I WAKE UP DAMP AND SHIVERING, staring at cold steel and an advertisement for cologne on the bus stop’s wall. My body aches where the thorns tore into my flesh, and my flesh is numb from exposure.
My bus shelter is an island surrounded by streets pooling with winter slush. The rain—far from abating—has turned to sleet. I look at the bridge, but I’m not surprised to see that it’s gone. Instead, a large cocoon rests on the river bank.
The city streets are emptier than an apocalypse. A Metro News lies waterlogged beside a trash can, a tattered shoe braces against the gutter, a squashed Starbucks paper cup swirls on a small stream down the street. I brave the elements long enough to pick the garbage up and throw it in the trash can, thinking it’s what Willow would want.
As I head back to the shelter, thinking to wait out the storm, I see something. The glass on a nearby shop window is fogged over and there, drawn on the cloudy surface, is a happy face. Beneath that, an arrow pointing on.
“W-Willow,” I stutter through chilled lips.
To my frozen ears the rain sounds like hoofs clattering against asphalt. The wind’s heavy breath sounds like an animal’s snort. I can’t see anything but ice and rain, but even if a Minotaur does haunt these streets, the choice now lies between braving the city or hypothermia.
The smiley face gives me the strength to step out into the street.
Rain flogs me with every ragged step I take. The air I breathe is ice, and I exhale clouds of steam. I trudge through the empty streets that Mother Nature seems intent on turning into another river.
I walk for some time. How long? My watch keeps fogging up—and the minutes are blurring together.
I’m cold. So cold. But I’m still shivering, so I’m not dead yet. The world is white and grey around me.
Above me, I see the outline of a glass bridge spanning two buildings. I stumble towards that shelter, thinking to escape the rain—if only for a moment. I’m no warmer underneath it, but I’m granted a small reprieve from the rain that’s now driving straight down.
I’ve followed the street straight as an arrow, but I’ve seen no other sign from Willow. If that even was her sign. Maybe someone else left it. Another ghost. Or the monster.
I angle myself under a corner of the bridge, so that I can watch the sky for any sign of alleviation. I hug my knees to my chest. I rub my arms with pruney hands, attempt to rediscover warmth. Well, I think grimly, this is what I wanted. I’m outside. Sort of. Wish granted.
I look back up at the bridge. The Minotaur looks down at me. I exhale my shock in a cloud of steam, but I’m too cold and weary to do anything more than try and shrink further into the shadows.
I can only see the Minotaur’s outline through the curtain of rain, but there’s no mistaking the humanoid body, nor the horns jutting from its head. I see it for only an instant, before it steps away from the window and out of sight.
This is it. The maze wins. Endless halls. Impassable rivers. Bleeding thorns. Hypothermia. One way or another it’s going to kill me. I may as well sit back and let it happen.
But even as I think that, I see the train approaching.
I hadn’t even noticed the light rail transit tracks that I’d been walking beside, or the crosswalk I now huddled next to. The train passes—white, red, and grey—feeling its way along a series of cables overhead.
And suddenly Willow is there. She stares out from one of the train’s windows. There’s a smile on her lips, though her eyes are sad. She sees me and waves, but I’m too numb and shocked to return the gesture. I see understanding in her eyes.
In what feels like an instant, her window draws level with me and then speeds by, but not before she points at something behind me. I follow her finger and see a door tucked into the side of the building I shelter under, beneath the shadow of the bridge. Then she turns away, as if speaking to someone else, and once again I’m left without a guide.
But, no. Even though I abandoned her, she still found a way to help me. I unfold myself from the wall and move slowly over to where she pointed. The door inside is heavy steel, like a commercial freezer, and it doesn’t seem to open from the inside.
To hell with it. I open the door and walk through. I don’t look back.