Aha! A timely update! This chapter is really intended to be more of a continuation of the last one, but I wasn't going to post a 7000 word chapter, so this is what you get. :) To all of you who have been reviewing, and the new readers we have on board: thank you! You guys make this story happen when I'd really rather crawl in bed than stay up writing all night. *Cough* Now, I assume you're all the way to chapter 21 for a reason, so read on.

"We have to keep moving," Coral decides, grim-faced.

"So one of us has to cross the wire without handcuffs," I state flatly. I look down at my own pair of handcuffs, which hang loosely on my wrist. Coral's wrist is also adorned with a pair, so it's pretty easy to see that Roe is the one left without.

I see Roe's lips quiver for a moment before she frowns, stoic. "So let's go," she says harshly. Her eyes blaze, defensive, as if the mere suggestion that she might be afraid is offensive. Her hair is flat around her face and her clothes hang off of her body like loose skin, drenched by the rain, but she looks no less intimidating.

"Wait." Coral shakes her head. "You go in the middle. We'll catch you if you slip." But I know her words are empty. If Roe falls while we're crossing, there's no way we'll be able to catch her. We'll be using both hands to cross. She may get tangled up for a moment if we really try to hold onto her, but there would be no stopping the inevitable.

Roe hesitates. "Ok," she finally says, stepping back from the wire. But then the first slap of lightning flashes above our heads, and Roe jumps, startled. For just a moment everyone is illuminated, and I realize just how dark it has gotten in the arena. Coral's cheeks glow with raindrops and her hair is wild; she still looks more alive than the rest of us with the crackle of lightning behind her. She looks almost like she could bottle the lightning herself if she wanted to. Roe, however, looks even smaller in the light, so soaked that I can imagine her ribs poking out from under emaciated skin. Only her burning eyes suggest that there's someone inside the skeleton.

Then the lightning disappears, leaving only the growl of thunder and the indistinct shapes of the two girls. We pause, drawing heavy breaths. None of us want to step onto that wire and seal what could be our deaths. We all feel urgency heavy on our backs, though, and the crash in the forest behind us reaffirms the need to run. It could be anything, but it does sound distinctly like a body charging through the trees and we all think one thing: Careers.

"Go!" Coral screams hoarsely, and there's a furry of hands as she clips herself onto the wire and jumps. I see her hands slip on the wire, which is slick with rain, and I feel sick as I imagine Roe doing the same thing without the safety net of the handcuffs.

Roe crouches next to the wire for a moment before tentatively sliding on. Her fingers clench and unclench nervously, and I can just see her falling off entirely. It's then that I realize that I could have done something to prevent this. Guilt settles in the pit of my stomach as I hear my pair of handcuffs rattle ominously, but I lock my handcuffs on and let myself drop, officially leaving safety behind on firm ground.

Coral and I sandwich Roe between us, so tight that I can hardly breathe, in the hopes that she won't fall. Water slips down between our bodies, running over Roe's fingers tauntingly. I can feel how slick the wire is, slippery with rain and sweat, so it's understandable when I feel her heartbeat ratchet faster under mine. I don't want to think about what it would be like to be in her situation, only a second away from grasping at empty air instead of the solid wire. One wrong move. That's all it would take.

We all breathe heavily as we begin the cautious trek across empty air; each pant is loaded with the promise that this may be my last breath. I can feel Roe's arms shaking and I'm suddenly, horribly convinced that she's going to fall. It doesn't look like she can hold herself up much longer. I may not like her, but I'm so sick of seeing death. And Roe is not a stranger – I've argued with her too many times to write her off as just another casualty.

"Hurry," Coral calls back, but there's no need to. We all understand the urgency of having the Careers right on our tails. If we don't move faster, they're going to kill us. It's that simple. For once, this has nothing to do with strategy or playing the audience. Life or death hangs on this wire with us, and the outcome will be decided by something as simple as whether or not we can move faster than the people chasing us.

Lighting cracks over our heads again, and Roe shrinks back from the light. As if on cue, the rain starts coming down even harder, so fast that it almost hurts. The scene suddenly seems very dramatic – us dangling here in the middle of a ferocious storm – and it occurs to me that the Gamemakers could be ramping up for our deaths. Now more so than ever, it seems very important to get off of this wire. I have no idea whether or not the Gamemakers can snap the wire from their control booth.

I want to move forward. I strain internally against the desire to shove Roe out of the way so that I can move faster, and it feels so primal that I'm disgusted enough to snap out of it. I'm not going to push anyone, not here, not for anything. Day seems to be the same way, fighting panic. Gogogogogo. She keeps up a steady whimper in the back of mind; a constant reminder of just what is at stake here.

Day, I think before I even know what I'm saying. Day, you don't have to worry. I'm abruptly angry, so furious with what is happening here that I can't think straight. Who are the Gamemakers to do this to us? Who are they to bring a child back from the dead so that she can die all over again? I swear, I'm going to get you out of this. No matter what. I'm taking you home, I growl.Adrenaline and fury sweep me, and maybe I'll regret this promise later, but I mean it. Whatever else happens in the arena, I have to get Day out.

I don't know how I expect her to respond, but I strain to hear whatever it is she has to say. I never get the chance.

Because I'm in the back, it hits me first. The foreign sensation sets my blood on fire and I cry out, releasing the wire so that only my handcuffs hold me up. Whatever it is travels through the handcuffs, though, and sets me on fire all over again. My body jerks, beyond my control, and it's then that I remember the sting from faulty electrical things at home that makes my fingers twitch and spasm for long after I draw my hand away. Something has lit the wire up with electricity and now, with nowhere else to go, it fills me up.

Then Roe screams, and I realize that it's hitting them, too. Instinctually, I haul myself back up and clamp down on Roe's wrist as a precaution. I won't be able to hold her up if she falls, but I'm not going to sit back and watch as she does.

Coral lets out a stream of profanities and then starts shouting for us to move, move! I'm not sure that I can at all. The waves of electricity are immobilizing me aside from the random twitches, and I have to face the fact that I'm trapped here like it's any old snare that people set up in the forests of District 7 to catch stray woodland creatures. I can see the gruesome scene unfolding already; trapped here as we are, we make perfect prey for the Careers.

When the electricity simply disappears with a dramatic zap, I sag in relief and wipe a thin sheen of sweat off of my forehead. Maybe it's too convenient that it's gone this quickly, but I'm more than willing to go along with it. After all, it's more than likely that lightning just struck something connected to this wire. I release Roe's wrist, almost embarrassed, and test out my fingers. They're stiff, as if the electricity has done something to them, but usable.

I think Roe is crying. The liquid dripping off of her chin is most likely rain, but the way her shoulders are shaking betrays to me that she still may be in some pain. I almost want to encourage her: if we can just get off this wire, everything will be ok. She plows on, though, only a little slower than before, and doesn't even let the tumultuous thunder startle her like it would have earlier.

Maybe we can make it. Maybe, even with all of this, we can still-

Then it's back, violently winding through my veins and making bright sunbursts pop in front of my eyes. I groan involuntarily, and I'm surprised to see that my own hands are shaking now. Make it stop, I plead between clenched teeth. Much more of this and there won't be anything left of me to fight with. They're going to fry me completely. Now there's no doubt in my mind that this isn't a freak lightning strike. The Gamemakers really have decided to kill us.

Day screams, the kind of scream that makes you think of death, and I remember my promise. I'm getting y-you off this wire, I tell her, but I half think that I'm trying to convince myself as well.

This time I'm too far gone to help Roe, but I can see that she's still holding her own, swaying in front of me. The line of her jaw is clenched so fiercely that I wonder how she hasn't snapped her teeth in half yet. That's when I admire her the most, but I still don't know if it's going to be enough to get her out alive.

Again it stops, and even though I'm so relieved that I nearly lose my hold on the wire completely, I know where this game is headed. They're trying to give us a little bit of line and then yank us back. I'm sure it's a good show for the folks back home, and ironic to have the lightning not only in the sky but in the wires as well.

They're going to do it again, Day croaks. We have to get off before they do. My head swims violently, but the combined energy of Day's fear and the crackle of tension around me is enough to get me going again. Just a little bit farther. Hand over hand.

When I don't quite make it to the edge before the next attack hits, I'm done. I know vaguely that Day is screaming and crying somewhere else in my head as the Gamemakers torture us again, but it fails to make any impact. In fact, everything is slipping away. I can't feel my hands or much of anything else, and it's getting hard to see. I end up just closing my eyes and waiting, and a wonderful sense of calm steals over me. It seems suddenly right to just hang here and let the Gamemakers do as they will, and I know distinctly that I'm not going to fight it off. In fact, I feel sleepy more than anything. That's ok, though. I can feel myself drifting, off to sleep or whatever else it may be, and I can't bring myself to care.

"Arden!" A muffled voice swims languidly into one ear and lodges somewhere in my mind. "Arden?" The next one's a faint question, like the asker is very far away from me. "You have to move! Now!" For some reason I can't remember what any of those words mean.

"I swear, Arden, I'm not killing myself over here so that you can go to sleep!" This time the voice rings in my ears, an authoritative bark that's loud enough to make my eyes fly open. An indistinct mass of curls and angry green eyes greet me. "Come on, lazy ass, help me!" Coral is tugging on my arm, trying to haul me to the edge of the next platform, which is only about a foot away. I can't help her, though. I feel deadened, completely numb as if I've lost my body entirely.

"Roe, take this!" Coral snaps, grunting and sliding me close enough so that Roe can grab my hand and help yank me up to land. Her grip is frail, and I can almost imagine a bird fluttering in her shaky hands. Coral just grits her teeth and pushes me up, throwing me haphazardly onto the dirt. I'm completely limp, but the sensation of something solid beneath me finally shocks me back into awareness of the situation.

"Don't you ever do that again. You're too big to carry around. You hear?" Coral crouches down and stares at me. Her eyes look too wide, too big for her face.

"Yeah," I choke out before clearing my throat hoarsely. The world spins for a moment and I slump back, spent.

I hear Roe mutter something about wasted time as I cough, still limp on the ground. I know that the Careers are still behind us, but after making it off of that wire I feel like I could survive anything. Besides, I assume that the Careers would have to endure the electricity as well.

Thanks…a bunch, Day pants quietly. I've never felt anything like that before. Her voice quivers, and I feel again the heated anger towards the Capitol for putting her through this.

Roe looks like she's about to come and kick me in the face until I get up, so I haul myself into a sitting position. I hope that's good enough for her, because I'm not sure that I'll be able to move another inch. Every muscle feels stiff, and my head is pounding furiously at just the slight movement. I feel dazed as well, and with every blink my vision blurs for a moment before returning to normal. I clutch the side of my head, willing the dizzy spells away.

It's not helping. In fact, I feel even worse, as if the world is spinning underneath me though I'm not moving at all. That's about when Coral reaches down and yanks me up without warning.

"Can't you feel that?" She asks, looking at me like I'm crazy. I stagger for a moment, abruptly unbalanced. Coral's eyebrows shoot up. "That really screwed you up, huh? Look, the freaking ground is shaking. This whole platform is moving."

I take a better look at the platform as my head clears. That's why the world was spinning – the platform is literally shaking back and forth underneath us. This particular platform is tiny and bare, only a rest stop on the way to one of the four bigger platforms, but I still don't see how it's vibrating like it is. The wires sway with it, catching the moonlight, and I see Roe bite her lip as she watches the wires.

"We can't stay here much longer," Coral states matter-of-factly. "The Careers are coming and this whole platform is going crazy. Listen, what usually happens when the ground starts shaking, huh? Landslides. Cave ins. Things that involve land breaking apart and falling. You'd agree that that's logical, yes? Then what do you think is going to happen to this platform? It's going to completely fall apart."

I don't know if I can move, I think, but of course I don't say that. I just suck it up because that's what I have to do and that's what I've been doing all along. I shrug Coral off and stand as steadily as I can, staring down the wire. I can almost see the lightning edging along the coils, and I realize how easy it would be for the Gamemakers to trigger the electricity on this wire as well. I feel boxed in, pushed from behind and attacked from the front, but everything's happening too fast for me to do anything about it. Careers are in the woods behind me – what else to do but run?

I look behind one final time before hooking a supply bag more securely to my belt and making my way unsteadily to the wire. "I get it," I growl. "So let's move. Now." I see a myriad of emotions cross Roe's face before she finally settles on an annoyed look and follows after me. Coral is first, efficiently swinging down onto the wire, and this time when she's hanging safely, she offers a hand to Roe. Roe looks like she might refuse, but then the platform gives a violent lurch and she takes the help. When they're situated I finally hook myself, and I'm crouching at the edge right as the Career pack appears at the edge of the huge platform we came from.

I try to straighten, defensive, but I can't move while my wrist is locked onto the wire. I feel claustrophobic, unable to decide whether crouching here or hanging from the wire would be a worse situation. I grab my weapon anyway, brandishing the knife in what I hope is a threatening manner. I can't see them very clearly across the distance, but it looks like there are only two of them. The smaller guy and the injured girl stare at us across the void, but their other friend is missing.

"Go! Go!" Coral starts yelling, and I jump just as the platform bucks again. I nearly knock Roe off just trying to get a grip on the wire, but I'm not the only one jostling everyone around. The urgency in the air is driving us all a little wild as we concentrate on simply moving as fast as we can.

"Are they coming?" Coral pants, and I look back for a brief moment. The two Careers are watching the tiny platform dubiously as it shudders.

"No, not yet," I shout back, bracing myself for the sting of electricity that could fall at any second. My blood already feels charged with it, like the lightning has taken up a permanent home in my veins, and I hate it. If we get out of this alive, I'm never touching another one of these wires. The risk is just too great.

Coral is our cheerleader, urging us on with a constant chant of go and various curses. I keep glancing back, too nervous to let the Careers out of my sight. They're still lingering on the edge of the big platform, too unsure to take the plunge onto the wire, which now quivers from the movement of the smaller platform. I can't read their faces from here, but they don't look too concerned. They're not even trying to figure out a way to get across, and that sets me on edge. Are they going to just let us go? As much as I appreciate it, I can't help but wonder why.

"Just…a little…farther," Coral pants. My hands are starting to cramp, but as long as I'm not being electrocuted, I feel like I could do anything.

It feels like a victory when we finally reach the platform. Coral helps to dump Roe and I up onto the soft earth and we all collapse, just breathing hard. Coral starts to giggle quietly, then whispers, "We made it!" Her relief is infectious, and soon all three of us are laughing quietly to ourselves. We're almost giddy with the knowledge that we made it past another obstacle.

Coral lets out a peal of laughter and scoops up handfuls of the damp, loose dirt we're all sitting on. "It's sand! I haven't seen sand since I left District 4." Roe and I look at her blankly. "Come on, guys, never read about it in a textbook or something?" Roe looks acutely uncomfortable, but after looking around the platform it clicks in my brain.

"So this is a desert." The platform we're now on is hilly with wind-swept sand dunes, but that's all I can I can see in the dark, even as bright as the moon is. If my memory serves me correctly, though, there isn't much else in a desert anyway.

"Yeah." Coral frowns for only a second. "Not quite a beach, but I still love this stuff." She rubs some of the wet sand between her fingers. "It's actually kind of different here. Dustier."

"What kind of a hell-hole have you landed us on, Coral?" Roe just sounds weary, not as angry as I thought she might be. She's right, though; how are we ever supposed to set up camp in a place like this, or even defend ourselves? If we run out of the pre-packaged supplies – which are quickly dwindling, despite the multitude of bags – where will we ever find food? I don't mind the heat, but sitting out in the open in this place reminds me too much of a trap.

Coral lapses into silence for a moment, and I think that she may actually regret her split second decision to lead us into the desert. After only a few seconds, though, something wet and hard hits me in the head before crumbling, then Coral is up and dancing around us, whooping in victory. "Score one for me!"

I fish sand out of my hair and stare at it. "Was that…a snowball?" Coral cackles and launches another one at me, which I barely avoid.

"Hey," I challenge, scooping up my own handful of sand. It's dark, but I squint and lob it at her with as much accuracy as I can.

She screams, and I think that I must have hit her. I bend to scoop up another handful, but then sheet lightning branches out across the sky and the full scene is revealed to me.

All I can see for a second is the way that a few pieces of stray hair have caught on her extravagant eyelashes. My eyes narrow in on it, as if it's the only important thing in the world at this moment. It takes me longer to see the way her eyes are wide with pain, the pupils nearly rolled back in her head. It takes me a minute before it registers that she's clutching at her chest, and that something that's not rain is spurting from underneath her hands. I don't realize at first that my "snowball" is lying, harmless, on the ground behind her.

The figure looming behind her blends in with the sand and shadows, but it's easy to see the way his arm jerks upwards, driving the knife deeper with violent efficiency. It's suddenly very clear to me the way that he holds Coral, almost as if he is embracing her. I can see his eyes now, reflecting back the light of numerous crashes of lightning behind us.

It's then that I learn what death is.

He yanks the knife out and Coral falls backwards, almost like she intended to collapse into his arms. That's when he draws her close and ruthlessly stabs, again and again, into her stomach. She screams every time, animal screams that don't sound human. But he just keeps going, as if it's effortless for him to make the fluid motion of flicking his wrist. In, out. In, out.

I make the mistake of looking her in the eyes. She is doubled over in his arms, her neck protruding at a gruesome length as she tries desperately to angle herself away from him. Her face is almost purple in the dim light, and contorted so that all I can see are her lips, drawn back as she screams, and her too-wide eyes. This isn't Coral anymore. It's just death, gruesome and simple.

I say goodbye. I let her go.

And I make the choice to run.

I lock Roe's arm in an iron grip and yank on her so hard that she nearly falls. We turn our backs on Coral as she dies and save ourselves, and the full implications of this betrayal hit home so hard that my throat closes up. She would have saved us. She has saved us. Coral would have done anything for either one of us, but now she's convulsing and screaming in the arms of some stranger as we run.

She's still screaming.

Roe falls into step beside me, but I still won't let go of her arm. We're in silent agreement now, to run despite the price. I can see her wincing, bracing herself, but I don't understand why until a crack even louder than the thunder resounds all around us.

Coral's cannon fires, but I still think that I can hear her screaming.