The Maze (ATCOM) Read online

  Antonio gave her a gentle nudge toward the caves. Attie had no choice but to choose one, so she veered left and started running. She heard Antonio counting behind her. When the tunnel suddenly ended, she heard him following behind at a slower pace.

  Cursing, her heart pounding, she banged her fists on the rock. Why did she have to pick the one that turned into a dead end? Damn, her instincts were off.

  Hearing the slow, easy scruff of Antonio’s boots getting nearer, she bent to retrieve her knife to protect herself when a door suddenly opened behind her. It was more of a crawl space than a tunnel, but she wasted no time diving through it.

  Sliding, she shimmied head first down a darkened tunnel, arms flailing.

  She flew out the mouth, rolled into a ball as she hit hard on a hard floor, jarring her shoulder and cracking her knee in the process.

  Ignoring the pain, she sprung to her feet, wavered, and waited for Antonio to come down after her. She waited five minutes and nothing. Giving up, she looked around her and scoffed at the ridiculous room.

  A fun-house from hell. Mirrors hung on all four walls and each made her reflection change. Holding the knife in a defensive position, she began to walk slowly around the room. Her reflection grew tall and thin as she passed one mirror and then short and fat in the next. The third one made her stop and stare as the blood drained from her face. It made her look like she was pregnant, her belly swollen.

  Attie took a horrified step back, but couldn’t tear her eyes off the image. She had never had thoughts of settling down with a family and having kids; she’d always seen herself as a soldier, not a mother. And suddenly she was thinking about it. The image suited her, as much as she hated to admit it. Reality slammed into her and practically knocked her off her feet. She stumbled back against the wall, a hand clamped over her mouth.

  What had she done?

  She could be pregnant. She and Noah had made love more than once without protection.

  Attie touched a hand to her stomach where a life could be growing at that very moment. Noah’s child. A child conceived under nightmarish circumstances and out of love for a man who would never know she loved him. She sank to the ground as a weight settled on her shoulders she couldn’t bear. She may be pregnant with a child who would never know his father.

  Her body trembled uncontrollably. She wanted to cry, to scream; she wanted to grab Noah by the shirt and shake him for leaving her here alone. Numb, she stared at the wall, rocking back and forth. She would take physical pain over this kind of pain any day. This was debilitating.

  “Damn you, Kincaid,” she whispered.

  Something moved on her left. Attie froze, her heart tripping in her chest. Without moving, she glanced sideways. Nothing. Only the sound of her own breathing. She buried her troubled thoughts and went into soldier mode. She needed to survive and that was the only way she knew how.

  Like Noah, she turned into a machine, pushing the hurt down, so she could fight.

  A sound came from farther down the cave. Past the mirrors in the darkness. A scrape. Antonio must have found another way in. She was at a distinct disadvantage since he’d designed this house of horrors.

  Time to go on the offensive if she wanted to survive. Wrapping her fingers around the knife, Attie rose to her feet and crept toward the sound. This time she ignored her reflection in the mirrors.

  Darkness wrapped around her as she made her way toward the sound. Faint light kept her from losing it completely, but familiar fear gripped her anyway.

  A door opened above her and a shot rang out in the tunnel. Rock splintered above her head. A mirror shattered beside her. Glass peppered her back as she broke into a run.

  Something shot out at her from her right side. Attie ducked and slashed at it with her knife, but it slammed into her and knocked her sideways. She flew into the wall, her knife skittering across the floor as dots danced in front of her eyes. Something came toward her. She raised her arms to ward it off.

  A witch’s cackle pierced the air, startling her. Attie looked up to see a black witch dangling on a wire in front of her. Hideous, with a long nose, green eyes and evil smile. It was sliced sternum to stem from her knife and white stuffing stuck out in every direction.

  “Damn you, Carlos!”

  “I can hear you, Attie. Did you enjoy my little childhood game? You know, I never was allowed to go to carnivals or fairs. I guess I indulged a bit here.”

  Antonio. And he was close. Attie opened her mouth to respond, but the witch suddenly opened her mouth and sprayed something directly into her eyes and mouth. She cried out as it stung her eyes and left a bad taste. Spinning away, she rubbed violently at her burning eyes.

  “Don’t tell me you never went through a house of mirrors before,” Antonio called as footsteps grew closer.

  She had to find her knife and move. Forcing herself to stop rubbing her eyes, she opened them and gasped.

  All she could see was a blur. Panic settled in heavier with each blink of her eyes. How was she going to defend herself if she couldn’t see her opponent? She had trained in the dark in the academy and had felt comfortable with it, but that was a long time ago. She hadn’t been afraid of what lingered in the darkness then. Now was a different story completely.

  Carlos had taken that away from her. Made her fear the dark and what lurked in the corners. Darkness meant pain. But as long as she could still see shapes, fuzzy or not, she was okay. She could handle that. Just don’t put her in the dark.

  Dropping to her hands and knees, she began patting the ground in search of her knife. The short, shallow pants of her breathing filled her ears. She tried not to panic but it got harder and harder with each breath. Her fear of the dark closed in on her. She needed Noah. He would distract her from her fears.

  She choked back a sob and continued to search frantically for the knife. She couldn’t think like that or she was done for.

  It took her a few minutes, but she found the knife and wrapped it securely in her hand. With a weapon, she didn’t feel so vulnerable.

  A hand fell on her shoulder. She reacted by slashing where Antonio’s chest should be, but hit nothing air.

  “That was close,” Antonio chuckled. “I’d forgotten how fast you were. You must rely on your other senses now, Attie. Trust them. Go now.”

  He gave her a push in the direction he wanted her to go and she gratefully moved away from him. She had never been hunted quite like this before. It kept her off her game, as she sensed was the intention. Nothing was what it seemed in this nightmare.

  Keeping her hands on the wall, she moved as fast as she could, fighting a battle inside as well outside. The darkness consumed and she hated it. With her sight taken away, she had no way of escaping it. She could hear Antonio counting again, giving her time to escape before he came after her. That helped her push through her fear and keep going.

  Fight it, Attie, you can do this.

  Brendan’s voice urged her on, offering comfort in her time of need. Uncle Jed’s face flashed before her eyes, weathered and tanned, soothing her frayed nerves. He motioned for her to follow him, so she did. She held onto the wall, focused her breathing and followed. Warmth surrounded her and she knew that Noah was there too, silently giving his support in her time of need.

  A hallucination from the drug Antonio sprayed at her? Right now she didn’t care. She needed it.

  Her fears started to fade as she gained confidence and moved faster. In the back of her mind she could hear Seth whispering to her, encouraging her. They were all here with her, helping her.

  The tunnels twisted and turned until she lost hope of ever finding her way back. She no longer heard Antonio behind her, so she stopped and waited. Listened. Using her other senses like he’d told her to do. She heard nothing but silence, an occasional pebble fall off the wall. No footsteps, no one else’s breathing.

  Taking a moment to catch her breath, she leaned against the wall. God, she was so tired. And sore. Her body felt like it had been put t
hrough the wash. No amount of training could prepare her for this emotional strain. It only made the physical pain that much worse.

  Sinking to the ground and propping her back against the rock, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else besides her fear and pain.

  Chapter 21

  “I’m coming for you, Atalanta. I can smell your fear,” Antonio called from down the tunnel. Closer now.

  Let him come.

  She was done running. She would no longer be the hunted.

  Or the victim.

  She’d played that part for too long. Until now, she hadn’t seen the power Carlos still held over her. She may have escaped his prison, but he still controlled her. In a way, she’d never really escaped.

  Time to take her life back.

  Knife in hand, she stood, ready.

  There came the slightest noise behind her. She spun, took aim and let her knife fly. A grunt and she saw him go down.

  On shaky legs, she ran to him and grabbed the gun. He slammed an elbow into her stomach. She wrapped her arm around his neck and squeezed with all her might. He managed to flip her over his head and body-slam her on the ground, knocking the breath out of her.

  Attie blinked, dazed, trying to draw in a breath. Instinct kicked in, forcing her to recover quickly and reach for the gun, but Antonio kicked it away and grabbed her by the shirtfront. The material ripped beneath his hands as he hauled her to her feet.

  He gave her a little shake. “You are one tough woman. You missed my lung by an inch,” he said with a mixture of admiration and amusement. “Good thing you can’t see clearly or I’d be in serious trouble. I’m impressed. Few have come this close to killing me.”

  Attie glanced at the knife sticking out of his shoulder. Another inch…

  “I could try again,” she offered.

  Antonio set her away from him. “Stay.” He pulled the knife from his shoulder with a grunt. Blood soaked his shirt instantly.

  He took his shirt off, rolled it and tied it around the wound the same as Noah had done for her. Pain twisted her heart but she pushed it away.

  He wiped the knife clean on his pants and handed it back to her.

  Attie took it hesitantly.

  “Put it away,” he said. “You won’t need it.”

  She kept one eye on him while she replaced it in her boot, confused. This man had spent most of the day hunting her and now he was returning her weapon and acting as if nothing had happened.

  “Sit,” he said, “before you fall down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Attie sat, but not too close. Antonio dropped down beside her and pulled out a cigarette. He cupped his hand around the end and lit it then drew heavily on it. He offered it to her, but she shook her head.

  “Fun, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Not really, no,” she answered honestly.

  “I wasn’t going to hit you.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  Antonio exhaled a stream of smoke. “It was a test to see how long it would take you to stop running and stand and fight.”

  Attie laughed harshly. She should have known. That was exactly something Carlos would do to her. Testing her to learn more about her. She had misjudged Carlos and his methods again. It would eventually get her killed. He hadn’t managed it the last time, but he was getting closer with each trial.

  “How did I do?”

  “You impressed the hell out of me and that’s not an easy thing to do. You’re a fighter. I like that in a woman.”

  Was she really sitting here with a mercenary having this conversation?

  “Did Carlos make you do this?” She rubbed her temples in effort to rid herself of the insistent pounding there.

  “I offered.”

  That surprised her. “Why?”

  “I’ve always been intrigued by strong women. By you.” He leaned close to say in her ear, “You’ll get through this just fine. You have an inner light that not even Carlos can snuff out. Hold strong to that and you’ll come out of this.”

  This was just too weird. The man that had just tried to kill her was giving her compliments. Maybe she was losing her mind. But, Antonio never had added up. He’d always been…mysterious.

  Attie leaned her head back against the wall. She hoped he was right, because she was beginning to wonder if she had it in her to finish this.

  “Are you finished hunting me?”

  Antonio drew heavily on his cigarette and blew smoke rings into the air. “Since I’m bleeding like a stuck pig, I suppose I am.”

  She closed her eyes in relief. She wasn’t up to any more running. “You didn’t tie that sling tight enough.”

  “Yeah, well, under the circumstances it’s the best I could do.”

  With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself onto her knees and started to untie the makeshift bandage through narrowed eyes that were just beginning to focus.

  Antonio snubbed out his cigarette on the ground and watched her through hooded black eyes.

  After inspecting the wound, she re-rolled the shirt and tied it snugly around his shoulder and under his arm. She noticed a black scorpion tattoo on his bicep and raised a brow.

  Antonio rolled his thick shoulders to test the dressing and gave her a nod. “A four-day drunk in Bosnia,” he said in way of explanation. “I know. I should have it removed, but it has sentimental value and I figure if anyone gets close enough to me to remember it, he’d be dead anyhow.”

  “Ah.” She sat back down and rested her head against the wall. Bosnia? Had he been in the military before turning mercenary? Special Forces maybe? She didn’t ask; he wouldn’t tell her. Then again, he was a mercenary so everything he told her was probably a lie anyway.

  “So what happens now?” she asked.

  “We wait.”

  “For Carlos.”

  “Yes.”

  She wanted to go to sleep, but she didn’t trust Antonio so she forced her eyes open.

  “How long have you worked for Carlos?”

  “I don’t work for him.”

  “Okay. How long have you known him?”

  “Stop fishing, it won’t get you anywhere. You can rest. As I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She would probably regret it, but she believed him and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  She woke alone and shivering. Still tired, she lay on the ground and fell back asleep but her dreams were tortured. Seth was whispering to her. So close but so far away. She couldn’t hear what he was saying. He whispered to her through the walls of their cells. She could smell blood and fear. Her blood and her fear. It made her gag. She hurt everywhere, the aches and pains melding into one big ache. Even her bones hurt. Carlos had been in minutes before and dealt a harsh punishment. It hurt to remember what he’d done to her. She was in the dark again and she hated it. But she wasn’t alone. Seth was with her, whispering to her. He gave her a reason to keep going. If she could get to him, they could make plans to escape. Both of them.

  He was talking to her again. What was he saying? Why wouldn’t he speak louder? What was he trying to tell her? It was important and she was failing him. She fought to get to him, willing her body to move but it disobeyed. Frustration built until she thought she would explode. She grew weaker after each bout of torture. Eventually Carlos would deal the blow that would kill her. She had to get to Seth before that happened.

  Then suddenly Noah was there in her cell telling her she was going to be okay, that he was going to get her out of there. She was safe now.

  But she wasn’t safe. Carlos was still here and he wanted her. He was going to make her pay for what she’d done to him. She had betrayed him in the worst way possible and for that she would never escape him. He had Antonio build this maze in the mountains to torture her and she was suffering. Brendan was here somewhere, needing her. She had to get to him.

  Noah was dead and she was alone. She had killed him, the same as Seth. She hadn’t heard the plans Seth was making, miss
ed the boat, resulting in Seth’s death. She didn’t stop Carlos from pulling a gun on Noah and now he was dead too. How was she supposed to live with this kind of burden? Her body hurt, her heart ached.

  Voices swirled inside her head. Noah’s. Seth’s. Brendan’s. Uncle Jed’s. Carlos’s. Antonio’s…

  “Wake up, mi amor.”

  Attie came awake with a start. She reached instinctively for her knife and sat up, prepared to fight, blinking to clear her mind, and found herself facing Carlos and his thugs.

  Carlos held out a hand to her. “Come, you must be famished.”

  She was starving but in no mood to be civil. She would much rather stab her knife through his black heart. As with everything else since she’d been here, she had no choice so she pushed herself to her feet without his help. She still had work to do. Her brother was in this maze somewhere and she would get him out.

  She was led down a series of passages and doors until they ended up in the same dining room she had first met Carlos in when she arrived. A buffet of foods lined the table and though her stomach churned it smelled good.

  “Sit. Eat.”

  She sat, but she didn’t eat. The last time she’d sat at this table Noah had been sitting across from her. It stirred heartbreaking memories, chasing away her appetite. She drank the glass of water sitting in front of her and forced her thoughts away. She refused the coffee, remembering what had happened to Noah the last time he drank it.

  “Eat. I insist,” Carlos said. “Nothing will harm you here.”

  Except him.

  Attie figured she wasn’t going to get anywhere until she did what he asked, so she picked up her fork and scooped a pile of food into her mouth. She paid no attention to what she ate, and didn’t care. She would consume it for energy and nothing else. When her plate was clean, she set her fork down and waited.

  “I heard you say a name in your sleep.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Seth. The name of your teammate. The coffee broker from Miami. Or should I say the undercover coffee broker from Miami? He was as good at his job as you were.”