Story: Into the Maze.

Posted by Ric delCampo on December 21, 2002 at 08:46:40:

BTW, I wrote this story about three years before I wrote 'Ninja 13.' As you may see, the back-story for Ninja 13 comes from this story.

Into the Maze.
Ric delCampo

The bride-to-be, momentarily alone in the ante-room, was sobbing uncontrollably. Her doctor had called her sudden outbursts, “survivor’s guilt.” Her tears rolled down her face and dripped onto the photograph.
The photograph looked like a typical beer commercial; an ad trying to cover all the bases with three beautiful, long-haired, scantily-clad young women: one Caucasian, one African, one Asian. The three of them were standing at a bar, two of them holding icy, foamy beers. All three were dressed in shorts or cut-offs and tank-tops or bustiers. All three had bare midriffs, proudly displaying flats bellies and slender waists. All three were long-legged, well-toned, athletic. The white girl was on the right, with long blonde hair, and dark-sunglasses hiding her mysterious, blue eyes. The voluptuous black girl, who was only a bit shorter, was in the center. She had cascading ebony hair and a lustful smile. Oddly enough, it was the girl on the left, the one with the exotic, almond-shaped eyes, who was the tallest. Her dark, silky hair had just a tint of auburn color. All three were laughing and smiling, unaware of the nightmare which would soon consume them.
The bride’s tears flowed unceasingly. Why was she alive? And they were dead? Would the nightmares never end?

***

LeeAnn Yaeger had never before experienced a hang-over. Her head pounded. Her eyes hurt so bad they refused to open. And, as she regained consciousness, she had an uncontrollable urge to vomit. She stuck her head between her legs and vomited onto her feet. She vomited until she felt her throbbing head would explode. Hot, sticky fluids splashed onto her sandaled feet, adding to the stench of her unwashed body. Her white cut-offs were wet with urine as she discovered to her ever increasing dismay. As her senses returned, agonizingly slow, they were dulled by blinding pain and discomfort. She emptied her stomach onto the floor, and felt a bit less nauseous. But the steady drone of the bus’s engine hammered at her brain.
Bus! What was she doing on a bus? Daddy’s car! His pride and joy! How she had begged him to allow her to take it to Berkley. As usual, he had relented, upon the usual strict conditions he always imposed on her. If she were on a bus, where was Daddy’s car?
LeeAnn forced her eyes open. What she saw horrified her. Out the window, hundreds of feet below them, were white fluffy clouds. And a pontoon landing gear hanging from the port wing of the seaplane. This was no bus!
LeeAnn leapt up out of her seat, only to be jerked back down by a sudden sharp, tearing pain in her left wrist. Horror piled on horror as she realized she was handcuffed to the armrest.
LeeAnn was wide awake and only dimly aware of her headache. She took three, slow, deep breaths, and forced herself to calmly assess her situation.
She was on an airplane, a seaplane. It was a small, passenger craft, with seating for twenty. But only three seats were occupied. Nicole was asleep at her left, and across the aisle, Gabrielle also slept. She could see no one else. There were no airline logos, or government or police emblems. No clues as to the identity or ownership of the airplane.
“Niki, Niki, wake up.” She punched Nicole in the arm.
It had been Niki’s idea to go to Mexico for Spring break and LeeAnn was the only one of the three roommates who spoke Spanish. It was Niki’s new boyfriend who had offered his parents’ vacation condo. It had been Niki who convinced her, against her Daddy’s wishes, to drive the four of them to Costa Dorada; as LeeAnn was the only one with a functional car. It had been Niki who convinced her to stay long beyond the end of Spring break. And it had been Niki who had been leading them bar-hopping last night.
If it was last night. LeeAnn had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She ravenously was hungry. But, naturally; after emptying her stomach onto her sandals.
“S-shut up, Lee,” Nicole murmured. “My head hurts.”
Niki, Gabby! Wake up!” She said in urgent, hushed tones. She shook Niki until she reached up to stop her. At least, Niki tried to reach her, her left arm was also handcuffed.
“Le’ go me,” Niki whined. “You’re hurtin’ my arm.”
“What the hell?” Gabrielle was awake and had discovered her handcuff. And she was ticked. “Lee, what the hell is this?”
“You tell me,” LeeAnn said, keeping her cool. “I don’t remember anything. Did you get us arrested?”
“This doesn’t look like no Mexican cop car to me,” Gabrielle said. She stood up as far as her restraints would allow. She shouted down the aisle. “Hey! Who’s flying this piece of crap? What the hell’s going on?”
“Shuttup,” Niki said. “I’m tryin’ to sleep.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.
While Niki slept fitfully, and Gabby shouted without results, LeeAnn sat down and tried to remember as much as she could about the previous night. If it was the previous night.
They had gone bar-hopping. Niki’s boyfriend had disappeared a week earlier and Gabby had tried to console her by seducing as many young men as could be found in the coastal resort town of Costa Dorada. The two of them had made a contest of it. Who could bed the most men in one week. They were keeping score.
“I’ve bagged a German , two Frenchies, a Swiss and a couple of Mex’s,” Gabby had bragged that night while they surveyed the pickings in a yuppie bar.
“Well, I bagged a Limmie, a Russian, and six Mexicans,” Niki said.
“Mexicans shouldn’t count, they’re too easy.”
LeeAnn was uncomfortable in the bar, uncomfortable with this sordid game. She wanted to go back to school. But she didn’t what to be the square among the round pegs. “You know, you sound like a scene straight out of Don Juan, the one where he and his friend are recounting all the various women they’ve seduced,” LeeAnn said.
“Don Juan, he laid you?” Niki asked.
“No, of course not.” LeeAnn realized Niki had no idea who she was talking about and quickly shut up, least they think she was a nerd.
“So, Lee, how many times did you get laid?” Gabby asked her, smiling wickedly, because she already knew the answer.
LeeAnn didn’t answer. No use in giving them more ammo to make fun of her.
“Look, LeeAnn, there’s a cute guy,” Niki nudged her. “He’s been giving you the eye all night long. He looks like a Jap or something. We haven’t bagged one of them yet. You take a shot at him.”
There was a man watching them. A muscular Asian, with a military hair cut. About six feet tall, and two-twenty pounds, not an ounce of it fat. In fact, he stared unrelentingly at them.
“Go for him, man!” Niki pushed her.
“No, I couldn’t.”
Gabby handed her a tall beer, with a whisky or tequila shooter. “This’ll give you the guts.”
LeeAnn had been drinking Shirley Temples all night. Maybe if she give in on this, they would stop harassing her. She drank it all down in one gulp.
That was the last thing she remembered.
Niki was finally awake and she and Gabby were speculating on their situation, trying to cover their fear with bravado.
“Maybe we’ve been kidnapped by white slavers, “ Gabby said, “to sell us to some rich oil sheik.”
“Do I look white to you?” Niki said with a nervous laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“Lee, what do you think?”
“We’re flying in circles,” LeeAnn said. “Why would they be flying us in circles?”
“Maybe we’re going to land?” Niki said.
“I gotta call my Dad,” LeeAnn said, “He’ll know what to do.”
“If he don’t disown you,” Gabby cracked. She stood up again and shouted. “Hey! You, up front! What the hell do you want with us?”
LeeAnn felt so stupid. Whoever had kidnapped them obviously wasn’t going to let her phone home. She tested the handcuff again. Only to painfully scrape a layer of skin off her wrist. The handcuff was unbreakable, unlike her wrist.
The curtains at the front of the passenger compartment parted. A petite Asian woman, dressed in a revealing stewardess’s uniform, entered the compartment. The uniform blouse was red, with a Mandarin collar, low-cut to reveal the tops of two well-rounded breasts, and a with bare midriff. She held a tray with three glasses. Smiling pleasantly, she gave each girl a glass. “Please, drink, this will make you feel better. It is Bromal Seltzer, for your headaches and nausea.”
“What the hell is going on?” Gabby demanded.
The stewardess smiled like an airhead. “We will be landing soon. Please be cooperative.”
“If we are under arrest, I demand to know the charges, and to speak with a representative of the American government.” LeeAnn felt silly at making the demand as she was obviously in no position to be making demands. But she had to make the effort.
The stewardess laughed jovially. “Oh, Miss, you must be joking with me. How could I contact a representative of the American government?”
LeeAnn now was angry as well. Take off these handcuffs, and we’ll see if you still feel like joking.
The stewardess took back their glasses after they had finished. “Now, please sit down and behave yourselves.” She was very condescending. Then she returned forward.
In a moment they were descending through the clouds. As they broke through, LeeAnn could see nothing but blue sea below them. Then she spotted two small islands, each less than an hundred yards in diameter, each devoid of vegetation. The only visible structure was a wooden pier protruding from the smaller island. The aircraft touched down on the ocean and taxied to the pier. From her side of the airplane, LeeAnn could see nothing but water and sky. There was nothing she could use to indicate on which part of the planet they had landed. They were on an ocean, the warm humid air indicated the tropics, beyond that were nothing but guesses.
The door at the rear of the plane opened and a short, stocky man entered. He appeared Asian, with short, bristly black hair and a flat face. He wore what appeared to be a white karate gi, and a black belt with the traditional karate knot. He strode up to Gabby, took out a key, and unlocked her handcuff. “You. Come with me. Now.” He spoke brusquely, with an accent. Japanese maybe. Seizing Gabby’s arm, he hustled her down the aisle, and off the plane. All the while Gabby shouted obscenities at him.
A moment later he was back for Niki. “You. Come with me. Now.”
Niki trembled with fear. “P-please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded, her whole body was shaking. Tears streaked down her cheeks. The man mercilessly dragged her down the aisle.
LeeAnn tried to look out the windows on the other side of the plane, to see who was on the pier, to try to get some idea of her situation. But the angles were all wrong and she couldn’t see the pier.
In a moment he was back for her. He unlocked her handcuff and she obediently stood up and offered her right hand to him. He seized it.
Okay, mister, let’s see what you’ve got! LeeAnn counter-grabbed his right wrist and jerked it back, twisting his right arm up past her right hip as she slammed her left hand into his exposed elbow, striking the exposed nerves, while rotating sharply back to her right. She leveraged his head down and spun him around. As she had planned, her unexpected move countered his superior strength and she slammed his forehead into the metal armrest of the nearest seat. Blood spurted from his face and he collapsed like a pole-axed cow.
LeeAnn stepped back into a fighting stance, but her opponent was down for the count. She retreated up towards the open door trying to watch both fore and aft. As she reached the last row of seats, another man entered the aircraft. He was also an Asian, and similarly dressed to the first man. He stared mutely at the unconscious man. He had no idea what had happened. It was beyond his ability to conceive the idea that his comrade had been defeated by a mere girl.
“He slipped,” LeeAnn said innocently. She walked toward him, her hands extended before her, offering her surrender. She appeared to be the model of submissiveness. He reached out to take her hands. What came next was totally unexpected.
She chopped the inside of both wrists to clear his arms, hit him in the floating ribs with a right, inward handsword, chopped him in the throat with an left, outward handsword, heel-palmed him in the solar plexus, and paused to survey the damage. He was bent over, gagging, and gasping. His lungs refused to function properly. But he was still standing. She snap-kicked him in the groin, bending him over. As he retched and grabbed at his injured jewels, she advanced, kicking him in the face, which snapped his head back. Blood spurted from his shattered nose. She retreated and came in fast, catching him squarely in the chest with a side-thrust kick, which drove him into the rear bulkhead. His head bounced off the metal with a loud thud and he fell onto his face.
“Very well done, Miss.”
LeeAnn whirled around. The stewardess stood in the parted curtains; she held a semi-automatic pistol aimed at LeeAnn.
“I give up,” LeeAnn lied. “A gun in the hand beats an empty hand.” She raised her hands, and tried to look submissive.
The stewardess smiled. But she didn’t move, she stayed out of range. She wasn’t buying the innocent act.
A harsh voice from the rear of the plane spoke. “You will come with me now!”
LeeAnn turned around again, slowly, her hands still up. A third Asian man, easily a foot taller than the first two, stood in the doorway. This one held an Uzi submachine gun. “You will come with me, or I will shoot your friends.”
LeeAnn put her hands down. “Okay, guys, you win. I had to try, you understand?”
The stewardess holstered her weapon down and came to escort LeeAnn out of the aircraft. As she approached the armed man, LeeAnn recognized him as the Japanese man from the yuppie bar. She thought she detected a hit of a smile beneath his scowl. “You’re lucky it was not I who came for you,” he whispered to her, “I’m not so foolish as Rat and Ox.”
“You’re bigger too,” LeeAnn added, trying to play it cool.
“Quiet!” he ordered. He was not amused.
There were three more stocky Asian men out on the pier, all armed with Uzis or Barretta 9mm pistols. And three very petite Asian girls. They were dressed similarly to the stewardess, with white silk blouses with Mandarin collars and bare midriffs. And long sheath skirts slit on the right up to the thigh. Gabby was handcuffed to one young woman, and Niki to the second. One of the male guards led LeeAnn to the third woman and handcuffed the two of them together.
“Who are you?” LeeAnn asked in a whisper, “Do you know what’s going on?”
“Quiet, please.” the girl said, and put her pointer finger to her lips to emphasize. Her English was heavily accented. “Please,” sounded more like “Prease.”
The tall Japanese man had returned to the plane and soon came out with the two injured guards. Both of them knelt and the edge of the pier. The tall guard aimed his Uzi point-blank at the back of the first man’s head and fired a three round burst. Blood and bone sprayed into the water and the man pitched into the sea. The tall guard executed the second man the same way.
LeeAnn shuttered and took deep breathes, certain that at any moment she would faint. Until now she had thought it possible that somebody would leap out and proclaim, “You’re on Candid Camera!” But the blood and brains had been real. Brutally real. For the first time in her life LeeAnn had seen men die before her eyes and she feared that she would be next.
The tall Japanese guard began to shout something in a language she didn’t understand. It sounded like Japanese to her. When he was finished, he began again. This time LeeAnn understood part of what he was saying as he was shouting in Mandarin Chinese.
While a teenager, LeeAnn had experimented with discovering her roots. While she didn’t know if she was half Chinese, or Korean, or Japanese, she had chosen to study Chinese. It was during this same time she that she had started to study Karate. The language lessons had lasted two years before she switched to Spanish. The Karate lessons lasted five years, until she left for college, and she had earned her Brown belt.
“This . . . punishment . . . disobey (disobedience?) . . . Lord and Master!” While LeeAnn had trouble understanding him, the girl next to her seemed to understand every word.
“We go now!” The tall man ordered, this time in English.
“We go now,” the girl next to LeeAnn repeated to her.
“Where to?” LeeAnn asked. But she received no reply. Only stoic silence.
They marched up the pier toward the center of the isle. There was a large coral mound at the center, but no visible structure. Upon reaching the mound, the tall guard opened a hidden panel. A camouflaged door opened revealing what appeared to be a freight-elevator cabin. They squeezed in and the cabin descended about twenty-five feet. Doors on the opposite side of the cabin opened to reveal a dimly lit corridor. Initially the corridor was constructed of stone, which were damp and covered with slimy green moss. Further on the corridor became a Plexiglas tunnel. connecting the two islands. It was dark, dank, and murky in the tunnel. And while they were only about twenty-five feet beneath the surface, they could not see the sky. The plexi-glass was damp with condensation. Cold drops of water dripped down on them. One cold drop struck LeeAnn on the back of her neck, running down her back, sending shivers through her trembling body. Soon the corridor became stone again and terminated at another elevator.
Again they descended, LeeAnn could not tell how far down. At least two or three floors. Maybe thirty to forty feet. They entered another stone tunnel, this one a bit more brightly lit. Still, there was a damp, dankness to the air. Greenish mold and slime spotted the walls like a alien measles. They continued on, turning a corner, then another, until coming to a thick, heavy metal door. One of the guards unlocked the door. Another shoved a reluctant Gabby and her companion inside. A moment later he emerged and the door was locked, leaving Gabby and her female companion inside. They continued to another door and the procedure was repeated with Niki. A third door was opened for LeeAnn and her companion. A guard unlocked and removed their handcuff and locked them inside.
LeeAnn was in a bedroom, with wooden paneling, a shag rug, a wooden armoire, and canopied bed, which looked very inviting and comfortable, and warm. She shivered at the dampness in the air. The wooden paneling was warped and the furniture was pealing from the cold moisture in the air. There was a Spartan army cot at the foot of the bed.
Before LeeAnn could ask any questions, the Chinese girl began to speak. “I am Number Eight. I will be your valet for the duration of your stay in the Master’s realm. I will answer questions which I am authorized to answer. Be patient and our Master will answer all your questions.
“You will be dining with the Master this evening. There is a bathroom equipped to meet all your needs. Appropriate clothing has been provided. May I suggest that you shower and then rest. You will find the bed to be most comfortable.”
“Who is the Master?” LeeAnn asked.
“He is the Master of this realm,” the girl replied.
“What country is this?” LeeAnn asked. “Are we in China? Asia?”
“I do not understand,” the girl said. “We are in my Master’s realm.”
“The Middle Kingdom, China?” LeeAnn asked, this time in Chinese.
“You speak the language of the school,” the girl said with obvious surprise. She too had switched to Chinese. “You are the first girl the Master has brought to his realm who looks like one of us, his servants. “Did you come from the school?”
“I’m an American!” LeeAnn said, and repeated it in English for further emphasis. “Are you Chinese?”
“I am a servant of my Master,” the girl said. “This word, Chinese, it has no meaning to me.”
“But you speak Chinese,” LeeAnn said.
“I speak the language of the school.”
“What school?”
“The school where I learned to be a worthy servant of my Master.”
“And who is the Master?”
“He is the Master of this realm.”
LeeAnn gave up. They were talking circles around each other. In spite of the fact the girl spoke excellent, educated Mandarin Chinese, and passable English, nothing she was saying made any sense and LeeAnn suspected the girl had no idea what she was talking about either.
LeeAnn showered. Her valet laid out a nightgown for her and she took a nap. Whatever awaited her, she decided it had to better to face it well rested. When she awoke, she discovered the bathroom was stocked with the same make-up brands, shades and colors she used. In the armoire she discovered a selection of six evening gowns, all white, all size four-- her size. She chose the least revealing and Number Eight helped her to dress.
One of the guards returned and handcuffed the two of them together. They were joined in the hall by Niki and Gabby, each handcuffed to her own valet, and by two more armed guards. They were escorted to a large, dimly lit dining hall. It was a huge room, like something out of an ancient castle. There was a large fireplace with a gas-fed fire, the flickering flames throwing weird shadows on the massive stone walls, and a twenty-five foot oaken dinning table set for four. Three of the chairs, at one end of the table were chained to the flag-stone floor. The girls were seated, and each manacled to a chair leg. The valets sat at their own table in one obscure corner, virtually disappearing into the shadowy darkness. One armed guard stood, barely visible, in each of the four corners.
A Chinese waitress entered the room and lit the three candles on the table and set a small bell by the place-setting at the opposite end. The tall guard opened the ten-foot-tall doors and stood at attention. “All arise for the Master of the Realm!” he formally proclaimed.
A tubby man in Tuxedo waddled into the room. He was a Caucasian, about forty years old. His chubby body was pear-shaped with a flabby belly. He head appeared pear-shaped also, with big chickmunk cheeks and a receding hairline. His dark hair was slicked back. LeeAnn didn’t think he was very successful in his lame attempt to appear suave and debonair. His shoes were scuffed and his pants wrinkled, and his shirt tail hung out beneath his dinner jacket. And when he finally spoke, he spoke with a New ‘Joisey’ accent.
“Thank you, Tiger.” he said jovially to the tall guard, who held his chair out for him. He sat at the far end of the table. “Good evening, Miss Castillo, Miss Devereau, Miss Yaeger.” He tipped a non-existent hat to each of them. “Allow me to present myself, I am Titus Heroicus Eduard Hunter. But you may call me T.H.E. Hunter.” He giggled as if that were a joke.
“So, jerkwad, what the hell is this?” Gabby spat out her words.
“No need to be nasty, Miss Castillo,” Titus said pleasantly. “Let us eat. There will be plenty of time to answer all of your questions.” He rang his little bell and the Chinese waitress reappeared to begin serving their meal. First there was hot onion soup, then a tossed salad. This was followed by a steak and French fries. There was a theme occurring here, LeeAnn thought, the meal seemed to come straight from a steakhouse menu. For all his show, Mr. Hunter wasn’t as sophisticated as he wished to appear.
They finished with apple pie and coffee. LeeAnn had water. After clearing their table, the serving girl served rice dishes to the three valets.
Titus arose. “As you may have guessed, Hunter is not the name my parents, (may they burn in hell,) gave me. It is the name I have given myself, as it describes my chosen profession. I hunt and kill the parasites of society, the useless consumers of precious resources, the brainless polluters of the gene pool.”
“You may have heard of me by another name, ‘The New Jersey Strangler,” or by my other nome de guerre, “The New York Ripper.”
“As a young man, I was an honest, hard worker. A bricklayer by profession. But I was never very popular among the young women. For female companionship, I spent my time in dingy bars associating with the lowest forms of female life. They sold their bodies to me; yet had the gall to look down their noses at me.”
“Then on one occasion I accidentally discovered the secret to incredible power. One of these harlots dared to laugh at my poor abilities, and in my rage, I took her delicate throat in my hands and squeezed until she pleaded for her miserable life. I released her just long enough for her to regain her breath, and squeezed again. I took an hour to strangle her. It was the most defining moment in my life. I never felt so powerful in my life, so alive, so full of joy. Colors were more vivid after that day. Each breath I took was sweeter. The air smelled cleaner.” Titus was excited at the memory, his voice raising, and his words coming quicker.
“It was the most pleasant experience of my life. I couldn’t wait to experience it again. I strangled eleven more women in New Jersey, (though the papers only credited me with eight,) before things got too hot for my liking. I moved to New York and changed my Modus Operendi. In New York I used a knife, a long, razor-sharp knife. I punctured and penetrated their luscious bodies. (Except for two, I shot two women to death.)” Titus appeared in ecstasy at the memories.
“The New York papers only credited the “Ripper” with seven murders,” he noted with some disdain. “There were twelve. Then I returned to New Jersey.”
“It was there I had the second most important occurrence of my life. Two weeks after returning to New Jersey, I won the state lottery. One Hundred Eighty Six Million Dollars! The largest lottery in New Jersey state history! Fate had smiled upon me and I decided to dedicate this money to killing the most useless women in the world. The ones which contribute nothing to the gene pool, nothing to the economy, nothing to society. Mind you, I don’t do this out of altruism, I do it just because I enjoy murdering women, the younger, the sleeker, the more beautiful, the better.”
“ Don’t think I’m insane. I won’t stoop to that tired, old excuse. I am very sane. No, I am a sociopath. I have no empathy for my fellow man. I freely admit what I do is evil. It is wrong, it is against the laws of man and God. And I love it.”
“Of course, I was now a public figure, and I found this a hindrance to my unholy calling. So I searched the world for a place I could call my own, where I could continue my profession unhindered. I found these two small islands and purchased them. I brought in local workers to build this complex. The workers were told that this was an amusement park for the very wealthy-- (and it is.) When they were finished I spread the word that the project was bankrupt”
“Then I set out to staff it. My bodyguards are from Japan, trained by the Yakuza; they are totally loyal and obedient to me. I call them my ten Samurai.” He paused. “Excuse me, thanks to Miss Yaeger, they are now my eight Samurai.”
“I bought my slave girls from a slave school in China. For the right amount of money, you can buy anything in China. These girls are sold as infants to the school, and raised and trained to be the ideal slaves. You can even custom order them, like a car from Detroit. My slave girls live to fulfill my every desire. And they only cost about ten thousand dollars each; (except for Number One, I paid twenty-five for her. But she’s special.”)
He leaned in, as if to share a secret. “Watch this!” He motioned to Tiger, who unloaded his pistol and handed it to Titus. Titus rang his little bell and the waitress reappeared. He handed her the weapon.
“Number Four, would you please shoot yourself in the stomach.”
“Yes, my Master,” the girl subserviently said, and pressed the muzzle of the gun to her bare belly. She pulled the trigger, the hammer fell on an empty chamber with a hollow click which reverberated throughout the hall. “I am so sorry, my Master, shall I try again?” Number Four appeared truly disappointed, her lower lip trembling.
“It was just a test, Number Four,” Titus said, with paternal kindness. “You are dismissed.”
“Please, let me kill myself for you, my Master,” Number Four pleaded. Tears came to her lovely eyes. “I am so dishonored by my failure.”
“Not today, Number Four,” he said condescendingly. “But it will be my pleasure to take your life on the appropriate day.”
She bowed to him and departed the room.
“Now that I have properly introduced myself, I come to you. Why have I brought the three of you here?” Titus said. His lips curled in an evil smile. “I have brought you here to murder you!”
He paused, reveling in their fear and surprise, feasting on their horror. He smiled contentedly as they squirmed in the chairs under his unforgiving gaze.
“Underneath the living quarters I have built a full scale replica of the maze from the game ‘Mazes and Monsters.’ Maybe you’ve seen some of the geeks playing it at Berkley? I used to play it. But my full size model has been designed to challenge you both physically and mentally. Tomorrow my Samurai will take you to the center of the maze and release you. The rules are simple enough: If you reach the exit, you live. If not, I will kill you. Unless the maze kills you first.”
“Each of you will start the game with zero points. I will play the part of the Maze Master, and keep you informed of your progress. If you make a mistake, you lose points. If you progress safely towards the exit, you gain points. At one hundred points, you will reach the exit. At negative one hundred points, if the maze has not killed you, I will.”
“And, I have added one evil little twist to test your loyalty to one another. The first girl who offers to sleep with me, I will kill instantly. And all her points go to the survivors. But the second girl who offers to sleep with me, I will give her seventy-five points. The third girl who offers to sleep with me will die also. I will not reveal who has slept with me or who has offered. That should keep your nasty little minds busy.”
Titus clasped his pudgy hands to his chest and smiled beatifically. And with a slight tilt of his head, asked, “Now, have I not answered all your questions?”
“Yeah, you sucking toad,” Gabby snapped, “But why us? You got the money. Why don’t you just buy yourself some Chinese girls and kill them? Why us?”
“That is two questions, Miss Castillo, and I shall answer them both. First, why go to the effort of kidnapping women and bringing them here, when I could order Chinese girls out of a catalogue at less expense and personal danger? Because, as you witnessed, they want me to kill them. You could say they live to die for me. Where’s the challenge in that? Where’s the fun? It would soon become too boring if I didn’t kill women who would fight for their lives. You’re here so that I don’t get bored!”
“The second question. Why you? It is no accident that the three of you are here. I chose you and I brought you here. Miss Devereau’s boyfriend worked for me. He was an hack actor hired to seduce her and bring the three of you to Mexico. His condo-- I rented it. It was Tiger who bribed the bartender and drugged your drinks. I picked the three of you because you meet my criteria as useless parasites.”
He turned to face down Gabby.
“Miss Castillo, your father is a wealthy lawyer. Yet you are attending school on an Hispanic scholarship. The only reason you have it is because your great-grandfather immigrated to the United States one hundred years ago and passed down a Spanish surname. That scholarship was meant for a poor Hispanic immigrant who couldn’t afford schooling otherwise. And what do you do with his scholarship? You waste it by cutting classes, partying all night, drinking and carousing. By killing you I will return that scholarship to its rightful owner.”
Next he turned to confront Niki.
“Miss Devereau. I can easily say the same thing about you. Your father is a wealthy plastic surgeon who could easily afford any school in the country. But you too took a scholarship meant for some poor black student from the ghetto. What have you learned in the two years you’ve been in school? How to party hearty? When I kill you, Miss Devereau, think of that poor black kid from the ghetto who can now receive his rightful scholarship.”
Last he faced LeeAnn. She returned his gaze stone-faced.
“And Miss Yaeger. You sit there so indignant! You believe I will accuse you of stealing some poor Chinese kid’s scholarship? Of course, I won’t. There are too many Chinks at Berkley-- no scholarships for them. No, Miss Yaeger, there you sit, the luckiest girl in the world. The only one of the three with any brains. I know all about you, Miss Yaeger. I know who your mother is.”
“My mother was Diane Yaeger!” LeeAnn said forcefully. “And my father is Dean Yaeger!”
Titus grinned. “I know who your ‘birth-mother’ is,” he said. “She is an illegal alien, smuggled in from Korea to work as a prostitute. One of her johns knocked her up. She gave birth to you in a rat infested motel and wrapped you in a plastic garbage bag and threw you down the garbage chute. Three days later the janitor pulled you out of the dumpster. Did Mr. Dean Yaeger ever tell you that?” he asked with sarcasm in his voice. “Did tell you he prosecuted your mother’s case himself and got her sent to prison for twenty years? Did you know she’s getting out next month. Too bad you’ll never live to meet her.”
“My mother was Diane Yaeger. I have no other mother.” LeeAnn clenched her fists to control her emotions. She wasn’t going to let him rattle her. But how did he know things her father had yet to tell her, things he had promised to tell upon her twenty-first birthday?
“Your father could be as wealthy as Miss Castillo’s father. But he chose to work for the county at a piddling rate. Even after his wife died, he remained a public servant. He can hardly afford to send you to Berkley, but that’s where you wanted to go. You wanted to be lawyer, just like your dear old ‘fake’ dad. A straight ‘A’ student all through high school, they had to let you in. But when they did, what did you do, Miss Yaeger? Did you attend all your classes like the excellent student you are? No! You went along on every escapade your two hedonistic roommates proposed. Aren’t you a good Christian girl? Aren’t you suppose to set an example? Aren’t you supposed to convert your evil roommates?
“But they have converted you. Two semesters, straight ‘D’s. When I kill you, Miss Yaeger, (and let me tell you how much I look forward to killing you,) your ‘fake’ father can spend his money on a more worthwhile endeavor. You have betrayed him, Miss Yaeger. You don’t even deserve to carry his name.”
LeeAnn had lost control by now. She was weeping, ashamed that even this monster knew how she had failed her father. Niki was crying too, out of shear terror. Only Gabby glared with pure hatred at the pudgy creature who claimed to be human.
Handcuffed to their valets, the three girls were returned to their bedrooms. Sleepwear was waiting for them in their armoires, and a sleeping pill in the bathroom. For the first time , LeeAnn took a sleeping pill. It was the only way she could sleep, and she know without a doubt that she needed her rest. Her valet slept on the cot at the foot of the bed.
In the morning an elevator took them deep into the bowels of the maze. The guards escorted them to a chamber stocked with a variety of supplies. Each valet slung a knapsack over her shoulder and instructed her charge to fill it as they thought best.
“You’re going with us?” LeeAnn asked Number Eight.
“Yes, I am your valet,” Number Eight said matter-of-factly. LeeAnn realized for the first time that all six girls were dressed the same. White blouses with Mandarin collars and bare midriffs, white shorts, and tennis shoes. LeeAnn strapped on a Sam Browne belt with two canteens of water and an ammo pouch full of granola bars. In her valet’s knapsack she placed more energy bars, a rope, a flashlight, a lighter, a first-aid kit, climbing gloves, two handkerchiefs, and a Swiss Army knife. And a belt with two more canteens. The other two girls followed her lead.
Once provisioned they were taken to another elevator which took them deeper under the island. Here the six girls were herded into a small, dank chamber and the four samurai escorting them left them alone.
“Welcome the maze,” a disembodied voice announced. “This is your maze master speaking. From here on you are on your own. You will live or die depending on your actions and decisions. Your first test is before you. It is typical of those you will encounter. You see before you two doors, one leads toward life, the other toward death. Read and ponder the clues, and choose your path. Only one door may be opened at a time. Once you have entered, you may not return.”
LeeAnn examined the two doors. One said “Washington” in rectangular letters. The other said “Lincoln” in a circle. Between the two doors was a plaque which asked, “Which is the better conductor?”
“What does it mean?” Gabby asked her valet.
“I do not read English,” the girl replied.
“It’s a riddle,” LeeAnn said. “Some play on words. There were no trains in Washington’s time, and Lincoln never worked for the railroad. The shapes must have some hidden meaning.”
And then it came to her, Washington was on the rectangular one dollar bill, Lincoln on the circular, copper penny. Copper was a better ‘electrical’ conductor than paper. “It’s the Lincoln door,” she said. And explained her reasoning.
The six of them entered the Lincoln door and found themselves in another small chamber. There was an iron ladder bolted to the opposing wall. There were two circular openings, one in the floor below the ladder, one in the ceiling above. There was a rusted plaque bolted to the wall next to the ladder with Chinese characters.
“What does it say?” Gabby asked her valet.
“China.”
“No,” LeeAnn said, “it says, ‘Middle Kingdom.’ That’s what the Chinese use to call their country. The middle kingdom, halfway between heaven and earth.”
“So what does that mean?” Gabby asked. “Do we go up or down?”
“We go up, to heaven,” LeeAnn said without a thought.
“No! No!” Niki disagreed. “You go to heaven when you die!”
“The exit has to be up,” LeeAnn offered.
Gabby was impatient. “So which way do we go?”
“Down,” Niki said. She pointed down the hole and spoke to her valet. “Go down there and tell us what you see.”
“Yes.” the girl obediently said. She climbed onto the ladder and descended. The other five peered into the murky darkness until she disappeared from their sight.
There came from the hole an electrical buzz and the girl screamed. Her scream faded rapidly as she fell and was suddenly cut short. But there was no heavy thud of a body striking a cement floor. Rather the scream ended in a squishy, wet sound, followed by deathly silence.
LeeAnn recovered first. “Are you okay?” she called down the hole. “Ni hau ma?” There was no reply.
“Guess you were right,” Niki said. “We go up.”
“Wait!” LeeAnn protested. “We gotta go down and see what happened. She could be hurt down there.”
“She could be dead,” Niki shrugged her shoulders. “Who cares? She’s not our concern.”
“Wait for me!” LeeAnn ordered. And she clasped the ladder and began her descent into the dank chamber below. Grasping the railing, she carefully tested each rung before putting her weight on it. Down ten feet she discovered a missing rung. She worked her way past it, until it was at eye level. It was a booby-trap. There were two solenoids on each side of the ladder, when activated, they pulled in pins which had supported the now missing rung. The solenoids were activated when the girl put her full weight on the rung.
There was a dim light below. She descended another twenty feet to the rough, cement floor. There were dozens of eighteen-inch-tall, rusty iron spikes embedded in the cement. The girl had impaled herself on at least six of them. One in her skull, three through her torso, and two in her legs. Her knapsack was torn open and the contents soaked in blood. One canteen was punctured.
LeeAnn sagged against the wall and sank to her seat.
“Well, Miss Yaeger, I see you’ve lost your valet.” Titus’s voice crackled from an hidden speaker. “That’s twenty-five points off.”
“She’s not my valet,” LeeAnn instinctively protested. “She’s Niki’s.”
“She certainly looks like your valet.” When she didn’t reply, he added sarcastically, “But all you slant-eyes look alike to me.”
“Even me?” LeeAnn probed.
“You’re only the prettiest.”
LeeAnn started the climb. Just in sight of the opening, a metal plate slid out, sealing the hole. “Sorry, Miss Yaeger. There’s no going back. It’s the rules!”
Above her Gabby pounded on the metal plate. It wouldn’t budge.
“Why’d she go down there?” Niki asked. “Now what do we do?”
“We do what we should’ve done at the beginning,” Gabby said. “We split up. That way at least one of us has a chance. You take Lee’s girl with you. We gotta face it, we’ve lost Lee.” The four remaining girls climbed toward heaven.
Below them LeeAnn pounded on the metal plate. There were no openings to get a grasp on it, no apparent triggering mechanism. It was too dark to see what she was doing. Reluctantly she descended the ladder and sat on the floor. She was in a circular chamber, with damp, stone walls. There was a single, dim light on the wall across from her. She could see dark shapes hanging beneath the light. She decided to investigate. Threading her way through the spikes, she reached the other side. Three human skulls, with rotted flesh hanging from the bone, empty eye sockets, and clumps of long hair, were nailed to the wall. Startled, LeeAnn stepped back nearly tripping and falling on the spikes behind her.
Beneath the skulls was an opening in the wall, it was a round tunnel or tube, about two feet in diameter. From where she knelt, she could not see where it lead. Treading lightly she returned to the dead girl and began to examine her knapsack. The pack itself was ripped open and unusable. The granola bars were soaked in blood and uneatable. The lighter was ruined and the rope hopelessly tangled between the spikes and the girl’s body. Finally she was able to recover a flashlight and one canteen. She used part of the water to wash the blood from her hands, and drank the rest.
Back into the tunnel she crawled. Shining the flashlight ahead. There was a dank, heavy smell of stagnant sea water. After crawling about thirty feet she reached the end of the tube. It emptied into a huge, seemingly bottomless chamber. She could see the opposing wall about five feet away. But there seemed to be no floor. The flashlight beam reached about twenty or so feet down, then her view was obscured by a dark mist. The ceiling was about thirty feet above her. She could see no openings or doors in the opposing wall or ceiling. She lay on her back, extending her head out of the hole and searched for someplace to go.
There was a rope suspended from the ceiling laying flat against the wall. She reached out, grabbed it and pulled on it to test it. It seemed to support her weight. She slithered out of the tube and onto the rope. Climbing to the top, she stopped, took out her flashlight with one hand and played the beam across the ceiling to search for an exit. The rope was tied to a metal hook in the stone ceiling. There was no exit.
Looking to her left, she spotted another tube about ten feet away. Descending to that level, she swung back and forth on the rope until she could reach the second tube. When she crawled inside, she let go of the rope. It swung back to its original position, it was now unreachable. There was no going back. She crawled on.
Two hours later, and two hundred meters away, Niki and Number Eight walked down a wooden tunnel. The sign at the entrance had read “Duel in the Sand.” An iron-barred gate opened automatically, giving them entrance to what appeared to be a miniature stadium. They stood in the center, on a sand-covered floor. There were three rows of stadium seating surrounding them, all empty. The gate slammed shut.
Approaching them was Titus, dressed in a white tunic. Tiger accompanied him, carrying two wooden boxes. “Welcome to the dueling stadium, Miss Devereau,” Titus exclaimed. Tiger laid the two boxes down and opened them. One contained two dueling pistols, the other two fencing swords. “As challenger, you have the choice of weapons.” “W-what?” Niki stammered.
“We’re going to fight a duel, Miss Devereau. If I kill you, you lose. If you kill me, you win. Now, choose your weapon.”
“N-no, I . . .”
“Then I’ll choose for you.” Titus picked up one of the swords and examined its gleaming blade with fondness. “Thank you, Miss Devereau, I’ll enjoy running this blade through your sleek body.”
Tiger handed Niki the other sword and put the boxes away.
Niki dropped the sword. “Oh, please . . .” She sobbed, unable to speak. She shook with fear. Tears and sweat stung her eyes.
“If you are unable to continue this Affaire d’honour, you may have your second take your place.”
“W-what do you mean?” Her lower lip trembled.
“Your valet can take your place. Is that what you wish? Are you unable to continue?”
“I guess so.”
“Then go, sit, watch from the stands as your valet defends your honor.” Number Eight put down her knapsack and picked up the sword as Niki sat down on the bottom row of seats.
Titus stepped back into a fighting stance. “En guarde, Number Six!”
“But, my Master, I am Number Eight.” the girl humbly corrected him.
“But I assigned Number Six to Miss Devereau.”
“She is dead.”
“And I thought that was you. Oh well, my mistake.” He lifted his sword again. “Very well, let’s continue. I’ll soon rectify that error.”
The two of them sparred for a moment. It consisted mostly of the two of them clashing their swords together and circling each other. It was apparent only to Tiger that neither of them had any sword-fighting skills at all. Soon Titus was sweating profusely. He stopped, took out a hanky, and wiped his brow.
“Could you please hold perfectly still for just a moment, Number Eight?” he requested.
“Yes, my Master.” She stood perfectly still, sword down, and didn’t even flinch; not even when he ran his sword through her body, straight through her heart.
Titus withdrew his sword and wiped the blade on his hanky. Number Eight dropped her sword. Her knees trembled, and buckled and she sank to her knees. Blood stained her blouse. She clutched her chest and collapsed onto her side. When she had breathed her last, Titus knelt beside her and kissed her cheek. He stood and faced Niki.
“Miss Devereau, you have no honor.” Followed by Tiger, he strode out of the arena.
A few hours later found Gabby and Number Seven sitting beneath a fake tree, surrounded by a fake forest, in a medium sized chamber. A large sunlamp provided plenty of light. An hidden speaker played the sounds of little forest animals. “Fairy Tale Land,” the sign had read. And after several near brushes with death, that had sounded so appealing to Gabrielle. “I’m going to take a nap,” she told her valet. “Wake me if you see something strange.”
“Man, I am so hungry!” Gabby announced when she awoke. “If only you hadn’t dropped my food.”
“I am so sorry,” Number Seven said, averting her eyes in shame. She had dropped the bag while the two of them were climbing a wall. Huge, whirling saw blades had torn the knapsack to shreds.
“Let’s find a way out of here,” Gabby said. The valet obediently followed. They hadn’t gone two steps when they encountered a table with a plate of apples. A small plaque on the table read, “Snow White’s Apples.”
Gabby greedily seized one, then froze. “Wait!”
Number Seven hadn’t even picked up an apple.
Gabby thrust hers at her. “Here, you try it first.”
“Yes.” Number Seven took a bite, chewed slowly, swallowed, then fell to the ground in convulsions. Her body twitched for moment, then was still.
“Didn’t your mother ever read fairy tales to you?” came Titus’s voice from the fake sky.
“Why do you think I had her try it first?” Gabby shouted back. “Ya missed me!”
“That’s twenty-five points off for losing your valet,” Titus coolly countered.
“Yeah, but she’s dead and I’m still alive!” Gabby trumpeted.
Which was exactly the question LeeAnn was asking herself a few hours later as she curled up in a narrow corridor and tried to sleep. She was exhausted and had no idea how long she had been in the maze. But her major concern was for the life of her roommates. How were they faring? She slept fitfully. And dreamed that her father had sent some one to rescue her.
He had.
Lieutenant Commander Kent Clarke, United States Navy, intelligence officer of SEAL Team Four, stepped out into the bright Mexican sunlight. He was on an undercover assignment to scout the beaches at Costa Dorada for a possible Marine amphibious landing. He never believed any such landing would ever take place, it had been over sixty years since marines had invaded Mexico the last time, capturing the Port of Vera Cruz during the Mexican Revolution. But considering the corruption, the drug trade, and communist Zapatista guerrillas in the South, he couldn’t rule it out. Besides, this was a resort town. There were hundreds of American tourists here who some day might need rescuing. He considered this to be another training mission. However, it didn’t matter why he was here, he intended to do his best.
He was dressed in a long blond wig, wrap-around sunglasses, and a loud Hawaiian shirt. A pack of cigarettes was in his shirt pocket, though he had never smoked a day in his life. His intention was to appear as a typical, uncultured, arrogant American tourist. But he had failed to hide his muscular arms and legs.
He looked around for a cab. Parked in the airport’s ‘No Parking’ zone was a cherry red 1966 Ford Mustang convertible in mint condition. It had California license plates, personalized plates which read, “LEEANN.”
“LeeAnn,” he whispered to himself. As part of his briefing, he had been informed that as many as two dozen American citizens, most of them young women, had gone missing in the vicinity of Costa Dorada the past two years. Most of them were considered as runaways, based on their poor reputations. But LeeAnn Yaeger, pre-law student at Berkeley, and daughter of the Vaselia County prosecuting attorney, had no such reputation. Her father was a former marine, a veteran of the Vietnam war, and a close personal friend of SEAL Team Four’s commanding officer. He had requested that Commander Clarke look into the disappearance of Mr. Yaeger’s daughter.
“Le gusta mi coche?” a girl’s voice asked him.
Clarke turned around. A short, plump, fat, chubby girl, wearing enough make-up to choke a horse was leering at him.
“It’s a very nice car,” Clarke responded in Spanish. “Is your name LeeAnn?”
“No, silly,” the girl giggled, “that’s the name of the car. My father gave it to me yesterday as a present. Would you like to take a ride?”
“No, thank you. Maybe later. I need to check in at the hotel.”
“The resort? I hang out there. Maybe I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah, sure.” Clarke didn’t want to go with the girl, but it wouldn’t hurt to run into her again-- when he had a better handle on the situation. The girl hopped into her car and spun away.
“You sure bit the bullet on that one, gringo,” one of the old, toothless skycaps said.
“What do you mean?”
“She is the daughter of the Jefe de Policia,” the skycap said, “when her ol’ man don’t like you, you end up in the desert.”
“Thanks for the warning, amigo,” Clarke said and he slipped him a twenty while the skycap hailed him a cab.
“Rat poop!” said LeeAnn at that same moment. Crawling through a slimy tunnel she had encounter a rat’s nest. She wormed her way around it to avoid smearing manure on her already filthy body. There was green slime and brackish water every where.
She crawled into a round chamber and sat down. Her knees and elbows were sore. There were two doors before her. The wooden one read “Duel in the Sand,” the other, “The Right Stuff.” Movie titles, she thought. ‘The Right Stuff’ was about astronauts, the other she had not seen. If up towards heaven is the right direction, then I’ll go with the astronauts, she decided. She reached for that door.
“Wait, Miss Yaeger.” It was Titus’s obnoxious voice again.
“What d’you want?” she asked wearily.
“Won’t you please choose the other door?”
“It’s the wrong door, why would I want to go that way?”
“I want you to. I’ll tell you what-- I was wrong to take off twenty-five points for losing your valet. I’ll give you twenty-five points if you go through the other door.”
“And how many points do I loose for going through the wrong door?” LeeAnn asked warily.
“None. It’s what happens inside that determines how many points you win or loose. You may loose all or gain all. Are you up to a challenge?”
“How many points do I have now?”
“Zero.” he flatly said.
“That means I’m headed in the right direction, doesn’t it?” she challenged him. “Why should I go the wrong way now?”
“I’ll give twenty-five points to Miss Castillo and to Miss Devereau if you do.”
“What’s their scores?” He had found the chink in her armor.
“And the triumph in his voice betrayed that he knew it. “Less than yours. Much less.”
“I don’t loose anything if I go through the wrong door?”
“Not by merely going through the door.”
She angrily yanked open the wooden door and entered the arena. The first thing she saw was Number Eight’s body. She ran to the girl’s side. The brown, crusty blood told her she was far too late.
As before, Titus and Tiger brought out the dueling weapons and the pudgy man explained her options to her. LeeAnn examined the dueling pistols. Without a doubt she shoot from the hip and blow out his foul heart. But on second thought, single-shot, muzzle-loading, black-powder pistols were notorious for misfiring, especially in damp environments. There wasn’t even any guarantee the pistol they would give her would even be loaded.
She’d never had any training with swords, and she had the same suspicions. What guarantee was there her sword wasn’t made of rubber? However, she did have one weapon she could trust. She cast Titus’s weapons aside.
“Empty hands,” she said. “I’ll fight you hand-to-hand.”
Titus smiled at her. “I’ll give you ten points right now for ingenuity.” He took Tiger aside and whispered instructions to him. “However, I reserve my right to bring in a second.”
“A second?”
Titus nodded and walked back to his entrance. He opened a hidden panel and spoke into an intercom. “Number One, will you please come to the arena?”
They were joined in five minutes by another Chinese girl. LeeAnn recognized her as the stewardess from the seaplane. “This, Miss Yaeger, is my second. She shall fight you to the death on my behalf. Kill her, and you go free.” Titus grinned lecherously as he and Tiger sat in the stadium. “This is going to be good!”
LeeAnn decided not to give him the satisfaction. “Tournament rules!” she declared. She bowed and saluted her opponent.
Number One was already in a fighting stance. She moved her hands up and down, her fingers pointed at LeeAnn in what some called the Cobra position. She was hissing also.
“Oh, I’m so scared!” LeeAnn sarcastically said, with a false tremble. She stepped back into in a fighting stance, her fists up. The hands movements were supposed to distract her. As a ploy, it failed. She was ready for the feigned punches, when they came, and hammered down the high kick the Chinese girl threw to her head. After hammering with her right, she checked with her left, while shuffling in and converted her right hammerfist to a back-knuckle blow to her opponent’s rib’s, hammered her kidney with the left, and snap-kicked her to the midsection. Then she retreated three steps, as if waiting for the referee’s call.
“One point,” LeeAnn said.
The Chinese girl came spinning in with a series of butterfly kicks. LeeAnn again blocked high, and countered with a side-thrust snap kick to her open groin. A blow which would have been much more effective on a man, it merely threw her off balance. As she covered out, LeeAnn kicked sideways and swept her opponent’s leg out from beneath her. She crashed to the ground.
“Two points.”
The Chinese girl finally took her seriously. She came in throwing a series of serious punches. LeeAnn concentrated on each punch as it came in, blocking them, redirecting them. And cross- grabbed her opponent’s right wrist. LeeAnn threw a left roundhouse kick, pulling it at the last moment; then finished by loudly tapped her opponent in the belly with her instep. She was showing off. Again, as she crossed out, she swept her opponent to the floor.
“Three points.”
Number One slowly, painfully pulled herself to her feet. It was all an act. She rushed headlong at LeeAnn. LeeAnn sidestepped her, checked away her left arm, chopped her in the back of the neck with a left outward handsword, driving her head down, followed that with a right, inward handsword to the same target, chopping her opponent down, to the ground. And threw a left roundhouse kick to her face. LeeAnn pulled her kick one inch away from contact. She retreated.
“Four points.”
This time it wasn’t an act. One’s head and neck really hurt. She staggered to her feet. She shuffled into a fighting stance and inched her way toward LeeAnn. Her punches fell short as she seemed to have no stomach for closing with LeeAnn. Now LeeAnn wasn’t sure if she was faking or had really lost her nerve. LeeAnn blocked a punch, hammered down a low kick, tried to snap kick her in the stomach, and pulled it as her opponent successfully retreated. LeeAnn knew her own weakness was offense. But her opponent was through with offensive tactics. She had lost her nerve.
“Kill her!” Titus ordered. Neither girl knew to whom he was speaking. Neither realized he didn’t care.
LeeAnn closed the gap, her hands low, leaving her head open, purposely inviting a high kick. One obliged. She was too tired to throw it well, it came too slow. LeeAnn blocked high, swept her opponent’s other leg out from beneath her, and backhanded her in the floating ribs as she fell. She retreated.
“Five points,” LeeAnn said. “Match point. I win.”
“You didn’t kill her,” Titus whined.
She ignored him. She strapped on her belt. “Tiger, which way is the exit?”
Tiger actually pointed the way, and leaving Titus’s protests in the dust, she left the arena.
Crawling along a dark, dank tunnel, Niki chose this moment to fall through a trap door and slid down a slimy tube to splash into a pool of stagnant water. She clawed her way to the surface, green moss covered her face. She shrieked and tore it off. Choking and crying, she pulled herself out off the water and collapsed onto a stone shelf. “I can’t go on,” she moaned. “I can’t.”
Gabby found herself in a pit full of snakes. She leapt up onto a ledge just out of reach and inched her way out of the snake chamber. They hissed at her in vain.
A huge blade swooped down from the ceiling. LeeAnn rolled on her shoulder as it missed her by inches. It reminded her of Poe’s story, ‘The Pit and the Pendulum.’
Finding a ladder, Niki was too tired to climb up. Instead she slid down it like a fireman down a pole. Reaching the bottom, she hung on to the pole, reluctant to let go and continue her wanderings through the maze. A mild electric current zipped through the pole, sending her sprawling. “No doddling,” Titus’s voice chided her from an hidden speaker.
Alerted by the hiss of compressed air, Gabby narrowly missed being impaled by a spear as it was flung across the corridor. It cut a gash across her right arm.
LeeAnn entered a long, narrow chamber, with a low ceiling. About five feet in, the floor fell away, revealing a pit full of metal spikes. A rope hung suspended from the ceiling from one end of the chamber to the other. Apparently, she was to hang from the rope and move hand- over-hand to reach to other side. LeeAnn didn’t trusted the rope, fearing it would break, or be released as she hung above the metal spikes. She leapt up to grasp the rope where it was achored to the ceiling, to test its strength, and to search for booby-traps. The rope was new, appeared undamaged, and securely tied to the ceiling hook. But she also notice a filament of copper wire emerging from the ceiling, to run the entire length of the top of the rope.
She dropped to the floor and walked to peer into the pit. It was only about five feet deep. She could easily lower herself into the pit and pull herself out at the other end. She decided to proceed that way; and ultimately reached the other side safely. Then she stopped, entering the pit again, she returned back across the pit, climbed out, leapt up to grab the ceiling hook, and tore out the electrical wire. Now, whoever followed her, could avoid the booby-trap.
Gabby ripped off one sleeve to use as a bandage. The cut wasn’t deep and it had stopped bleeding. Still, it hurt. She picked up the spear and use it to tap the floor before her. She triggered three more compressed-air spears that way and escaped that chamber with no further injury.
Niki traveled ever deeper into the bowels of the maze, the tunnel she was in grew smaller and darker the further along she walked. She scrapped her head on the ceiling three times before continuing on her hands and knees. She didn’t notice the gradual downward slope of the floor. She was as blinded by her fears as by the darkness. She was reduced to crawling in the dark, unable to see, crawling along by feel alone. The stones were wet and covered with slime and moss. Driven by primal fear, it never occurred to her she was going the wrong way and that she could turn around.
LeeAnn entered a circular chamber with two exits. One had a plaque which read, “The Younger Brothers.” The other read, “The Wright Brothers.”
“This is easy,” LeeAnn said. And walked through the Wright Brothers’s door. On the other side was a ladder leading up into a small, dome-shaped chamber. Along the north wall were narrow slit windows-- With sun shine brightly illuminating the room.
“Congratulations! Miss Yaeger!” Titus’s voice bubbled over with genuine enthusiasm. LeeAnn searched in vain for the speaker and TV lens. “You’ve done it!”
“Done what?” she asked.
“You’ve successfully traversed the maze. I didn’t tell you before, but it’s never been done before. I’ve successfully killed every woman I’ve brought here. You’re the first one to reach the exit alive.” Part of the wall slid away to reveal a foot path leading to the pier. “If you’ll proceed down the path,” Titus said, “the plane will be back for you in about two hours.”
LeeAnn strode to the door and peered outside, gratefully breathing fresh air, but still warily proceeding. “I’m supposed to believe you’ll let me go, just like that?”
“Of course,” Titus said. “You’ve proved to me that you’re worthy to live. What do I have to fear from you? You don’t know my name, you don’t know where I am; and if you tell anybody about me, they’ll think you’re insane or on drugs. You’re free to go, Miss Yaeger. You’re so beautiful, so resourceful, so intelligent, I wanted to kill you more than any woman I’ve ever met, I wanted you in my hands to posses you forever, I wanted you to be mine forever more; but I keep my word.”
“What about Niki and Gabby?”
“Don’t wait for them, Miss Yaeger. They aren’t going to make it. Miss Devereau will be dead in about five minutes from now, her score is negative ninety-five, and Miss Castillo is down to negative seventy-five points.”
LeeAnn looked outside one last time. More than anything she wanted to run down to the pier and jump onto the airplane. She walked back to the ladder and began to climb down.
“What are you doing, Miss Yaeger?”
“I’m going back to help them,” LeeAnn said. “If I can reach them, I can show them the way out.”
“That’s against the rules, Miss Yaeger.”
LeeAnn discovered that the door into the ladder room would not open.
“There’s no going back, Miss Yaeger. You can go to the plane or you can sit where you are and starve to death. The choice is yours alone. I have no right to kill you now. But Miss Devereau just lost five more points. I have to leave the control room now to go kill her. I’ll talk to you some more if you’re still here when I get back.”
“Wait!” LeeAnn cried.
“Wait for what?” Titus said. “The voluptuous Miss Devereau will be such a delicious kill. I can’t wait.”
“No!” LeeAnn cried out in frustration and sorrow. She knew what she would say next, but didn’t want to do it. “I’ll sleep with you,” she cried, knowing exactly what she was saying. Knowing she had just pronounced her death sentence.
“Do you know what you just said?” Titus could hardly hide the joy in his voice.
“You kill me and give my points to them. That’s your rules.”
“Yes, they are, Miss Yaeger. Yes, they are.”
LeeAnn sank to the floor and sobbed in fear, and sorrow.
Tiger came for her. She was taken to a bedroom, stripped of her clothes and chained, spread-eagle, to the bed. Titus came into the room dressed in a terry-cloth robe and a lustful smile. He held a Bowie knife with a gleaming twelve-inch blade in his hand. He held the cold steel blade inches from her face.
“Do you know what this is? This is how I’m going to kill you. I’m going to plunge this knife into your body and stab you to death.” He was breathing heavily, like a drunken man. Drunk with lust. She closed her eyes and tried to be someplace else.
“Just do it,” she said. “Don’t tell me about it, just get it done.”
“But, Miss Yaeger, you’re taking all the fun out of it. You’re supposed to be begging for your life right now, promising me endless pleasures if I’ll just spare your life.”
“You get none of it from me,” LeeAnn said as brave as she could be.
“You’re not even looking at me,” he whined.
“Just get it done, you can rape me when you’re done,” LeeAnn insisted. Her face turned aside with disgust.
“This is not how I imagined this moment,” Titus complained. “I wanted you to beg.”
LeeAnn laughed sarcastically at him. “It’s not my idea of how I wanted my first time to be, either; but what can I expect from a man who has to kill a woman to keep her.”
Titus didn’t hear the insult. Something else caught his attention. “First time? Are you a virgin, Miss Yaeger?”
“Isn’t that in your file on me?”
“I didn’t believe it.” He put the knife away. “We can’t do it this way, Miss Yaeger. I have this wonderful Aztec virgin sacrificial ceremony I’ve been dying to try out; but I’ve never had a virgin to sacrifice. You’re the first. You don’t mind if we do this with a bit more flourish?” And without waiting for an answer he rushed out to begin the preparations.
An hour later found her in a small dressing room. She wore a white bridal dress, with a lace-up bodice; but instead of lace, the dress was decorated with large white feathers. Feathers along her arms, a feathered trail, and a feathered mask and veil.
“You are so lucky,” said Number Nine, who was helping her to dress. “I wish the Master found me so beautiful, to be his eternal bride.”
LeeAnn just stared at her, too dumbfounded to speak.
“It is my fondest dream to serve my Master’s pleasures,” Nine said, “Is it not yours?”
LeeAnn had no answer. Nine finished her preparations and left the room, leaving LeeAnn alone with her thoughts. She was surprised to find that she was no longer afraid, she had faced her fears and defeated them. The emotion most overwhelming her was sorrow. Sorrow at her losses, her life, her friends, her father. All that she had.
How would her father deal with this? There wouldn’t even be a body to bury. She would simply have disappeared off the face of the earth. No explanations.
She remembered back to when her mother had died. Her father had not dealt with that very well. The doctors had to drag him out of his mother’s room; he would not leave her. When he did come home from the hospital, he did not speak to her. He locked himself in his room and didn’t come out for two days. Her grandparents had come over to care for her, and it was left to them to make the arrangements.
On the day of the funeral he finally emerged from his room. He was dressed in his Marine dress blues. “I’m sorry, LeeAnn,” was the first thing he had said to her. “I thought I had escaped from the land of death. Did you know your mother waited for me to come home from Vietnam? Her friends told her I wasn’t worthy of her to wait for, that I wasn’t coming back anyway. But she waited for me.”
He held her in his arms. “She’s waiting for me now. On the other side. And when I get there she’ll ask again, ‘What took you so long?’ And I’ll say, ‘I had a daughter to raise.’”
“Oh Daddy!” LeeAnn cried. She was sobbing when Nine came back into the room with a glass.
“Drink this.”
“What is it?”
“It is a drug to dull your emotions, so you will feel no fear. It will dull your senses, so when the knife enters your body, you will feel no pain. It is our Master’s wish that you die painlessly, without fear.”
“I don’t need a drug for that,” LeeAnn resolutely said.
“You must drink,” Nine insisted, “or I will suffer the Master’s anger.”
LeeAnn drank, and the world went gray and fuzzy. It was true, she felt nothing.
Niki had never felt so much fear in all her life. She was trapped in a vertical shaft. The metal hatch above her, through which she had descended, was sealed. Below her was a hundred foot drop; into what she couldn’t tell. A swirling dark mist obscured the bottom.
She knelt huddled on a wire mesh platform less than two feet square, there was nothing else to grab a hold of. From a hole in the wall next to her a thin metal spike slowly emerged to poke her in the ribs. She twisted her body to avoid being slowly impaled. Then another spike began to emerge. Niki suddenly realized the wall was full of small holes. Soon her choice would be to be impaled or to leap to her death.
She screamed in fear and nearly lost her balance.
The metal hatch slid open, a hand reached down and pulled her up. It was one of the samurai. “Come,” he said. She was taken to a dome-shaped chamber, with a dome-shaped plexi-glass window in the center. Gabby was already there, filthy, bleeding, haggard; but alive.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Look!” Gabby said, and pointed into the room below them. There were four samurai in feathered costumes and masks in each corner of the room. In the center was a thick stone slab about six feet long and about four feet above the floor. There were intricate Aztec carvings on the slab. The walls were painted with murals of snakes and green feathered birds. “I think he’s going kill somebody down there and he wants us to watch.”
A girl in a white, feathered bridal gown, shuffling along as if in a trance, entered the room, accompanied by three girls in colorful feathered costumes. They laid the bride out on the slab and chained her down with fine gold chains. One stood at her head, one at her feet. The other left the room.
“It’s Lee,” Gabby said. “He ‘s going to do something to Lee.”
A tubby man in a brightly colored, feathered robe entered the room. The third girl was behind him. He too wore a feathered mask. He raised his arms and chanted. The third girl handed a wash basin and a gold pitcher. He poured what appeared to be red wine into the basin and washed his hands. The Chinese girl took the basin and left, returning with an intricately carved wooden box. The man took out a gleaming, silver-bladed knife. The handle was in the form of a snake. He held it above his victim and continued his chants.
The other two girls began to unlace the bride’s bodice to reveal her delicate bosom. They stood aside. The false priest plunged the gleaming blade into her chest. Blood spurted and filled the blood gutter, running down to fill a golden pail. The false priest deftly made another cut and reached into the bloody open chest. He cut again and lifted a human heart toward the ceiling. It was still beating!
Niki shrieked and fainted. Gabby stared in morbid fascination as the priest placed the heart on a silver platter and the girl carried it out of the room. The priest removed his mask and smiled up at Gabby. It was, of course, Titus. Lee was the weak one, Gabby thought. She wasn’t surprised that Lee was the first one to die. The weak ones die first. Niki was a coward, she would be next. But Gabrielle still thought that she was strong enough to survive.
Niki and Gabby were taken back to their bedrooms and ordered to clean up and change into clean clothes. Then the samurai took them back to the dinning hall. There Titus rejoined them.
“Good evening, ladies,” he greeted them, “I hope you’re enjoying your stay as much as I am. Please, sit and partake. Refresh yourselves. I have a special treat for you before we resume our game.”
Number Four entered the dinning hall carrying a covered, silver platter. “Let me tell you about an ancient American Indian custom,” Titus said. “After defeating their enemies in battle, they would often cut out their fallen enemies’ hearts and eat them. Some might see this as a barbaric and savage custom. For them it was a sign of great respect for their fallen foe. They believed that a man’s courage resided in his heart. By eating his heart, they hoped to gain some of their enemies’ courage.”
Four removed the lid from the platter. Upon sat a steaming human heart.
“I have brought you Miss Yaeger’s heart, in hopes that you may gain some of her courage.”
“What’re you talking about?” Gabby demanded. “Lee’s dead. She screwed up.”
“Miss Yaeger reached the exit,” Titus said. “She had one hundred points and I was obliged to let her go. But she sacrificed herself to save you two worthless parasites. She offered to sleep with me knowing I would have to kill her.”
“Wait. Wait!” Gabby exclaimed excitedly, seeing, at last, a way out. “ I get half her points, don’t I?”
He nodded.
“And the second girl who offers to sleep with you gets seventy-five points?”
He nodded.
“Okay!” Gabby blurted out the words as she could speak. She didn’t want Niki to beat her to it. “I’ll sleep with you, you fat pig!”
Titus nodded, knowingly. But he didn’t smile. He motioned to his samurai. “Take her. Prepare her!” They dragged Gabby away. He turned to Niki. She was curled up in a fetal position on her chair, too horrified to act. to speak. Her eyes were locked on the heart sitting before her. “Eat, Miss Devereau, it may be your last meal.” He left her alone with the heart.
They took Gabby to a bedroom deep within the maze and chained her spread-eagle to the bed. Titus soon joined her. He circled the bed like a cat toying with its prey. He climb onto the bed and straddled her. Then he took out his Bowie knife.
“I’m sorry to tell you this,” he said with an evil grin, “but I didn’t sleep with Miss Yaeger. That makes you the first one.”
“No! No!” Gabrielle Castillo screamed as he plunged the knife directly into her heart. Agony flashed like thunderbolts through her body slamming into her brain at the speed of light. He yanked out the blade and rammed it into her belly. Blood and gore spewed on him. She tried to scream, but her lungs filled with blood and blood sprayed from her mouth. He thrust the knife into her body again. And again. All rational thought fled from his fevered mind. He descended lower than the most savage beast. He sought only to destroy. He slashed and stabbed and hacked until he was mired in gore.
When he finally staggered from the bed, soaked in blood and dripping shredded flesh, the thing on the bed no longer looked human. There was but one emotion remaining in him. The blackest depression. He moaned in agony. His emotional high had left him, abandoning him to the deepest despair. The knife slipped from his fingers and he staggered toward the shower. Only one thing could cure his emptiness. He needed another fix. As he washed the blood from his body his only thought was murder.
Niki wept from terror and despair. She wearily trudged along the darkened tunnel, no longer caring where she went. LeeAnn was dead and Gabby had abandoned her. Niki shook violently. She just wanted it all to stop.
She came to two doors. One read, “Mona Lisa.” The other read, “Desdemona.”
Niki had no idea what either meant. Which is the right door? ‘Mona Lisa’ was the name of a movie, about a prostitute. Didn’t she die in the end? Niki didn’t know. She decided to take the other door.
Titus was waiting for her on the other side, sitting on a couch. He motioned for her to join him. She obediently sat down. “You have no idea what you chose, do you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Mona Lisa is the name of a famous painting by Leonardo da Vinci. He made her immortal through that painting. Do you understand the clue?”
She shook her head.
“Desdemona was character in one of Shakespeare’s plays. She was the white wife of a black king. She was accused of being unfaithful to him and he strangled her to death. Do you understand.”
Niki shook her head. She was too weary for this. Too weary to care.
Titus took her delicate throat in his hands. “Don’t you see the irony? It’s so delicious.” His hands closed around her throat.
Nicole Devereau was too weary to fight him. It’s finally over! was her last thought. As his hands painfully crushed her throat, she unconsciously put up her hands to struggle; but it was too little, too late. The pain gave way to blackness. Her arms dropped and her body gave a final shudder. Titus lowered her head to the pillow and kissed her lips. Snuggling comfortably next to her he fell asleep.
Titus awoke refreshed and full of joy. Niki’s body was as cold as clay when he pulled a sheet over her. He must have slept all through the night. He stepped to the nearest intercom station and called the slave quarters.
“Number One, please meet me in my personal bedroom. And wear your stewardess uniform. I’m feeling very up this morning.” He called Tiger to arrange the clean up and the girl in the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He showered in the nearest shower and took his secret elevator to the dinning hall. He looked forward to a light meal, then several hours of prolonged pleasure by Number One’s skilled body.
Four did not appear when he rang the little bell. He rang it three times and still she did not appear with his breakfast. It’s the death penalty for her, he gleefully decided as he entered the kitchen to search for her.
Somebody had beat him to it. There was a pool of blood soaking into the tile near the intercom station. A butcher knife lay cast aside on the floor. Blood was smeared across the floor tiles. And when he opened the cabinet at the end of the blood trail, Number Four’s lifeless body tumbled out. There was a blue-black hole in her smooth skin above her left breast and her silken blouse was drenched in blood. His own blood froze in horror. His knees began to tremble. No one was allowed to kill the girls but him. There was a traitor among the staff. His carefully constructed house of cards came tumbling down as Titus realized he was no longer safe in his own realm. His comfortable cocoon was ripped open and he was exposed to all the worldly dangers his twisted mind could conceive.
He dashed back to the intercom station and called down to the maze.
“Tiger! Tiger! There’s a traitor among us. Somebody has killed Number Four in the kitchen.” he shrieked. His voice bordered on hysteria. “Have each samurai pair up to search for the traitor. Kill any one who is alone. Kill all the girls if you have to, but find the traitor and kill him!”
“As you command, my Master,” Tiger obediently said.
“I’m going to lock myself in my bedroom,” Titus said. “Come for me when you’ve killed the traitor.” He hurried out of the kitchen, anxious to leave the dead girl behind, anxious to escape whomever had killed her. Anxious to avoid his own death. He imagined enemies around every corner. Dark dread terror propelled him to his next stop: the armory.
Blood and brain matter were spattered on the wall by the armory. Trembling with fear Titus pushed open the door with his toes and peered inside. Monkey lay face down on the floor. The back of his skull was missing. The gun cases were all shattered, the guns scattered on the floor. Each weapon looked as if somebody had taken a hammer to it. Titus dropped to his knees to open a secret panel under one gun case. His hidden pistol was still there. His hands shook as he reached in to retrieve it. He fumbled it at first and tried again. He seized it, as if his life depended upon it. He checked it. It was loaded. Six shots.
He fled toward his bedroom. Upon arriving he jerked open the door and slammed it behind him. He rammed the dead bolt shut. And breathed a sight of relief. He was safe!
Or not?
Somebody sighed. Somebody rustled the sheets on the bed.
Titus whirled and fired in a blind panic. He pumped all six bullets into the lithe body on the bed. There was a startled grunt and the body collapsed. He slapped at the light switch. Number One, dressed in her sexy red uniform, lay on the bed. Her body was riddled with bullet holes and her blood oozed out to soak the bedsheets. Her open eyes stared at him accusingly.
He opened the intercom panel. “Tiger! I’m in my bedroom. Hurry!”
“Master!” there was a slight hint of panic in Tiger’s voice. “The maze has been sealed, the booby-traps reset. We are trapped down here! Horse and Snake are dead. You must go to the control room and release the doors.”
“Don’t give me orders!” Titus shrieked indignantly. “I’m staying right here until you’ve killed the traitor. You find a way out and kill him! Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Master,” he said in a subdued tone.
The traitor had been in the control room! Titus suddenly realized. He had never felt so vulnerable in all his life. He sat on the bed next to One and held her lifeless hand. ”Somebody has to protect me,” he told her in a trembling voice. “I paid them to protect me!”
The secret door to the control room was opening. Titus watched, paralyzed with fear, as a hand holding a gun emerged.
It was one of the Chinese girls. She pointed the huge muzzle right at him. That wasn’t right. Only Number One had been trained in firearms. And she was dead.
“Put your weapon down and raise your hands or I’ll blow your head off!”
Titus stared at her, unable to move. This girl was too tall. She had an American accent.
“Miss Yaeger!” he cried out, as if greeting an old friend. “You’re still alive!”
LeeAnn’s aim didn’t wavered a bit. “Put your weapon down now!”
Titus smiled, his fears evaporating. “As you say, Miss Yaeger.” He immediately dropped the useless pistol. And obediently raised his hands in surrender. “I’m very surprised to see you, Miss Yaeger.” he said pleasantly, disarmingly. “ I could’ve swore I cut out your heart.”
LeeAnn didn’t comprehend his sudden lack of fear. She had a Colt .45 and she knew how to use it. It was aimed at his heart. And he was smiling at her.
“One of your girls drugged me and took my place,” LeeAnn told him. “I guess she felt left out. Too bad you couldn’t tell us apart.”
“On the contrary, Miss Yaeger,” Titus said. “I’m delighted to see you alive. I was afraid I had a traitor on my staff. That was unthinkable. But now I see it was you.” He paused. “it was you who killed Number Four and Monkey?”
“I gave them a choice,” LeeAnn said. “They chose to die.”
“I’m sure it was self-defense, Miss Yaeger,” Titus told her. “You’re no murderer. That’s why I have nothing to fear from you. You’re free to go, Miss Yaeger. You’ve won the game and performed spectacularly. If you will permit me, I will go to the control room and call the airplane for you.”
“You don’t mind if I don’t trust you,” LeeAnn said. She tossed a pair of handcuffs to him. “Lock one around your wrist the other on the bedframe,” she ordered him. “Let’s see how you like it for a change.”
“Of course, Miss Yaeger.” He locked himself to the bed. “But I assure you it’s unnecessary.”
“Humor me.”
“But how do you plan to leave the island if I don’t call the plane?”
“I’m taking your boat,” LeeAnn said. “Yeah. I know about your boat. I know we’re only twelve miles off the Mexican coast. And I know you bribe the local cops to look the other way.”
Titus’s smile vanished.
“I’ve been in your control room,” LeeAnn said. Her voice wavered somewhere between hatred and sorrow. “I was too late to save Gabby and Niki. But I’ll see justice done.” Her voice grew stronger, more determined. “ I’ve broken into your personal computer. I downloaded all your diaries and financial records onto my dad’s computer at home. He’ll find it when he comes home tonight. He’ll know what to do with it.
“I’ve transferred all your money into a single account and erased all your financial records. I canceled your checks to the Chief of Police and the Mayor. I wiped your hard drive clean. You’re broke, buttface! Your friends will abandon you. The United States government will reach out and snatch you out of your rathole.
“And I’ll be there to testify against you!” LeeAnn swore, “I’ll see you strapped down and pumped full of lethal drugs. I’ll see you gasp out your last foul breath!”
Titus collapsed under his own weight. He was devastated. A mere girl had defeated him!
LeeAnn turned her back on him and left.
Titus screamed at her. He raged at her. His anger replaced his defeatism. He swore he would kill her yet.
He swore to make it his life’s work to kill LeeAnn Yaeger.
A plan came to him. He seized a hold of the bed and drug it to the intercom. ”Tiger, it was Miss Yaeger. She’s alive! Find her. Stop her. Bring her to me alive!”
“Yes, my Master.”
That wasn’t enough for Titus. He had a secondary plan. He called up the self-destruct sequence on the intercom and punched in the code for the boat house. He figured it would take her about five minutes to reach the boat house, five minutes to lower the boat, five minutes to gas it up and start the engine, and five minutes to crank open the doors. It would take her at least twenty minutes to escape. If Tiger didn’t report her capture in fifteen minutes, he would blow up the boat house.
Titus waited calmly for fifteen minutes. His only regret was that he might not witness LeeAnn Yaeger’s death. He pushed the trigger.
As soon as LeeAnn left the bedroom she headed directly to the elevator. She knew she had only moments before Titus or one of his bodyguards figured out how to escape. She took the elevator to the top, to the tunnel connecting the islands.
As she stepped out into the dimly lit tunnel something slammed into her hand, wrenching the gun from her hand. It clattered on the stone floor several feet away. Grinning lecherously, Tiger backhanded her across the face and slammed her to the floor. He stepped between her and the elevator. The gun lay useless behind him. He motioned to her to stand.
“Now we see how good you are,” he said with an evil grin.
LeeAnn rubbed her sore jaw. She backed up a bit and dropped into a fighting stance. Even as she did it, she realized her situation was hopeless. She had no doubt he was better than her. He was stronger than her, he was faster than her, and he out-weighed her by at least a hundred pounds. Even if she turned and ran to the opposite end of the tunnel, her desired destination, she couldn’t escape him. He would certainly catch her before she could open the elevator doors, enter the cabin, and shut them again.
“What martial art do you practice?” Tiger asked.
“American Kenpo,” LeeAnn said defiantly.
“American karate is no good!” Tiger declared. “No Ki.”
“Fine with me!” LeeAnn challenged. “Let’s see if you can hit me with your stinking ki?”
“You first.” Tiger retorted. He motioned to her to come to him.
She came in at him, feigning a high kick, and went for his knee. He slammed down both blows and slapped her hard across the face, driving her to her knees. Upon reflection, she realized it had been a mistake to tell him what martial art she knew.
“Stand up, little American girl.”
She tried to sweep him, but was out of position. It was a desperate move he easily avoided and he kicked her in the ribs. It was a gentle kick and she realized he was toying with her.
“I said, stand up, little girl!” he barked at her.
She struggled to her feet. He came in at her like a blur. She couldn’t count the number of blows he landed. She feebly failed to block any of them and found herself sprawled on the floor again. Still, he hadn’t hurt her all that much. She could still breathe.
“Are you going to cry, little girl?”
“Why? Are you?” she snapped. She scrambled away from him and leapt to her feet. He wasn’t going to kill her, she was certain. He was saving her for his master. The worst she could expect was a thorough thrashing. That thought gave her a bit of courage.
She came in as fast as she could. There were no feigns this time. She poured every ounce of her energy into every blow. He easily blocked them all. She blocked his first blow, but he powered through her blocks and slammed her to the floor. She scrambled back and staggered to her feet.
“Did that hurt, little crybaby?”
She rushed headlong at him, as if driven mad by his insults. He stepped aside and chopped her across the neck, driving her to her knees. Her momentum carried her forward as she tucked into a roll and rolled over the pistol.
She came up on one knee, in a shooting stance, the gun gripped firmly in both hands. She held it unwaveringly aimed at his heart.
“In American Kenpo they teach us never to give the weapon back after you’ve taken it away,” LeeAnn lectured him. “You will raise your hands, interlace your fingers, place your hands on top of your head, back against the wall, and go into the elevator. Or I will shoot you dead!”
Tiger grinned at her and tentatively took one step toward her.
“Take one more step toward me and I will shoot you!” LeeAnn warned.
Tiger grinned recklessly and took one more step toward her.
LeeAnn snapped off three shots in rapid succession. The first blew out his heart and severed his spine. The second shattered his throat and ripped open an artery. The third punched a hole in his skull right between his eyes and blew out his brains. Tiger dropped dead at her feet.
“Damn you!” she screamed at him. “What’d you think? I was kidding? My Dad was a Marine! He taught me to shoot!” He was the third person she had shot today, the third she’d ever shot. And she raged in anger at him. She had given him the same chance to save his life as she had given all the others. And he had forced her to kill him.
Holding the weapon in closer, she hurried down the tunnel to the last elevator.
Emerging into the daylight, LeeAnn bypassed the boathouse and went directly to the dock. Number Ten was waiting for her, in the freshly gassed boat, as they had arranged in the bridal room. LeeAnn untied the rope and leapt into the boat.
“Is the Master dead?” Number Ten asked in Chinese. She was trembling with fear.
Before LeeAnn could answer, there was a tremendous explosion which blew her off her feet and hurled both girls to the deck. Rock fragments and wood splinters rained down on them.
“What was that?”
“The Master blew up the boathouse,” Number Ten said. She was crying.
“Let’s get out of here,” LeeAnn said. “If he could blow up his boathouse, he can call for help. We have to get to shore before they figure out where we’re going.”
Behind them there was a sudden whoosh of escaping air as a huge air bubble spued fore from the water directly above the tunnel. A swirling whirlpool appeared.
“The tunnel has collapsed.” LeeAnn said. She wondered if the maze would fill with water and drown all the people she had trapped below. She felt helpless, but all she could do for them was to escape and send back help. She started the engine and roared away from the islands.

***

Titus smiled with satisfaction when he heard the explosion. Miss Yeager was either dead or trapped on his island now. He called Tiger on the intercom. Tiger didn’t answer.
Titus heard a sound he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t until he felt the water at his feet that he realized the strange sound was seawater trickling in under the door. It took him a few minutes to understand what must have happened, and even then he refused to acknowledge that it was happening. Water lapped at his ankles, then his knees, then his waist. Still he stood in stunned silence. As the water rose to his armpits he shook off his stupor and pounded on the intercom. “Tiger! Get me outta here!”
He screamed and shrieked orders until the water shorted out the intercom panel and rose to his mouth. He climbed atop the bed, the handcuff kept him stooped over. Number One’s body floated past him at eye level. Then the room was completely filled.
He jerked on the handcuff until his wrist bled. He jerked until the bones broke. He would have screamed in pain or anger, but his mouth was full of seawater.

***

A mile from shore LeeAnn powered down the boat and scanned the horizon. She wished she could see what was awaiting them on shore. Had Titus had time to call ahead and prepare a welcoming committee? If he had, surely they would be watching for this boat.
“Will I enjoy freedom?” Number Ten asked.
“Yes, you will,” LeeAnn answered. She stripped down to her underwear, which passed for a bikini swimsuit. Number Ten did the same. LeeAnn took out the credit card, the name on it was “T. Hunter.” “Your name is now Teresa Hunter,” she said to the Chinese girl, and you will enjoy your freedom; the possibilities will be endless.” She slipped the card into the other girl’s panty.
LeeAnn threw a cushion onto the deck and fired through it to muffle the shots. When the gun’s clip was empty, she threw it overboard. Steering the boat back out to sea, she pushed the throttle to full.
“Now we swim ashore,” she said and the two girls leapt into the water while the slowly sinking boat headed toward its watery grave.
Her plan was simple. Once they reached the shore, they would simply be two more bikini-clad tourist girls among the dozens swimming along the resort’s beach. She would hail a cab and go directly to the nearest American consulate. One phone call to her Dad and everything would be taken care of. Perhaps he had already seen the message she had left for him on his computer. Perhaps there would even be a squad of Marines waiting for her ashore. Teresa could request political asylum and with that credit card and its multi-million dollar line of credit, live a life of luxury.
Half a mile from shore, she realized the folly of her plan. While she alone could have reached the shore, she had failed to take into account that Teresa would not be as capable a swimmer. In short, Teresa was drowning.
LeeAnn swam back to her and tried to help her. Teresa grabbed her in panic and both girls sank. LeeAnn fought to break the other girl’s death grip and return to the surface. Gasping for breath, she dove again and, seizing Teresa by her hair, yanked her up. They both thrashed around, gasping for air until Teresa passed out from exhaustion and panic. Finally LeeAnn was able to grab her and continue toward shore.
Now then was a new problem. LeeAnn was too tired to reach shore. The tide had pulled them back to where they had started from. LeeAnn’s only hope was to release Teresa and try for shore alone. But Teresa had saved her life and LeeAnn could not abandon her. With her last ounce of energy she screamed for help.
Commander Clarke stood on the beach in his tourist disguise, swimming trunks and his loud Hawaiian shirt. Ignoring the bikini-clad girls, he had already plotted several possible landing sites. His official job done, he relaxed and admired the sights; he wondered what the Marines invading Lebanon in 1958 had thought as they waded ashore amidst the bikini-clad girls of Beirut’s resorts. That time there had been no gunfire.
Then he heard her, out at sea, a woman was yelling for help. He scanned the horizon until he stopped them: Two women, one supporting the other, about half a mile from shore, and the tide working against them. He looked up and down the beach for a lifeguard, but there was none. Few of the tourists had even noticed the life-or-death struggle which was playing out before them. He knew he was possibly blowing his cover, but Clarke could not stand idly by and watch two women drown. He ripped off his shirt and raced into the water.
A six-time Olympic Gold-Medalist in swimming events, Clarke had no trouble reaching the women faster than humanly possible; but in spite of the comic-book nick-name his men had given him, he could not fly them back to shore.
“Ayudenos,” one girl pleaded with him. In spite of the fact she spoke Spanish, both women looked Asian rather than Mexican. It puzzled Clarke for a moment, but he didn’t have time.
“Come to me,” he said, in Spanish, “let me take her.” And took the unconscious girl under his left arm. She feebly struggle against him. “Relax, “he said. “I’ve got you.”
“She doesn’t understand Spanish,” the first girl said, and spoke what in soft tones in what sounded like Chinese.
She relaxed and Clarke headed for shore. It wasn’t long before he realized the first girl was lagging behind. He looked back. He could see she was struggling. She was exhausted. She clearly wasn’t going to make it on her own. He looked back to shore. It was too far. There was no way he was going to be able to deposit this girl on shore and return in time to save her also.
“Como se llama usted?” he asked the struggling girl. “What’s your name?”
“LeeAnn Yeager,” she said. At least they’d know what to put on her tombstone, she thought as she realized she didn’t have the strength to reach the shore.
LeeAnn Yeager!” Clarke said. Now in English. “You’re American!”
“Yes.” It was all she could say.
“Your father sent me to find you,” Clarke lied. “I’m Lieutenant-Commander Kent Clarke, United States Navy.” He had turned around and swum back to her. “And I’m not going home without you.”
“I can’t save both of you,” he continued, “so you’re going to have to save yourself.”
“Yes, sir!” she said in rote.
“One stroke at a time. Just take it one stroke at a time.”
“Yessir.”
“Stroke! Stoke!” With him calling cadence, she reached for one more stroke. Then one more. While he swam circles around her, carrying his unconscious burden, she swam like a robot, without thought. With each command of “Stoke!” her arm reached out of its own accord and took one more stroke. The voice began to sound like the comforting voice of her father.
Clarke allowed himself a smile. She was going to make it. A few minutes later his feet hit sand. He raced ashore carrying the Chinese girl, quickly set her down and turned back. LeeAnn had collapsed in the surf. He ran to her, picked her up and carried her ashore.
“We make it?” she feebly asked.
“Damn straight you made it!” he said, never feeling so much pride for her as he had ever felt for any of his men who had done the impossible. And, at that moment, he realized she was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he had ever met.
“Under maritime salvage laws, I claim this vessel which I have salvaged from the sea.”
“What’a you talkin’ ‘bout?” LeeAnn asked.
“When we get home,” Clarke said, “you owe me a date.”
They rested in the warm sand, under the yellow sun, and LeeAnn began to giggle. “We beat ‘im,” she said to Teresa. Clarke had stood up. “My friend requests political asylum in the United States,” she told him. “Can you take us to the American consulate?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Clarke said all business. He immediately realized something extraordinary had happened. And that there was still a threat of danger. His combat senses came alive.
Two Mexican men were approaching them. And they didn’t look like tourists or hotel staff.
“Vete, gringo,” one of them hissed at Clarke, “las chinas son nuestras.”
The other pulled out a knife and very deliberately showed it to Clarke.
Clarke broke his arm. He also took the knife away and used it to slice open the first thug’s forehead. Blinded by his own blood, the thug didn’t even seen the blows that broke both his knees. The second man opened his mouth to scream in pain, but he wasn’t conscious long enough.
LeeAnn looked down at the two shattered thugs. It had taken Clarke less than two seconds to destroy them. She had never seen anything like it, not even from her Kenpo instructor. “Karate?”
“Kung Fu,” Clarke replied. “With Navy SEAL modifications.” He was already looking for more trouble. “Let’s go to my car.”
“Superman,” LeeAnn thought. “I’ve just met Superman.”

***

LeeAnn’s father took the tear-stained photograph from her hand’s. “Why me, Daddy?” she asked in anguish, “I am I still alive and they’re not.”
“Because you could do it, LeeAnn,” Dean Yeager said. “You were strong enough to end a nightmare and bring a monster to justice. If not for you, he’d still be out there, slaughtering innocent girls. But you were strong enough to defeat him. Remember that!”
He took her hand and helped her stand. “Now one of the best men I have ever met is waiting for you on the boat. Dry your tears, this is going to be the best day of our lives.”
He lead her down to the glass-bottom boat. The Navy band was playing the bridal processional as he walked her down the aisle. On one side were dozens of policemen and prosecutors and their wives, on the other side were dozens of Navy SEALs and Marines and their wives. A Navy chaplain stood at the end of the aisle. There were three bridesmaids, the Maid of Honor was that mysterious millionairess Teresa Hunter. The Best-Man was Marine Captain Arthur Clarke.
And, waiting for her with a smile, was the Groom, Commander Kent Clarke.
“Dearly Beloved,” the Chaplain began . . .
When he reached the part, “Is there anyone who can give reason why these two young people should not be joined in Holy Matrimony . . .”
“Yes!” an hysterical voice screamed from the back of the boat, “She’s mine!”
Titus, seawater dripping from his wet-suit, aimed his spear-gun at her heart and pulled the trigger with his prosthetic hook.
The world became a blur for LeeAnn. Something slammed into her chest and hurled her to the floor. When she could see clearly, Kent was sitting over her-- the spear clutched in his right hand.
“NO!” Titus screamed in protest. At that instant a dozen of the world’s toughest men ran over him like freight trains.
A few minutes later LeeAnn was back in the ante-room. Her father had just left, and Kent came into see her.
“He’s dead,” Kent said. “Doc thinks it was a brain hemorrhage. His brain exploded.”
“You saw the body?”
“Yes.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes.”
“LeeAnn struggled to smile. “I guess we saved the state the cost of executing him.”
“Are you okay, I need to send the guests home.”
“Why?” LeeAnn took his hand, “We came here to get married today and I’m not leaving here until we are. You go tell them that!”
“Yes, Ma’am!” Kent grinned. Being married to LeeAnn was going to be a lot of fun, he could tell already.
“Just one thing, how did you do it? How did you catch that spear?”
“You remember the old TV show Kung Fu? You remember how the Shaolin monks used to dodge spears? Well, that was my brother’s and my favorite show, and every week after it was on, we’d go out and shoot arrows at each other and practice catching them.”
“You promise me, after we’re married, you’ll teach me Kung Fu?” LeeAnn said. She was the one smiling now.
“Of course,” Kent said, “Just as long as you teach me Kenpo.”
And they lived interesting lives ever after.

The End.