Day Six
Roulette

Roulette: A gambling game in which a ball is dropped into a revolving wheel with numbered compartments, the players betting on the number at which the ball will come to rest.

Cosima Byte, 18
District Three

It was the sound of hooves that woke her, but the smoke in the air that alerted her to the fact that she needed to get up now. Cosima sprang to her feet as a horse galloped past. Cosima shook her head. Maybe she was still half-asleep, because the horse seemed to be metal. And it seemed to be on fire.

Then again, everything around her seemed to be on fire – or at least close to it. The horse was trailing flames in its wake, setting the corn stalks aflame. Cosima grabbed her pack and raced through the corn field, without much thought about which direction she was going or whether she might be heading exactly where the other tributes wanted her to go.

There was no way this fire was an accident, after all. Someone had set it. Probably someone who wanted to coax the tributes out of hiding. Maybe one of the other tributes. Maybe even the Gamemakers. Whatever the case, she didn't really have a choice. She had to get away from the fire. And if that meant running towards the other tributes, then so be it.

Cosima blinked the tears from her eyes as she plunged onward through the smoke. Everything else could wait. She had to get out of the corn field. That was all there was to it. She just had to keep going. Through the flames. Through the smoke.

Suddenly, she could feel the heat of the flames directly behind her. Her backpack was on fire. Shit! Without thinking, she slid the backpack off as she ran. She could find more supplies later. Assuming the whole arena wasn't on fire. Right now, her life was more important.

Breathe.

But it was getting harder to breathe. She was coughing almost uncontrollably by the time she finally reached the edge of the corn field and got a good look at the rest of the arena. She almost wished she hadn't. Everything seemed to be burning. The corn field. The train station. The trees. Everything except...

Except the pond. Of course. As fast as she could, Cosima raced towards the pond. She couldn't swim, but as long as she stayed in the shallow water, she would be safe. Safe from the flames, at least – and that was all that mattered right now.

The water was surprisingly cool. Cosima ducked under the water, making sure to stay where she could touch the bottom of the pond. It didn't seem to be that deep, anyway. Cosima breathed a sigh of relief, glancing around the arena. There didn't seem to be any other tributes nearby, but she couldn't count on that for long. If they had any sense at all, they would head for the water, which meant she could have company very soon.

For the moment, though, she was safe – a feeling that was only confirmed as a beeping noise filled the air and a small parachute floated down through the smoke. Cosima chuckled as it landed in the water beside her. "Okay, then." Maybe some supplies to replace the ones she'd left to burn in the corn field.

As she opened it, she couldn't hold back a laugh. "Really? A water bottle?" She opened it and drank a little, but it still seemed a bit silly. She was in a pond, after all. And it wasn't as if this was the only source of water in the arena, either. Still, at least this meant she would have a way to carry that water now. She wouldn't have to stay by the pond.

And maybe that was the message. Don't stay in the pond too long. She could probably stay until the fire burned itself out, but after that, she would have to leave. She would have to get moving. That was probably why the Gamemakers had allowed the fire to burn in the first place – to get the tributes moving.

Well, she could take a hint. Once the fire died down, she would leave. Until then, she would just have to sit tight and hope for the best.

Dexter Guernsey, 13
District Ten

All he could do was hope that Izzy was safe from the fire, too. The smoke was getting too thick to see anything. Merric was still beside him, gripping his hand tightly. But there was no way for them to find Izzy. No way to see anything through the smoke. No way to even tell which way the fire was coming from, or which would be the best way to go.

But going anywhere was better than staying put. The entire arena seemed to be on fire. If they stayed put, they would die. If they kept moving, they might be able to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere safe. Somewhere that wasn't on fire yet. Dexter gripped Merric's hand as tightly as he could. They'd already lost track of one ally. He had no intention of losing another.

Suddenly, Merric pointed at something in the distance. "Look! A tree!"

Dexter shook his head. "What good does that do us? Trees burn!"

Merric nodded. "Yeah, but if one of us can climb it quickly, we might get a good look around before—"

"Before we get burned alive?" Dexter blurted out before he could stop himself. He couldn't help it. He was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life. And what Merric was suggesting – it didn't sound like a good idea at all.

"Do you have a better idea?" Merric demanded.

He didn't. He didn't have any idea what to do. He didn't have any idea what the Gamemakers were thinking. Did they mean to just kill them all? There were still ten tributes left. They couldn't be trying to end the Games this soon.

Could they?

No. No, Merric's plan was better than no plan at all. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly, and the pair of them headed for the tree, the fire close behind them. Dexter rubbed the smoke from his eyes with his free hand, clinging tightly to Merric.

"I'll climb up," the older boy offered as they reached the tree, and Dexter didn't argue. His plan. His risk. Besides, he was probably the faster climber. Dexter finally let go of Merric's hand and watched as his ally – his friend – climbed higher and higher into the branches. "Do you see anything?"

"I think we should head south!" Merric called back. "The fire seems a bit thinner in that direction!"

South. The sun was probably rising somewhere, but he couldn't see it through the smoke. Which way was south? How the hell could Merric tell which way south was? Maybe he could see the sun better from up there. "Which way's that?"

"That way!" Merric pointed off to Dexter's right. "Get going! I'm right behind you!"

He didn't want to. He wanted to wait for Merric to climb down. But the fire was getting closer and closer. Hotter and hotter. He could feel the smoke getting thicker. If he waited for Merric now, they might both die.

Besides, Merric could catch up. He was a Career, after all. He was faster. And he was already halfway down from the tree. Dexter took off through the smoke, hoping Merric was right about being right behind him. If not…

If not, they would find each other later. That had always seemed to work out before. Merric and Izzy had found him at the cornucopia. They'd found each other in the corn field. And they could do it again, if that was what they had to do. They'd always gotten lucky before. Why would that change now?

Izzy Thatcher, 12
District Seven

Maybe the fire was for the best, after all. Izzy coughed a little as she followed the clowns. This could be her chance to get away. All she had to do was distract the clowns long enough. She could probably make a run for it.

Probably. But 'probably' wasn't good enough. The clowns could easily catch her if they wanted to. Which meant that she would have to do something to convince the Gamemakers to let her go. Something interesting. Something daring.

Then she saw something through the smoke. Some sort of animal, galloping towards her. Galloping. A horse. What was a horse doing in the middle of the fire? In fact, it seemed to be on fire. Izzy lunged out of the way as it approached, but then she saw something. A rope, hanging from the horse's neck. Was that supposed to be a hint? Were the Gamemakers trying to give her a way out?

There was only one way to find out. As the horse drew closer, Izzy reached out and grabbed the rope, quickly pulling herself onto the horse's back. Okay. Okay, then. But now what was she supposed to do?

Before she could even think about how to give the horse directions, it took off, its mane and tail still burning. Izzy gripped the rope tightly, hoping it wouldn't catch fire. She just had to hold on. Just long enough to get away from the fire.

Suddenly, the rope snapped. Izzy couldn't help a scream as she was thrown from the horse, half a rope still in her grasp. As she flew through the air, she struck something. Something soft.

Another tribute.

Shit. She couldn't see through the smoke who it was, but she could feel them. A pair of hands, reaching out towards her. Maybe trying to grab her. Maybe just trying to figure out what had hit them. She wasn't sure.

And she couldn't risk waiting to find out.

Still coughing from the smoke, still winded from being thrown, Izzy reached out with the only weapon she had – the rope that was in her hands. Her hands found the tribute's neck, and she looped the rope around as quickly as she could. The tribute let out a noise. A gasping, wheezing sound. Izzy squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't look. She had to do this. If the Gamemakers had forced the horse to throw her, this was probably the reason. They'd wanted one of them to kill the other, and if she didn't do it…

Then the other tribute would. Izzy squeezed as hard as she could, the other tribute thrashing beneath her grasp. Gasping for breath. Izzy squeezed harder. Harder. Finally, the thrashing stopped. The body beneath her went limp.

Boom!

Izzy finally relaxed her grip as the cannon sounded. Okay. She was alive. She was still alive. And the other tribute – whoever it was – they were dead. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Immediately, she wished she hadn't. Now that the smoke was clearing a little, she could see the back of the other tribute's head. The tribute's hair.

Red hair.

No. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be him. He was supposed to be back at the cornucopia. He wasn't supposed to be here.

He wasn't supposed to be dead.

Izzy couldn't stop the tears as she turned the body over. Dexter's body. He was dead. She had killed him. Izzy scooped his body up in her arms, sobbing into his shirt. She hadn't meant for this to happen. She hadn't meant to kill him.

She could feel the fire getting closer, the smoke getting thicker. But she didn't care. She didn't care about any of it. Maybe it would be better if she just stayed here.

Carlisle Talbot, 18
District Six

"You can't stay here," Carlisle whispered, his voice hoarse from the smoke that was starting to drift closer. Closer. He gripped Clemence's hand tightly. "Look, you did everything you could. Now you have to save yourself."

Clemence shook her head stubbornly. "I … I can bring you with me. I can help you walk if—"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I can't just leave you here to be burned alive."

Carlisle managed a small smile. "Well, thank goodness for that, at least." He reached for the sickle she'd managed to find earlier. "I wasn't asking you to leave me alive."

"You want me to…"

No. No, he didn't want her to. He didn't want to die at all. But that was rather inevitable now. He hadn't expected to last this long with the wound in his stomach. And if the choice was between being burned alive and a quick death at his district partner's hands … well, there wasn't really much of a choice.

Carlisle nodded, pressing the sickle into her hands. "You can do it. Take the supplies. Get out of here. Survive."

Clemence shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It should be you. It shouldn't be me."

"Bullshit." He gripped her hand tightly. "Doesn't matter who it should be. It shouldn't be any of us, but it is. And right now it's you. You get to survive." He shook his head. "Unless you want to stay here and die with me, I guess. Morbid, but poetic." He chuckled a little.

Clemence couldn't help a small laugh. "I don't think so."

Carlisle smiled. "I didn't expect you to. Now get it over with."

Clemence gripped the sickle, holding it against his neck. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." And he wasn't. Not really. If he was going to die, maybe this wasn't so bad. There were worse ways to go. Worse people to be with now, at the end. Carlisle gave his district partner's hand one last squeeze. Then the sickle sliced across his neck, and everything went dark.

Thalia Gold, 17
District One

Boom! Thalia nearly jumped as another cannon sounded – the second since she and Confidence had blown up the carousel. It hadn't taken them long to realize exactly what they'd unleashed – and that any thought of flushing out the tributes would have to wait until they were safe. The fire was out of control, and the best thing – the only thing – to do now was to get away as quickly as they could.

"This way!" Thalia called, but she honestly had no idea whether or not Confidence was still behind her. He could be anywhere. Hell, she could be anywhere. She wasn't entirely sure where anything was in this smoke. What had the Gamemakers been thinking?

What had she been thinking? She and Confidence were the ones who had set off the explosion, after all. But when she'd seen the horses galloping out of the flames, she'd assumed that the Gamemakers would only use them to flush some of the other tributes out of hiding, not to set the whole damn arena on fire.

Suddenly, her foot caught on something as she ran, and she nearly tripped. "Damn it!" she called, glancing down to see a body. The girl from Ten. Thalia shook her head and took off running again. She would have to keep moving – and quickly – if she didn't want to end up right there beside her.

Only once she'd been running for a few minutes did it strike her as odd that the body hadn't been burnt at all. What had killed the girl? Smoke inhalation, maybe? Or maybe she'd had some sort of wound that Thalia hadn't seen. Still, it seemed a bit strange for the body to just be lying there.

What if she hadn't been dead?

Thalia shook the thought from her head. It was too late to go back and check now. The fire was too close behind her. Besides if the girl stayed there long enough, she would be dead soon enough, if she wasn't already.

Thalia clenched her fists and kept running. Finally, she could see the cornucopia in the distance. But would even that be safe from the fire? Not likely. If the fire made it that far, it could easily burn up all of the supplies. No, the safer bet – now that she actually knew where she was – was to head for one of the ponds. There was one not too far away from the cornucopia, after all. She'd spent the night there a while ago, when the boy from Five had found her and taken shelter with her.

The thought made her chuckle a little. It seemed like such a long time ago. Now there were only eight of them left. They were down to the final eight already. Maybe that was why the Gamemakers had decided to let the fire burn as long as it had. Maybe they were trying to speed things along a bit.

If so, it certainly seemed to be working. Two cannons in only a short period of time, and the fire was certainly showing no signs of stopping. She just hoped the pond was as close as she remembered it being. For now, she was safely ahead of the fire. For a moment, she even considered stopping at the cornucopia and picking up a few more supplies.

But that thought didn't last long. She already had plenty. Especially now that the Games were moving faster. What she had wouldn't have to last her more than a few days, at most. And she certainly had enough for that. It wasn't worth risking her life over. Right now, she just had to get to safety.

Alexia Wright, 17
District Ten

Part of her was still surprised that had actually worked. Alexia struggled to hold back a cough as she staggered to her feet, still keeping a close eye on the direction where the girl from One had disappeared. It had been a desperate idea, playing dead to try to avoid the Career's attention, but she'd been banking on the idea that even a Career would want to get as far away from the fire as they could, as quickly as possible, and might not bother with what appeared to be a dead body.

And it had worked. Alexia stumbled off in the opposite direction, back towards the corn field. The wind had taken a turn, forcing the worst part of the fire off to the east. Which was good for her, since she seemed to be on the western side of the arena. All she had to do was get to the pond that was near the corn field, and she would probably be good for a while.

Alexia wiped the sweat from her forehead as she took a few more steps. Then a few more. All she really wanted right now was water. Between running from the clowns earlier and then from the fire, she'd lost most of the supplies she'd had, except for a knife in her pocket. And that wasn't going to do her much good for long if she couldn't find food and water.

Water. That was her first priority. The fire had made the entire arena hot and dry. But that also meant water was where most of the other tributes would head.

The ones who were left, at least. There had been two cannons since the fire started, and there was no telling when the next one might come. That meant there were only eight of them left in the arena. The girl from One had been headed in the opposite direction, but she had no way of knowing where anyone else might be. She'd seen Dexter, of course, along with the boy from Four – and Izzy before that – but that had been hours ago. For all she knew, they were dead by now.

Of course, for all she knew, they were fifty feet in front of her.

Alexia shook the thought from her head. If the Gamemakers were determined to force her to run into someone else, they could have by now. Hell, they could probably have done something to make the girl from One think twice about leaving a body on the ground. They hadn't. For now, they were probably content with the two cannons that had sounded. As long as she kept moving, she would probably be fine.

So she would just have to keep moving.

Finally, she could see the pond in the distance. Alexia took a cautious step closer. Then another. "Hello?" she called quietly, as if anyone would really answer if they were there. Of course they wouldn't. She certainly wouldn't, if she was hiding in the pond.

In fact, if there was someone hiding in the pond, chances were good that they were just as scared as she was. That they had probably run there to hide from the fire, just like her. In fact, anyone who was still alive was probably just as terrified, just as uncertain about what might be coming next. If there was anyone left in the arena who wasn't scared, she would be very surprised.

But that didn't make it any safer. Frightened people sometimes did more dangerous things than people who weren't. Izzy had certainly been frightened when she'd helped the clowns tie Alexia to the railroad tracks. That hadn't stopped her. Quite the opposite.

"Hello?" a voice called back from the other end of the pond, startling Alexia.

Alexia took a step back. "Who's there?"

"You first."

Fine. No reason not to tell the truth. "Alexia. District Ten."

"Cosima. District Three."

So she was still alive. That made the two of them, plus the girl from One. Alexia took a few steps closer. "I just … just wanted some water."

To her surprise, Cosima nodded, stepping away from the pond. "Help yourself."

"You mean it?"

Cosima held up her hands. "Look, I'm not exactly armed. Doesn't look like you are, either. So unless we're planning to duke it out in a fistfight over a little water … yeah, I mean it."

Alexia nodded. She had a point. She had a knife, of course, but there was no way of knowing whether Cosima might have something up her sleeve, as well. It was probably safer to just take some water and leave.

But the Gamemakers…

Would they really let her just walk away? But what was the alternative? If they weren't going to fight…

Alexia took a step closer. "Do you mind if I stay?"

"Pardon?"

"Just for a little while. Until the fire dies down. Then we can go our separate ways, or, I mean, depending on who's left, we might want to…"

"Team up? Be allies? This late in the game?"

Alexia shrugged. "Hey, there are still eight tributes left. If you think you can take the others out all on your own, that's fine, but me? I think we could both use a little help."

Cosima hesitated a moment, then nodded. "For a little while."

Alexia nodded. "For a little while."

Confidence Best, 16
District One

Just a little longer. Confidence gripped his mace, safely hidden in the tunnel beneath the tent. As soon as he'd managed to break away from Thalia, he'd run straight for the tent, ready to wait out the worst of the fire. Now that the noise was finally dying down a little outside, Confidence opened the trap door and stuck his head out. There seemed to be more smoke now than actual fire, which was good. The bad news was that the tent he'd been hiding under was entirely burned down, completely exposing him to anyone who happened to be looking his way.

Fortunately, he didn't see anyone in the area. But in the distance … there seemed to be something. Something moving a little on the ground. Another tribute? Maybe. Maybe a mutt. Either way, it was obvious which was the best way to go now. As quietly as he could, trying not to startle the tribute – if it was a tribute – in the distance, Confidence crept a little closer. Then a little more.

Finally, he could see a little better through the smoke. It was a tribute. Two, in fact, although one was either dead or unconscious from the smoke. The second, one of the younger boys, was going through the first tribute's pockets, gasping for breath. Maybe hoping for some water. That was what he certainly wanted right about now. But if the other tribute had any, they would likely have drunk it all themselves.

Confidence gripped his mace, taking another step. Then another. Suddenly, he stepped on something – something that cracked. A piece of wood, maybe. Shit. The other tribute sprang to his feet, but Confidence was faster. Before the boy knew what hit him, Confidence was beside him, swinging his mace, knocking the boy's legs out from under him. The younger tribute landed with a thump on top of the body he'd been scavenging from.

Confidence swung again, but the boy rolled out of the way, scrambling to his feet. Trying to run. Confidence lunged, and the boy pulled a knife from his pocket. Right. Like a knife was really going to do him any good. Confidence swung his mace as hard as he could, knocking the blade from the boy's hand. The boy screamed in pain, clutching his hand as the knife flew off into the smoke.

Confidence swung again. The boy dodged – slower this time. One more swing from his mace swept the kid's legs out from under him once more, and he toppled to the ground, shielding his face with his hands as the mace came down. Blood spattered, but no cannon – not yet. The boy was still alive, clutching his hand, his nose broken and bleeding. Confidence raised his mace.

But as it came down, something stopped the blow. A spear. Confidence whirled around to see Merric, a spear in his hand. "Go!" Merric shouted at the other boy. "Get out of here! And take her with you!" He gestured to the body on the ground. Apparently, he thought the girl was still alive.

Maybe she was. He hadn't bothered to check. He'd been more concerned with the boy. But now his concern was Merric. The others could wait until later.

Merric Belgrave, 18
District Four

"Get out of here!" Merric called again, fending off another blow from Confidence as the boy he'd saved staggered towards Izzy. At least, he hoped it was still Izzy – and not Izzy's corpse. The boy looked around helplessly, probably wondering how he was supposed to get her to safety. Merric took another swing at Confidence, trying to drive him farther away from the two younger tributes. But Confidence circled back around towards them.

Just as he did, however, something burst out of the smoke – something fiery. One of the horses that had started the fire to begin with. Merric almost burst out laughing as the horse bent down, allowing the younger boy to hoist Izzy's body up onto its back before climbing on himself. "Go!" Merric shouted. "I'm right behind you!"

He'd said the same thing to Dexter earlier, but it had taken him longer to get down from the tree than he'd anticipated. Merric swung again. Confidence didn't seem to be tiring at all. It was almost as if he hadn't been breathing the smoky air for the last … How long had it even been? Hours? It certainly felt like hours. Merric staggered backwards through the smoke, smiling a little as the horse rode off. At least Izzy was safe, and the boy from Five along with her. That was something.

Now if only he could find Dexter.

Merric dodged another blow, circling around in the smoke. That would have to wait. First, he had to deal with Confidence. He ducked below Confidence's next blow, stabbing at his legs. Confidence dodged, but not before the spear scraped across his calf, drawing a little blood. Confidence kicked at the spear, nearly wrenching it from Merric's grasp. But he held on tightly. Right now, it was the only weapon he had. The only one he'd taken from the cornucopia when he and Dexter had run off after Izzy.

Merric backed up a little. Maybe he could tire Confidence out. Yes. Yes, that was it. He just had to keep dodging the boy's blows long enough for him to wear himself out. He took another step backwards. Then another.

Suddenly, his foot caught on something. He stumbled a little, but managed to catch himself in time. He barely had time to dodge Confidence's next blow, but, finally, he got enough of a chance to look down and see what he'd tripped over.

Who he'd tripped over.

Dexter. Shit. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to get Dexter to safety now that he'd sent Izzy and Wade away? Merric dodged another blow, but as he did, something caught his eye. Something around Dexter's neck.

A rope.

He was already dead.

Merric clenched his teeth. He'd told Dexter to run on ahead, and it had gotten him killed. For all he knew, Confidence might have been the one who killed him. "Did you do this?" Merric growled.

Confidence laughed. "What? The kid? Oh, was he one of yours? What was his name? Lester?"

"Dexter! Did you kill him?"

Confidence swung again. "No, but I would have, if I'd gotten the chance. That's the difference between me and you. You're soft, and it's going to cost you."

"Don't count on it."

"Oh, it already happened. You could have stabbed me earlier, instead of stopping me from smashing that kid's face in. But you knew. You knew if you stabbed me in the back, I'd still have the strength to bring this mace down one more time and kill your precious little friends."

Merric could feel his face growing red. The worst part was, he was right. It hadn't even occurred to him to go for the kill, instead. His only thought had been about saving … who? A boy he didn't even really know. He hadn't even seen Izzy until after the fact. Saving Wade … that had just been an instinct.

Merric took another jab at Confidence with his spear, but the boy showed no signs of tiring. He swung again. And again. Merric took another step backwards. Then another. This wasn't working. He had to try something else.

Think.

But it was getting harder to think clearly. The smoke seemed to be growing even thicker. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of something behind him. A hole of some sort. Maybe he could trick Confidence into it…

It was certainly worth a try. Merric took a step backwards. Then another. Trying to steer Confidence towards the hole in the ground. Confidence smirked. "Nice try. That's where I was this whole time – safe from the fire."

Merric saw his chance. "Oh, so you were hiding?"

"I wasn't hiding! I was—"

"What, then?"

Without another word, Confidence lunged at Merric's legs. Merric dodged, taking a step backwards, but, just as Confidence landed beside him, the ground began to collapse. Whatever was holding up the ground above the tunnel, it must have been weakened by the fire. Merric staggered a little as the ground gave way beneath them, sending the pair of them tumbling down.

Merric landed with a thump and a crack – but not any of his bones. Shit. He'd landed on his spear. Broken it. But he couldn't let Confidence see that. The other boy charged, and Merric rolled out of the way, stabbing upwards with the tip of the spear, slicing across Confidence's thigh as the mace came down against his shoulder. Merric couldn't stop a cry of pain as the mace connected hard, with an awful cracking sound.

Merric gripped the end of his spear tightly, stabbing again, but Confidence kicked it from his hand as he brought the mace down again. Merric tried to stand, but it was too late. The mace struck the back of his head with a crack, sending everything into a blurry haze. Merric barely felt the spear slide from his grip. At least Izzy had gotten away. At least she was safe. That was something. Maybe that was good enough...

Wade Larthey, 12
District Five

Boom! Another cannon shook the air – the third since the fires had started. Wade gripped the horse's mane as tightly as he could with his left hand, but even that was hard. The mane was no longer burning like it had been when he'd first seen the horses gallop by, but it was still hot. He could feel it burning into his skin, but he didn't dare let go. He didn't want to risk being thrown. Not until they were a safe distance away. Not until he was sure the Career wouldn't come after him.

Wade gasped for breath as the horse galloped on through the smoke. It was almost like something out of one of his comic books – the hero scooping up and rescuing a beautiful girl and carrying her to safety on a fiery steed. Except none of that was true. He wasn't a hero. He hadn't been trying to save the girl. The only reason he'd been attacked in the first place was because he'd been rummaging through her supplies trying to find water. Hell, he'd assumed she was dead until the boy had told him to take her with him.

He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that. He could easily have gotten on the horse himself and simply rode out of there without any trouble. But the older boy had saved his life. Maybe that earned him … what? A favor?

Wade gripped the horse's mane as it finally slowed to a stop near what looked like a ship. Quickly, Wade slid off the horse, immediately collapsing onto the scorched ground as the horse dumped the girl off next to him. For a moment, he simply lay there, exhausted. His right hand still hurt like hell, and his nose was almost certainly broken. It had stopped bleeding, at least – that was something – but he was certainly in no condition to fight.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to. The Gamemakers wouldn't allow him to escape from one fight only to send him headlong into another, would they? Maybe. Maybe not. There was no telling, really, what they might do. Wade closed his eyes. He didn't want to fight. He didn't even want to move. Everything hurt. He could tell without looking that his left hand hand been burned where he'd held onto the horse's mane. The Career's mace had completely smashed his left. There was no telling what else might be wrong with him.

But he was alive.

That was something. Right now, it was everything. It was the only thing he had. No food. No water. No supplies. No weapons. Nothing. Nothing except his own life and a girl who was probably still unconscious.

Slowly, Wade opened his eyes. Sure enough, the girl next to him showed no signs of waking up. But she was still breathing. Still alive. Probably just passed out from the smoke. If he could get some water…

But he didn't want to get up.

Wade closed his eyes. He could worry about water later. He could worry about everything later. If someone came along and killed him, fine. Right now, he just wanted to rest.

Clemence Aldrin, 14
District Six

She couldn't stop to rest. Not yet. Clemence staggered on towards the edge of the arena. She'd already crossed the railroad tracks, which meant she was probably safe from the fire. It seemed to have mostly stayed in the northern half or so of the arena. But apparently that had been enough to draw some of the tributes out of hiding. There had been three cannons since the fires started, after all.

Three cannons. And one of them had been Carlisle's. Clemence glanced down at the sickle in her hand, still wet with his blood. His family wouldn't even get a chance to bury him. The fire had probably burned his body to a crisp, along with anyone else who had been unlucky enough to get caught in it.

But she was still alive. Along with six other tributes. That was what mattered right now. She was in the final seven. She was still alive. She had a weapon. There hadn't been much in Carlisle's bag, but there had been a blanket, and maybe the corn field hadn't been completely burned down.

Maybe. That was a big maybe, but it was something. Besides, if there were only seven of them left, chances were, the Games wouldn't last much longer – one way or the other. All she had to do was hold out a little longer.

Right. Hold out a little longer and either kill six other tributes or wait for them to kill each other. It had been six days, and the only person she'd actually killed was Carlisle. And he'd been dying, anyway, which should have made it easier. But…

But nothing. If she hadn't done it, he would have burned alive in the fire. That would have been worse. He'd wanted her to do it. He'd asked her to do it.

Still, she would never forget the look in his eyes. The way they'd slowly glossed over. How limp his body had been after…

Stop it. She was used to dead bodies. That wasn't the problem. The problem was them being alive one minute and then dead the next. The difference, the change – that was the problem. As rain started to pour down on the arena, Clemence finally sank down on the ground, shaking her head. Could she really do that again?

Yes. Yes, she could. Most tributes could, when it came down to it. The real question was whether or not she would get the chance. Whether she could actually win a fight against someone else. And while that didn't seem particularly likely, it was also true that she was still here. Still alive, when her older, stronger district partner was dead. Still alive, when seventeen other tributes were dead. That had to count for something.

Um ... whew! Three deaths in one chapter. Haven't had that for a while. Final seven, everybody!

Completely and totally for fun, there's a poll on my profile to see if you can guess who the Victor is going to be. Since the Victor has already been randomly determined, this will affect exactly nothing, but you get ... bragging rights, I guess, if you get it right?

24th - Owen Askoya, D8. Killed by Troy Arrowhead with an explosive baseball.

23rd - Martha Cabott, D9. Decapitated by Thalia Gold.

22nd - Ichabod Garjan, D7. Stabbed through the chest by Thalia Gold.

21st - Deimos Martel, D2. Stabbed through the back by Garth Kain.

20th - Emerson Watt, D5. Stabbed (accidentally) by Garth Kain.

19th - Stanley Newton, D3. Stabbed with a katana by Thalia Gold.

18th - Cherry Thatch, D11. Stabbed with a spear by Decima Clear.

17th - Garth Kain, D11. Stomach and throat sliced by Carlisle Talbot.

16th - Emilia Rey Fumero, D12. Stabbed in the back by Wade Larthey.

15th - Decima Clear, D2. Stabbed in the back by Izzy Thatcher.

14th - Isabella Thatcher, D8. Drowned in a pit trap after being speared by Cosima Byte.

13th - Troy Arrowhead, D12. Speared by Shasta Evans.

12th - Freya Clearwater, D4. Head bashed in by Confidence Best.

11th - Shasta Evans, D9. Stabbed and beaten by clown mutts.

10th - Dexter Guernsey, D10. Strangled by Izzy Thatcher.

9th - Carlisle Talbot, D6. Throat slit by Clemence Aldrin

8th - Merric Belgrave, D4. Clubbed with a mace by Confidence Best.

District Placements:

12th - District 11 - Best Placement: 17th

11th - District 2 - Best Placement: 15th

10th - District 8 - Best Placement: 14th

9th - District 12 - Best Placement: 13th

8th - District 9 - Best Placement: 11th

7th - District 4 - Best Placement: 8th