going to be incredibly happy that’s the case.”
Laughter echoed in the room.
Angela’s fingers left sweaty smudges on the booklet’s shiny pages as she stared at the numbers and listened to Molly drone on for what seemed like hours about other details, like the fact they’d have from 7:30 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. to complete each day’s stage or face disqualification. A decent chunk of time was also spent discussing the risks and hazards of running in the New Zealand wilderness, and what to do in different types of emergencies. She forced her brain to spend its energy absorbing the minutiae instead of zeroing in on all the ways they could fail.
The eerie calm she’d felt the night before quickly began to fade.
“Each checkpoint will have water, though you will need to carry your own as well, and the overnight camps will have hot water available to make your meals.”
Thank goodness Marc had been on hand to help them pack their final rucksacks. While Angela and Eva had done their best to track down all the necessary equipment, Marc was the one with camping and survivalist experience. He even knew which dried meals tasted best and would be most filling, and what would take up the least amount of space in their heavy backpacks.
Getting everything to fit had been a feat in itself, considering the backpacks contained a sleeping bag, extra clothing, sunscreen, toilet paper, eating utensils, a Swiss army knife, and a few other mandatory items, not to mention optional but nice-to-have items like a towel, camera, thermal underwear, and compression socks. Thankfully, they didn’t have to pack tents, as those would be provided, assigned, and set up by race volunteers.
“Now I’d like to turn it over to our media coordinator, Fatima Anwar.”
A pretty woman wearing a hijab stepped forward and took the offered microphone. “Thanks, Molly. And welcome to you all.” Her British accent was upbeat. “I wanted to quickly review our media coverage of the event, and then we’ll break for lunch. After that, you’ll be bused out to the first campsite, where you can spend the afternoon and evening getting to know one another and preparing for the first leg of the race.”
Was it nearly noon already? Angela checked the black sports watch she’d purchased for the race. Yes, many hours had already flown by since they’d gotten up, eaten breakfast, and checked out of the hotel. Their overnight suitcases would be transferred to a hotel in Wanaka for concluding ceremonies, and they’d brought their rucksacks with them to this meeting. In fact, volunteers were likely checking the bags at this very moment, ensuring participants had every item on the mandatory list and nothing forbidden that would offer a hidden advantage over other competitors.
Not many hours lay between them and the start of the race.
Angela’s booklet creased in her strong and sudden grip.
Eva leaned over. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Angela whispered. “Just ready to get this show on the road.”
Fatima continued. “We will be livestreaming the event, posting hourly updates about race leaders and conditions, et cetera, on our website. Of course, we will also be uploading photos and videos of the event across social media platforms. Lastly . . .” The woman paused, scanning the room as if making sure competitors were still paying attention. “We will have a few reporters from various media outlets at the overnight checkpoints. They might ask you for a quote or a photo. If you’d rather not participate, that is completely fine. Just let them know and they’ll move on to another victim.”
Everyone chuckled.
“The volunteers will all be wearing orange shirts, and our media folks are in green.”
Angela’s eyes trailed along the wall, seeing pops of green here and there—and suddenly her mouth went dry.
Staring right at her, from a spot not too far away along the wall, stood Simon. The lime green of his shirt left no question as to why he was here. But why hadn’t he told her?
A hot buzzing filled her ears, and Angela averted her eyes.
“All right, that’s all I have for you. I believe I’m supposed to dismiss you for lunch, which is provided just next door. We will gather back here at one o’clock to begin the busing process. Thank you.”
People rose all around Angela, some rushing for the door to be first in line for the food, but she remained firmly planted in her seat. It was very warm in here, even with the dissipating bodies. She fanned herself with the booklet.
Next to