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“Gio is right,” I added. “We have to try. Everyone, please get your number out. If you don’t have a number yet, go to the scale and get one. I’m sitting in Seat Six, so Seat One must be at the far end of me. Gio, you are number one, so go see if the first chair works for you.”

Gio sat in the chair and slid the paper in. After a moment, his gun lit up. “It worked.”

“Good. Everyone else, seat yourself according to your number.”

“I told you we should have bought the body armor before we got to the castle,” Winston said to Clarissa in an exaggerated whisper as he headed to the scale.

I pretended not to hear.

When everyone had sat down and inserted their papers, I began a countdown. “On the count of three, I’m going to shoot the start button and the game will begin. One, two, three.”

Everyone started blasting, with us easily hitting all the targets, some taking multiple hits. But as we progressed through the game and the pace intensified, we began missing too many targets while hitting many of the same ones.

I swore beneath my breath as the game came to a crescendo and ended with a displayed message on the panel bar.

NO WINNER.

“We didn’t win?” Clarissa said, sounding surprised. “Why? We shot so much stuff.”

“We didn’t hit all the targets,” I pointed out. “Or at least, not enough of them.”

“That’s because we need to coordinate our efforts better,” Gio said. “Like everything else, we need a strategy.”

I nodded, so Gio continued. “How about if Slash and I take two targets apiece, and everyone else be responsible for just one target? Ignore all the other targets, no matter how tempting they are. But when your target shows itself, shoot everything you’ve got at it.”

Gio and I took the top and bottom targets on the sides, as they were the most difficult. We assigned everyone else the remaining targets.

“Is everyone clear which target is yours?” I asked.

The team nodded, so we retrieved our papers that had been ejected from the chair slots and inserted them again.

“Just remember, focus on your target of responsibility and don’t look at anything else,” Gio cautioned us. “Also, the doors seem to open and close to the beat of the music. See if you can anticipate when your door will open by syncing your shots with the music. It might help you with your aim.”

I started the game again, and we began firing. All seemed to be going well until the game, and by extension the music, began playing frantically. The targets came fast and furious, keeping me focused exclusively on my targets. Things were moving so fast I had no idea how everyone else was doing.

Finally, the game ended, and we lowered our guns. I glanced down the row of chairs, noticing everyone looked completely wiped out.

Suddenly Mia leaped from her chair, pointing at the message bar beneath the panel. “Look! We won!”

WINNER—TOTAL SCORE 6370. TAKE YOUR CARD.

A credit card-size piece of plastic popped out of the slot to the right of the display bar.

Mia danced around, high-fiving everyone in the room, completely pumped by the win. “That was more fun than a barrel of orangutans. Who knew I would take so well to shooting?”

“I’m just glad we don’t have to do it again,” Winston said, reholstering his gun. “That was more stressful than a week of cross-examinations in criminal court. Plus, I couldn’t help but notice my wife hit every target. Remind me not to piss you off any time soon, dear.”

“Good plan, sweetheart,” Clarissa said, batting her eyelashes at him.

I couldn’t help but be amused—and maybe a little comforted—by the thought that the in-law who liked me the least was the worst shot.

I glanced at the clock to see how much time we had left. Thirty-seven minutes. I walked over to the panel and retrieved the card that had been spit out near the display panel. Alessa joined me there.

“What does it say?” she asked, looking curiously at the card.

I examined it carefully on both sides. “Nothing as far as I can see.”

“Put it in the ATM. Let’s see what happens.”