Hahaha.
Yeah.
I didn’t believe me either.
Forget the dangers within the gauntlet. Sue was going to fight me tooth and nail when I caught up to her. I wasn’t sure I could reason with her. I would likely have to restrain her. And hope I didn’t get us both killed waiting for the clock to run out.
The Team Hadley march filled the streets as we paraded the three blocks to the gauntlet’s starting point, and the boisterous crowd rivaled Dragon Con in terms of spectators from this vantage.
My friends peeled off to take up their posts, and I watched them go as if I would never see them again.
“Any last words of encouragement?”
“Be smart, be careful, and don’t be afraid to be ruthless.”
Expecting an epic Midas pep talk, I started at hearing Tisdale over my right shoulder.
There was no time to brace before she was on me, squeezing until my ribs groaned a symphony.
The scent of growing things and sprinkle cookies I associated with her filled my head and my heart.
“You’re the best mom anyone could ask for.” I withdrew from her warmth. “I hope you know that.”
“I do my best.” She stepped back to make room for Midas. “That’s all any of us can do.”
The familiar advice grounded me as I planted one last kiss on Midas’s lips before facing the music.
Or, in this case, the Grande Dame.
Aka Clarice Lawson, aka Dame Lawson, aka Linus’s mom, aka my worst nightmare.
I had ignored her involvement whenever I envisioned tonight. I had ignored her during the whole march. I had ignored her until her gaze bored twin holes to either side of my spine. I couldn’t ignore her any longer.
The Grande Dame of the Society for Post-Life Management, the woman who had stripped me of the name Pritchard and would have tossed me in a hole to rot for my crimes, stood before me in a crimson silk pantsuit and a pair of spiked black heels I wouldn’t have tried on my best day. She was tall and slim, and her stark white hair, worn down and in waves, glittered under the bright lights of the small stage where she waited before a microphone.
Between Linus and me, we had done all we could to insulate me from discovery, but the Grande Dame would be Hadley’s biggest test yet. All I could do was pray I passed her inspection.
“There she is,” she said, voice rich and full, “Hadley Whitaker, Atlanta’s apprentice potentate.”
A cheer rose that lifted my spirits, but Sue’s appearance sank me back down to earth.
“You all know why we’re here,” she continued. “The faction heads chose the gauntlet as a means of showcasing the skills Hadley has mastered over the past two years. Most have already made up their minds as to her worthiness, but this is a final chance to sway the opinions of those who might yet be tempted by the competition.”
Here we go.
“You’re in for a treat.” Her throaty laughter rang through the night. “We have not one but two participants in tonight’s gauntlet. Sue Billiard, the former Potentate of Phoenix, has challenged Hadley for the vote.”
A rustle of angry voices swept through the crowd, but those soothed my battered heart.
For many, this would be the first time they laid eyes on Sue. This was her one shot to wow them and win the majority from me, and she knew it. She would leave nothing on the field. Not when she would pay so dearly for the final outcome.
“The rules are simple,” the Grande Dame boomed over the murmurs. “Make it to the end alive.” She let the others soak that in. “Since we have two competitors, I suppose that means first one to the end alive wins.”
From the shadows, Linus stepped up beside her and took possession of the microphone.
As the reigning Potentate of Atlanta, Linus had the floor. She couldn’t do more than huff at him as he took over proceedings.
“The gauntlet is an individual test of merit.” He cut his mother a sharp glance. “Your only competitors are yourselves.”
The speech went downhill from there, as he outlined the rules.
Once in the gauntlet, there were none.
Terrifying, yet easy to remember.
And, as unorthodox as my battle plan was, I was ready. Luckily, there was no rule that forbade one participant from sitting on another until the crowd got bored and the powers that be called the whole thing off.
Peeking over at Sue, I couldn’t get a read on her and returned my attention to Linus.
Ambrose uncoiled, slithered up my body, then tapped his finger on my nose.
Focus, he seemed to be saying. Focus.
The gauntlet wouldn’t stop just because I did, even if I took Sue out of the running with me.
It would keep on coming, hunting us, attacking us, until it forced us out or the trial ended in default.
Each voting faction was permitted six representatives of their species to act as the muscle, the Minotaurs in my maze. Our maze, I corrected myself, with Sue here. The volunteers abided by street rules. Anything goes. Their entire focus was to take us down so hard we couldn’t get back up again.
To ensure a fair fight, the factions brought in teams from outside Atlanta to avoid friendships or alliances getting in the way of the end game.
“Take your positions,” Linus ordered. “Once you hear the gunshot, you must enter the gauntlet.”
As if either of us would back down with the stakes so high.
A fat white starting line that gave me flashbacks to PE classes in high school was the mark.
Tamping down the noise, the fear, the worry, the expectations, I homed in on Ambrose.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I murmured to him as I pulled on my balaclava and gloves. “It’s dinnertime.”
Unfurling
