night."

She smiled. "That's okay with me. We're a hit."

Somewhere off in the distance we started hearing applause as people began cheering and whistling.

We actually had to extend the hours, staying open until the last two visitors exited the maze. By the time it was all over, I couldn't feel my fingers or my toes. But it had been worth it. The energy of the crowd waiting for the band to perform was electrifying.

"That's a wrap people," my mom called over the Walkie-Talkie. "Come get warmed up."

"Ouch, my feet hurt," I complained, as we made our way to the clearing.

"You're such a woos," Carmen laughed. "Rednecks shouldn't wear heels."

I pretended to laugh. "Ha ha. I'm in serious pain here. Why do you have to make fun of me?"

She smiled. "It's hard not to. Trust me, my piggies are squealin' too."

I felt a whine coming on. "Carry me?"

"Only if you carry me first."

My teeth started to chatter. "Na-na...never mind."

"Chaos?" A voice crackled over the Walkie-Talkie. "This is Chief Madden.

"Yes, Chief. What is it?"

"A member of the band is missing."

Carmen and I gasped. My frozen fingers fumbled to press the button. "Who?"

We waited nervously for a response. "Your mother tells me his name is Skylar."

I sucked in my breath, remembering Thomas' warning. No longer worried about myself, I had to worry about everyone around me.

My mom's voice came over the Walkie-Talkie next. "Nick just told me that Skylar went to get his jacket out of the van over an hour ago. No one has seen him since."

"In that case, he would've had to come past us," Carmen said, encouragingly. "And since he didn't, that must mean he's still somewhere in the maze. Let's split up." She pointed over her shoulder. "I'll take the short cut. You take the long way, since you know it better, and we'll meet back at the stage." Fear must've shown on my face because she added, "Don't worry, Chaos. We'll find him."

She wouldn't say that if she knew the truth.

We each took a flashlight and went our separate ways. I explained our game plan for locating Skylar to Chief Madden. Since we needed a police presence for crowd control, he agreed stay behind and made us promise to keep him informed.

It was better this way. If Skylar really was lost, I needed to be alone to find him. My senses worked better without the interference of those around me anyway. Besides, this wasn't my first rodeo. Plenty of children, as well as adults, had gotten themselves lost in the past. This year, with Carmen's help, I thought we'd idiot proofed the maze with all the ropes and signs.

Guess not.

Alert now, I no longer worried about how much my feet hurt. Guided forward with renewed strength and energy, I peered into the blackness and kept moving along the winding pathways.

In stressful times like this it was important to stay focused and remain positive. I had to force myself to keep my thoughts from wandering to all the what if's. The one thing I did allow myself to think about was...where in the crap was Thomas when I really needed him for a change?

As I walked I couldn't help noticing that some of the signs with arrows pointing the right direction, had been torn completely off. Some of the ropes we'd put up were also missing. No wonder Skylar got lost.

Great, just great. He could be anywhere in ten miles of cornfields. Probably also why I hadn't sensed him. He was simply too far away.

I pressed the button on the Walkie-Talkie to inform Chief Madden, when I heard a noise. Heading north, I took a sharp left turn down a narrow path that had been roped off. Some body must've tried to trick people into going the wrong way.

I tried calling out to Skylar, but there was no answer. After walking a few hundred feet more, I thought I heard a voice call out and shined my flashlight in the direction. "I'm coming!"

"Chaos?" Skylar shouted.

"Yes, I hear you. Keep talking."

I ran as fast as I could. Good thing I wasn't chewing gum. I turned a sharp corner and we practically ran into each other.

"I'm saved!" he said, giving me a big hug.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess," he said, eyeballing me. "You must be freezing! At least I found my jacket before I got lost." He took it off, placing the jacket around my shoulders. It was warm and smelled like him. A combination of cinnamon and honeyed sweetness. The scent reminded me of a bakery. Yum.

"Thanks." My knees started to tremble, and it wasn't from the cold. I couldn't take my eyes off him as I stared into those huge chocolate eyes, drinking in his features. Long, black lashes fanned out almost touching his high cheekbones when he closed his eyes. Between his perfectly straight nose, luscious pink lips, and the delicate curve of his jaw, there was nothing ordinary about him. Skylar wasn't just beautiful, he was simply too terrifyingly beautiful for words.

"Do you think we should head back?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?"

"Do you think we should head back?

"Back?" It took a moment for the words to sink in. "Oh." I blushed, cheeks on fire. "Take you back, you mean." No, I would much rather stay out here and smell you.

He nodded.

I stumbled over my words. "Because everyone's waiting for you."

He nodded again.

"Yes, we should definitely get going."

Instead of moving, I just kept staring at him vaguely aware that we were having a conversation, but I had absolutely no idea what it was about.

"Now?" he urged.

I smiled dreamily. "Now what?"

Skylar narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? I think the cold has gotten to you." He put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I melted against his warmth. "Do you think you can lead the way?"

"Lead," I repeated. He frowned when I didn't move and it broke the spell. "Oh. Lead the way, you mean. Yes, I can do that," I muttered, beating myself up inside. Master of the obvious.

That's when I smelled it.

The thick, cloying odor of decay. Sickeningly sweet, it was the unmistakable stench of putrefying blood. The smell of death.

My body filled with cold, hard dread. Between the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, and the rush of heat surging in my veins, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that something bad was coming our way.

I stiffened, lowering my voice. "If I were you, I'd get out of here."

"Chaos," Skylar began, voice tentative. "I thought that's what we were doing."

Clearly, he was unaware of the danger.

The noxious smell became overpowering. He must've noticed it too because he followed my gaze, protectively pulling me closer to his body as heavy footsteps drew near. With each step, I distinctly heard the clinking sound of metal chains.

If my experience with Beastie had taught me anything, whatever was heading this way only wanted me. With the realization came the desperate need to protect Skylar and get him to safety.

My first attempt to warn him had failed.

Time for action.

I pulled out of his arms. "You missed your cue."

Skylar looked at me puzzled. "What?"

I listened intently to the footsteps closing in – chains rattling together like something out of a bad horror movie.

We were almost out of time. I locked eyes with Skylar. "Run."

He hesitated, not moving, so I said it again. This time even louder, screaming it in his face. "RUN!"

That worked.

I watched him disappear into the field on my right. As the rustle of dry cornstalks grew more and more distant, I knew he'd kept right on running to safety.

Eyes returning to the path, my stomach lurched as a figure emerged from the shadowy darkness. I realized with a fright that it was the very same guy that had skeezed-me-out earlier. Dressed all in black, his cape billowed out behind him like monstrous black wings as he approached, wielding a razor sharp scythe deftly with one hand.

Unable to tear my eyes away, I watched in morbid fascination as he stalked towards me – a predator about to descend on his prey.

My heart pounded in my throat like a trapped thing. Fear grabbed hold of me, refusing to let go. For some inexplicable reason, the surge of panic left a bad taste in my mouth. Like something solid and metallic.

As he closed the last remaining distance between us, I felt a scream relentlessly clawing at my throat, but knew if I opened my mouth to let it out I would never stop screaming.

Everything seemed to slow down as my eyes drank in his gruesome appearance. The clanking metal sound came from chains wrapped around the waist of his full length, tattered black robe while his face remained hidden behind a menacing skull mask partially covered by the hood of his Grim Reaper costume.

Swallowing hard, I didn't have to guess what he looked like underneath that hood. The image of Beatie's ruined face was forever etched in my mind, so I had a pretty good idea of what the decaying flesh looked like underneath Grim's mask. And more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, I desperately wanted Grim to keep it on. In this case, one ruined face where rotting skin barely clung to exposed bone was definitely enough.

As Grim stepped impossibly closer, I could see something thick and nasty oozing from his hands. Not blood exactly. It was thicker and much darker. Like blood mixed with body fluids.

My gaze automatically shifted to the six foot wooden handle of the scythe and the inhumanly long, bony fingers with nails like black daggers that curled around it in a death grip.

I was clueless as to how to protect myself against a giant of a man nearly twice my height. And not only that, a man who easily outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds.

Can't a girl get a break?

Grim stopped less than five feet away from me. Raising the super sharp scythe over his head, he tilted the blade at an angle. Seized by terror so completely as he brought the weapon down, I couldn't seem to make my feet move, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I ducked.

Clutching my knees to my chest in an effort to make my body as small a target as possible, the blade sliced through the air where I'd been standing only a second ago.

Clearly, that first swing had been meant as a warning. Otherwise, he could've easily cut me in half even though I was hunched over.

Grim jerked forward to stand over me. The chains, swinging wildly back and forth with the force of the movement, almost hit me in the face. I don't quite know why, but I glanced at his boots – which were kind of hard to miss in this position – and I recognized them right away as ones sold only at Hot Topic.

The three inch platform heels were caked with mud. Made out of thick black leather, the boots had more straps with thick silver buckles than I could count. However, it was the chains with little skulls and crossbones dangling from them that really got my attention.

Call it a hunch, but I thought it highly unlikely that an adult would ever be caught wearing boots like that. Which could only mean one thing.

Grim was just a kid.

Gee, I wasn't sure which was worse; dying right before I turned sixteen, or dying at the hands of a sixteen-year-old. I couldn't decide, so I didn't pick either. I'd rather not die any time soon, thank you very much.

I winced as I stood up, slowly unfolding my body. Relieved I was still in one piece, I inhaled deeply and gasped. Pain lanced diagonally across my back. In that instant I knew the leather bodice of my costume took most of the damage, but not all. I was hurt and could feel the warm blood trickling down my back, soaking into the thin fabric of my skirt. Lifting my head, I stared into those cold, dead eyes under that diabolically repulsive mask.

"I have orders to take you to my master," he said, in a voice that was almost a growl.

Haunting images flashed in my mind of being captured and then tortured to give up my soul, writhing in pain – my body streaked with blood –  hair caked with sweat and matted to my skull.

Okay, maybe I was being dramatic. But only just a little.

Lifting my chin defiantly, I practically spat the words at him. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Then you must die," he roared, moving to reposition. Now holding the scythe in his slimy hands like a baseball bat, he prepared to swing at my head in what could only be described as a death blow. He paused as if threatening my life would make me change my mind.

It didn't.

If that had been the case, we'd be waiting here all night. Once my mind was made up, there's very little that can be done to get me to change it.

Not even a monster on a mission.

I saw him flex and then start to swing. In that moment, all I knew was that something deep inside of me erupted. Empowered with the will to survive, combined with the rush of adrenaline that comes when you're faced with pure, undiluted horror...well, let's just say that the power was suddenly mine for the calling.

My body spasmed, stomach clenched tight as a skin prickling rush of scalding energy poured out of me in a bright, shimmering blaze like a firestorm.

The power was beyond imagining – like nothing I'd ever felt before. I raised my arms in slow bewilderment as my jaw sagged. The palms of my hands were engulfed in bright red fire which surged with the power behind my eyes.

Even more incredible was the fact that I didn't feel any pain.

Attention riveted on the hissing flames, my eyes felt like they were the size of buckets. Fighting just to keep my breathing under control, I started to hyperventilate when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

I didn't have a whole lot of time to freak out about becoming a human torch when Grim was attempting to take my face off. I flinched back just in time as the edge of the blade swung past my nose with alarming speed – so close, in fact, I even felt the breeze brush my face.

Grim readied himself for the next blow, arms straight up with the blade pointed at the sky like he was going to split me in half.

I raised a fiery fist to get his attention. "Whoa, hold up there Temple of Doom." For some reason he lowered the weapon. Not that I was complaining. "This is how things are gonna go down. You're going to go back to your master and tell him to stop sending his Goonies to fetch me. Otherwise, this little seed of destruction is going to go commando and explode some asses. Starting with yours. Got that?" I tend to talk with my hands when I speak, so I couldn't tell if Grim's eyes were locked on me, or the flames. Probably both.

Turns out it was neither.

Supposedly zombies were afraid of fire. At least, that's what all those Hollywood movies wanted us to believe. Let me just take this opportunity to say that is a big, stinky load of crap. If anything, the flames just made me an easier target in the dark.

Grim's response to my threat was to nimbly twirl the scythe like a baton, and then repeatedly strike at me in a blur of motion like a venomous snake.

Fortunately for me, increased speed and heightened reflexes were also unleashed as a result of the power. Nobody was more surprised than me when I suddenly had the ability to dodge each repeated swipe. However, quickly running out of breath, I knew I couldn't keep it up forever. It's not like I was a machine.

That's when it hit me.

Unencumbered by human emotions and, somehow, programmed to only carry out the orders of the Dark Ones, Grim was like that robot in Terminator. A killing machine that couldn't be reasoned with. And worse, much, much worse I realized with horror – the Dark Ones were making an army of these undead super-soldiers.

Nausea curled in the pit of my stomach as it dawned on me that Grim would never stop trying to make me dead. With the sickening realization, came a white-hot wash of anger.

I wasn't in the mood to die tonight. Not even close.

Hands becomming slippery, Grim stopped mid-swing to reposition his weapon.

It was my first chance to go on the offensive. First order of business – disarm him. But how?

With the super sharp tip poised to come right down on my scrawny neck, I fastened my eyes hypnotically on the long wooden handle of the scythe, watching in silent fascination when it burst into flames instead. The wood disintegrated in the blink of an eye, which caused the red hot blade to land on the dirt path with a heavy, satisfying thud.

Grim reached down to pick it up and I heard the metal singe his fingers. If he noticed, he didn't react. Not that I really believed the walking dead actually felt pain. Hoped was more like it.

Instead of stopping his attack he just continued coming at me, swinging the scythe like a dagger aimed directly at my jugular.

I managed to consistently out maneuver him, dodging each repeated blow as I held the fire in my hands like a bright, living thing. The persistent bastard was really starting to piss me off. The angrier I became, the more the energy continued to consume me – thrilling over my entire body, until I was completely engulfed in blazing fire.

With a painful woosh, my breath was pulled so suddenly from my lungs that it left me gasping for air. The rush of power, flowing in a circular motion like a tornado of swelling heat, swept up my long hair – causing the ends to swirl around wildly in the air.

I inhaled deeply, or attempted to anyway. With just one look, I hurled an inferno of fire at Grim. Staggering backwards from the blow, he didn't burst into flames so much as explode right before my very eyes as a thick, black plume of smoke billowed upward like a darkened mushroom cloud.

I didn't even have time to feel relieved because, now, row after row of dried cornstalks were on fire. I ran around like a crazy person stomping them out, knowing all along it could've been worse. A lot worse. Luckily, this part of the cornfield was in one of the low-lying areas, and the ground was still damp from the early morning rain.

When the fires finally went out, I exhaled deeply. It was over. At least for now, anyway. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the Dark Ones sent another one of their minions to fetch me. Unfortunately I couldn't allow myself to dwell on that fact, sobering as it was. Not when I had more pressing issues to worry about.

Houston, we have a problem.

My super-powers – awesome as they may be – didn't come with a kill switch. My body still on fire and I was clueless as to how to shut it down.

Before I had time to think, I heard cornstalks crackling to my right. Shifting my focus from near panic to the sounds of someone or something coming straight toward me again, I thought I heard my name being called.

I strained to listen, but between the crickets chirping, the roaring fire, and the noise from the impatient crowd getting louder, maybe it was just my imagination, but as I raised my hands to stare at the flames, they turned from bright red, to orangey-red, followed by yellow, and then a white hot blue – right before my eyes.

Only then did I start to feel the effects of the fire crawling over my skin as if burning me alive. Warm at first, and getting increasingly warmer by the second, my heart jumped into my throat when I heard my name being called again.

This time closer.

I gasped, letting out a forceful yip of surprise and felt my heart actually skip a beat or two. I think I even forgot to breathe for a moment.

The burst of shock to my system worked like magic. The flames extinguished all by themselves like somebody had flipped a switch.

I stood in a daze as Skylar half fell out of the corn. Rushing up to me, he wrapped strong arms around my shoulders.

"I saw the smoke and couldn't stay away," he said, voice breathless. "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

He pulled far enough away so that he could see my face. "What the heck happened? Why did you want me to leave so bad?"

Shivering once again, I melted back into his arms. "Trust me," I breathed, burying my face in the warmth of his neck. "You don't want to know."

I inhaled the sugary sweet scent still clinging to his skin, a welcomed change from the odor of grave-rot permeating the area like a cloud of death.

"You smell incredible," I whispered, eager to change the subject.

Skylar responded by giving me a bone crushing hug. "Well, you smell like a campfire."