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Again, Samuel’s head appeared atop the boxwoods. He was climbing over another row. Through the gloom, more shadows dipped and rose. Drones. There were drones overhead capturing their every movement on camera.
Maire wanted, with all her might, to grab the branches of the hedge and shake it so hard that Samuel would lose his balance and crash to the ground. The renewed anger she felt toward him surprised her. She thought she had put it all behind her. Not forgotten—she could never forget—but hidden away. Now, flashes from that night years before were all she could see. The mangled car, the splattered blood, the black sky with a million stars, the frozen lake a smooth plate of glass in front of them.
Was the path just to her left, the one that Samuel was now on, the way out? Maire considered climbing over the hedge and joining Samuel on that route. But no. Something made her choose this one. Maire made a left and then a right.
“Give it up, Maire,” Samuel called from over the hedge. “You’ve got a dead end coming up. You can’t win.”
“Over my dead body,” Maire shot back. She took another right.
Maire knew he was lying. There was no dead end up ahead. Instead, there was light. A beautiful, warm light illuminating an opening in the maze where Fern stood next to a table with the lapis-colored urn. From somewhere within the depths of the maze came a loud cry. Someone had been tased. From her left, Samuel suddenly appeared at her side.
Maire started sprinting but Samuel pulled ahead. He had the lead, but Maire knew it wouldn’t last long. She wanted this more. Needed it more. Behind her, she could hear the footfalls of the other contestants. They wanted it too. Maire willed her legs to move faster, her arms to pump harder. She was almost there but so was Samuel.
She dug into her pocket for the Taser. She hadn’t wanted to use it, but there was no other way. She had never used a Taser before, never shot any kind of weapon, but this could be her only chance. Maire couldn’t miss. She stopped running, raised the Taser with shaking hands, and aimed for Samuel’s legs. She didn’t want to hurt him, just slow him down. Holding her breath, Maire squeezed the trigger.
Threadlike leads shot from the Taser, along with a shower of confetti. The leads did not strike Samuel in the legs, but instead, with a crackle of electricity, they hit him squarely between the shoulder blades.
Maire watched in disbelief as Samuel briefly froze, his muscles contracting. He let out an anguished cry, dropped to the ground, and began writhing in the dirt. She thought it was just supposed to give him a little zap, give her a chance to get past him. What had she done? This was much more than a little jolt.
Maire felt a shove from behind and fell to her knees. Looking up, she saw the senator running toward the exit. How did he get past the others? Startled into action, Maire staggered to her feet and started running. The senator had a few yards on her, but Maire was younger, stronger, faster. She tried not to look down at Samuel as she skirted past him. He was still contorting on the ground and Maire pushed down a pang of regret.
She hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, but this is what they signed up for, right?
The senator was just a few feet from the exit. With a guttural cry, Maire launched herself through the maze’s exit and reached for the urn, her fingers grazing its smooth surface. She scooped it up, holding it against her midsection, protecting it like a running back protects a football before tumbling to the ground. Next to her, the senator hit the dirt with a thud, his hands also reaching for the urn, but she held tight. There was no way she was going to let it go. It was hers. She won.
Maire lay on the ground for several moments, trying to catch her breath, keeping her arms tight around the urn. She was vaguely aware of the senator getting slowly to his feet. Every inch of Maire’s body screamed in pain. Her lungs burned, her leg muscles were spasming, and she wondered if she cracked a rib when she landed on the ground atop the urn.
Above her came Fern’s voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, that is how you become one lucky winner! Congratulations, Maire. How are you feeling?”
Wincing, Maire got to her feet, still clutching the urn close just in case someone tried to wrest it away from her. “Good, I feel good,” she managed to say between gasps.
“What did you think when Samuel climbed on top of the hedgerow? Did you think it was all over for you?” Fern asked.
Maire glanced to the right to find a camera in her face. She resisted the urge to shove it aside. Two more camera operators hung back, aiming their lenses on the other contestants. And there were probably dozens of cameras hidden along the maze, catching every single moment of the race. She wondered what Dani and Keely would say when they saw her tase a man. Would they be proud of her or ashamed?
Breathing heavily, Maire looked up at Fern. “When I saw Samuel on top of the hedge, I thought, this is a man who will do anything to win, no matter the cost, so I’m going to have to think fast, run fast, and get there first.”
“And you utilized the Taser,” Fern said. “Did you have any reservations about that?”
Maire did have reservations. Samuel still had not come out of the maze and she was afraid he could be really hurt, but she couldn’t worry about that, not now. “No, I’m a mom with a mission,” Maire said, standing upright, still breathing hard. “And that is going to be tough to beat every single time. I did what I had to do.”
“Well said,” Fern said brightly. “You’ll want to crack open the urn and read the clue where prying eyes can’t see, unless you want to share your clue with one of the other players. Because One Lucky Winner isn’t only about winning physical challenges, it is also about whether or not you create and maintain alliances. How does that saying go—keep your enemies closer?”
Maire looked around at the crestfallen group around her. The senator was breathing as hard as she was, and Ned and Camille had finally emerged from the maze. Ned had a long gash along his cheek, and Camille looked small and frail, enveloped within Maire’s cardigan. Samuel was still missing.
Had she hurt him? Really hurt him? Maire turned and rushed back into the maze. There he was, lying on his stomach, his head buried beneath his arms. “Samuel?” she cried, dropping to her knees. “Are you okay?”
Samuel lowered his arms and turned his face toward her. “Jesus, Maire,” he said weakly, “the least you could have done was warn me. That hurt like a son of a bitch.”
Maire let out a breath of relief and sat back on her heels. She hadn’t killed him. “If I had known the Taser was that powerful, I wouldn’t have used it.”
With a groan, Samuel pushed himself up to a sitting position and sat next to her. He shook his head and gave Maire a half smile. “We both know that’s a lie,” he said.
He was right. She still would have done it all over again. “Need help getting up?” she asked.
“Nah,” Samuel said. “Go on ahead. I’m just going to get my sea legs back and then I’ll come out.”
“You sure?” Maire asked, not feeling right about leaving him behind.
