The Maze

Each question brought back the sickening feeling he’d gotten just after Leah Bainbridge’s vital signs went flat line. And the last thing Alex needed right now was to focus on that. He could blame Leah all he wanted, but the fact remained that he had lived his life as he’d seen fit, and now the time had come to pay the piper. And pay he would. He knew when he entered the elite council that the price he was going to pay for the extravagant lifestyle of an Azrael Council member would be his very life. Any choice he might have had in the matter had been relinquished up front.

For ten years he had lived the good life, sipping champagne with some of the most influential people in America. But payment had come due, and it would be made in full this morning.

How much were those ten years worth? It was a question he had asked himself over and over, especially as time drew near.

It seemed like only yesterday he had graduated from Cornell at the top of his class and was contemplating whether to go to Boston University or Yale for his doctorate. Then he had gotten the phone call with the offer to join the council. He had jumped at the chance, but who wouldn’t have? The benefits alone were worth millions. There was, of course, one little catch, though the odds of that happening were 50-1 each year. They weren’t ideal odds, but they weren’t bad either. Unfortunately, that 50-1 longshot had come in and the payout was his life. He was being sacrificed. A human sacrifice!

The door, which was directly behind him, opened slowly and quietly, and his heartbeat accelerated. He could see the reflection of a man wearing surgical garb in the glass picture frame that hung on the far wall. Against his will, Alex felt his muscles tense.

In the year since his fate had been sealed, Alex had rediscovered his Catholic faith and found God, though he still had difficulty when it came to Leah Bainbridge. He prayed every day for forgiveness, and hoped the Lord would understand his decisions and how he now regretted them. He read the Bible daily and marked passages to reread. He prayed now for strength and found little. This is how Jesus must have felt as He was carrying his cross knowing He would be put to death, Alex thought as he lay there, and tried to embrace his own cross, fully knowing that it was well deserved.

"Hello, Alex," the man said, as he reached for a lever just below the table. Alex didn’t recognize him, but since there were probably twenty or thirty council members he had never even seen, it didn’t come as a surprise. The man knew Alex though; every detail in Alex’s file, a file Alex wasn’t even aware existed, had been carefully scrutinized by him. In the council, everyone was thoroughly informed about the people they were dealing with, but only about the people they were dealing with.

"How long will all of this take?" Alex asked, not bothering with pleasantries. Hearing his own voice soothed him.

"About twenty minutes," the man answered. In reality it was closer to ten. "My name is Chandler Darrow. That is assuming, of course, that you care to know the name of the man who is about to put you to death."

Twenty minutes sounded to Alex like a relatively short period of time, but he knew that in the hands of a member of the Azrael Council it would feel like an eternity. According to rumor, the pain was unbearable. Of course the source of the rumor was suspect since not even the council members were allowed to view the operation.

"Well, Chandler," Alex said, trying to sound sincere, though he doubted he did, "It’s very considerate of you to tell me your name." Alex had an itch on his right arm that he couldn’t scratch though he was trying. Block it out. Don’t think about it. This was practice for what was ahead. "I’m curious about something else though: how long will it be before I pass out?"

"Come now, Alex, it wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t awake for the entire experience. You won’t pass out until about thirty seconds before you expire. The council wouldn’t have it any other way." This time he spoke the truth.

Alex Fioresi lay absolutely still as fear stopped the breath in his throat and a look of terror flashed in his eyes. He wasn’t going to wake from this nightmare. Was this how it was to be? Was it really his destiny to be a human sacrifice in the ultimate game of death?

Darrow started gathering the instruments he would need for the operation from various drawers of a large silver cabinet nearby. He spread the tools out on a tray and a short time later he was ready.

At first Alex felt nothing more than a little prick on his chest as Darrow inserted a needle just to the left of his right nipple. It stung a bit, but Alex had been expecting worse. He felt his body tense up as the surgeon inserted two IV tubes. The surgeon flipped a switch and the table was tilted back at a sixty-degree angle. He then went to the Ampu-7 machine and turned it on.

"This is an amazing machine, Alex. You wouldn’t believe the improvements they’ve made over the last few years."

"You should have seen Dom Archer. He was the first and almost the last. That was a bad one." He smiled, laughed slightly, and then said, "Really bad." He patted a hand on Alex’s shoulder. "When I hooked him up, the blood started to drain, but the synthetic blood didn’t flow properly to replace it and all of his bodily fluids were sucked out of him." Darrow laughed again at his recollection. "After about thirty seconds he looked like an albino raisin. Funniest damn thing I ever saw. The whole thing lasted about two minutes. Probably the longest two minutes of his life."

Thanks for sharing that little anecdote.