A/N: It's a late chapter if you consider how fast I've been updating lately.

I'll update more over the weekend, though. I promise.

But reviews make me write faster (:

Ebony's POV (5)

I'm in the jungle looking for rocks when the fourth cannon goes off. I've collected a branch about the size of the bow I trained with back in the Capitol and am looking for something to make arrows—more good-sized sticks and rocks with a fine enough point. Getting away from the bloodbath, if you could even call it that, had been pretty easy. The careers didn't even look at me—my size could be an asset too, I guess—and were more concerned with the larger tributes.

Water starts to puddle at my feet, and I look around for a larger source but there is none, so I go back to searching for sharp rocks.

"I saw him go this way," a voice says. "He ran when Ariel got Liam…"

I drop my branch in a panic, recognizing Nikole's voice, and look around for a place to hide. If I had made my bow and arrow by now maybe, maybe, I could take them; but I haven't, and so I jump up onto a tree trunk and try to pull and push my way up. But I can hear all their footsteps, and I know I'll never be able to get high enough to stay hidden. Jumping down, I search around. They're coming through the trees. I have to get out of here. I have to—

"Ebony," I hear a hushed voice say. I glance around. "Ebony! Look up!"

Odyss is above me, hanging upside-down off a tall branch off the tree, supported by just his knee pits. His long hair is falling over his eyes and covering his face; I can't tell what he's thinking when he says, "Grab on," and outstretches his hands to me to hold on to.

I don't hesitate. I jump and reach out, grasping onto his hands just in time for him to pull me up onto the same branch he's on as the tributes fully emerge from the trees and look around. He puts a finger to his lips. Like I'm stupid. Like I don't already know to be quiet.

"You let him get away," Ariel says to Alexander, and swears.

"I let him get away?" he snaps. "Please. Out of all the people to blame here—"

"I blame you." Even from up above, I can see the daggers shooting out of Ariel's eyes. "Because it is your fault, Alexander. Now please just shut your mouth."

I'm beginning to wonder if they've just given up on the whole star-crossed lovers thing when Alexander says, "Okay, beautiful," winks, and nudges Keith, who rolls his eyes.

The careers disappear without noticing Odyss and I hanging in the tree above them—which is good, because us two don't stand a chance against the four of them.

Odyss grins at me once they've gone far enough into the jungle so they can't hear us. "So. You sure you don't need any help?

Trawny's POV (11)

"Did you hear that?" I ask Violet, for about the tenth time since we've got into the jungle, in a whisper. We both stop for a second and listen. Nothing. We continue moving.

"Trawny, how many times do I have to tell you? There's nobody here. We all ran in different directions, and I didn't see anyone come the way we went, so I think we're safe. For now, anyways."

But I hear it again. Twigs snapping. And then one falls down from a tree and hits me in the head.

"Violet…" I say, and slowly look up. Just before feet come into contact with my face I let out a scream so high-pitched and loud I think I see Violet cover her ears, and then I'm on the ground with someone lying on top of me.

Violet automatically gets into her warrior-like stance, ready to attack, but the girl who landed on top of me gets up and runs away, her dirty blonde hair flowing like a cape behind her. Neither of us speaks as we both turn to look up in the tree where the girl, who looked like Ryli from District Seven, had fallen from. There's a large broken branch at the top.

"That was weird," Violet says. "Are you okay?"

I touch my face. My hand comes back with blood. My nose is bleeding. But other than that I can't find much more damage, so I wipe some blood away with my shirt—hey, it looks like I actually fought someone—and we continue moving through the forest. Water? Food? I don't know what we're looking for.

But as the hours drag on, I get thirstier and thirstier, and soon exhausted enough to sit down with my back leaning on a tree. Violet sits beside me. I can't hear much in this jungle; maybe something's happening on the other side, and that's why the Gamemakers are choosing not to make any action with the District Elevens. So I cherish this peaceful moment. It could be my last.

Violet looks at me. "Do you hear that?"

"No. What?"

We both listen. Nothing.

So we go back to being silent and leaning against the trunk of trees, until a bunch of birds fly out of the trees and out into the sky—farther and farther away into the distance.

"That's weird," Violet says, again. "Why are they doing that?"

And then we hear it.

I can't tell what exactly, at first, but the ground starts to rumble under us. And I still can't figure anything out when Violet grabs my hand and screams at me to hurry up and run. She practically drags me along the jungle ground, over the pointy tree roots and insects I've never seen before as the rumbling gets louder and louder. I turn my head for a split second, to see if I can take a look at whatever's causing the ground to do that, but I can't. All I can see is, in the distance, trees are falling over.

"What is it?" I yell at Violet, over the noises.

She doesn't reply. She drags me along, both of us breathing heavily. She somehow manages to get over all the bumps in the soil gracefully as I jump and hop and skip and do whatever I can just to stay six feet behind her.

Where we're running; I don't think it matters. I think all Violet's thinking right now is how to get out of this place, away from the reverberating noise. Whatever that is.

And that's when I see them. The trees are clearing faster and I catch a glimpse of the noise.

It's a stampede.

And those elephants are at least thirty-times my size.

Violet and I get to a clearing in the trees, and a large waterfall is on the opposite side of us in a big cavern. The roaring and rumbling is getting really loud, now, and there's no way we could get to the other side before they get to us. Just as the first blur of grey pushes through the trees, Violet yells, "JUMP!" and dives into the big cavern, where mist is layered at the bottom of the ragged rocked walls.

Well, do I have a choice?

I jump.

Bridger's POV (7)

I've been wandering around this desert for hours. Yeah, I'm thirsty, and yeah, I'm hungry. But all the other tributes are now in the jungle—minus four—and I know I can go a little longer without water and food. My mentor told me my sponsors were practically lining up, too, so it's not like I'm gonna die.

The sand is just freaking annoying now. My shirt is over my head, and I'm walking slowly over a sand mount, wondering where the hell I'm going to go. I'd say the Cornucopia, but it's hidden. Freaking Gamemakers.

What are they thinking now, anyways? They have to be planning something. A nice sandstorm for me, maybe, or a lightning bolt that strikes and slowly electrocutes me to death. As I'm thinking of ways they might kill me, I go up to a cactus and poke a part of the green plant where there is no spikes. I use a small rock to dig inside it, and a drop of water drizzles out.

I need something to bash this thing open.

But there's nothing in this desert. If I want a weapon, I'll have to find it in the jungle.

Of course I do. So I flash the most inappropriate finger in the air as I head off in that direction.

Damn the Gamemakers.

Zed's POV (10)

Why did I rescue Victoria?

I don't effing know. She was lying there, in the sand, about to die from being beaten up by Alexander, and I happened to be hiding behind a hill of sand only a few feet away from there, watching the entire thing happen. And then the careers left into the jungle. And I stayed on the hill for a bit, contemplating my options.

And, because I know you're all thinking it, it was for the sponsors. Not for Victoria.

But I regret it as soon as she fully comes into consciousness. I'm making something that will help me blend into the dirt and trees with some soil and leaves when I hear her squeal, "I knew you would come through, Zed, I knew it!"

Not looking up from my camouflage, I say, "Yeah," and stare at the top of a tree. The cameras are getting that stare right now; it's a stare that says I'm-going-to-kill-you, and when my mentor sees it he'll know it's meant especially for him. "Look. Can you be quiet for, like, five minutes while I make the camouflage?" She hasn't said anything yet, no, but I know it's probably on the way.

"Zed…" she says, and I grimace as I mash the leaves and soil into a paste. I don't want to hear this. "Thank you."

I have the urge to smile, but don't. "You're welcome, Victoria," I say in monotone.

As I finish up all the camouflage and spread it over my bright white shirt and a bit on my face and bare skin, I turn around to find Victoria sleeping peacefully under a tree, lying on the ground, not one inch of her skin free of a scratch or cut or a speck of blood. She really went through a beating, didn't she? So I spread some of the paste on her, too, just in case, and sit beside her and keep watch for any tributes.

I suppose she deserves some rest.

Tiffany's POV (1)

I stay on the border of jungle and desert for as long as I can. Water puddles at my feet at one point, and so I get up and walk along the border till I can't move my feet any longer and have to sit back down. Four cannons have gone off. Three are for my former allies—Caitlin, Nicholas, and Robert. I don't know who the fourth is for, but when they play the anthem tonight I guess I'll find out.

I'm starving and thirsty and need something in my stomach. I'm not used to having so little to eat and drink, and so I go into the jungle and hope I can find, well, anything. I don't get too far, though, because if I know going deeper may be entering career territory. The one place I really don't want to be in this arena.

I try to scrape a cactus with some rocks, get only a few drops off, which I guzzle down in seconds and instantly crave more; but, not knowing what else to do, I continue hitting the cactus with the tiny rock and only receiving a few drops per hit, but it's water nonetheless.

I lie down under the trees, but half of my right arm is lying on the hot sand of the desert. Maybe, I should just die like this. If the careers catch me they'll make it a show. They'll make it so the Capitol will enjoy it—painful. If I just drift off to sleep, now…

That's when a small silver parachute falls out of the sky. It lands on my stomach, and I look over my nose at it. Sponsors? I have sponsors? I sit up and eagerly hold the shiny piece of life in my hands, but soon grow impatient and rip it open.

A tiny roll of bread.

That's it? A roll of bread? Someone was considerate enough to sponsor me, yeah okay whatever, but a roll of bread? Not even some water? Juice maybe, to keep me up and going and killing off tributes? Oh, no, but here. I'll send you a roll of bread.

I chew it down anyways though, because I'm starving. I give two thumbs up to the sky, to whoever sent me the bread, and walk off to hit the cactus with a rock some more. A few more drops, but just enough to moisten my lips. Just enough to tease me. Just enough for me to want more.

"Okay," I hear a tired voice say from behind me. I freeze. "Look. I don't really want to kill you. I'm exhausted and all I want is to curl up and have a nice nap. So, let's just make this quick. How do you want it to go? You can choose, really, I don't care."

Bridger, I realize, from District Seven. He got a ten in training. I heard he used an axe and cut up a bunch of dummies like he was simply ripping up paper. There's no way I can fight him off. No way at all. But I turn around slowly, and face him, although by doing this I may be accepting my death.

He does look tired. Those bags are pretty big.

"I said you can choose," he repeats. "Quick, I'm guessing?"

I need to run. I'm not fast, but if I could just surprise him…

"Okay, you lost your chance. I get to choose now." He starts walking towards me, his blond hair hanging slightly in one eye, but I bring my foot up and kick him where it'll hurt him. To my surprise he grunts and falls back a bit, so I push him into the cactus. And when he tries to reach out to catch himself his right hand gets poked by all the spikes, and, as he cries out in pain, I race into the jungle and away from my death.