Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.

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Rules

Dr. Lillian Stowe, 57
March 20th, 12:07 AKST

She just wished the others would settle down a bit.

Lillian couldn't help a smile as she watched the others bustle about, fiddling with the screens, adjusting the angles and the zoom, making sure everything looked perfect. Mack was concerned with finding the perfect shots for their project, Alvin with making sure as many cameras as possible were up and running. There had been a few glitches, but nothing major. Certainly nothing he couldn't handle.

Nothing to worry about.

All in all, the Games were proceeding even better than she could have hoped. It had barely been three hours since the contestants had landed on the island, and three of them had already been eliminated. She couldn't have wished for a better start to the Games. So why was everyone else suddenly so concerned?

Lillian leaned back in her chair. It was their job, perhaps, to anticipate whatever problems might arise. To plan for every eventuality. But the planning … that was already done. She had been asked to design a perfect arena, and she had done just that. As far as she was concerned, all that remained was to sit back and watch the experiment unfold.

And unfold it would. She had no doubt of that now. Not that she'd ever had much doubt, but she had wondered what would happen if none of the contestants were willing to take the lead and start the fight. But that hadn't been the case. Three contestants so far had proven themselves willing to kill.

There would be more, of course, when it came down to it. It was one thing to take the initiative and start a fight. Once the fight came to them, she had no doubt most of the contestants would be willing to fight. And those who weren't … well, that was their choice. Not a choice she would have made in their place, but a choice, nonetheless – a choice they were free to make. But that didn't free them from the consequences.

The consequences. That was a nice way of putting it. But surely it was clear by now what the consequences were. Having good intentions wouldn't save them from death. From being killed – slaughtered, even – by their fellow contestants, once the majority of them truly realized what was at stake. It was only a matter of time before most of them – even the more timid ones with less formidable powers – were willing to fight for their lives.

Just as anyone – human or mutant – would. But that wasn't the way the audience would see it. The public, unaware that the contestants had been instructed to kill each other, would see only bloodthirsty murderers. Mack would see to that. And that perception would make it easier next time. Easier to justify selecting more contestants. Easier to identify mutants. Once it was clear how dangerous mutants were, their friends and even their families might identify them for the government. Mutants would be even easier to find than before.

But first they had to deal with these ones.

Tariq Qasim, 22

First they had to make sure no one would attack them.

Tariq glanced around at the lake. Whichever contestants had been there before, they appeared to have left. Appeared to. They had no way of knowing for sure whether the others were actually gone, or whether they were waiting, silently, for the pair of them to let their guards down. To make a wrong move. One mistake, and it could all be over.

But they couldn't afford to let that stop them from living. That would be even more of a shame. If these were, indeed, to be his last days, then there was no avoiding the fact. They could either hide from every shadow, every hint of movement, or they could set an example. In fact, he wouldn't be particularly worried, if it weren't for Cameron. His own life, he could risk. Cameron's…

Tariq took another step towards the water. Then another. No one appeared – no one and nothing. He nodded to Cameron. "It looks safe."

"Safe," Cameron repeated, as if he still didn't quite believe it. And maybe the boy had a point. There was nowhere in the arena, after all, that was truly safe. But this was about as good a position as they could hope to be in. They had food. They had found water. There didn't appear to be any shelter nearby, but at least they could see in all directions. They would be able to see any of the other contestants coming.

Until it got dark, of course. The sun was already high in the sky. What would happen when it set? Would the other contestants want to rest at night, or would they grow bolder under the cover of darkness? There was no way of knowing. Not yet.

Tariq shook the thought from his head, quickly kneeling down by the side of the lake and drinking his fill. Cameron followed his example. "Whoever was here, I guess they left," the younger boy offered. "If they were going to attack us, you'd think they would have done it by now."

"Probably," Tariq agreed. "We're probably safe for now." He dipped his hands into the water again. It was cold but clean, and he could see a few small fish swimming around by the edge of the lake.

"Maybe we could make a net," Cameron suggested when he saw Tariq eyeing the fish. "Or some sort of fishing line."

Tariq shrugged. "The fish don't look very big."

"There might be bigger ones in the deeper part of the lake," Cameron reasoned. "And it would give us something to do."

Something to do. Tariq couldn't help a smile. Cameron always wanted to be doing something. But maybe keeping active helped him feel safer, and making a net wasn't going to hurt anything. "Let's try it, then," Tariq agreed. "Where's the harm?"

The harm, of course – or, at least, the potential for harm – was in getting too comfortable. Too relaxed. Too convinced of their own safety. The other contestants at the lake had left, of course, but there was no way to know whether or not they planned on coming back – or who else might find the lake. They'd found it fairly easily, after all. They'd had a map, but there was no telling who else might have one, too.

There was no telling who else might find them.

Ben Lyons, 19

There was no telling who else might be looking for water.

Ben nodded to Cassidy as the pair of them approached what appeared to be a lake. The two of them had decided to go ahead, make sure it would be safe for all of them to approach. If it ended up being safe, they would end up looking like the leaders of the group, which could put them at an advantage. If not…

If not, they were pretty well positioned to fend off whatever sort of attack might come. Between the two of them, they could use the water from the lake to douse whoever might want to harm them, then drain the heat from the water. He didn't relish the thought, but it was a pretty good plan if they needed to defend themselves.

If. But it wasn't even really a matter of if they would need to defend themselves. It was only a matter of when. Only a matter of how soon they would be called upon to use their powers to defend the group. When that time came, he just hoped the others would be ready.

Hell, he hoped he would be ready. He was used to competitions. To games. But this was different. He'd always been able to trust his teammates before, because when their football team won, the whole team won. They weren't competing against each other for anything besides stats and bragging rights. Now…

Now, they were competing for the right to live. To survive the Games. And only one of them could win. Sure, he could work with the others for a time, but they all knew that couldn't last forever.

Even Maria had known that. She'd suggested that when they split up, they should do it peacefully. Separate without fighting each other. And, at the time, that had sounded like good advice. He didn't want to hurt any of the others. But the truth was that some of his fiercest competition could come from within their own group. Some of the most impressive abilities were those of the mutants he'd chosen to team up with.

And with good reason. He'd wanted teammates who could help each other. Protect each other. But the disadvantage of that was that, when the time came, it would be that much harder to do what might have to be done. To fight each other for the right to go home.

Home. But that was a long ways away. Even the end of the Games was probably far away. They were still days – maybe even weeks – from even having to think about fighting each other. Chances were, they would split up before then. Or…

Or someone else could kill some of them before then. It was only a matter of time before they would be forced to fight, and it was naive to think that all five of them would make it out of a fight against a powerful opponent without a scratch. Chances were, it wouldn't come down to the five of them having to fight each other, because not that many of them would be left.

Ben glanced around one more time before signaling to the others. There didn't appear to be anyone else at the lake. If there was, they were hiding well, and if they were going to attack … well, they probably would have done it already. Certainly they would want to do it while they had two opponents rather than five. Chances were, no one was even there. And now that they had found the lake, any other contestants approaching would be worried about them attacking, rather than the other way around.

They were in about as good a position as they could hope for.

Ky Snowdon, 18

He was in about as good a position as he could hope for.

Ky finally sat down, his feet dangling over the cliff as he stared out at the ocean. He was still alive. Two or three of the other contestants might be dead – because of him. He'd shown the MAAB he was willing to play their Game – and to play by their rules. And he'd gotten away safely from the other contestants who had landed nearby.

Finally, he swung his backpack off his shoulders and opened it. Inside was a water bottle, another bandanna, and a watch. As long as the watch was accurate, it was a little past noon. Not that knowing that was particularly important, but it was something. Something that felt almost normal.

Almost. Knowing what time it was, after all, didn't erase what he'd done. Didn't change the fact that he'd killed. He was almost certain, of course, that the contestants he'd shot down were dead. They couldn't have survived a fall that far. Not without serious injuries. Injuries that would ensure their deaths under their present conditions. It would probably be better for them if they'd died immediately.

He had no way of knowing, though, whether or not that was the case. No way of knowing how many of the others were dead. Or whether he was the only one who had been ready to kill. And maybe that was part of the MAAB's plan. If they didn't know how many of the others were dead, they would have no way of knowing how many were left. Whether there were four contestants remaining or fourteen. Chances were, the survivor wouldn't even know when they were the only one left – not until someone came to get them.

Ky shook his head as he repacked his bag. He was getting ahead of himself. Even if a few of the contestants were dead, it would still be quite a while before only one of them was left. Especially since the contestants were probably spread out all across the island now – an island that had looked fairly large from above.

Not that he'd gotten much of a look. He'd pulled his parachute as late as he'd dared, and while that had given him an advantage at the start, it hadn't given him much of a chance to look around. But he was alive. And that was what mattered.

Slowly, Ky stood up. He had water – enough to last him a little while, at least. He was as far from the other contestants as he could hope to be. As safe as he could ever expect to be in a fight to the death. So his next priority was to find food. There was plenty of moss growing on the rocks nearby, and a bit of shrubbery, but there was no way of knowing whether any of that was edible.

Maybe he would have to find out eventually. But he wasn't that hungry yet. He slung his pack over his shoulder and glanced down at the shore, at the waves lapping far below him. If he could find a way to get down there, maybe he could catch some fish. But the cliff seemed too steep to climb. He would have to find another way down.

Maybe he could find somewhere less steep. Ky glanced around, then started making his way along the edge of the cliff. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was something. It was a goal – a goal that didn't involve killing anyone. And, for now, that was good enough.

But how long would that last?

Victoria Ramirez, 21

How long could she wait before making her next move?

Victoria glanced around as she followed John towards the hill in the distance. Now that they were getting closer, it looked much taller. More like a mountain than a hill. Had they made a mistake when they'd decided to come this way? Maybe. But if that turned out to be a mistake, it would be easy enough to fix. One word to John, and they could simply turn around and go back the way they had come. She didn't need to convince him of anything. Not anymore.

It felt good – being in control again. It had been so easy. Just a little push, and he'd been ready to go after Ryden, or Clara, or whoever else she might choose. And she could do it again. And again. It was always easier the second time. As long as she could persuade him to do her dirty work, she could eliminate the other contestants one by one without taking any real risk herself. And then…

And then what? If it came down to the two of them, then what? Would she kill him? Or perhaps simply tell him to kill himself? It had worked once, after all. She hadn't meant to cause her sister's death. But this … this would be deliberate. So she would have to be sure. Certain that it was what she wanted, and that they were, in fact, the last contestants alive.

Victoria almost laughed at the thought. She was getting ahead of herself. There were obviously more than a few of them left. She doubted there were more than three or four who were dead. Ryden was dead, of course. And probably one or two of the contestants who had been shot down. Other than that…

Other than that, they had no way of knowing. No way of knowing who else was dead – or who else had killed. Who else was playing the Game the way the MAAB had meant for them to play, and who had chosen not to – at least not yet. Eventually, they all would. They would play, or they would die. Most of them would play and die. But one of them … one of them would get to live.

Get to live. As if it was a privilege. A special honor for the MAAB to dole out at will – letting one of them live. Giving one of them the opportunity to … what? To go back to their normal lives? Would there even be such a thing as a normal life after this? What was there for her to go back to?

But maybe it didn't matter. Didn't matter that she didn't have anyone waiting for her back home. Maybe it didn't even matter if she never got to go back home. Life was life. And as long as she was alive, that was better than the alternative.

The alternative. It didn't sound quite so bad, when she thought about it like that. But that didn't erase the memory of John's bear teeth sinking into Ryden's neck. She had caused that. Sure, John was the one who had actually killed him, but he would never have gone after Ryden if it weren't for her instructions. She was responsible for Ryden's death.

She hadn't expected to feel so … disturbed by it. After all, Ryden had decided to stay and fight. And John … maybe it wasn't the fight he would have chosen, but he had certainly proven he was willing to fight. That was the reason she'd wanted to team up with him in the first place. He had already proven he would kill.

And she had no doubt he would kill again.

Penelope – 098, 12

She had no doubt they would kill again.

Penelope shook her head as she and Monet made their way along the cliff. Whoever had shot down Rachel wouldn't hesitate to kill again. And they were probably somewhere nearby. It was only a matter of time before the two of them would have to defend themselves. Unless…

Unless they made the first move. Sure, Monet only had a small pocketknife, but Penelope's abilities were more than enough for the both of them. If they could eliminate one of their deadlier opponents…

Eliminate. That was a nice way of putting it. The way the government would certainly refer to it. They had to eliminate each other. The mutant threat had to be eliminated. The mutant problem had to be taken care of. But no matter how much they might try to sugar-coat it, the end result was the same: there would be twenty-nine dead mutants on the island before the Games were over.

And Monet would have to be among them, if she wanted to live.

But not yet. For now, she was glad to have the company, even if Monet's powers didn't seem to be contributing much. Her own powers hadn't been much use, after all. She certainly hadn't been able to stop Rachel from dying.

Rachel. She knew what the MAAB would want. What they would expect, especially from a trained fighter. They would expect her to go after the contestant who had shot Rachel out of the sky. They expected her to seek revenge. They would expect her to be angry. But even if she knew for sure who it was that had shot down her friend … then what? Whoever it was, they'd only been doing what they had thought was necessary in order to survive. Wouldn't she have done the same thing?

But she hadn't done the same thing. When she'd landed, she could easily have channeled some of the energy from the waves – or maybe even from the impact of the landing – into a burst that would have knocked down several parachutes, as well. She could have done just as much damage. Maybe even more. But she hadn't.

Part of the reason, of course, was obvious. She'd been distracted by Rachel. Too focused on trying to save her friend that the thought of attacking hadn't even crossed her mind. But even if Rachel hadn't been attacked – if the three of them had landed safely, without distraction – would she have even thought about shooting down the other parachutes?

Probably not. Not because she couldn't, but because that wasn't the sort of fighting she'd been trained for. The idea of shooting a helpless opponent without giving them a fighting chance – it was disgusting. It was something they'd never really practiced, because there was no challenge in it. No skill. It would have been easy. Too easy.

Physically, at least. It would have been a simple matter to shoot down a few parachutes. Monet, though … what would they have thought? What would they think, once they inevitably had to fight? Would they be able to handle it? They'd handled Rachel's death as well as could be expected – for the moment, at least – but how long would that last?

How long before it was simply too much?

Taylor Adams, 18

How long could they keep following this river?

Taylor glanced up at the sun, now high overhead in the sky. It had to be past noon by now. They'd already stopped to eat a little of the jerky from Terry's pack, and there was plenty of water, but that would only last so long. Once they ran out of food…

Then they would find some more. It was as simple as that. The MAAB wouldn't have chosen this island for their Games if there wouldn't be enough food to last them a while. They wanted them to kill each other, after all, not die of starvation. It was only a matter of time before they found something edible.

Taylor glanced down at the stream they were following. So far, she hadn't seen any signs of food in there. There didn't appear to be any fish – or any other animals, for that matter. Maybe they were simply frightening all the animals away. They couldn't be very accustomed to human company – at least, not until the MAAB had decided to use the island.

And, even then, how much preparation had they really done? They'd probably placed cameras around the island, but as far as creating an environment that would isolate the contestants from any hope of escape … well, an island certainly seemed like a natural choice. If Alvin had been telling the truth about the nearest land being a hundred miles away, then surely no one would be stupid enough to try to escape.

She certainly wasn't going to be the one to try it. She could swim, yes, but not that far. And Terry – he didn't seem interested in escaping, either. He knew it was pointless. Most of the others would realize the same thing: the best use of their energy was in trying to stay alive. Or…

Or in making sure that others didn't. Taylor glanced around as she and Terry neared a bend in the stream. There didn't seem to be anyone else nearby, but there was no harm in being cautious. There were only two of them, after all. Some of the other groups that had formed were much larger.

There were disadvantages to that, too, of course. Larger groups would find hiding more difficult, and, if they found food, would have more people to share it among. As it was, if she or Terry found something, they would only have to split it between the two of them.

Taylor shifted her backpack uncomfortably. First, they would have to find something. Their food would last them a little while, but not forever. Not long enough to keep them alive for the rest of the Games. Eventually, they would have to risk trying something else.

Suddenly, Terry knelt down by the stream, glancing up ahead. "What is it?" Taylor whispered.

Terry shook his head. "I think I hear something. Get down."

Get down. As if that was really going to do them any good out in the open. Taylor shook her head. "If someone's coming—"

"Or maybe something," Terry pointed out. "We don't know what sort of animals there might be on the island. If it's something dangerous—"

"Then what good is hiding going to do?" Taylor shrugged. It wasn't as if there was any sort of cover. They were out in the open, whether they were standing up or lying down. "What are you suggesting we hide under?"

Terry hesitated, then glanced at her pack. "I have an idea."

Verona Diaz-Kamden, 13

"Any idea where your friend is leading us?"

Verona glanced over at Jayden as they followed the fox along a small stream. Jayden seemed perfectly content to follow the animal. Maybe she thought it would lead them to some source of food. Maybe she was just happy to have something to follow. Some sense of direction. Ever since they'd left the lake, it seemed as though they didn't really have any sense of what they might be looking for – only what they were running from.

But they couldn't keep running forever – especially since they didn't even know who might be following them. If anyone was following them. Whoever had found the lake, they had probably decided to stay there. That was what she would have done, if…

If the other contestants hadn't come looking for it. Or if she'd thought that she, Austin, and Jayden would be able to defend their position at the lake. But Jayden was right; it wasn't worth fighting over.

Eventually, though, something would have to be worth fighting over. They couldn't keep running from the other contestants forever. Verona pulled her jacket tighter as the wind picked up. The fox's head perked up. "She smells something," Jayden whispered.

Austin took a step closer. "Something good or something bad? Food or…?" He didn't finish the sentence. Were there other contestants nearby?

"Stay here," Jayden whispered. "She's going to go find out."

Verona nodded a little as the fox padded off. It was certainly useful having a scout. She just hoped the fox wouldn't get hurt. That didn't seem particularly likely; the other contestants had no reason to hurt a fox. Unless they thought they might be able to eat her. Or unless they figured out that she was working with Jayden.

Most of the others probably knew, after all, that Jayden could communicate with animals. She'd given that away during training. Verona had revealed her own power, of course – the very first day. Austin was probably the only one of their group whose powers might come as a surprise to the other contestants.

It seemed like ages before the fox finally returned, her head bobbing up and down amid the shrubbery. Jayden knelt down, stroking the fox's fur before explaining. "There's a parachute up ahead – she says she smelled two people underneath it. Trying to hide, I guess. We should find some other direction."

Austin nodded. "All right, then. Another direction it is."

Verona reluctantly nodded her agreement. The decision made sense, of course. No need to rush into a confrontation when they could avoid one, instead. But how long could they keep doing this? They'd run to avoid the contestants at the lake. Now they were changing course to avoid … who? They didn't even have any way of knowing.

And it didn't seem to bother either of the others. In fact, Austin and Jayden seemed a bit happier as they headed off to their right, avoiding the contestants ahead of them. Did they really think they were going to be able to do this forever? Eventually…

Eventually, they wouldn't have a choice. Maybe they would be caught between one group of contestants and another. Or maybe another group would sneak up on them. Whatever happened, they wouldn't be able to avoid a fight forever.

It was only a matter of time.

Rosalind Hennrikus, 14

It was only a matter of time before they would have to find more food.

Rosalind took a step closer to Hadley. "Maybe we should get moving again. Follow the river. See if it leads us to … something."

Hadley barely seemed to hear her. He rolled over a little on the mossy ground, and the rocks rippled for a moment before solidifying again. "Something?"

Rosalind smiled a little. He looked so content, she almost hated to suggest leaving. But although the stream they'd found would provide them with plenty of water, cookies and granola bars would only last so long. "Maybe some fish," Rosalind suggested. "If the stream leads to the ocean, or to some sort of lake, maybe there'll be fish there. Or maybe there'll be some animals along the way – something we can catch."

Hadley nodded a little. "Right. Good idea."

Rosalind shook her head. From what Hadley had said, he'd been living on the streets before the Sentinels had found him. But how had he managed on his own, if he had to be reminded that finding food might be a good idea? She wasn't used to having to be the grown-up. But maybe his powers had been enough to keep him safe.

Until now. On the streets, he'd probably been the only mutant some people had encountered. They'd probably had the sense to avoid him once they figured out what he could do. Now … that sort of thing wouldn't work here. If anything, his abilities made him more of a target. Someone the others would want to take out as quickly as possible.

But they still needed food. And the fact remained that he would probably be able to defend himself against pretty much anyone else in the arena. All she had to do was stay close to him.

"Do you like fish?" The question caught her off-guard. She'd suggested they might find some fish, so maybe it was a natural thing to ask. But, right now, did it really matter whether or not she liked them? Food was food. They weren't exactly in a position to be picky.

Still, she nodded. "Yeah. My mom and dad used to take me fishing by Lake Superior, before…" Before all of this. Before the Sentinels. Before the Games. Strange, how quickly she'd adjusted to talking – even thinking – about her family in the past tense.

Hadley nodded. "That sounds like fun."

Fun. It did sound like fun. It sounded almost … normal. Almost as if they were two friends headed out to the shore to go fishing together, rather than two contestants trapped in a fight to the death. "Maybe we should try to find something we can use as a fishing line," she suggested.

Hadley shook his head. "I don't think we'll need to."

"Why not?"

Hadley grinned. "Just wait and see."

Juliska Szekeres, 19

"Well, so much for needing to build a fishing net."

Juliska grinned as Cassidy and Isadore lifted another layer of water out of the lake. Ben drained the heat from it, trapping the fish in the ice. As Cassidy and Isadore positioned the fish over dry land, Juliska directed a thin slice of flame, melting the ice around each of the fish until they dropped, flopping, onto the rocks below, where she and Ben collected them while the other two returned the water to the lake. Natasha was supposed to be keeping watch, but no one seemed particularly concerned that she was watching them, instead, grinning and clapping along like a schoolchild.

And maybe it didn't matter. It wasn't as if anyone would really be stupid enough to attack the five of them. It was obvious that they outnumbered pretty much any other group in the arena. And they were giving a pretty impressive demonstration of what their powers were. Anyone who wanted to attack them would have to be reckless or overly confident in their own abilities. Or both.

Still, it couldn't hurt to be careful – especially now that the sun was starting to sink a little lower in the sky. It wasn't too late yet – maybe three or four in the afternoon. But there was no telling how soon it might get dark here. And once it did…

Juliska shook her head. "I think that's enough fish. Natasha, come over here. Someone else can keep watch for a little while. Think you can make those fish fly while—"

"Levitate."

"Whatever. Think you can make those fish levitate while I cook them?"

"Of course."

"I'll keep watch," Ben offered, heading for the far side of the lake. But, almost immediately, he returned. "Someone's coming," he hissed.

Juliska scrambled to her feet, and the others quickly did the same. "How far?" Isadore asked.

"I'm not sure," Ben admitted. "I didn't see them, really. But the ground was … shifting."

"Shifting?" Cassidy repeated.

Ben shook his head. "I'm not sure how else to describe it. Maybe whoever it is can control the ground the way you two control water – and they're not exactly being shy about doing it."

"Maybe they just can't control it," Isadore offered. "I know I couldn't at first. Not completely."

"Me, neither," Natasha agreed. "I'd wake up from a nap and – poof! – levitating."

Cassidy nodded. "Okay. So whoever we're dealing with probably doesn't have full control over what they're doing. That could make them dangerous."

Ben crossed his arms. "Or vulnerable."

Cassidy Cruze, 16

"Or vulnerable."

For a moment, Cassidy wasn't sure she'd heard him right. Was he really suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? No one else seemed certain, either. But, finally, Juliska spoke up. "So what's the plan?"

Isadore cocked an eyebrow. "The plan?"

"For our attack."

"You really think that's a good idea?" Natasha asked.

Ben shook his head. "It's what we're here for – sooner or later. If we have a good chance now…"

"But is it a good chance?" Isadore asked. "Do we really want to take on someone without having any real idea of what they can do?"

Juliska shrugged. "Ben said he saw the ground moving."

"Shifting," Natasha corrected.

"Same thing."

"Maybe. What if it's not the ground they're controlling?"

Ben shook his head. "Look, we have to make a choice – and quickly. Either we fight, or…"

"Or what?" Juliska asked. "What's the other option?"

"We leave," Isadore suggested. "Find somewhere else. There's plenty of island."

"But for how long? How long do you think we're going to be able to avoid what we're here to do?" Juliska shook her head. "I think we should fight."

"And I think we should leave," Isadore insisted.

"I think that's a good idea," Natasha agreed. "We don't know exactly what we're facing. Ben?"

Ben hesitated. "You're right. We don't know what we're facing. But, honestly … we might not get a better opportunity than this. We already know the terrain. Whoever's out there, they're coming to us. We'll have the upper hand – and the element of surprise. I think we should fight."

Isadore shook his head. "Cassidy?"

Cassidy glanced around the group. They were all looking at her. No one had said it, but it was clear now: it was a vote, and she had to break the tie. She clenched her fists tightly. She didn't want to fight. She didn't want to kill. But Ben was right. They wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. "I think we should fight."

Ben clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Okay. That's that, then. We fight."

Cassidy nodded. "So what's the plan?"

Ben smiled a little. "How much water do you think you two can hold back?"

Isadore Douglas, 15

He just hoped they could hold back the water long enough.

Isadore took a deep breath. But not too deep. They didn't want to waste all their air. He and Cassidy were pressing the water up to the top of the lake, leaving a pocket of air for the five of them underneath the surface of the water. The air wouldn't last forever, of course. But they wouldn't be hiding forever. Only until their target came along.

Their target. Another contestant – or maybe more than one. Whoever happened to be unfortunate enough to stumble across their trap. He still wasn't comfortable with this. There had to be another way. They didn't have to fight. Not yet.

This wasn't how he'd pictured it at all. He'd thought that maybe some of the other contestants would attack them. He'd never imagined that the rest of his group would want to make the first move. And yet here they were, ready to attack whoever came along. Ready to kill.

"Isadore," Cassidy hissed, shaking him from his thoughts. The water was starting to drip. Isadore clenched his teeth and focused, and the dripping stopped. For now. How long could the two of them really keep this up?

"Are you all right?" Ben whispered.

Cassidy nodded. "Fine."

"Fine," Isadore echoed. But he wasn't fine. And neither was she. She didn't want to do this – no more than he did. But she had voted to stay. To fight. Why? Did she really think there was no other choice? Was she trying to impress the others? To impress the MAAB, maybe?

To impress Ben?

Stop it. He had more than enough to worry about without getting suspicious of the others in his group. Their whole plan depended on all of them. If he couldn't trust them…

Then they were dead. It was as simple as that. One mistake – from any of them – and they might all die. They might all die, anyway, of course, if they underestimated their opponent. If whoever was coming had a trick up their sleeve. But there was no way of knowing. Not yet. And that was the worst part. Waiting.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to wait long.

Reese Delaney, 22

He just hoped they wouldn't have to wait long.

Reese held his breath as the girl approached the lake. They'd barely arrived and begun to drink their fill when Simon had warned them that someone was coming. He could only see one girl, which explained why Simon hadn't been able to hear her sooner. He couldn't hear her talking because … well, because there was no one for her to talk to. So he hadn't heard her until she was close enough for him to hear her footsteps. By that time, they could see her.

So far, though, she'd given no indication that she had seen them. The three of them were crouched behind a bush on the other side of the lake. It had seemed like a better idea than running, especially if she didn't want a fight. If she just wanted water, hopefully she'd have the sense to just drink some water and leave. No harm, no foul.

But if she didn't…

If she didn't, maybe they could sneak away. There were three of them, after all. She probably wouldn't want to go after three of them. Probably. They had no way of knowing, after all, what her powers were. But, by the same token, she had no way of knowing that theirs weren't particularly threatening.

Just as she reached the lake, however, another girl appeared. And another – both identical to the first. The second giggled a little, but the third immediately crossed her arms, staring out around the lake, keeping watch as the first girl knelt down to drink.

Reese exchanged a glance with Simon and Rory. This changed everything. The girl probably wasn't going to leave. They had to get away now, before even more of her appeared. Before they were outnumbered. Reese held a finger to his lips, and, as soon as the girl turned to watch the other direction, they began to creep away.

But not quickly enough. The girl turned back suddenly. Maybe she'd heard them. Maybe she'd seen them out of the corner of her eye. Either way, she pointed and called, "Over there!"

The first girl immediately sprang to her feet, and three more duplicates appeared. "Shit," Rory hissed as the girls began to rush in their direction. They hadn't been prepared for this. No one could have been prepared for this.

Rory, who had shrunk a bit to fit behind the bush, was quickly returning to his normal size. But, apparently, his feet couldn't keep up as they started to run. He quickly tripped and fell behind. "Damn it," Reese muttered, turning back while Simon kept running, helping Rory to his feet. "Grow back later," he hissed. "Just run."

But it was too late. The girls were already catching up. Rory fumbled in his pockets for a moment before finding his knife. "Stay back," he warned, pointing it at the girls. "We just want to leave. Just let us leave, and … and I won't hurt you."

Reese just hoped they would listen.

Cyrene Lykovski, 16

They weren't listening.

Cyrene watched, hurrying to catch up, as her clones surrounded the two boys. One of them had a knife. Her clones had … what? None of them were armed. Maybe they could still overpower the boys, if they could all be convinced to fight. But only Rana, her rage-clone, seemed interested in that. The others were just following her orders.

The others. She'd never managed to summon so many of them at once. Tira and Luna she recognized, and her fear-clone. But the others … the others she wasn't sure. But she could figure that out later. Right now, she had to—

What? Convince them to stop? That was what she wanted to do, but would it work? Should she even try? After all, this was what they were here for – to fight. Maybe it was as good a time as any to find out if they were up to the task. She could always call them off if things started to go wrong. If the boys' powers proved to be too much.

But that didn't seem likely. If their powers were anything particularly impressive, why would the boy be threatening them with a pocketknife? Sure enough, as Rana stepped closer, the boy began to back away a little. Then a little more.

But he wasn't watching where he was going. He backed right into her fear clone, who, though unhurt, gave a yelp. That was enough for Rana to spring into action. She lunged, catching the boy off-guard and yanking the knife from his grip. The older boy took a step closer, but two clones barred his way as Rana plunged the knife into the boy's chest.

The boy screamed, clutching his chest as Rana pulled the knife back out. The older boy charged, tackling Rana to the ground. He punched her once. Twice. The third time, the knife slipped from Rana's grasp, and the boy scooped it up. "Rory, shrink!" he called, and the boy grew smaller. Smaller. Small enough for the older boy to pick him up, carrying him off as the other clones rushed to help Rana.

Cyrene knelt by her rage-clone, quickly absorbing her again, followed by the other clones. Breathing hard, Cyrene watched the boys disappear into the distance. Okay. She was okay. Her clones were okay. The boys…

Rana had stabbed one of them. But he wasn't dead. Not yet, at least. But that wasn't her problem. Not now. Right now, she had to get away – in case the boys decided to come back.

She wasn't ready for another fight.

Simon Herrick, 16

They hadn't been ready for a fight.

Simon slowed down as Reese caught up to him, a smaller version of Rory in his arms. "What happened?"

"One of them stabbed him – with his knife," Reese gasped out, laying Rory on the ground. He was bleeding. A lot. Reese's shirt was covered in blood. "The gauze in my pocket," Reese called. "Quickly."

Simon hurriedly sifted through Reese's supplies and pulled at the gauze, but it was already obvious it wasn't going to do much good. They only had one roll – along with the extra pair of socks and the poncho from their packs. Reese quickly wrapped all three around the wound in Rory's chest, but the blood just kept coming, turning the ground red. His breathing was already shallow and gasping, his chest rising and falling erratically. Eventually, even that slowed – and then stopped.

Reese knelt beside him, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have told him to shrink. What if that made him bleed faster? I could probably have carried him. I should have—"

Simon laid a hand on his shoulder. "You did everything you could. More than I did. I just left you two. If I'd stayed…"

"Wouldn't have made a difference," Reese answered quietly. "Neither of us was expecting her to grab the knife. I thought she would let us go. I thought she just wanted to get some water and leave. That's what I would have done."

Simon nodded. "Exactly. That's what you would have done. She wasn't you. And that's not your fault. We can't count on anyone else doing … well, what you would do."

Reese stood up. "She killed him. Just like that. Like he didn't even matter. There was nothing I could do to stop her."

"Reese, it wasn't your fault."

"No. No, it wasn't." He shook his head. "It was hers."

Simon fell silent. He couldn't exactly argue with that. She was the one who had stabbed Rory, after all – or, at least, one of her had. But even blaming her felt … wrong, somehow. She wasn't the one, after all, who had decided to strand them all on an island and tell them to fight to the death. She hadn't written the rules of the Game. She was just playing by them.

Maybe it was time they did the same.

Maria Nanami, 25

It hadn't taken as long as she'd thought.

Maria shook her head as she watched the screen. She had thought it would take longer – days, maybe even weeks – for the killing to start. But, all across the island, the contestants were starting to play the Game. Ben, Cassidy, Isadore, Juliska, and Natasha were lying in wait beneath the lake, waiting for Hadley and Rosalind to walk into their trap, with no way of knowing who, exactly, they'd be facing. Taylor and Terry were still hiding beneath their tarp, long after the fox had returned to Jayden, Austin, and Verona. No one else seemed likely to come across them, but they had no way of knowing that. And Cyrene…

She had killed Rory. Well, technically, one of her clones had, but was there a difference? They were part of her, after all. That made her responsible.

Responsible. As if any of the contestants were truly responsible for their actions. Yes, Cyrene had chosen to kill, but she wasn't the one who had put them in that position. Blaming the contestants … that was pointless. They were only doing what they had to in order to survive. They knew the rules. They were just playing by them.

Well, most of them, at least. Austin, Verona, and Jayden seemed content to stay away from the other contestants for now, as did Tariq and Cameron. Monet and Penelope weren't exactly seeking out a fight, either, and neither were Parker and Clara. And Akil and Piper…

Maria glanced over at Ian, who had asked Alvin to turn his collar off when he had brought their lunch. Alvin had obliged, and Ian was now sleeping soundly, perhaps trying to figure out why Piper hadn't woken up, despite Akil's repeated efforts to wake her. Maybe it had something to do with what had happened to Diana. If they'd been sharing a dream when Diana had died, they had no way of knowing what the results might be, or how long Akil would wait around to find out.

That was the hardest part – waiting. Waiting for their contestants to die, all the while being unable to do a thing to change what was happening. She'd known this would be hard, but not this hard. If she'd known this when Nicholas had asked them to coach…

Then what? She had voted against it. Against going along with the MAAB's plan. If she had known how difficult it would be, would she have tried harder to convince the others? Would she have refused to coach, even after their vote?

No. No, she knew the answer to the last question. She would have gone along with Ian and Vincent. Because as hard as it was knowing that most, if not all, of her contestants were going to die, the thought of letting Ian and Vincent go through this alone – that was worse. They were all each other had now – the three of them. They couldn't afford to let go of that.

No matter what.

"Still fighting the good fight? From here it doesn't look like they're playing by your rules. Maybe it's time we play by theirs!"