{Complete}
-Formerly, Searching for Sirens-
Zander Armstrong, Pirate MC prospect, has never felt more betrayed than finding his girlfriend in bed with his best guy friend and fellow future Pirate. Though having said girl leave him for that same frie...
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"Zany!' I desperately cling to my bat as I debate going back to where I came from or keep going forward. "Zander Armstrong, where are you?"
After the first maze worker jumped between Becca's friends and me, I haven't been able to catch up. I keep sinking deeper and deeper into endless bails of hay. Things keep jumping out at me, sending my mind into a panic blur as I run away in terror. Now I feel like I keep walking in circles. There's a zombie bride that I've seen about five times now, but goddamn it, she gets me every time.
Fear sinks into my skin like a cold, bitter winter chill. My chest feels tight, like I can't breathe, as the shadows dance around me. Droned-out screams set my nerves on edge as I stumble along across the damp uneven path. Stray straws of hay grab and tug at me, trying to keep me locked within their nightmare.
A new fear I might not find my way out replaces the terror of this fucking zombie-ridden maze. When I turn a corner and only see more maze. My heart is racing so hard I can hear it beat in my ears.
It's fine. I'm fine. Zane's noticed by now that I'm not with the group and is scouring this maze to find me. He'd never leave me here alone. They aren't going to tear this thing apart and find an Ollie skeleton come November first. I have to keep yelling for him.
"Zane!" The desperation in my voice makes me cringe. I sound like a scared child.
Get a hold of yourself.
The grip on my bat tightens as my hands begin to shake. When it squeaks in protest, I nearly jump out of my skin. I pull out my phone to try and text Zane, but the damn glitchy thing is dead already. I know why Peter dumped it for a new one. It doesn't hold a fucking charge.
Maybe I should stay put? It'll be faster for him to find me. I back up until I hit a corner and slide down the stack. Beneath my boot, the soft dirt squishes under my weight. I need to take a breather and clear my head. Breathe, just breathe.
He'll find me. I tell myself as I bury my face into my bat's back. Tears sting my eyes, though I try to stay strong. I'm a big girl, and big girls don't cry. I keep repeating the line my dad would feed me when I was little. Any time I fell and scraped my knee, it was always, 'You're alright. You're a big girl, and big girls don't cry.'
