“Then we’ll turn around.”

She stared up at him, her eyes pleading.“Promise?”

“Promise. I wouldn’t make you go on. Youknow that.” He gazed into her eyes, pleading with her. “I just wantyou to try.”

Brandy did know that. Even in theshort time they’d spent together in this strange labyrinth ofstone, she somehow knew that he would take care of her.Something deep inside her heart knew with certainty that he was notdeceiving her.

She took a deep breath, gathered strengthfrom his touch and his honest eyes and then removed her glasses.She stepped up to the woman’s face and stared at her, terrified ofwhat lay waiting in her throat.

Albert stepped behind her and put his handson her bare hips. “I’m right behind you.”

“You said earlier, before we went into thehate room…why have another room like this when, if you got throughone, you probably knew the secret?”

“Yes I did.”

“Well?”

“I’m right here. I’m not going to letanything hurt you. Be as careful as you can. Watch where you step;watch what you touch. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

She took another deep breath and steppedinto the woman’s mouth.

Chapter 18

Shapes in gray materialized as Brandyentered the fear room. For the first time in her life, she wishedher eyes were actually worse than they were. A single stonestatue stood before her. She could not tell if it was male orfemale, human or otherwise, but its arms were outstretched, almosta cruciform pose. She felt her way around it, gently feeling herway across the floor, her bare toes tracing the unseen path beforeher.

This room was bigger than the others. Shecould feel it. All around her, limbs were reaching toward her. Sheturned right, then left, then right again, slipping around statuesof things she knew would drive her mad if she could see them.

Seeking distraction, she began to singsoftly to herself as she walked, trying to focus on the words toRobert Frost’s poem, “The Road Less Traveled,” that she used tosing in choir when she was in high school.

An aisle spread out before her between thegray forms, and the silhouette of a woman appeared at its end. Thiswoman was on her knees, bent painfully backward. Brandy couldbarely see it, but from her angle the profile of the breasts andchin and upturned face were clear, and she could only imagine whatmight have caused her to take that pose. Something was standing infront of the woman, something big and animal-like, something thatshe could not make out at all, but that scared her nonetheless, asthough the shape reminded her of something, something locked awaydeep in her mind, something forgotten all her life, too terrible toremember.

“How are you doing?” Albert asked.

“Okay. I’m scared. I don’t think this room’sas nice as the last one. It still scares me.”

“That’s because you’re scared of it.”

“No. There’s something else.”

There was a pause from Albert as heconsidered this and then, “Just hang in there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And be careful.”

“I am.”

Every step was painfully cautious, her mindflooded with agonizing certainty that the next would bringunspeakable pain. Beneath her bare feet was cool stone, smooth andhard, and she tried to focus on that, tried to see only the floor,the flat, cold surface that could be her undoing if it shouldsuddenly end, but all around her, hulking figures loomed, figuresthat were almost unseen by her poor eyes, but were therenonetheless, as much in her mind as in the room. She felt Albertsqueeze her hips reassuringly and tried to focus on that, tried tofocus on him, on his companionship, on his friendship, onhis courage, and when she could not, she focused on his sexuality,on the sex room and what they’d done together. She forced herselfto remember how he felt inside her, how they’d attacked each otherand did what could not possibly be called making love even by themost perverse joker. They “fucked.” That’s what they did. The twoof them, no telling how many miles underground, in a room full ofstone pornography, threw away all their modesty and shame andmorals and they fucked each other like animals. She recalled theact—what she could remember of it—and focused on it, though she’dhardly let herself think of it until now. She grew hot, her stomachknotting. She reminded herself that they were still naked and thatshe could have him again if she wanted. He wouldn’t turn her down,not even down here. She reminded herself of this and it made herhotter, more excited. She could have turned around and fucked himagain, as hard and loveless as she did in the sex room, right thereamid the ageless terror of the fear room. She knew she could. Thatsexuality scared her. That excitement terrified her. The effects ofthe sex room were still with her and embracing it was likeembracing a deadly sea snake, its slimy, coiling body writhingagainst her skin, but she embraced it nonetheless. Shegorged herself on it, for the fear of her lust was not asgreat as her fear of the fear. Yet the terror of the fear room wasstill there. The fear still surrounded her. Even unrestrained lustcould not push it back entirely.

She stopped. Before her, amid the dark,shapeless forms, something stood blocking her path, something thatwas a good head shorter than she, but made up for its height inbreadth. She told herself she could see nothing, not a thing, onlyshadows and forms and blurry gray blobs, but she could not take hereyes off it. It was familiar to her, like a forgotten childhoodboogeyman lurking in the closet, peering out at her from thedarkness and grinning hungrily. A memory rushed back to her, amemory buried so deep inside her brain that it could not possiblyhave been her own. A cloudless sky, a burning sun, dunes of sand…She closed her eyes and forced away the image. That memory was nother own. That was the memory of a desert and she had never in herlife been to a desert. But the image persisted. There was somethingin the sand, something hungry and clever and merciless.

“What’s wrong?”

She realized that she was standingmotionless, completely distracted by those creepy thoughts.“Nothing,” she replied. But it wasn’t nothing. She started forwardagain, walking around the stone creature. She did not look at itagain. She kept her eyes aimed firmly forward, yet it was stillthere, tempting her. She could see things in her mind, horriblethings, things (screaming, terrible screaming) that could only befrom her own imagination but somehow weren’t. These things were allreal. She slipped around the statue, turned to avoid another oneand was suddenly in a corner of stone. Blurred faces stared back ather, all of them screaming, some in terror, some in terrible glee,others in complete madness. Panic shot through her like an electricbolt.

“Albert!”

“I’m here.” He could feel her rapidbreathing. He pulled her back against him and felt the hammering ofher heart.

“The path is blocked!”

“It’s okay. Just backtrack a little.”

“I can’t!”

He let go of her hips and slipped his armsaround her, hugging her. “They’re just stone. This room’s just anobstacle. We can get past it.”

Brandy shook her head. “I’m too scared.”

“It’s okay.”

“I can’t.”

He hugged her closer. “You’re braver thanthis. I know you are. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever known. Lookwhat you’ve already done. Don’t let some stupid statues get thebetter of you.” These were big words to speak for someone as scaredas he was. He told her to go on, begged her to get a grip and keepmoving, but his own brain was screaming at him to turn back. Hecould not see the statues at all, and still he was afraid. He couldnot imagine how terrified she must be, seeing all the things shesaw, even with her eyes in her purse and the world a permanentcloud of haze. “I know you’re stronger than that,” he whisperedinto her ear.

Brandy sniffed back the tears that hadformed in her eyes. The terror was intense, but Albert was right.They were just stone, and reason was reason. They could not hurther. “Okay.”