For Rage, page 2
Marcy rolled her eyes, but relief flooded through her as she realized she wasn't alone anymore. "Well, let's get out of here before I get lost again."
The three of them started to walk, but their progress was slow. The hedges seemed to be growing thicker and more tangled the farther they went, and Marcy's ankle made it difficult to keep up with the others. But they kept pushing forward, determined to find the exit. Marcy kept her guard up as they navigated the maze. They turned and a corner, and—
An ear-splitting scream erupted from Kat's throat.
Marcy jumped back, her heart pounding. At first, she thought it was another prank.
"What the hell, Kat?" she yelled, but then she saw it too.
Up ahead, half-buried in the dirt, was the upper torso of a woman, adorned with flowers like some sort of scarecrow. Relief flowed through Marcy.
"Oh my God, Kat, it's just a freaking prop," Marcy said.
But then, as she got closer, her relief was replaced by dread. The woman's eyes were open and glassy. Her skin was pale and waxy. Marcy could feel the bile rising in her throat as she realized what she was seeing—it wasn't a scarecrow at all.
It was a real dead body.
All three girls screamed and ran for their lives.
CHAPTER ONE
Morgan Cross pulled her weight up, feeling her muscles burn as she performed another pull-up—twenty consecutively in a row. It was a habit she'd picked up in prison, back when she'd been wrongfully convicted, but it was one of the good habits. Not like biting her nails, which she'd developed as she'd sat in that cold cell for ten years, anxiously waiting for the day she'd be released.
But that was in the past now. She was free, and she was here—back with the FBI. She'd installed the pull-up bar in her office. It made it feel a bit more like home.
A knock on the wall beyond her door broke her thoughts. Morgan dropped down, sweat pooling at her hairline. She found herself face-to-face with Derik Greene's blue eyes. He lifted a curious brow, and Morgan said, "What?" as she grabbed a towel off her chair and wiped her forehead, then pivoted behind her desk.
"You're looking strong," Derik noted. They'd been partners before Morgan went away, and now, they were back together again. His dark hair was combed to the side, and he had a curious expression on as he stepped deeper into Morgan's office. Even though they’d worked on one case together since she got out, she couldn’t help but still think about ten years ago when they’d shared a kiss. When Derik was still married.
It had been a long time since then, she reminded herself.
Things were different now.
"Something I can help you with, Greene?" she asked him, sitting down with a huff.
He tossed a newspaper on her desk. Morgan inched it closer to her, taking in the front headline:
MAZE KILLER STILL AT LARGE.
And another newspaper.
POLICE AT DEAD END IN MAZE KILLER CASE.
And one more.
MAZE KILLER CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTIM. DANGER TO PUBLIC GROWING!
And—
"Okay, I get it," Morgan said, lifting a hand to stop Derik from throwing another newspaper on her desk. "So, what gives? Are the locals finally gonna get us in to help them?" Generally speaking, the police would not let the FBI do their jobs, only come in if needed or requested. Morgan had heard about this case—this alleged "Maze Killer" who was leaving dead bodies in mazes, with a completely sterile scene, not a speck of DNA.
"Not yet," Derik said, "but it shouldn't be long before we start to poke around, don't you think?"
Morgan stood up. The old her would have been all over this, and maybe it did pique her interest. But things were different now. She'd become jaded in her time in prison, and she’d lost the desire to force herself into situations where she wasn’t requested. It was up to the local PD, after all, if they wanted to come to the FBI for help.
Then again, this wasn't about her. There were real people out there, losing their lives.
Still, they hadn't been called.
Morgan picked up her phone, then shot AD Mueller a text: Maze Killer is getting bad?
When she looked up from her phone, Derik was staring at her. "There," she said, "let's see what Mueller thinks. It's the best we can do for now. You want to grab lunch?"
Derik nodded, and they headed out of the office, the headlines still weighing heavily on Morgan's mind. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of sick person would do something like this. The thought made her stomach churn with disgust, and part of her did hope she'd be given the chance to take a crack at this case. After all, she was just getting her chops back. Her time in prison hadn't made her weaker—it made her stronger. More resolute.
If given the chance, she'd put that bastard right where he belonged.
***
Morgan slid into the booth, the sun streaming in from the windows, even with the dark and stormy rain clouds rolling in. Still, it wasn’t storming yet, and everything seemed bathed in a soft warmth. Derik sat across from her. It had been hard to come out of prison and fall back into her old routine, but she had to admit that Derik had been a welcome addition. They had history, to say the least.
"So, bacon and eggs?" Derik asked, skimming through the laminated menu. Morgan's usual diner order.
But as she was about to grab the menu, the TV above the counter caught her eye. On it was a giant headline: MAZE KILLER. She didn't signal to Derik, just tuned her ears to the people sitting below the TV, watching, as they said:
"I can't believe anyone would go in some maze at a time like this."
Another person chimed in. "I heard that he's been doing this for a while, but no one ever caught on. Now, he's just getting bolder."
A sense of unease washed over her. This wasn't just some run-of-the-mill serial killer. This was someone who was taunting the police, daring them to catch him with his brazen and bold acts. It had to be a statement. And so far, the police had no luck.
Derik seemed to notice the conversation, too, as he lifted an eyebrow at Morgan over his menu. The truth was, the case was starting to get under her skin.
Derik nodded, as if he understood the unspoken message. "Well, if we do get called in, I'm all for taking this guy down."
Morgan quietly agreed.
After their food was delivered, Derik made conversation as he took bites of his cut-up back bacon. Morgan ate her bacon and eggs, trying not to show her inner protective nature over her food that had grown over the past ten years, back from when she was locked up and her portions had been rationed.
"So, how are you settling back into work?" Derik asked.
Morgan paused, fork frozen in midair. She hadn't really thought about it. Work had been a welcome distraction, but it was hard to ignore the fact that she was now back in a world that had moved on without her. "It's been an adjustment. You know how it is." She took a sip of her coffee, letting the warmth spread through her. "But it feels good to be back in the field again. Like I'm doing something important."
Derik nodded, his gaze flickering up to the TV above them. Morgan followed his line of sight, watching as the news anchor spoke somberly about the latest victim of the Maze Killer. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to push it aside.
"Yeah, I can imagine," Derik said. "But hey, for what it's worth, you're doing great, Morgan. You always were one of the best."
Morgan gave a small smile, grateful for the words of encouragement, but they also left a bitter taste on her tongue. She was one of the best, and yet she'd been sent to prison and lost ten precious years of her life, all over something she never did.
Then again, it wasn't Derik's fault. There were a lot of people to blame for what happened to her, but at least he was waiting with a friendly smile after everything. Still, she wished he’d had her back more, that he’d fought more to keep her free. She knew he’d tried to testify to her innocence, but it was out of Derik’s hands too. Morgan knew that.
She had thought about him a lot in prison, wondering if he still thought about her, if his trust in her ever wavered. It was true that people had been divided on Morgan’s guilt; some thought she had assisted a serial killer, Samson—the Seven Signs Killer—in his crimes, but Derik always maintained her innocence.
Still, after many years, it seemed he’d given up on her, too, before she was released. He did visit her in prison, but as far as trying to get her out … that had dulled down.
She couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t his job or responsibility. A lot of what happened to her was on Assistant Director Mueller, if anyone, because he hadn’t believed her even though he was supposed to be on her side. She’d been bumping heads with him since she got out, even though he’d wanted her on the most recent Seven Signs case with Derik. He’d offered her a contract to come back, but after a massive break, in which Deputy Director Irvin had gone over his head and brought Morgan back early.
It had only been a week since then, and Morgan was settling in well enough, even though she felt hostility from Mueller whenever she had to cross him in the hall.
"Thanks, D," Morgan said, realizing she never addressed Derik’s compliment.
They finished their meal and headed back out. As they stepped out into the bright sunlight, Morgan couldn't help but reflect on how much she'd missed. Ten years of her dog, Skunk's, life—that was one of the most painful parts. Skunk was old now, and Morgan had missed most of it. Her father used to show her pictures when he'd visit weekly, before he died, not long before Morgan's release. Morgan’s neighbor, Lora, had returned Skunk to her, claiming Skunk hadn’t been the same since Morgan got back, and he clearly wanted to be with her. Skunk was at home with Morgan now, but the regret still weighed on her. She wished things were different, but they weren't.
They got back to HQ and went inside, but as soon as they reached their office area, the intern, Maggie, ran right up to them with her eyes bulging out.
"Oh, thank God I found you!" she exclaimed.
Morgan lifted a brow. "What is it?"
"I need you two to come with me now," Maggie said. "We got a message from the Maze Killer—and it's addressed to us."
Morgan's stomach dropped, and she exchanged a look with Derik. "To the FBI?" Morgan clarified.
"Yes!" Maggie exclaimed. "Come on, come quick."
Morgan and Derik followed Maggie to a conference room where a team had already assembled, their faces tense as they stared at a laptop screen displaying a message from the Maze Killer. Morgan could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she read the message, her heart racing with excitement and fear.
Hello, Dear FBI,
The police are too incompetent. Think you can do better?
My next victim is out there—you can still save her ...
If you make it in time!
Come to the maze at the governor's estate.
You have less than one hour.
Then, she dies.
Your move, FBI.
Morgan's heart raced as she read the note, processing it, partially feeling like it was a joke.
But it wasn't. It was real.
Morgan felt a chill run down her spine. This was no ordinary killer. This was someone who was proud of their work and wanted to show off. She wondered what kind of sick game the Maze Killer was playing.
"Okay," Morgan said, breaking the silence. "We need to trace this email. Special Agent Greene and I will head to the scene. The rest of you—work on finding out everything you can about the sender."
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, and Morgan made her way to the door with Derik right behind her. As they walked through the hallway, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Ten years of thinking about all the things she couldn't do, and now, she was going to be able to do something that mattered. Something that could save a life.
As they made their way to the governor's estate, Morgan couldn't help but think about the last time she had been in a situation like this. The last time she had received a taunting message from a killer, and how it had almost cost her everything. But this time, things were different. This time, she was prepared. She was ready.
CHAPTER TWO
Rain poured violently over the estate. Morgan arrived at the scene in record time, the flashing lights of police cars blinding as she pulled her car up to the gate. Morgan and Derik jumped out of the vehicle and were instantly drenched—cold rain made the goosebumps on Morgan's arms raise and her clothes stick to her skin, but she pushed on. They were met by a swarm of police officers, all trying to figure out what was going on. A helicopter was parked off to the side, standing by for aerial support.
"Where's the maze?" Morgan demanded at an officer, her voice cold and commanding as she flashed her badge. The sound of the rain was deafening; it was a constant roar in the background, like a symphony playing in reverse.
"This way." The lead officer pointed in the direction of a large hedge maze that had been set up in the backyard of the governor's estate. "Over there," he said.
Morgan looked into the abyss of the maze, then glanced back at Derik. She nodded at him. "You take the sky, I'll lead the ground team in."
Derik nodded. "Good luck." With that, he jogged in the rain toward the helicopter to meet with the team.
Morgan refocused on the officer. She knew she had to stay focused, no matter what they might find in that maze. "I need to speak with whomever is in charge of the operation."
The officer pointed to a figure in a slicker and hat, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the maze. Morgan marched over to him, the rain almost blinding her. She could hear the sound of her footsteps pounding against the soaked grass.
"Special Agent Morgan Cross," she said, introducing herself, "what's the situation?"
The man in charge turned toward her, his face haggard and tired. "We've been searching for the victim for about thirty minutes now, but we haven't found anything. We're moving as quickly as we can."
Thirty minutes. By the time the email had been sent, there had only been an hour left on the clock. Now, it was cut in half. They needed to act fast.
"What's the layout of the maze?" Morgan asked. "Do you have a map?"
The officer nodded, handing over a piece of paper with a crudely drawn map of the maze. Morgan studied it quickly, trying to memorize the twists and turns. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it. This was what she had been trained for. After so many years locked up, she had to admit that it felt good to get her hands dirty again.
Still, her nerves grew. There was always the risk of failure. And she didn't want another body on her conscience.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going in. Special Agent Greene will be handling the aerial search."
The person nodded, and Morgan took off into the maze, her feet splashing through the puddles that had formed. A sense of foreboding washed over her as she ran. The rain made it hard to see, and she could hear the sound of crunching leaves and twigs underfoot. The maze was labyrinthine, with twists and turns that seemed to go on forever.
It was quiet, too quiet, as if the rain had washed away any sound that might have been there before. Above, the rotaries of the helicopter spun as it soared over the maze, a spotlight on the ground, searching for any sign of this alleged victim.
Morgan kept running and searching, but despite her thoroughness, she found nothing. The rain kept pummeling her, and the maze seemed to go on forever. She was cold and exhausted, but she knew she had to keep going. Someone out here needed her—needed to be saved.
She turned a corner and came face-to-face with a wall, her heart racing as she realized she had hit a dead end. She looked at the map again, trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. She retraced her steps, trying to find where she had taken a wrong turn. The helicopter swooped above again.
Time was running out. Morgan's lungs heaved, and the rain kept pouring. The weather caused an assault of memories to flit through her mind. When she was in prison, there were many rainy days that had passed beyond the bars of her cell window. She remembered her bitterness, her resentment, her pointless wishes to be let go, to be seen as innocent.
And yet none of that ever happened. Ten years behind bars can change a person.
Morgan shook her head, clearing the memories away. Ten years was enough. She had to focus on the task at hand; she couldn't let that person out in the maze go unprotected. She kept running, checking every corner and crevice for any sign of life, but she saw nothing.
The seconds ticked away, and Morgan could feel the frustration building up inside her chest. She had to find this person, she had to save them from whatever danger lurked within these walls. She clenched her jaw and started running faster and faster, determined not to fail again.
As she turned a corner, she saw a figure in the distance. It was a person, lying on the ground. Morgan's heart jumped in her chest, and she raced toward the figure, her feet slipping in the mud, her hair whipping in the wind.
But the closer she got, the more apparent it became.
Half-buried in the ground was the upper half of a woman's torso, her red hair matted and bloody. Morgan collapsed in front of the woman. She already knew the truth.
They were too late.
Morgan turned around to see the front of the woman. Her eyes were open and lifeless, her cheeks barely flushed from the life that had only recently flowed through her.
They were too late.
Numb, Morgan took out her phone. Rain drops splashed against the screen as she called Derik. He answered right away.
"Cross—"
"Call it off," Morgan said.
"What?"
"I said call it off, Derik. I found her."
"Is she ..."
Derik trailed off, likely already knowing the answer based off Morgan's silence.
"Okay," Derek conceded. "Let's call it off."
Morgan hung up the phone and sat there for a moment, feeling the rain as it pelted her from above. She felt helpless, like she had failed. This was not the outcome she had hoped for. But it was too late now.
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