Dark Muse (24 page)

“That’s not what I meant.” Poe thought of a
red light analogy, but there were no cars here. Not much would
work, though she had an idea. Judging by the blood in the girl’s
spittle, the idea had to work fast. Otherwise, she might as well be
another bass player.

“Can you stand?”

“I’ll try. Somehow, I don’t think I want to
die here looking at all these doors swinging like they’re waiting
for a cat’s tail to catch.”

“Wait, you have cats here?”

Again, the amused smile. “Of course, we’re
allowed some pleasant things by the Tritons.”

“Funny,” Poe replied. “I just figured that if
you did, they’d have three heads meowing in harmony or teeth that
chimed like a xylophone, or worse.”

“Who says they don’t?”

Poe helped the girl to her feet and prayed
she never found out. “Now watch what happens. Look at the space to
the left of the red door.”

They focused on the spot next to what almost
killed Lyra. Something shimmered slightly, like when the band used
to sit on the front porch in the summer. The sun baked the street
so much that the air above it appeared to waver like a video out of
focus.

“There’s something there.”

Poe thought aloud. “Another door. A black
one.”

“Isn’t black supposed to be bad luck, too?”
Lyra leaned on Poe as they stood before it.

“It all depends on your perspective. I love
my clothes and most of them are black, so whatever.”

They looked again past the first set of
doors. Another red one stood. Was there another shimmering black
one?

It came to her what to do. There was a way
out, if it didn’t destroy them in the process. She couldn’t bear to
think how Muddy would deal with her death.

Back to the Jersey Shore. Teens, kids and
parents paid a buck to maneuver through the maze for fun. She
remembered sailing through it each time while every one of her
friends slammed into the Plexiglas walls that faced the wild teens
and children in every direction. She had felt her way, utilizing
her lack of sight and her enhanced sense of perception to keep her
from a broken nose, toes or bruised self-esteem. While her friends
took forever to navigate the false turns and dead ends, she simply
breathed deep and felt her way, knowing that it was set up in a
logical puzzle. It had to be. The designers couldn’t make the maze
too difficult. No one would ever emerge back into the New Jersey
sun. All the while, DJs often played that Stones song since the
doorways had wild colors and the way out was often bathed in
black.

“Let’s do this. We need to find Muddy’s
brother and get out of here.”

She helped Lyra to her feet. “Can you make
it?”

Once again, she received an odd look. Usually
Poe had caught every bit of sarcasm and tossed it back in spades,
but the sight she now wielded dulled her wit. Just a bit.

“Are you kidding,” the teen replied. “Why
would you ask something dumb like that? If I don’t move, I’ll die.
I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but dying kind of
sucks here.”

Poe felt the blush hit her face before she
could stop it. Did Lyra mean the words in a harsh way, like they
sounded, or was Lyra messing with her?

“Sorry,” she managed. “I’m used to watching
bad horror movies. The terrible dialogue sticks with you
sometimes.”

“Maybe if we survive this, you can take me to
one of these movie things I keep hearing about,” Lyra said. “I’m
tired of visualizing everything without seeing what your people
have talked about.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Of course she did. Too
well, but the girl wouldn’t know she was blind back home. “Are you
able to travel between dimensions?” She stumbled a bit at the first
of the blackness. “I mean, can you cross over?”

“If you guys can, there must be a way to
bring a visitor.”

But they all had the instruments. And a
talent. “Sure. I’d love to have you over.” Just not
my
house, she thought. The image of her father came storming back to
her. He might hate Lyra and take it out on her, or even worse, like
her.

As they stepped over the threshold, the
circus began. “Oh my,” Poe exclaimed.

Red blazed into their eyes from all
directions.

Every red door began to open and shut. Slam,
rather, with the force that nearly killed Lyra. Though the path
ahead was clear moments ago, the bright color blurred her vision,
as if every opening gave birth to an inferno.

But, where were the black doors? Were they
still there?

“How are we going to do this?” Lyra’s voice
shook. She coughed again.

“I’ve got it,” Poe said, though fear struck
her from all sides. She recalled those bad nights at home when
everything she did drew a fire of another sort. The kind that
forced mom into a corner and ignited the man she hated to call
father.

“You sure?”

Not really, but it sounded good. “Now, when I
step, step with me. Same time, same speed.”

Lyra rubbed her arm. “I think I know what you
mean. If one of those doors hits my head, game over. Head
over.”

Poe counted, thinking of the flashing lights
in the mirror maze, the timing she needed to sneak out when all
hell broke loose at home. Timing was everything. Sometimes it saved
your life, or parts of it, like jumping rope with razor wire.

“Go!”

As the red door slammed to their left, they
bounded right, into a blackness so dark, all vision burned away. A
hot wind hit their backs, but they stood in safety.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Lyra said, taking a
deep breath. “If that’s all it takes, I might just live to die by
the hands of the Tritons after all.”

Nothing in Poe’s life ever came that easy,
except singing. “That wasn’t bad.
This
will be. Look.”

They peeked out of the corridor where they
stood and saw another red door then another black door. And then
another red on the opposite side. Two red doors swung with the
safety of the black in the middle. One swung clockwise, the other
slammed counter. If either hit them, their bodies would turn into
pin-balling soup in a heartbeat. “Okay, that’s not so bad, is
it?”

“Hope not. It’s probably best not to over
think it,” Poe said. “Ready?” Lyra nodded and they stepped together
just as the reds swung closed. They made it to the next safe zone.
And froze. “Okay, this
is
bad.”

The path became crystal clear as Poe studied
her options. First, they passed one red deadly door. Then two. With
each threshold, another joined the gauntlet, turning the scene into
a blender they would have to run through. That is, if they held
their timing in check.

It’s like jumping through razors, Poe
reminded herself. Pretend it’s just a game.

“Can’t we just sit here for a while and plan?
Maybe there’s a back door.”

That was it. Why didn’t she see it? Because
it would likely kill both of them, Poe thought to herself, though
choosing not to speak it. “Ready?”

“No,” Lyra said with labored breath. In the
light reflecting off the doors, fresh blood appeared on her brow.
“I need a minute.”

“Oh, no,” Poe said, dread raining down on
her. A faint creaking sound ahead threw new fear into her.
“Watch.”

Ten feet separated them from the next black
zone, which signaled safety in its invisibility. A quartet of doors
awaited them.

“Are you worried about what we can’t see on
the way?”

“No,” Poe said. But then again, she did
wonder what lie on either side of the path they would run through.
Was there a step, jump, hop or free fall to the left or right? Even
on the straight path?

“Just watch,” she said. All four doors
creaked open slowly before slamming home into some unseen
frame.

“That’s all? We can time that, no
problem.”

Yeah, it was a problem, but not the big one.
After the doors slammed shut, the creaking began again. In her
mind, Poe counted 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

All four swung open the opposite way, right
into the black where they had planned on running. If they made it
to the black, the red would open right away and crush them with no
room to spare. Poe hated revolving doors as it was and this tossed
the biggest monkey wrench into their situation. At least with
normal doors, if you got stuck, you lived to tell about it.

“But,” Lyra said, “that means, there is no
chance to get through there. We’re squished!”

Poe inhaled. She didn’t survive her home life
this long just to die here at the mindless moving of some doors.
“No.” She took a deep breath. “Eight beats. That’s two measures. We
have plenty of time. We run, right into the closing doors and slide
in between. We find the next opening, finish the count and run
before they make us skinnier than one of those cover models that
make me sick.”

“What? We’re not going to—”

“Just zip it and follow me. No excuses,” Poe
said as resolve bore into her heart. “You want to live, move with
me and fast, step for step.”

She pulled the injured girl through the
quartet with only the breeze of the crimson door touching them—only
to find a quintet. Beyond that, they encountered a sextet, a septet
and finally, an octet—eight doors swinging in blender-like
fashion.

They were going to die if they tried the
octet. There was no way either could fit through before all of the
doors swung shut, even one at a time, especially if they weren’t in
sync.

But she would try, anyway.

“You know,” Lyra said, “whenever I wanted to
skip out and listen to a musician visiting through the River, we
always watched through the—”

“The window!” How did Poe miss that? With the
path lined up so tight, the walkway seemed the only way to
escape.

Neither one of them had thought about a side
exit. Most of the Egyptians and Mayans, who built the pyramids, the
non-martyrs anyway, always had a way to sidestep the pitfalls they
built.

“But we have to find it first. Remember the
misstep we took when we didn’t walk
that
way?”

The fall still caused her body to ache. But
sometimes, one just had to go for it and not worry about what could
happen. Just live and aim for your goal. Even her father said that
once, right before he’d smashed one of his cars while driving drunk
then came home to take it out on both women.

“It’s now or never.”

“Where do we aim?” Lyra shook as she
attempted to right herself.

“I have no idea, but, if I’m right, we’ll
know before we die.”

“Good to know. I’d hate to find out
after
it killed us.”

They stepped off the path, and to their
relief, didn’t fall into a bottomless pit. A sturdy surface greeted
their feet. “Ready?” Poe’s sarcastic smile matched Lyra’s. “For the
music they didn’t want us to hear.” For the freedom, and all that
they took away.

Lyra followed Poe, taking each step one at a
time, both trying not to let the flaring red of the doors blind
their way. If there was a window, Poe shuddered to think what would
happen if they missed it. Second by second, step by step they
walked, each breath echoing the hammering rhythms of their hearts.
Where was it?

A dozen more steps. Neither of them plunged
to their death.

“There.” Poe pointed just three feet ahead of
them.

“Where?” Lyra couldn’t see it.

Well, firsts do happen, Poe mused. She could
see the way when someone else couldn’t? Mrs. Berg would be proud.
“Give me your hand.” She took the other girl’s hand and felt for
the rectangular opening in a wall that neither could see. Then she
waved it around the sill where a hard material lined the escape
route.

“How do we know what’s on the other
side?”

Poe went silent.

“That’s what I figured.”

Both felt their way and perched themselves on
the sill. What would happen if it was another trap? She remembered
her dad stumbling up the stairs in the middle of the night and she
prayed she would die. That was before she’d realized one of the
band would take her in for the night. Only her mother knew the
truth. She’d confronted the man once and threatened him with the
loss of a body part or two. But she wasn’t a part of Poe’s life any
longer and never would be again. Even if, by chance, her mother did
want to come back into her life again, Poe knew the woman would
never stand up for her.

“Rely on yourself,” her mother had said.
Thanks, Mom
. Maybe for once, the woman had a point that made
sense.

She smiled at Lyra and pushed off.

Both of Poe’s feet landed on solid ground.
Ahead, a light and another door stood in her way, but somehow, she
knew this phase of the fight was over.

“How did you learn to not care if you would
die like that?” Lyra stared her down, amazed and admiring. She’d
landed carefully, but in obvious pain.

“Try living where I live.”

“You have jails, too?”

Poe flinched. “If we did, I’d stay in my cell
all day. It’s the warden who scares me.” As they walked through the
exit to find their band mates, she wept and spilled her story for
the first time since a year ago when the band had broken wide open
with all of their baggage.

Now, again, the tears flowed like pain.

Chapter Twenty

Corey landed in a world unknown to him;
someplace he didn’t think could exist inside a mountain. Then
again, this wasn’t Jersey anymore. He brushed himself off after
tumbling head first at the bottom of the slide, feeling lucky not
to have incurred a concussion.

Where were the others? Would they be coming
down before or after him? He thought of the monster that chased him
and figured they’d taken a detour.

If one of them didn’t make it, he’d never
forgive himself. He always thought of himself as the big brother to
the band. They trusted him and took him in when it seemed like both
of his worlds eschewed him. His old stomping grounds didn’t want
him, and the suburbs, lower middle class as it was, still regarded
him with a cautious eye.