More action now, I hope you enjoy it! The body count will increase like crazy from now on!

"It's twelve o'clock, if somebody didn't know!" Miss Durham's cheerful voice was heard "hey, dearies, you've slowed down! But congrats, girls, you've gained some advantage, for we have three dead, all of them boys: number three, Benjamin Booster; number six, Mark Hawkes; number nine, Thomas Reed. And now, the danger zones: from 1 PM, E7; 3 PM, B12; 5 PM, H5. Good luck!"

Jacob and Josephine looked at each other: so both Fran and Hannah were still alive.

George, having reached the church a short time before, exited cursing loudly. Zone E7, damn it! As if the dead body of one of his friends, Mark, in the company of a few cigarette stubs, blood pools on the floor and a piece of table-tennis racket wasn't enough, it was to be a danger zone very soon!

"Danny!"

"Yes?"

Lindsay was just circling the names on the class roster.

"They said Benny's dead just now."

"And?"

"You've circled him, too. How did you know he's dead? You saw it? Why didn't you tell me?"

Daniel bit his lip, and looked at his shoes.

"No, no…" Lindsay went white.

"It was him. He shot me… he wanted to kill me…"

Lindsay stared frozen at her best friend. After a few minutes of icy silence, she sat beside him and embraced him gently, resting her head on his shoulder. Daniel drew a deep sigh, and buried his face in Lindsay's soft, dark brown hair.

"Hey, hey, I'm not your girlfriend!" she pulled away smiling.

Daniel didn't smile, but felt he was forgiven. Lindsay trusted him completely – and he trusted her, too.

Miss Durham was busy checking the students' profiles on her computer, while on a huge map projected on the wall she could clearly see everyone's position. All around the room, men in black suits worked on other computers, or occasionally listened to students' conversations, thanks to a microphone hidden in each collar. It was impossible to escape, but still, it seemed some sort of pastime.

Suddenly the door opened, and a tall thin man, with light brown hair similar to Miss Durham's, walked in, holding a packet of files.

"Hey there, Ryan!" the teacher greeted her brother "isn't it fun we both became coordinators of The Training?"

Ryan Durham sat beside her smiling.

"Harriet, I just checked the profiles. Quite a strong class."

"Undoubtedly."

"Harriet" asked Ryan, after shortly checking out the positions on the map and looking at certain files "who do you think will win?"

"No bets, Ryan. This isn't a race or a lottery. Chances vary."

"I just wanted your opinion… I think Wallace and Adams are pretty strong, though Wallace… if he stays with his beloved, maybe not."

Nick's position was clearly visible on the map: right beside Mary.

"Hm… you're right, they do have quite a high chance of winning, but I'd still think German will emerge victorious. She might be a girl and have that weak Miller holding her back, but I know her well. Apart from her, Bell is another one I could picture winning. She already showed us her power, you see…"

"German? The flowerbed?" laughed out Ryan, pulling out Girl #8's fact file. Most of the students had second names, and two of them even used their second one in everyday life, namely boy #14 John Nicholas Wallace and girl #5 Lily Lindsay Carter. (The class outcast got to know she was christened Lily Lindsay only when she was about 8, since everyone called her Lindsay. And, of course, once in high school, she hated having to share a name with Miss Goddess Lily Bell.) But the one with the longest and most embarrassing name was undoubtedly girl #8 Rose Violet Poppy Daisy German. Her parents weren't even florists…

"Um, Harriet…" Ryan put down the files "if someone hides, and comes out to win only at the end…"

"Well, that's another strategy. If we take this into account, the winner could also be Beaumont, she changes her places, but often hides away. But neither Vine, Wosley or Carter moved since the beginning."

Both of them looked into the files again.

"Oh, no!" Belinda crossed out zone B11, which completely included the small port.

"We've gotta leave" Darla was still staring at her friend's beautiful tattoo.

"But not immediately. It's only noon."

"Right… see the map, we don't even need to go very far…"

"Darla…" Belinda pointed at the MAC10 hanging on her shoulder "I have this."

Darla had Susan's sickle and Kristen's knife on her belt, and kept her baseball bat beside her too. At least it was more than nothing.

"I… I don't want to kill, Bel!"

"Me neither, but the game is on now. And Jon… I saw him."

"He killed somebody?!"

"No, I think his collar went off. He lay not far from the school…"

Darla took a bit of her bread, then came up with an idea.

"Bel, I think we should try to find Lily."

"Well, she's surely alive, and probably she was at the rocks, at least for a while."

"And then the murderer surprised them. Poor Lily is probably wounded, and looking for us!"

"Poor Lily", meanwhile, after crossing out the names and the danger zones on Benjamin's map, wandered aimlessly around zone A4, on the seaside, wondering about how hungry she was. But bread was too fattening to munch away on it, so she rather drank a little water. She thought about the great nights with the whole Clan Lily, when they watched DVDs, danced, and ate mostly ice! They were snacking on something, but it wasn't fattening like chips or candy.

She sat down, and pulled out the instructions for Benjamin's AK-47. A perfect weapon; on her belt, she still had Peter's Beretta 92. Her body wasn't shaking any more, her guilt began to fade away. Susie was only self-defence, and Pete and Krissie just a dreadful accident. And she had no idea how and where Becky died. About Darla and Belinda, she could try finding them…

Enough. Sitting there wasn't helping. Darla and Belinda weren't likely to randomly show up there, so Lily decided she'd climb the mountain. She knew her friends were probably trying to find a safe spot – and what's better than the top of the mountain?

Half an hour later she rested on the border of zones B4 and C4. At least it seemed a quite spot; she couldn't sleep, but stretching her legs and sitting for a while was enough for her.

"Giorgio…" she whispered, thinking of George Adams, her boyfriend, another person she would have liked to find.

Boy #11 Michael Spencer cried silently. There was nobody in the sports centre (zone E9), so he didn't have to be ashamed, but it didn't matter. The bullet was still in his right shoulder, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Though he could move both his arms, it was no use: looking at his completely ruined, burnt hands, his tears began to fall again. He knew those wounds caused by acid (he realised it must have been that) would never heal completely, as some of his fingers looked nearly like bare bones. Michael, the soccer star, who when on the field, had the number 7 on his shirt, let his aching hands in the water of the pool; luckily the sports centre's door was open, he just had to lean against it to enter. He was hungry and thirsty, but left all of his belongings with his backpack in zone C8. Now, the pool's water seemed dirty, and he couldn't open the spent drink and snack vending machines, either.

Michael Spencer, the soccer star. All the trophies and medals… despite his shy nature, he was a true wonder as the attacker of Jefferson High's team. Once they had won the last match, becoming State Champions, the team captain, Frank, handed him the trophy after he had received it.

"Don't look at me. I might me the captain, but Michael… we have to thank him!"

He had also quite a lot of fangirls, enchanted by his soft black hair and beautiful, innocent light brown eyes. But he wasn't a seductor. He didn't even give out autographs, just blushed and smiled when they came to him.

But all that was over. He couldn't survive with those hands, and was doomed. The soccer legend could be declared gone. His teammates Arnie and Eddie… maybe they could help him, but he had no clue where they were. And… with those hands...

He began weeping again. Broken inside.

He couldn't hear the centre's door opening again, as the pools were quite far from the main entrance. They came only after a hall (the vending machines were there), with doors to the basketball court and soccer field outside, stairs to the first floor fitness room and the spectator seats for the swimming pools; then also changing rooms and showers divided the pools from it.

Boy #4 Gabriel Donaghy didn't wonder too much about why the map didn't mark the sports centre as it did with other "special" buildings, but it was the last of his problems at the moment. After he escaped from the house where he killed Tom (his stomach still didn't feel okay), he went south, and found himself there. He tried his best not to think about Tom, he couldn't risk throwing up again and going completely weak! He looked at the vending machines, and realized the drinks and some snacks wouldn't rot even without cooling. Luckily, their back wasn't too close to the wall, so Gabriel managed to force them open with his still bloody crowbar. After some cookies and a can of Coca-cola, he felt much better, and decided to explore the building a little. He put his bags down in the changing room, and walked to the pools with only his crowbar in hand.

Michael shook in fear. They're gonna kill me!

He didn't stand up, just stared at the door slowly opening. The one who entered was Gabriel; upon seeing Michael, he stopped.

"Don't kill me!" cried Michael, his tears falling freely again, as he held up his useless hands "please, please, don't kill me!"

"What… but… I… I wasn't going to…" Gabriel realized that he wasn't sounding too convincing, wearing bloody clothes and holding a dark red coloured crowbar. He threw it away and ran to Michael.

"Really, I swear, I wasn't going to hurt you! Mike, my God, your hands…! What happened to your hands?!"

"George!" wept Michael "he poured something on them, some acid or whatever! He shot my shoulder too! Gabe… your face…?!"

Gabriel's pretty, almost girly face was red from pepper spray.

"Pepper spray" he answered "it doesn't hurt any more."

"Don't kill me!"

"Really, I won't!" Gabriel placed a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"You're bloody! You've killed!"

"It was self-defence!"

"How could you?!"

"But I'm not gonna hurt you, too!"

A few minutes later, Gabriel helped Michael drink and eat something, as the soccer star couldn't hold anything with his burnt hands. It helped him trust the choir singer a little more, too.

Gabriel took off his bloody shirt, though the orange T-shirt under it was still spattered with red. He went up the stairs to look for something clean to wear, and soon returned to Michael wearing a light sporty shirt with a zipper. At least the blood wasn't so visible any more.

Michael was visibly on the edge of breaking down, weakened to the end.

"You should get some sleep."

Michael shook his head furiously.

"But you look so worn out, and… oh."

Gabriel realized Michael was most likely scared that he would bludgeon him to death while sleeping. It seemed useless to try to convince him of the contrary, so instead he just sat beside him, looking at the pool in silence. Michael fell on his side, but still stared at Gabriel. However, his eyes slowly closed, and, clearly from all the frustration, he finally fell asleep. The other boy watched him smiling.

I'll protect you, Mike.

Obviously, he had no idea what he was going to do with a crowbar and a pepper spray, if somebody showed up with say, a machine gun, but he didn't wonder at all.

George Adams, having left the church, shot out the window of a small house, and went insde to look for food. He found nothing apart from some rotten vegetables, but at least he got hold of a knife, and hung it on his belt.

Then he walked past the school's danger zone, and reached the sports centre at around half past 1 PM.

Cool place.

In a normal setting, he would have run in to lift some weights or practice basketball, but now he just grasped the Colt Single Action Army, and entered with silent steps. He saw nobody, but noticed something weird. One of the vending machines was open at the back, with some packets of cookies and cans of Coke lying on the ground. It seemed clear somebody had been there before, but were they still inside?

I don't care who it is.

George's stare hardened. He had great weapons; he was going to win this game, at any cost. He still felt angry at Michael: he had humiliated him by escaping…

He walked into one of the changing rooms, and noticed two backpacks and a pepper spray on the bench. So the mysterious stranger was still inside… he placed his own backpacks on the ground, and holding the revolver, walked across the showers' room, and in the end, looked through the keyhole of the door leading to the pools.

Michael slept deeply beside the children's pool, in the ending opposite to the entrance. Gabriel walked in circles near the two metres deep adult one.

George recognized the solist immediately from his golden locks. As he turned his back on him, he opened the door and ran inside, knowing he had little time. He pulled the trigger…

Click.

Just a click.

Damn it, six bullets! I forgot to reload it!

George couldn't run back to get the reserve bullets from his backpack. He lifted the Colt up, and hit Gabriel on the side of the head with full force.

"Aah!" blood spilt down the boy's cheek as he fell into the water; the crowbar sank to the bottom of the pool.

George, by then, noticed Michael as well, and grinned evilly.

Aw, do we meet again?

Michael opened his eyes to the splash; at first, in a daze, he hardly realised where he was. He tried to get up, but leaning on his hands caused immense pain. The he remembered everything.

No! The Training! Gabe! What, what is going on?!

"Sur-priiise!" George grasped Michael's thick hair from behind, and lifted his head up. Then he pulled out his knife and slit his throat with one swift movement.

An enormous amount of blood sprayed out of the wound, forming a huge puddle in a few seconds, and soon began to spill into the children's pool.

George slowly walked to the adult pool, with the dripping knife in hand.

Gabriel was floating in the water face down, water turning a little red under him.

It's over.

George, in the changing rooms, put the pepper spray in his pack (he left Gabriel's backpack there too; he saw no sense in diving down for the crowbar either), then took some cookies, chips and drinks before exiting. He could go back there any time, he thought, unless it fell into a danger zone. He definitely needed some sleep now: he broke the window of a house, loaded his gun, and lay on the couch.

But it was not before George exited the changing rooms that Gabriel rose out of the water, panting and gasping for precious air, waiting for the redness in front of his eyes to clear. Leaning on the side of the pool, he tried to regain his breath. Tom's blood began to soak out of his shirt, his head wasn't so hurt, and luckily he didn't faint, either. But he nearly drowned!

George couldn't know that in Mrs. Novak's choir, a soloist needed lungs similar to those of a synchronized swimmer.

Boy #11 Spencer, Michael - eliminated

20 contestants remaining