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Finale
A Way

Jade Floren
District One Mentor

Just two more tributes to kill.

Jade drummed his fingers nervously on the arm of the couch. Beside him, Glenn was leaning forward, staring intently at the screen, as if by simply willing it, he could give Lyre a little more time. On the other end of the couch, Lander was slumped back against the cushions, trying to pretend he didn't care. Trying to pretend he was already resigned to his tribute's fate, that he definitely wasn't as anxious as the rest of them.

He wasn't fooling anyone.

Behind them, the other mentors had gathered. Trying to appear neutral. Trying not to take sides. They weren't fooling anyone, either. Mags' tributes had been Lyre's allies, and so had Norah's. It was only natural for them to be partial. Hazel was partial to Carolina for giving Kaji his revenge and then a merciful death. Lenora was partial to Thea for the same reason – for finally ending Cormac's torture. And Ivy's tributes had been Thea's allies, despite their untimely deaths.

But so had Alicante.

Jade hoped that wouldn't work against her – having been allies with that monster. There was no reason why it should, of course. It wasn't her fault that her district partner was a sadistic psychopath. At most, she'd gone along with his actions – and then defied him by killing Cormac. Alicante's actions were his, and his alone. No one would hold that against Thea.

At least, in a perfect world, they wouldn't.

The mutts were beginning to converge on the cornucopia – Carolina nestled behind the neck of one of the larger, long-necked ones, Lyre seated on the back of one of the cow-like, plate-covered ones. He could see Thea's eyes growing wide with awe. Shock. Maybe even a little fear.

But only a little.

Good. A little fear was good. A little fear would keep her from acting rashly.

He had to remind himself that she hadn't really seen many of the mutts up close – and, even then, it had only been briefly, in the dark, as they stampeded by. Now, in the early morning light, she could see them. All coming together.

A perfect finale.

Jade realized he was holding his breath. Thea probably couldn't see any of her targets yet. The mutts were too big, the tributes too small among the herd. But she still had time. At least a little. If she managed to spot one, she could pick them off easily. Then there would only be one.

One more tribute to kill.

Thea Cheviott, 18
District One Female

They were hiding.

Thea glanced in one direction, then another. Wherever the other two were, they were hiding. And they were hiding well.

There were plenty of places to hide, of course. Plenty of large, lumbering mutts. Mutts with spikes, mutts with horns, mutts with long necks. Flying mutts and scampering mutts. Harmless-looking mutts and mutts with sharp teeth and claws.

So where would Alicante and Kaji be hiding?

Probably one of the dangerous-looking ones. Alicante wasn't very subtle. And he'd want to make an entrance. But Kaji … he was smart enough to choose something not quite as obvious. Maybe one of the three-horned ones. Then again, Alicante might pick the one he thought would make the best artwork. What would make a good masterpiece? A mutt eating a tribute? Stepping on one? Skewering one with its horn?

Stop thinking. Just pick one.

What if it didn't matter? What if she could just pick one? If she started enough of a panic, caused enough chaos, the mutts might begin to scatter, and the tributes would be forced from their hiding places.

And, if it didn't matter, she might as well go for what the audience would enjoy.

Carefully, trying to compensate for her missing fingers, Thea took aim at the huge, roaring one with the giant mouth and short, skinny little arms.

The arrow hit it squarely in the eye.

Immediately, she knew no tributes had been riding that mutt. If they had, they would have been thrown instantly. The mutt charged forward, roaring, and, as she'd hoped, the other mutts began to scatter. She hadn't injured the mutt – not really – but she'd given the signal.

The signal for the final battle to begin.

Then she saw him – but not the 'him' she had been expecting. Not Alicante. Not Kaji. The boy from Ten, atop one of the spiked mutts, trying very hard not to lose his grip on one of the mutt's plates.

Thea stared, bewildered, for a moment. This changed everything. She had been planning for Alicante and Kaji, but at least one of them was dead. Maybe both of them. Had they killed each other?

She could only hope.

Quickly, she took aim at the boy, bouncing up and down on the mutt's back. But the arrow ricocheted harmlessly off of one of the mutt's plates. The boy, startled, ducked down lower, trying to keep his grip while also staying out of sight. Thea cursed quietly. She had never quite mastered hitting a moving target, and now the boy was all but hidden by the plates. If she shot enough arrows, she might eventually hit him, but she didn't have an endless supply.

Time to do this the hard way.

Thea leapt down from her position atop the cornucopia and raced towards the spiked mutts. The boy saw her coming. At first, he simply ducked lower, maybe hoping she hadn't seen him. But then he jumped off the mutt.

Immediately, he began to run, ducking behind the mutts, trying to get as far away as possible. Thea shook her head. Didn't he realize yet? Didn't he know that simply running away was impossible?

Didn't he know that the Gamemakers wouldn't let him?

Lyre Fairfax, 15
District Ten Male

He wouldn't be able to get far enough away.

Lyre shook the thought from his head as he dodged another mutt's leg. What else was he supposed to do? Fight? With what? He had a rock. The other girl had a bow, and, now that she was a little closer, he could see knives, as well. Who knew what else she had at the cornucopia?

The cornucopia. That was it. If he could get to that – if he could get his hands on a real weapon – then there was a chance.

But that was back the other way.

In his panic, he'd simply run away from the girl – in as straight a line as possible. Now he had to double back. But did he have the time?

He didn't have a choice.

Lyre ducked behind a mutt. One of the large, three-horned ones. They seemed very much like the cow-mutts – content to let him hide there, as long as he didn't hurt anything. But hiding wasn't an option any more. He had to run.

He had to take his chances.

He took a few deep breaths, then darted out into the open again. Immediately, an arrow came whizzing past his head. Lyre ran on. He could see the cornucopia now. He was close. So close.

Maybe he could—

Suddenly, a sharp, jarring pain shot through his left leg. Lyre stared down at the arrow, sunk deep into the side of his thigh. Overcome by a sudden panic, he jolted forward again, fighting against the pain. He still had a chance. He just had to…

But it was too late. A second arrow struck him in the side, and, this time, he went down, landing face-down even as he tried to lurch forward. He could feel the grass beneath him. The ground trembling – shaking with the heavy footsteps of dozens of mutts.

Slowly, he rolled over. Then he could see the girl, making her way through the herd of mutts, a knife in her hand. Soon, she was at his side. Lyre did the only thing he could think of; he tossed his rock at her head. She dodged. Easily.

Pointless. So pointless. He had never had a chance – not really. He had only been prolonging the inevitable. Delaying. That was all he had done, all through the Games. Put it off a little longer.

And he was glad that he had.

Glad that he had survived the bloodbath. Glad that he had been able to help his allies in the swamp. Glad that he had found the cow mutts.

Glad that he had been there when Avalia had died.

He only wished there was someone here for him.

And, in a way, there was. The girl who was now standing over him – she didn't want to kill him; he could see that in her eyes. She was just doing what Avalia had done. What he had done when he'd killed the girl who had attacked Avalia. She was doing what she needed to do to survive.

And, as the knife plunged down and into his chest, there was a part of him that was grateful she had done it quickly.

Carolina Young, 18
District Eight Female

One down.

Carolina nodded. That was the plan. Well, almost a plan. Part of a plan. More of a blind hope that one of the other two would be impatient enough to be the one to start the fighting. And that she would then be the one to finish it.

It wasn't much of a plan, but the first part had gone well enough.

From her seat at the back of the mutt's long neck, she could see the girl pull her knife from the boy's chest. Immediately, the girl glanced around, frantic, as if a tribute might jump out at any moment and strike her from behind. And it had been tempting – very tempting – to try. But she wouldn't have made it there in time. Not from where her mutt stood on the other side of the cornucopia.

She would have to be patient.

From what she could tell, her opponent didn't want to be. She wanted it over with quickly. Not that Carolina blamed her, of course. There was a part of her that simply wanted it to end, as well. A part that wanted a quick finale instead of a long, drawn-out, gory battle to the death.

But that wasn't what the audience wanted.

They would never let it be quick – not now that it was down to the two of them. So she clung to the mutt's neck a little longer. Let the other girl sweat. Let the audience wait.

Carolina glanced around, taking in everything as quickly as she could – which wasn't as quickly as she would have been able to with two eyes, but she had time. The other girl was returning to the mouth of the cornucopia, probably assuming that her opponent would try to go for one of the weapons there. She had no way of knowing that Carolina was already armed. Kaji's machete was in her hand, one of his knives tucked in her belt. Alicante's mace might have been a better choice, but it was too large, too heavy. The machete was, too, for that matter, and she hadn't practiced with anything of the sort, but it certainly looked more impressive than a knife.

It made a good show.

The other girl was circling the cornucopia. For one terrible moment, she glanced in Carolina's direction, and Carolina was sure she had been spotted. But maybe there were too many mutts in between them. Too much chaos.

Now she just needed to cause a little more.

As carefully as she could, Carolina scrambled along the back of the mutt and down its tail, which it lowered very accommodatingly for her until her feet touched the ground. Just then, the girl came running towards her, bow drawn. So she had seen her after all.

Not good.

Carolina ducked behind the mutt's leg, using it as a shield. An arrow struck the mutt's thick hide and bounced off harmlessly. Think. The other girl had a bow. And a few knives. But she couldn't be carrying everything. The rest of the supplies were at the cornucopia. Carolina stole a glance from behind the mutt's leg. She could see two – maybe three – arrows in the girl's quiver, and one in her hand.

So she just had to make her use all of them.

Carolina took a deep breath and darted between the mutt's legs. An arrow grazed the mutt's shin. One. Carolina ducked, narrowly avoiding being trampled by the mutt's giant foot, as another struck the ground in front of her. Two. Her opponent was getting impatient. Careless. Carolina grinned and ducked behind the mutt's tail as a third one flew past her head. Three.

Just then, the tail swept suddenly to the side, striking Carolina in the chest. She did the only thing she could think of; she grabbed on. The tail whipped back and forth, finally flinging her into the air. Carolina crashed to the ground, pain shooting through her back, hoping that the girl had used her last arrow.

But she wasn't feeling particularly lucky.

Thea Cheviott, 18
District One Female

Her last arrow was gone.

Thea silently cursed her own impatience. If she'd only waited a few more seconds, the mutt would have thrown the girl, anyway, and she would have been an easy target. As it was, she'd tried to spot where the girl landed, but she'd lost her for a moment amid the trampling legs and butting heads of the mutts.

Maybe that had been the plan.

Thea glanced around frantically, hoping for some sign of the girl amid the herd of mutts. Then Thea saw her – slowly rising to her feet, testing her limbs. The bandages had been torn from the girl's head, revealing an empty eye socket. Thea glanced down at her own missing fingers. The arena had taken its toll on both of them.

But now it was time to end it.

She charged forward, arrows gone but knife in hand. The other girl's machete had been discarded when she'd grabbed the mutt's tail – maybe before – but Thea wasn't surprised. She'd probably had no idea how to use it, anyway. It had been Kaji's weapon, and—

That meant the girl had killed Kaji. Maybe Alicante, as well. Thea hesitated. She'd have to be more careful than she had thought. She couldn't afford to underestimate her opponent. Not now. If she was wrong, she wouldn't get a second chance.

The girl had seen her now, and she was running. Just like the boy. Thea couldn't contain a smirk. Why did they think they could run? Where did she think she was going to go?

In circles, apparently, because that was what she was doing – circling a group of the large, long-necked mutts. Maybe she was disoriented. Maybe the fall had been too much of a jolt, and something had simply snapped in her brain.

Maybe.

Thea ran closer and closer, but, just as she reached the mutt's legs, the girl stopped her strange zigzag pattern and charged straight at Thea. But Thea was ready, her knife raised defensively.

But the girl didn't go for her knife. Ducking low, she went for Thea's legs. Thea struck out with her knife as the two of them tumbled to the ground in a heap. She could tell from a scream that she'd found her target – or near enough. Thea yanked her knife out of the girl's shoulder. But, before she could strike again, the other girl had grabbed her arm. They rolled. Tumbled. The other girl seemed to be trying to pull her in a certain direction, but it wouldn't do any good. Thea rolled with her, fighting to free her arm, but the girl held fast.

Suddenly, the other girl jerked up. Struggling to get to her feet. Taken by surprise, Thea barely managed to grab hold of the girl's legs and pull her back down. But, by that time, the girl was looking up. Almost smiling. Too late, Thea realized what she was looking at.

The bottom of a mutt's giant foot.

Carolina Young, 18
District Eight Female

The cannon sounded.

At first, Carolina wasn't sure whether it was hers or Thea's. She barely heard the fanfare and the announcement proclaiming her the victor. She was only aware of the pain – a deep, crushing pain that filled her legs. She didn't dare look – at them, or at her opponent. She didn't want to see. She didn't want to know.

Gasping, coughing, fighting for consciousness, she lay in the grass, staring up at the sky. And at the head of the mutt. The mutt she had been circling, hoping she was right. Hoping the Gamemakers didn't have absolute control over its movements. Hoping that, if she stayed in its path long enough, she would eventually land herself – and the other girl – directly where it was about to step.

Slowly, painfully, she forced herself to sit up. Then she saw the other girl's body – completely crushed, except for her head. Her eyes were still open, staring up in shock and fear and pain. Carolina could feel tears in her own good eye as she reached over and closed Thea's.

It was over.

The hovercraft whirred above her. Carolina fought back a cry of pain as she tried to sit up a little more. Without meaning to, she caught a glimpse of her legs – badly crushed, bleeding, bones sticking out through the skin. The sight of it almost made her faint.

Almost.

She forced herself to reach up. Up for the ladder that would be lowered at any second. But, instead, what descended was the large, scaly head of one of the long-necked mutts. Carefully, with a gentleness she would never have expected from such a large creature, the mutt opened its mouth, scooped up her broken body, and lifted her towards the hovercraft.

Only once she was safely inside did Carolina let herself close her eyes, and darkness and pain engulfed her at last.

It was over.

Dr. Julian Linus
Capitol Surgeon

District Eight had the worst luck.

Well, technically, that wasn't true. Three, Six, Nine, and Twelve – the victorless districts – had the worst luck. But District Eight's pair of victors really seemed to have gotten the short end of the stick. Other tributes came out of the games with symptoms of dehydration and starvation, cuts, bruises, and maybe a few lacerations or a stab wound here and there. Easy to fix.

District Eight, on the other hand … first Lander, and now this.

Julian shook his head as he pieced the bones back into place. It would be easier to amputate. Fit her with a pair of prosthetic legs. Much easier. But he wanted to leave that decision up to her, if it was possible. He'd learned the hard way that a victor didn't always want the option that was easiest. Sometimes they felt like they deserved the pain. Like they needed to fight their own way back. He'd taken away that option once.

He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The eye, of course, was a different matter. It wasn't just broken or in need of patching up; it was completely gone. Burned away in a fire. So technology was the only option there.

He was just pondering whether to go with her natural color or a more exotic one when the communication line buzzed.

Julian sighed. He hated being interrupted. And he hated being rushed. All of the Capitol – all of Panem – was waiting to see their victor, but the fact of the matter was that she simply wasn't ready yet. He was almost finished with several hours of complex surgery, and he was in no mood to be bothered.

But there was always the chance – a slim chance, but a chance, nonetheless – that it would be the President, or the Head Gamemaker, or someone with an urgent or important request.

At least, that's what he told himself long enough to answer.

Instead, he heard his secretary's voice. "Dr. Linus, there's someone here to see you. He says it's urgent."

Julian rolled his eyes. "Well, who is it?"

Silence for a moment. "It's Lander, Dr. Linus. Lander Katz."

Damn.

Lander was the absolute last person he wanted to see. But he might as well get it over with. "Fine. Send him in. But make sure he's wearing a surgical mask."

Even with the mask, he could tell Lander was upset – angry, worried, impatient. "How is she?"

"She'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have—"

"I didn't ask how she will be. I asked how she is."

"Her legs were badly crushed, but I've managed to repair the worst of the damage."

"Then you haven't done anything…" he rubbed one of his wrists uncomfortably, searching for the right word. "Unnecessary?"

Julian shook his head. "No, Lander. I learn from my mistakes."

Lander glared. "Then you admit it was a mistake."

"Yes. And I'm sorry—"

"You should be." He turned to go, but then looked back. "And stick with blue."

"What's that?"

"The eye. You want to do something clever. Something symbolic. But stick with blue – for now. If she wants something else, she'll tell you. But, for goodness' sake, give her the choice."

"What's wrong with a little creativity?"

"Nothing. What's wrong is you making the decision." He came closer, his face practically touching Julian's. "Blue."

Julian shrugged. "Okay, then. Blue it is. Happy now?"

Lander shook his head. "No. But it'll do."

It would have to.

"The history of evolution is that life escapes all barriers. Life breaks free. Life expands to new territories. Painfully, perhaps even dangerously. But life finds a way."