THE MAZE - A Thriller Short Story

THE MAZE

  A THRILLER SHORT STORY

  Bettina Melher

  THE MAZE

  A Thriller Short Story

  Bettina Melher

  Published by Bettina Melher

  Copyright © Bettina Melher 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is strictly coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2015 by Otto Melher

  www.bettinamelher.com

  Fiction – Thriller, Mystery, Suspense

  Please note: The spelling in this book is Australian English

  “Don’t be scared,” he said to me.

  His name was Eric and his blue eyes gleamed with excitement. He was shorter than me, with a slim body and messy hazel brown hair.

  “I know the tunnels like the back of my hand,” he assured me and smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. His English was very good, but I had to concentrate hard to make out every word through his heavy French accent.

  The four of us, Eric, his friend Pierre and my best friend Anna stood by the road, next to a tall brick wall. Eric explained we would have to jump over the wall and make our way down to the abandoned train tracks, which would then lead us to a secret entrance into the catacombs. A vast network of underground tunnels which ran for kilometres, and according to the boys it was a must see before we head back home to Australia.

  “Come on Mel! That’s what we came here for. Live a little,” Anna said and put her arm around me.

  “I don’t know – I really don’t think it’s a good idea. What if we get lost?” I said, knowing that I was the chicken in the group. But to be honest, I was petrified.

  I knew Anna would seek someone out who would take us down there during our European gap year. She was the adventurous one, the crazy and wild one. She wasn't scared of anything or anyone and had been talking about the Paris underworld back when we first planned our trip.

  “Nothing will happen, Melissa – Eric and I have been through these tunnels hundreds of times before. I promise you, we won’t get lost,” Pierre said.

  He was much taller than Eric and had short blonde hair, but he hid it under a faded black cap. He looked at Anna and winked at her. They both liked each other, but she was playing hard to get.

  “And if we do get lost, at least you will die in Paris!” Eric said, and the three of them broke out in laughter.

   I merely managed a smile. God knows I didn’t want to do this. I just wanted to go back to the motel or go for a walk through the city centre again. The normal and safe tourist attractions which didn’t involve potential death in case your flashlight died.

  “Oh, come on ma chérie,” Eric said and took my hand.

  Although he was quite short, I had to admit he was incredibly cute.

  Anna and I met them two days ago, at the Le Pulp nightclub. We had a fun night out; dancing, drinking and being normal, irresponsible eighteen-year-old girls in a foreign country. Even I had a bit too much but lucky for us Eric and Pierre were nice guys, who even shared a taxi with us to ensure we got back to our motel safely. The only problem was they too liked to live on the edge, which now left me being the only responsible and sane person who did not want to see the subterranean tunnels of Paris.

  I knew that I would regret this, but I eventually agreed.

  “Okay, okay… We’ll go. But not today, tomorrow okay?” I said and looked at them hoping they would at least be willing to compromise.

  A thought crossed my mind; maybe I could fake a migraine or a stomach ache tomorrow, so I wouldn't have to go. But I couldn't let Anna go alone either, especially not with two guys we hadn’t know for very long.

  Eric let go of my hand and checked his wristwatch.

  “Melissa is right – it’s getting late. We will go tomorrow before lunch. And make sure you don’t wear those,” he said looking down at my sandals.

  Anna and I agreed we would dress more appropriately tomorrow, closed shoes and at least a jacket. They warned us it was quite cold down there.

  To my relief, we made our way back to the city centre, and the boys promised to meet us at a nearby restaurant for dinner, followed by a night of salsa dancing and tequilas. Little did we know, it would be the last night the four of us would spend together.

  The next morning, Anna and I waited out the front of our Motel. Anna couldn’t stay still for more than a few seconds; she was buzzing with excitement despite her mild hangover. She started doing a few of the salsa moves we had learned last night, holding on to an invisible dance partner and hummed a tune I wasn’t familiar with.

  “Don’t you just love Paris?” she asked and looked at me with sparkling eyes.

  I did enjoy Paris. It was indeed a beautiful city. So much art and culture. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame and according to my travel guide, Anna and I had barely scratched the surface.

  “The city of love…” she said and twirled around herself.

  “You know Pierre kissed me last night,” she said with a huge grin spreading across her face.

  “Really? I knew he had a thing for you. Is he a good kisser?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, amazing. He is a great French kisser,” she said, and we both broke out in laughter.

  Just as we composed ourselves from our little joke, a taxi pulled up in front of us, and Eric leaned out through the door.

  “Ready to go exploring ladies?” he asked us and opened the door.

  Anna and I squeezed into the back of the cab, and Pierre was sitting at the front. He greeted us but dug his head straight back into his backpack, rearranging items for the trip. Flashlights, batteries, an old hand-drawn map that looked like it had been mended with sticky tape a hundred times over, his mobile phone and a bottle of water. I didn't know whether the contents of his backpack were making me feel more at ease or if they were making the situation worse. I kept seeing myself lost in a dark tunnel, alone. I read of a man who went exploring the catacombs on his own and his flashlight died. Apparently when they found his body, he was only a few steps away from the exit, but in the complete darkness and exhausted from days of wandering the tunnels, he died. A shudder went through me, and I tried to push the thought out of my head.

  If you think about it, it will happen… They’ve been to the tunnels hundreds of times before. They have a map and flashlights… It’ll be ok.

  Only it wasn’t going to be ok.

  “Here we are,” Eric said. He explained we had to climb over the wall and walk down the hill on the other side in order to get to the train tracks.

  “Anna, you go first,” Pierre said and helped her get up and over the wall. She made it look very easy and after a few moments, she disappeared behind the wall. Anna yelled back up to us that she was ok, and Pierre quickly hushed her. He looked around the street, but nobody was paying any attention to us.

  “Quick, Melissa – you’re next,” Eric said, and he too lifted me up onto the brick wall. I was grateful for having worn shorts that day as his hand lingered a little too long on my butt cheek than it needed to.

  “I’m good,” I said to him, as I jumped off the wall before I could change my mind. 

  Anna clapped her hands together silently and jumped in one spot, like a small child waiting to see Santa.

  Pierre and Eric both sat on the wall, straddling it.

  “Catch!” Pierre said and threw his backpack down to us. Anna caught it with ease.

  They warned us to be quiet as it was highly illegal to enter the catacombs. We walked quickly down the hill towards the tracks. They led to a dark tunnel, which was supposed to hide the main entrance people use to get below ground.

  “Don’t touch anything and don’t stop to talk to anyone down there, okay?” Pierre said.

  He looked dead serious.

  Anna and I nodded in agreement, and I thought about running back up the hill and back to the safety of the motel. Only, there was no way I could make it up the wall on my own and I knew there was no way we were turning back now.

  “There are a lot of drug addicts down here,” Eric said softly, offering an explanation to Pierre’s warning.

  Eric obviously noticed my increasing panic and white face. He took my hand and walked with me through the dark tunnel. The tracks were almost invisible through the weeds and grass growing through the rocks nearby.

  “Don’t be scared ma chérie,” he said and put his arm around my waist.

  He stopped and gave me a wet kiss on the lips. I didn’t even have a chance to react or kiss him back; it happened so quickly. He pulled his lips away and winked. I just looked back at him dumbfounded.

  “Come on,” he said and took me by the hand again, pulling me behind him as his brisk walk turned to a light jog.

  Anna and Pierre were already ahead of us and had stopped next to the wall.

  “Wait. This is it?” I asked horrified.

  The hole in the wall was no bigger than the size of Pierre’s backpack. How were