In advance, I am so so sorry for this chapter name...

Day Seven

Jordan

Much to Jordan's surprise, they had all lasted the night without killing one another. It was almost a miracle, especially considering the looks Alfred had been giving Locke all night, the looks Locke had been giving Jordan and the way Salome hadn't put her weapon down the whole time. What concerned Jordan more than that, however, was that not he hadn't even considered killing any of them while they slept, or at least pretended too. He was losing his edge and his drive, losing sight of what mattered- making it home alive, not making friends and playing happy families.
He stood up, brushing himself off, having been forced to sleep straight on the grass after losing his supplies in the second mountain slip of the week. Locke, of course, had enough supplies to last them a lifetime, and had reluctantly started handing them out to the other. However, he conveniently ran out of sleeping equipment when he reached Jordan… and despite them both knowing how petty they were being, neither of them were willing to set aside their argument to work together. Jordan didn't see why he should have to, at least without a proper apology, the man had tried to kill him. And for what? Talking to his daughter? Jordan doubted the older man knew half of what Salome had done in the outside world, the people that she had been friends with and hung out with, if so, he assumed Locke's kill list would be a lot longer than it currently was.

The one thing Jordan was thankful towards the older man for, however, was his selfishness. Hoarding supplies from the very beginning were serving them well now, they had everything they needed to face whatever awaited them inside the maze- weapons, food, torches, matches, medical equipment, blankets.

"Hey, Jordan." Ezra approached the younger boy, and Jordan could clearly see the fear in his eyes. It made him smile, his reputation clearly preceded him, but for just one moment, Jordan would have liked a conversation with someone who didn't think he was about to murder them. "I noticed your arm. It's been bleeding since last night, do you think maybe I could bandage it up for you?" He asked, presenting a first aid kit.

"Thanks." Jordan looked down, offering his arm out to the doctor, who tentatively took hold of it and began cleaning it up. He had barely noticed the wound that had obviously occurred on his second descent down the cliff but now, no matter how hard he gritted his teeth, Jordan couldn't help but wince as the cut was washed out. "Ahh, hurts like a bastard." He exclaimed.

Ezra recoiled, stepping backwards. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, I can stop if you want."

"No, no, it's fine." Jordan placed his good arm around Ezra's shoulder, feeling the man tense in fear beneath him. Okay, so maybe the hopes of just a normal conversation were out of the picture, and whilst that saddened him, he also knew that he could use the fear people felt towards him to his advantage. "Don't worry, Doctor. I don't bite. Unless I'm provoked, of course."

Florence and Alfred

"Hey." Florence walked up to Alfred, who was filling up water bottles, thankful to be near to the water source for once. The last time he had attempted to replenish his supplies, it hadn't ended well for anyone.

"Hey yourself." Alfred replied, wincing at his response. What the hell was he playing at? "Sorry…" He apologised, laughing. "I mean, hi Florence."

Florence felt her face flush red, both with flattery and in pity for Alfred and his awkward ways. There was something endearing about it, though, about feeling totally comfortable with someone who was so completely oblivious to how they made you feel. "How are you holding up?" She asked, replacing the caps on the water bottles as Alfred filled them up. "After everything that happened yesterday."

Alfred had done nothing but think about the events of the previous afternoon, how guilty he had felt for leaving Newton and then being too late to save him. Much like his ally had blamed himself for Cassia's death, Alfred was doing the same for Newton."It's weird." He shook his head, things finally falling into place about how exactly he felt. "Here, you become so close to people so quickly because you're together all the time. You become reliant on them without even realising it, and then suddenly they're gone and you have to navigate your way around it all without them."

"I get what you mean." She stood up, placing her hand light on the taller boy's shoulder.

"Oh God, Florence I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask how you were feeling about losing Flynt and Lilac."

"It's okay." She smiled sadly. "From the start it was always Flynt and I. And now it's just me. I think of things that I want to tell him, things that I know he would laugh at but he's not there. It's like you said, you don't realise how quickly someone becomes part of your life, so much so that you forget how to work without them next to you."

"It's lonely. I feel so alone without having him nearby."

"You're not alone. You've got me now. And Lya and Ezra, we're a team." Florence slipped her hand into his as the last bottle was filled, the pair turning to face one another.

"Thanks, Florence."

"See, now I really want you to kiss me, but I don't think seconds after talking about our dead best friends is the perfect time." Florence laughed, feeling guilty for even trying to make a joke out of it all. Deep down though, she knew it was the only way she would get through it. If she stopped and dwelled on how much she had lost, and how much she knew she had left to lose, it would break her completely, she would give up, not see the point in fighting if all that was left was more heartbreak and death.

"I would feel weird about it too… but the last thing Newton told me to do was kiss you so…" God, now he had really ruined the moment. All Alfred could do as he lent in to kiss Florence was pray that she wasn't picture a dying Newton. Shit, now he was picturing Newton, believing that he was about to kiss his best friend. This just made things so weird. Alfred began to withdraw, knowing that now wasn't the best time, but he felt Florence's hand on the back of his neck, pulling him back in. Now all he could think about was her. The way she smiled, and made him feel at ease, like he was a normal person, not some awkward, nerdy boy who was always the last one to be picked at school. She made him feel special and wanted. She made this whole haze of a place, just a little bit clearer.

"Finally!" The spell Florence and Alfred had been under as they kissed was swiftly broken, by the choked shouts of Lya, who sat propped against the outer wall of the Cornucopia, sorting their food supplies into bags. All the supplies the tributes had left had been counted and divided evenly amongst the seven of them, with Alfred, Florence, Lya and Ezra choosing to group together. "If you too waited any longer to get it on I would have died of anticipation rather than organ failure."

Salome and Locke

"Salome you have to talk to me." Locke had been following his daughter around all morning, watching as she prepared for the Labyrinth as best as she could. There were things, from a survival perspective, that Locke would have done differently, but he knew the last thing his daughter wanted was him to critique her, especially in the state their relationship was now."I made a mistake, okay, I know that what I did was wrong."

"A mistake?" Salome let out a blunt laugh, stopping and turning to face her father, looking at him for the first time since they had all been reunited. "A mistake is putting my white dress in with a dark wash or… or… smashing a mug. A mistake is not, hmm, lets see, choosing not to save a girl, then killing an old man, then killing a girl, then kidnapping a boy, then killing ANOTHER girl, then forcing someone to kill another man. That's not a mistake, Locke, that's a fucking psychopath."

The way Salome had called him Locke made his blood run cold. No matter what fight they had been in, and there had been no shortage of them at home, he had always been dad. He shuddered at the thought of never hearing her call that again, and suddenly, everything he had done and fought for and earnt seemed completely pointless. Locke had always known the way to get his daughter to like him and stay with him wasn't through murder, he was sure that was like… parenting tip number one. But many of the things Locke had done through the Games hadn't been so he could stay in his child's good books, it was to make her closer to being the last one left. The more people Locke killed before death eventually caught up with him, the less people Salome would have to kill after he was gone. He had never thought she would have liked the plan, but to hate Locke the way she did now was something he had never intended. All the man could do was constantly remind himself that as long as she survived, it didn't matter what she thought about him.

"Salome." Locke tried his best, and failed to hide the emotion from his voice, completely broken knowing that he had lost the person he cared most about in the world, with little chance of ever winning her back. "You don't have to forgive me. But you have to talk to me, we have to work together." He grabbed onto her arm, tighter than he had been anticipating, causing the girl to spin round in shock. "Look at them-" He motioned to the alliance of four in by the water. "They're stronger than they look, the last thing we need is to be alone and get caught off guard."

"I'm not alone." Salome snatched her arm back, looking her father up and down, venom in her eyes. "I don't need you anymore." She turned, walking swiftly back towards the Cornucopia, where Jordan stood holding the packs he had prepared for the both of them.

Into the Labyrinth

The tributes had forged some kind of truce. Most of them knew it wouldn't last for the remainder of the Games, and they all still held their weapons close to them, but it at least made the atmosphere a little less tense. There would be no dinner parties between the group any time soon, but this way, they could focus more on what the Labyrinth had to offer, than the vendettas they had against one another.

Jordan entered first, Salome by his side, the pair trying to pretend that they weren't nervous, but fooling no one. Next, came Florence and Alfred, their hands joined loosely to one another, Alfred staying close to Florence to help her walk on her wounded ankle, but knowing that she was giving him as much strength and help as he was to her. Ezra and Lya followed close behind, the younger girl now strong enough to take a few steps at a time, but for the most part, Ezra had resumed carrying her. And finally, came Locke, keeping as much distance from his daughter as possible, protecting them from behind from anything the maze had to offer, advancing forward every few minutes to help Ezra as he struggled along.
There were no bets as to who would make it out of this alive, no one knew what was to come. Locke, Jordan and Salome were the obvious choices, they had the physical strength to prevail, and two out of the three weren't afraid to get their hands dirty to do so. But they were lacking in the intelligence and mental strength that Alfred, Florence and Ezra held. Together, the team should have been unstoppable.

The walls of the Labyrinth stretched so high they seemed to be never ending, covered in stones and bricks and ivy. Jordan had already tried climbing them, to get to the top and look over what awaited them, but after around five minutes, they all realised it was a rewardless task. Instead, they set about the mundane task of walking. At first, they had stopped at every twist and turn, debating which way to go, but soon the arguments that broke out were fragmenting the group more than they had been already. Now, they took it in turns to decide which way to go. It never mattered which way they chose- none of the tributes knew what awaited them behind any corner.

"This is all they have to offer?" Jordan scoffed, as they stopped for their first break of the day, settling down in a small clearing, after about two hours of walking. Jordan was becoming more and more frustrated at the slow speed they were taking. He knew that alone, he would already be out the other side by now. "Come on!" He shouted. "This is supposed to be torture for us!"

Lya, on the other hand, was feeling the effects of the Labyrinth more than anyone. Although they had faced no attacks, her very worst fears had already been presented to her. Ezra was changing the bandages on her burns for the third time that day, when Lya placed her hand over his, forcing him to stop. "Ezra. Let me go."

He swatted her away, continuing to sanitise the area around her wounds. "Don't be stupid. All we have to do is make it through the next few days, and then we're out of it all, you can be in a real hospital."

"Ezra, no." Lya rolled away from him, gasping and wincing as pain seared through her body. "This is it, my fears, that I have to overcome." independence had always been the quality Lya had admired most in herself. Her whole life she had been surrounded by people that loved her and cared for her, and as much as she had appreciated that, she had never needed it. Even after the accident that had cost Lya her arm, she bounced back to her usual self, doing things alone, and making a life for herself without having to rely on others. She loved the freedom it entailed, the adventure, the ability to live life however she wanted, to take risks and make decisions, the consequence that only she was responsible for. And now? She had none of that, just a shell of the person she had been when she entered the Games. She was a burden, the thing she feared becoming more than anything else in the world. She was holding the others back relying on them for survival. And if she did survive, what kind of life awaited her? A life of surgeries, of moving between hospitals? Of being bed ridden or wheelchair bound, a team of carers surrounding her at every second? Every time a thought like that had entered her mind over the last few days she had pushed it away, but now, as she sat propped against the wall, the pitying eyes of the other tributes bearing down on her, Lya was forced to face the fact that her life just wasn't worth living anymore. The Capitol had done all of this without even trying, for a second, Lya admired them.
And the way to overcome her fear of being a burden, to stop being the person that restricted everyone else?
"You all need to leave me here." She nodded slowly, making eye contact with Florence, knowing the girl had always known that this was the way it would end for Lya.

"Lya, stop being silly." Ezra protested, exactly as the girl knew he would.

"Ezra, look at me." She shrugged, forgetting how much pain it caused her. "I can't breath without feeling like my whole chest is being ripped apart. I'm holding you all back, you'll be able to move so much quicker without me. I don't want to be the one that ends up getting someone else killed because they're looking out for me, it's not fair."

"Well, it seems like she's made up her mind. Nice knowing you, girl." Jordan swung the backpack over his shoulders, turning away from the group.

"Hey." Ezra shouted. "Hey." Louder this time, and Jordan finally turned round. Ezra walked up to the taller male, raising his fist and punching Jordan straight in the face. Much to Ezra's surprise, the other man just took it, no fight back, or shouting, or even a sarcastic comment. Jordan knew he had gone to far, what he had said wasn't in a spiteful way. He was friends, or as close as Jordan would allow himself to get to friends, with Lya, their night dancing on Capitol tables one of his fondest to date. He liked her and was sad about her decision, not that he would ever let anyone know that.

"Yes!" Lya shouted, laughing. "Now that's what I wanted to see just before I die. You may have just made my life, Ezra."

The doctor walked back over to Lya, sitting down next to her. "This is really what you want?"

She took his hand, running her thumb over the back of it and nodding. "This is what I have to do."

Florence walked over now, embracing Lya is a quick hug, knowing she would break down if she held her for any longer. "You're the best friend I could ever have asked for. I love you."

Locke heard it first, and quickly alerted the group. It didn't sound that far off, the distant howling of the mutt pack getting closer and closer by the second. None of the group were particularly keen to have to fight how ever many animals were approaching them, and almost in sync, they had all grabbed their belongings ready to head off.
Ezra crouched down, wrapping his arms around Lya, preparing to lift her up, as she shook him off.

"Oh, come on!" He exclaimed. "You'll be ripped apart."

"We agreed that you were going to leave me here."

"Lya, there's a big difference between leaving you here and knowing you are going to be ripped apart by wolves if I do so." Ezra protested, their commotion causing some of the other tributes to stop their preparations and move focus to the District Six pair. Florence hadn't moved the entire time. Alfred had been rushing around her, trying desperately to get her ready to leave, now though, he just stood holding her as she sobbed into his chest, the loss and the pain of knowing she would be the last of her alliance to live becoming too much. She wished she had the confidence to stay behind with Lya, to make sure that she wasn't alone in her final moments, but Florence knew she was a coward through and through, too scared to be separated from the group, or to watch a person she cared about so deeply die.

"It's what I want to do. Please, just go, I'll distract them as long as I can." Lya was practically begging now, pain from the open wounds on her chest that she had stopped Ezra from bandaging stung throughout her entire body. "They can probably smell my blood, so you need to get moving."

Jordan didn't need to be told twice, and he set off leading the pack, Salome and Locke close behind. Florence gave one last look at Lya, the girl sending her a sad, grateful smile, before she walked off following the others, still crying and leaning against Alfred.

Ezra and Lya

"What the hell are you doing?" Lya spat, as Ezra sat down next to her, the other tributes disappearing round the corner.

"What does it look like I'm doing? An Irish jig? I can do that if you want, but I can assure you it's not a pretty sight." Ezra raised his eye brow at her, preparing to stand up, before Lya placed her hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to stay sitting "I'm staying with you. You said it yourself, you're close to death, these mutts must like something a bit fresher, no offence. I can fight, kind of, I hold them off so the others can get away." Ezra exclaimed, swinging a machete around with little skill, Lya wincing as the blade sliced inches away from her leg.

"Oh come on! You ruined my big heroic action." Lya threw her hands in the air in mock annoyance, despite the smile on her face. Lya would never have admitted how scared she was, not just of death, or what awaited her beyond this place, but of meaning nothing, and achieving nothing. She had visions of the mutts just walking straight past her, her death being meaningless because she had failed to help save the tributes that she loved. With Ezra her, things felt clearer, they felt safer, even if the same fate still awaited her. "You have a wife and child, Ezra, what the hell are you doing?" Lya argued pointlessly, knowing that nothing she would say could ever change Ezra's mind.

"I ran through a fire with you." He laughed, remembering the pain of yesterday. All he was focused on was staying alive for one second more, helping Lya, getting her out unharmed. He had failed so terribly at that, the wounds she had suffered yesterday ruining any chance she could have had at survival. "That's bonded us for life." Ezra joked, trying to make light of a situation that seemed so impossibly dire.

"Ahh cool I've always wanted to be part of a club! The Fire Gang. Can we get T-Shirts and badges and matching key rings?!" Lya giggled slightly, stopping immediately as the burns across her chest began to open up, shots of agony engulfing any previous happiness she had felt.

"And away from our super secret club, you got me thinking." He shrugged, reaching out to take her hand, holding it tight. "Nothing they could throw at me in here is worse than anything I've already faced. My worst fear is failing my patients, of giving up on someone or seeing that they're past saving, of not being able to convince them to fight." Ezra smiled sadly, his speech paused by another ear-splitting howl, so much closer than the one just moments before. "I couldn't save Nautilus, I couldn't protect Ronin, or Lana and Clem, and I couldn't make you fight and keep going. The only way to face that and to fight it is to make sure I'm doing something to help the others, and to be there for you in your decision."

"We go out the way we started this- together."

"Oh come on Lya, the last thing I need is you going soft on me in our final moments." But still, Ezra squeezed Lya's hand tight, clinging on to her so desperately, as the first mutt turned the corner, snarling at the pair. "Come on, you bastards."

Still sitting, unable to leave Lya's side, Ezra slashed the blade, cutting straight across the animal's chest as it pounced on them, blood and guts covering him. "Holy shit." He gasped, almost laughing at the sight. His victory was short-lived as he turned to see two more mutts advancing, tearing into Lya's chest, the girl screaming as the wounds already on her chest were stretched further apart. Ezra shot up ready to fight them, but was pulled back down, Lya still clinging desperately to his hand.

She looked at him and smiled, despite the animals tearing away at her. "Please don't leave me." She whispered, as the first mutt turned their attention to Ezra.

He nodded, raising the hand with the machete to cut down the wolf, but the animal was quicker, clamping its jaws tight on Ezra's arm, ripping the limb clean off. The man was too shocked and pain stricken to scream, now completely useless and defenseless. He gripped Lya's hand tighter, turning to look into her eyes one final time, but it was too late.

Lya's head rested against the wall behind them, her eyes dead and unresponsive, her hand so cold. Still, Ezra couldn't bring himself to let go, it was his last bit of comfort. A second mutt, now bored with Lya's body, turned its attention to him.

"Sigrid, Hannah, Little Ginsberg to be, I love you." He whispered, hoping that his family would know that in his last moments, they were all he could think about. Ezra closed his eyes, just as the mutt ripped into his chest.

Nightfall

The remainder of the day had passed without any more casualties. The mutt pack had eventually caught up with the group, but Jordan, Locke and Salome made quick work of hacking them down. If Alfred wasn't so focused on caring for Florence, he would have been more wary of that- the others had just saved them, they were now in debt, and Alfred knew that was something you never wanted to be, especially to people as… unhinged at Locke and Jordan.
The loss of Lya and Ezra had hit the group hard. Lya always knew how to make people smile, or turn an almost dire situation on its head, and Ezra was undeniably one of the kindest people any of them had ever met. No one had known Ezra's sacrificial plan to stay behind, but that was probably what he had wanted, Florence knew she would have done everything in her power to make sure he stuck with them. Ezra wasn't a fighter, but he was smart and determined and knew how to motivate the group and sometimes, that was more useful than the physical strength some of the other tributes provided.

They settled down, just as darkness consumed the arena, the day had already been filled with such loss, the last thing they needed was to keep going in the dark, facing the already unknown dangers with only the light of the few torches they had was something none of them wished to do.
Alfred had proposed he and Florence should take the first watch, in repayment for the others fighting earlier. He had always been wary of people on the outside world, the feelings only heightened in here, at least this way he was working towards easing the debt that he owed them.

"Do you think the stars are real?" Florence asked, as she lay backwards on the blanket layed out beneath her, her voice barely above a whisper, so as not to wake the others. The last thing they needed was an angry sleep deprived Locke on their hands. "Or has the Capitol made them?"

Alfred settled down beside her, propping his head up on one arm and taking Florence's hand in his. "Either way they're beautiful."

"I used to spend hours in this field, right by my house just staring at the stars and sketching them, but never did they look like this." She sighed, turning to the side to face Alfred.

"When we get out of here, will you draw me something?" He asked, brushing a piece of hair out of Florence's face, cringing at the cliche moment, and wondering just where his confidence had come from.

Florence hated this talk, she hated thinking about the outside world, if she dwelled on it too much, thought about what she could have, what she could be doing, the life she could live, it made everything the tiniest bit harder. It didn't encourage her to fight, it had her feel defeated, she often didn't focus on it happening, but how bad she would feel if it was all snatched away. Now more than ever the chances of getting out of here seemed impossible. Lya had been strong and powerful and positive, even with her injuries Florence had no doubt the girl would have made it to the end. And if even Lya couldn't make it, what the hell chance did she have? Whatever life she imagined with Alfred would never happen. But still she smiled, and lent in and kissed him.
"I'll draw you anything you want." She spoke softly against his lips. "Unless it's a tree. I never want to see another tree again."

Tributes Graveyard

7th Place: Lya Chapman (D6F)- Damnnnnnnn, writing Lya out of the story was really difficult, I couldn't find a fitting death and at one point, she was going to win. I don't think she would have ever put herself in a position to be killed by another tribute and she had the skills to fight her way out of many situations, so I decided to do something long and drawn out across a few days of the Games that ended with her choosing death. She was headstrong and independent, so I thought it was really fitting that she got to be in control of her life and what happened right up to the very end. I loved writing her interactions with other characters, and I will greatly miss doing that.

6th Place: Ezra Ginsberg (D6M)- One of my favourites :( Ezra could never have won, no matter how much I may have wanted him to, simply because even if he got to the final two, he would never let himself kill another person, even if they were the spawn of Satan. The only way he could win was through chance (so like, the 2nd place tribute being killed by mutts so he won) and some of the other tributes like Jordan and Locke would never let that happen to them. Knowing this, I thought it was right that he died trying to save the others, no matter how much it pained me to write.

Okay so the whole Ezra/Lya death bit reminds me of THAT scene in Supernatural season five, you know (no spoilers) with the hell hounds and the shop? If you know, you know.

Anyway... we are down to the final five tributes, and its a very mixed bunch, most of which I had no idea would make it this far. And, I finally have my plan sorted for the end of the Games, I know the winner or winners oooooohhh spicy, and have a great epilogue planned out for what happens to them after, which, I'll admit, I have already started writing despite still being a little way away. I'm really worried about whole Games thing getting really repetitive, as I still have a few more days planned out. So if you would rather I combine some stuff and make it a little shorter, then just let me know and I'll work something out!

Thank you so much for continuing to read and I hope everyone is doing well!

Until next time,

Alice xxx