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19. Olivers Ordeal

  Caleb sighed in relief and stepped off the surveillance portal. He slapped New Caleb on the back.

  “She made it!” he leant on his knees like he’d just completed a marathon. “She made it…”

  New Caleb’s brow wrinkled. “But we expected her too?”

  “No, no.” Caleb pointed to his brain. “You’re in here, but you don’t understand the signals. We didn’t know she would do it. We hoped. There’s a difference.”

  New Caleb mulled it over. “I think you’re the one that’s confused. That isn’t hope. It's a delusion.”

  Caleb shook his head. “How can it be a delusion if it came true?”

  “Because you knew she would win. You made a value judgment based on all you know about her, and decided that she was going to triumph. You made a wise prediction.”

  Caleb blushed. “Okay. Sure. When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound too bad.”

  He placed one foot back on the surveillance pad. “Can we see Oliver?”

  New Caleb nodded.

  Caleb prepared for the rush this time. He held his breath as he was propelled out of his body and into Oliver’s head.

  This isn’t the same maze.

  Unlike the twisting labyrinth that Caleb and Kayleigh had faced, Oliver stood at the centre of a low and man-made cavern. Hewn from the same marble as the labyrinth, the cavern closed over Oliver like a coffin. Like the labyrinth, there was no obvious light source, but it was lit all the same. Oliver craned his neck to fit through the constricting cave.

  Oliver breathed out pure steam as he pulled his polo collar up over his neck to protect against the bitter cold. He rubbed his red and swollen hands together to try to shake some life back into them. No luck.

  Ahead, the cavern flared out into a bare room. Oliver immediately stretched out to occupy the extra space. He cracked his back and stretched his arms.

  He’s so tired. Caleb thought. How long has he been out there?

  A leathery stalactite hung from the ceiling. Oliver approached it slowly, grazing the warm and wet surface with his fingertips. He felt bones threaded under the leathery surface, giving it shape and structure like the poles of a tent. He lay his palm across it, feeling it pulse. Whatever it was, it was alive.

  Like a bat…

  The air smelled thick and earthy, like a barn.

  “Oh shit.” Oliver whispered, realizing just as the wings retracted to reveal a sinewy core that he was face-to-face with a vampyr.

  It had grey, lightly furred skin and the pointed ears of a bat. Its eyes snapped open to reveal glowing orbs of solid crimson.

  The vampyr hissed, flexing long fangs that jutted from its mouth like a nightmarish walrus.

  Oliver headed back but the doorway had since been sealed. The vampyr’s head remained fixed on its prey, even as its body twisted to find the ground.

  “I don’t… you don’t want me.” Oliver stammered. Adrenaline suffused his body as he frantically ran across the length of the room.

  The vampyre waited, its lithe arms flexing to suffocate the light with its obsidian wings.

  “My food,” the vampyre said, in the same way a noble squire would say “my liege”. The vampyr bowed gracefully, its movements at odds with its feral appearance.

  Not it, thought Caleb and Oliver in unison. He.

  “It is not often that one such as yourself finds his way so deep into the labyrinth.”

  “Is that right?” Oliver said. Fear gripped him so hard he struggled to find his own voice.

  The vampyre nodded deeply. “Indeed. I was not expecting a meal so soon after the calamity.”

  The vampyr gestured upwards. “Belker was a fine employer.”

  “He’s not dead.”

  The vampyr furrowed his brow. “Oh? I find that hard to believe. The explosion was rather substantial. My colony suffered more than a few fatalities.”

  He leant into Oliver, studying his face. “I was there when the helicopter hit. I remember who jumped upon it to seal the fate of those in the vicinity.”

  “We were fleeing the scene. The same as you. Belker had set the place to blow.”

  The vampyr embraced Oliver in his wings, pushing him to the floor like a dancing partner in a golden-age Hollywood picture. “My sweet, sweet food… The man was obsessed with immortality. The last thing he would do is kill his own creation. Unless of course, somebody else had already besmirched it.”

  Oliver shrank away as the vampyr theatrically turned his nose up in a show of disgust. The creature stank of guano.

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  It reminded Oliver of a childhood holiday.

  It reminded Oliver of the cave.

  Wait, Caleb thought. Is the labyrinth personalized to each of our lives?

  Oliver’s memory was a holiday.

  Mexico didn’t agree with him. It was too hot. Too sticky. And at 10 years old, the colourful displays at the beach, the cheap beer and the perfectly spiced tacos were lost on Oliver.

  “Don’t leave the hotel grounds,” his mother warned him as she held onto the stem of her half-empty margarita glass for dear life. “You’ll get swept away by bandits and held for ransom.” She leant in closer, her breath stinking of sugary booze. “We’re not that rich, darling. They’ll have to send your head home in a box.”

  They had been rich, but it was money gained from high-stakes poker games. It was easier to lose than win. If Oliver had looked into the future at this point in time, he never would have believed that was really him in the Squish Burger uniform. It was too far to fall.

  I had no idea. Caleb thought. He seemed so at home bossing the world around in that restaurant.

  Bored and woozy from the heat, Oliver peered through the bars that separated the hotel from the real Mexico. A tiny bat, with round, friendly eyes and a stub nose, waved excitedly. Its little wings shook to and fro, bringing a smile to Oliver’s drained face.

  It was too hot. He wasn’t thinking straight. But he knew one thing. He wanted a friend.

  Oliver inspected the bars. They were pretty wide really. He already had most of his shoulders through, even without thinking too hard about it.

  The bat chittered, like it was congratulating Oliver for a job well done. He looked at it for approval, and it seemed to nod.

  He decided to go for it. Working his other shoulder through, holding his breath as he eased his chest through. It was a struggle, and it hurt a little, but his other shoulder eventually popped out of the gates and into the wild. Then it was just a case of stepping out, taking care not to knock his ankles on the way out.

  The bat had moved to the tree behind. It chirped again, as if to say “This way, Oliver!’

  He followed the bat into the forest.

  Another forest… Caleb was reminded of his own woodland memory. Now I’m really beginning to wonder how much of this world is decided by who we are.

  “Always guard your shoes on holiday,” Oliver’s mother had always told him. “or the snakes and scorpions will find a new home. And your toes will be dinner.”

  Oliver kept this lesson at the forefront of his mind as he tiptoed through the underbrush of Oaxaca. The thin but tall pine trees were nothing like the thick, squat trees of home.

  It felt right to put his own life in the hands of the cute little bat. Oliver wasn’t sure, but he could sense that the snub-nosed little buddy was a kid around his own age. He bounced from tree to tree, making sure he always kept a healthy and consistent distance away from Oliver. Close enough that Oliver was always following. Pursuing. Being led.

  Oliver’s mother didn’t let him keep a pet. “You’re too much trouble as it is,” she said, in between sips of wine. He just thought a hamster might be cool.

  Oliver had already given the little bat a name. “Stubbo” seemed to fit him perfectly. Stubbo hopped from tree to tree, encouraging Oliver to pick up some speed.

  It was getting late - the sun was just starting to set. Oliver yawned. Bed beckoned. But how could he sleep when there was an adventure with Stubbo to be had?

  He looked back. Only a sliver of the clean white hotel remained through the trees.

  Oliver stopped at the mouth of the cave. Coppery rust stained the rocky outcrop.

  “I don’t think I should go in there.” Oliver said. Stubbo chirped, beckoning him in with his little wings. Oliver was easy to convince.

  “Is this your house?” Oliver asked. Water dripped from the ceiling of the dank cave, echoing throughout like it was falling onto a switched-on microphone.

  Stubbo was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey?” Oliver shouted into the darkness. “Are you still here?” Silence. “I’m going to go back to my holiday now. Thanks for the visit.”

  The back cave wall twitched, then shook. Not stone. Not wet. Not dripping. The wall of bats exploded into life, shooting towards the exit and into the night sky.

  Oliver shrieked and hit the deck as the bats thundered ahead. He tried to keep his arms and legs covered, cautionary tales of ebola and rabies bubbling to the front of his mind. They swept past on a wave of stinking humidity, and then they were gone. Silence again. Oliver peered through his fingers to see the bat flood part like clouds into the night sky. He staggered to his feet and limped home. A trip to the hospital and a round of shots waited.

  Back in the labyrinth, Oliver felt like he needed another trip to the doctor.

  “What’s the matter? You’ve gone pale.” the vampyr cooed, pressing his fangs against the meat of Oliver’s neck. “No matter. You’ll have eternity to chase a tan. Although you might find the opportunities become quite scarce…”

  The vampyr bit down. He drank deeply from Oliver’s neck, draining him like a swimming pool pump.

  No. Caleb thought. No no no. I took his ink ribbon. There’s no coming back from this. Had he passed a Save Room at all?

  Caleb felt Oliver’s death - that sharp pain, followed by the slow ebbing away of his heart…

  Oliver’s eyes snapped open to reveal pure red. A lighting bolt of energy surged through him, even more powerful than Caleb’s liquid.

  But that felt synthetic. This is raw vitality. This is what Belker is trying to recreate. The Progenitor Liquid is just the work of a man. The vampyr is the work of a God.

  Oliver’s chest fell still. The vampyr pulled him upwards, trying to balance him back on two feet.

  “Well done. No longer food.” The vampyr tenderly rubbed Oliver’s back with a wing. “Now you are an equal.”

  The vampyr licked its lips. “We’ll be in touch.”

  The vampyr gestured to the stone wall. It glistened like a starry night’s sky, opening a doorway that led out to a glowing orange sky.

  “Oliver!” Kayleigh rushed towards him in a running hug.

  She smells like strawberries, Caleb thought. Even after everything.

  Oliver squeezed Kayleigh tight. Her warmth imbued him with further strength. She whimpered, and he realized he was holding her too tight.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I’m just relieved you got out.”

  “I’m glad to see you too,” she said, clutching her sore ribs. “I had to barter with a minotaur to get out. How about you?”

  “Uh,” Oliver stammered.

  You have to tell her, Oliver.

  “Same.” he lied, averting his gaze. “Pretty crazy, huh?”

  She scrunched her nose, not quite believing him. “It sure was.”

  There was an awkward silence, punctuated by the distant sound of a screaming crowd from the city below. “I sure hope Caleb and Dave make it.”

  “And Johnson.” Oliver said.

  “Yeah, Johnson too. Although, I don’t really like the idea of heading down there.”

  Oliver stopped staring at Kayleigh’s pale neck, and concentrated on the billowing smoke exploding out from the buildings that made up the city below. It truly seemed like hell on earth.

  And just like that, Caleb was back in the security room.

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