"Professor DeForest?"
"Afraid he's busy at the moment. But I'll bet I can help you."
"What?" Zinnia whirled around. She stared at the wiry man who was striding toward her across the terrace. There was something familiar about his voice. And about the way he moved.
"Took you long enough to get here," the man said.
Zinnia did not like the swift way he was closing in on her. She assessed the situation quickly and knew at once that there was no way she could get past him if she chose to make a run for the house. He must have sensed her thoughts because he gave her a cruel grin.
"Not like last night, huh? You haven't got that damned matrix to help you this time. How's he doing by the way? Swinging from the chandeliers yet? Or did he try to cut his own throat or take a hike across a busy freeway? We weren't sure how the fog would get him. Kind of an experiment, y'know?"
"You were one of the men in the garage." The one she had hit with the trash-can lid, she realized.
But he was not wearing his mask this time. In the light of the fading sun she could see his haggard angular face very clearly. The fact that he was allowing her to get a good look at him worried her more than anything else. He obviously did not expect her to be in any position to go to the police with a description at some point in the near future.
"Name's Stitch. Pleased to meet you." Stitch's pale eyes glittered with malice. "Look forward to spending a little quality time together before he gets here."
"Who?" Instinctively Zinnia stepped back a pace, past the feathery leaves that guarded the maze entrance. At that moment the terrible garden of carnivorous hybrids seemed preferable to falling into this man's clutches.
"Never mind. You'll find out soon enough. Come on out of there, now. I got a score to settle with you. My head hurt all night on account of that trash-can lid. I'm gonna make sure you do some hurtin', too."
"Stay away from me." Zinnia took another step back.
"You don't want to play in that garden. I hear it's some kind of maze. If you get too far in, you'll get lost. Be dark in another couple of hours. You don't want to be wandering around in there after the sun sets. No telling what you might find."
Zinnia took one last look into Stitch's vicious eyes and made her decision. Nothing in the maze was as nasty as this creep. Thanks to her earlier visit with DeForest, she knew what awaited her in the garden. If she was very careful, she would survive it. She did not even want to think about what Stitch intended to do to her, let alone what the mystery man had planned.
She dropped her purse, whirled, and ran several steps down the nearest green corridor.
"Damn bitch. Come back here."
The leafy canopy overhead thickened rapidly within a few feet of the entrance. By the time she reached the first intersection it had blotted out most of the waning sunlight.
Things sighed and rustled in the foliage around her. It seemed to Zinnia that there was an air of hungry anticipation in the small disturbing noises. Feeding time at the plant zoo.
She kept her hands close to her sides and watched where she put her feet. The important thing was not to touch anything, she told herself. She must not provoke any of the little green monsters.
"I said, come outa there. Aaah. What the hell? Bat-snake shit. I'm bleedin."
Zinnia realized that Stitch had run afoul of one of the plants. She wondered if the experience would cut down on his eagerness to pursue her.
"Goddamned matrix whore. You're going to pay for this."
Stitch's footsteps resumed. He was moving faster, more recklessly now. Zinnia could almost feel the rage that was propelling him forward.
"Shit." Stitch's voice rose. "What is it with these damned plants?"
She edged deeper into the unpleasant maze. Glancing down, she saw that she was not leaving any footprints on the thick, eerie green moss that carpeted the floor of the maze. Stitch was no doubt using the sound of her own retreating footsteps as a guide.
She tried to walk more softly but she soon discovered that it was nearly impossible to move both quickly and stealthily at the same time. At least it was impossible for her. She had a feeling that Nick would know how to do it.
She inched past a row of barbed leaves and caught a glimpse of something that could have been a green tongue.
A slithering sound overhead made her flinch. She peered into the shadows. A thick meaty-looking vine curled down from a matted stretch of leaves. It appeared to sway slowly, as if in response to a light wind.
But there was no wind. Not even a breeze.
The vine swayed closer. There was something almost hypnotic about the way it swung gently across the width of the narrow corridor. It had uncurled to a point about three feet off the ground.
Back and forth. Back and forth. The longer Zinnia watched it, the more harmless it looked. It was just an ordinary vine. She could brush past it easily.
No. She must not touch anything, she reminded herself.
She froze in place, aware of Stitch's approaching footsteps.
"Where are you, you stupid woman? If you go any deeper, you won't be able to find your way out. Then what will you do?"
Slowly Zinnia sank down to the ground and crawled under the questing vine.
The ropy vine descended a few more inches in response to her presence but she managed to scoot beneath it without touching it.
"All right, bitch. You win. I'm not going to follow you any farther. Five hells. Damn this stuff."
Zinnia whirled. He was too close.
Stitch came around a corner, nursing a bleeding arm. He stopped when he saw her standing on the far side of the swaying vine.
"Well, well, well." Stitch's small eyes brightened with malevolent excitement. He started forward more quickly. "There you are. Come on, we're going to get back out of here before we get lost."
"We're already lost, hadn't you noticed? Don't come any closer." Zinnia stepped back. "I'm warning you. Some of these plants are extremely dangerous."
"I'm not afraid of a few thorns." He rubbed a hand on his pants. The motion left a streak of blood on the fabric. "And this'll slice anything in this damn maze to ribbons." He held up the long-bladed knife.
"Don't count on it." Zinnia turned away from him and walked gingerly down another green corridor.
"Damned fucking bitch." Stitch lunged after her.
Zinnia heard a soft deadly swoosh.
Stitch's ear-splitting scream froze the blood in her veins. There was a terrible thrashing in the bushes behind her. The dreadful screaming halted abruptly on a strangled note.
Zinnia swung around, searching for the entrance to the corridor that she had just exited. But all she could see was a wall of green. She knew that she was only a few steps away from Stitch, but she was completely lost and disoriented.
"Stitch?"
There was no answer.
She waited a few more minutes but there was no further sound.
After a while, she turned and walked slowly down another green-walled corridor, DeForest had told her that the maze was designed to funnel anyone who entered it straight to the grotto. If she got that far without running afoul of one of the plants, she could sit on the stone bench and wait for Nick.
She did not doubt for one minute that he would come looking for her.
A few minutes later she stumbled, unscathed, into the clearing that surrounded the grotto. The stone bench was there, just as she had remembered. It would make a cold perch for the night, but at least it was a safe spot to spend the next few hours while she awaited rescue.
She did not see Newton DeForest until she started to sit down.
A scream rose in her throat.
Newton floated face down in the grotto pool, enmeshed in a net of fibrous water plants.