THE INDESTRUCTIBLE

ELEVEN

The day of the third test arrives. I wake up at six o'clock sharp, knowing that I have to report to the gymnasium by seven-fifteen.

From the information I got, I found out some of the stuff in the gym has been moved around. The firearms and other weapons have been put in places in the middle of the arena where the judges can watch the candidates put their skills on full display.

Something about that sends a chill down my spine.

I poke at my breakfast, the appetite for the morning meal that I've gained over the past few weeks is nowhere to be seen today. The food that I do eat almost doesn't stay down as I make my way into the elevator at seven o'clock sharp.

Seven fifteen comes sooner than expected. A panel of six judges sits on one side of the gym. When I first step in, all of their heads turn in my direction, six sets of curious eyes falling on me instantly. The sudden attention ramps up my already-fast heartbeat.

"Name?" asks the judge on the far left of the table, the one nearest to where I stand. She raises her eyebrows, one of which has a slit near the end.

For a second, I completely forget my name.

"J-Jaid Broomer," I finally manage to get out. I'm nowhere near loud enough, but I must've been heard because the judge looks down at the document in front of her. I'm guessing it's a roster of some kind. Her eyes skim over it before looking back up at me. "From Maaver?"

"Yes."

"You're from the South, aren't you supposed to say 'yes ma'am'," slurs the judge on the far right. He looks middle-aged. There's an egg stain on his tie, and sitting next to the document in front of him is a flask. This guy's already drinking this early in the morning?

The judge next to him groans and rubs his eyes. He's younger, with fiery red hair and a crazy amount of freckles. "Gowen, it's way too early for this. Can you at least wait until after lunch to drink and piss these kids off?"

"Language, Sadler." warns the judge next to the one on the far right. This woman must be the oldest of the bunch, with white, pinned back hair almost radiant against her ebony skin. She then looks at me. "You may head to the starting ring now, Ms. Broomer," she says, sounding stern but polite. "Tell us when you wish to start. We'll give you a three-second wait, and then the timer will start. Best of luck."

I give her a nod and step into the white circle that's been chalked onto the floor. My heart hammers in my chest as I scan my surroundings. Everything's exactly how it always is, minus loads of people coming in and out.

I recall the strategy I mapped out last night. I haven't actually followed through with it which means I'll have only one chance to perfect it. I've never taken such a risk before.

But there's always a first time for everything.

Go for the rock wall first. Firearms second, archery last. I glance over at the archery section, at the targets. They're flat, like the targets I've practiced on, but these are human-shaped. I haven't seen these before, making my chances of hitting where I aim even lower than before.

Don't freak out, Jaid. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. You just need seventy points to pass.

"I'm ready!" I call out before I can change my mind.

The older woman plucks up a stopwatch and I feel her eyes on me, making me feel so vulnerable, so bare. I can't afford to slip up. I can't afford to fail.

"Three," she starts, her voice perfectly level. "Two."

I turn and plant my eyes on the rock wall.

"One."