“Tyler, Cole, Owen, and Natalie have been taking shifts monitoring the town,” Shauna continued. “About a week ago, Morgath sent a group of orcs out on some kind of mission. They still haven’t come back, so it’s probably something that’s going to take a while.”
Audrey frowned. “Do you know what the mission is about? Where they went?”
“No idea. Could be anything. A supply run, a meeting with another horde… Who knows?”
“And other than that? Any other activity?”
“Nothing significant,” Shauna said. “The horde seems to be going about their normal routines. Hunting, patrolling, doing whatever orcs do when they’re not killing people.”
Audrey didn’t laugh at the joke.
“I talked to Monica,” she said. “I begged her to schedule Doors Open Days more often.”
“What did she say?”
“She was hesitant at first. Said it wasn’t standard procedure, and it would draw attention if she changed things up.” Audrey picked at a loose thread on her blanket. “But I kept pushing, and she eventually gave in.”
“So, there’s another one coming up?”
“Three days from now,” Audrey said. “Monica already sent word to all the hordes in the area, including Morgath’s.”
“Do you think he’ll show up this time?”
Audrey was quiet for a moment, staring at the wall across from the bed. The paint was peeling near the ceiling, and there was a water stain in the corner that she’d been looking at for two weeks now. She knew every inch of this room, every crack and imperfection, and she was so tired of it.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “But I have to hope.”
Shauna’s voice softened through the radio.
“Hang in there, Audrey. It’s only been two weeks.”
“I know.”
“And even if Morgath doesn’t show up, this isn’t the end,” Shauna continued. “If this plan doesn’t work out, just think of your time at the institute as a vacation. Rest. Relax. Take careof yourself. Then when you’re ready, come back to us, and we’ll make a new plan.”
Audrey felt something loosen in her chest.
“Thanks, Shauna.”
“Always. Check in again soon?”
“I will.”
They signed off, and Audrey set the radio aside on the bed. She sat there, just breathing, trying to let Shauna’s words sink in. A vacation. She almost laughed at the idea. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a vacation, or even the last time she’d done something just because she wanted to, and not because it served the mission in some way.
The next three days passed in a blur of restless energy and forced patience.
Audrey spent most of her time in her room, working out because it was the only thing that kept her mind from spinning. She did push-ups in the morning, counting them out until her arms burned. Sit-ups in the afternoon, focusing on the rhythm of the movement, the way her muscles contracted and released. And squats in the evening, her thighs aching by the time she finished. But it was a good ache, productive. The kind that told her she was doing something useful with all the nervous energy building up inside her.
Working out had always been her way of coping, ever since she was a teenager. When her mind wouldn’t stop racing, when the memories threatened to overwhelm her, she could always count on her body to ground her. There was something calming about the discipline of it, the way she could focus on the simple mechanics of movement and let everything else fade away.
She avoided the other tributes as much as possible. She didn’t go to most of the classes, didn’t eat meals in the common dining room, and didn’t make small talk in the hallways. Monicacovered for her and told the other staff that Audrey was dealing with personal matters and needed space. It wasn’t entirely a lie.
At night, Audrey barely slept. She would lie in bed staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the plan over and over. She thought about every possible outcome, every way things could go right, and every way they could go wrong. She thought about what she would do if Morgath the Skullreaper chose her, how she would act, what she would say. She thought about what she would do if he didn’t choose her, if he picked someone else, or if he didn’t show up at all.
The waiting was the hardest part. It was worse than any fight she’d ever been in, worse than the long nights of tracking and surveillance, and worse than the moments before a kill, when her heart pounded and her hands shook. In a fight, at least she could do something. She could act, react, move. Here, all she could do was wait and try not to lose her mind.
Finally, Doors Open Day arrived.
