Day two, night.

ALTHEA BIACHI, DISTRICT THREE FEMALE

The startling blast of the anthem makes me jump, and Val even turns her head a little bit. We've gone right back out to the wall where we slept last night, since it seemed to work pretty well. And the fresh air is nice.

We watch in silence as the girl from Five, the boy from Eleven, and Gareth appear in the night sky. Only three today, compared with the nine from yesterday. Still, we're halfway home.

As the anthem fades, Val murmurs something.

"What was that? You're fucking mumbling."

"I said, how are you feeling?"

"I don't know. Sweaty. Annoyed. I miss my toothbrush and my personal bathroom."

She smiles weakly, clearly struggling to hold her eyes open. I've been trying to keep her from falling asleep on me all evening, but now it's night. I'm getting tired too, I can't keep babying her. "What about Gareth?"

"What about him? He hurt you. He's dead now."

"You killed him."

Well, she doesn't have to say it like that. So blunt. "It's fine. I'm fine. He was a stranger. It's survival."

"He was nice."

"And he gave you a fucking concussion! Don't go soft on me, Val." I wish she wouldn't talk about him that way. Thinking about him as nice just makes it worse. If I can picture him as a lunging attacker, it doesn't feel so… weird. But if he's just a boy who was nice… well, what does that make me?

"I'm always softer than you, Althea."

I roll my eyes. "Good to see you've still got jokes even though you're concussed, Miss Volunteer."

"I never expected to go home," she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed again. I reach out and nudge her with my foot, and she opens them again. "Right. No napping."

"Never expected to go home? Bitch, what?"

"It was always about keeping Marie from dying, not about me. I'm not like… them." She gestures vaguely towards the edge of the wall, and I get the point. She's trying to motion towards the Careers down in the courtyard.

"Don't I know it." My eye is still painfully swollen from my run-in with Shelby during the bloodbath. Val says it's a black eye, but I haven't had access to a mirror in two days so I wouldn't properly know, would I?

We sit in silence for a while before I get bored. I'm still not quite sleepy.

"Val?"

There's no response. I nudge my ally, and then shove her. All she does is slump over. Shit.

"Val, wake up?"

No response. She's breathing normally, if a little shallow. But no response.

A lump in my throat makes it impossible to swallow my fear. What are my options? Go to sleep and hope she's alive in the morning? It's not like she's going to be better. I've gotten concussions a couple times, from workout mishaps and from getting slammed a little too forcefully into the headboard of some random guy's bed. At best it's a mood killer that feels like a week-long hangover, and at worse it's a hospital trip and brain damage. And if Val isn't responsive… well, I'm leaning towards the latter. And there's no fucking hospital. I'm not about to sacrifice myself and drag Val through the Games just to die at the last second and let her get the help she needs. I want to fucking win.

What does that leave? Ditch her in the night, fend for myself? And what if she does pull herself together and sleep the worst of it off? I'd be enemy number one, for abandoning her just like everyone else in her sorry life apparently has.

Or…

My hand drifts down and traces the edge of my sword's blade. No. I can't entertain an idea like that, I'm not horrible. I always hate seeing people turn on each other so early in the Games. Like, if you made an alliance, why not be a grown up and stick with it for more than a day? Maybe I hate it because my parents always said they liked that strategy- team up with competitors only to take them out as soon as possible.

But this isn't the same. Val's injured. She doesn't stand a chance. Besides, it would save me the trouble of having to worry about actually betraying her later on. This… this is an easy way out, on her part. She's literally sleeping right now.

She never expected to go home, anyway.

Was that her way of telling me it was ok to let her go? To… help her leave, even? I can only think in euphemisms. Even then, it's dark.

Maybe it means her feelings wouldn't be as hurt if she knew what I was thinking.

Maybe I'll give her another chance. I call her name again and shake her, but she still doesn't wake up. In my mind, that makes it official. She's dead weight. And I need to survive for myself. My hand tightens around the hilt of the sword, and I look at Val. She's vulnerable, relaxed. And drooling, ew.

I have to. Don't I? It's merciful, in a way. Better now with me, than later with someone who won't care about making it quick.

I make a quick deal with myself. If she wakes up or starts getting responsive, I'll stop. I'll stop and I'll take care of her for as long as I can safely do so. But if she doesn't move or say anything… that's my green light.

I stand up, making a little too much noise, and take Val by the shoulders to adjust her position. Supporting her lolling head, I lay her down on the stones, carefully aligning her neck and shoulders with the rest of her spine.

I cough a couple times. Still no response from my ally.

She never expected to go home.

I tilt her chin in the right way, just like the trainer showed us, and place my sword at her throat. I hope the cold metal will wake her, but nothing happens. She'll never know what hit her. It's as peaceful as anyone in the Games could ask for, really. That's good, right? That's a good thing to do?

My hands are shaking, and I take a deep breath before gripping the sword with renewed force. I'm not betraying her if she didn't plan to survive in the first place. This is as close as it comes to mercy. Gareth gave her the concussion, not me. I wouldn't do this if she could still hold her own.

She's not a deranged, faceless attacker. She's not a stranger. What am I thinking?

I'm thinking about myself. Damn the consequences, I'll figure it out later.

I strike and the cannon fires almost immediately. Val's eyes don't even open.

I don't stay long enough to watch the color drain from her face; I run around the corner so I don't have to watch the hovercraft come and pick her up. When the carrier does arrive, a parachute also descends, landing a couple feet away from me.

Food. A prize. For killing Val? For being on my own?

I can't let it get to me. I can't think about it. I have to stay strong.

CAELLE LOVAGE, DISTRICT TWO FEMALE

I feel my eyes begin to droop and pinch myself to snap them back open. I am not falling back asleep. Whoever that cannon belonged to, it's ruining my night. My peace. My plan.

Andros is out on watch, but I'm watching too, in my own way. I know the cannon woke Eliana, just like it did me, and I can't let myself fall asleep before she does. And she's still breathing too erratically and moving too much on her cot to be sleeping. She wanted to get up and fucking chat after the cannon fired—she was all 'who could it have been?' and 'who do you think is out there killing each other besides us?'. Absolutely not. No small talk, not tonight, and especially not with that sadist.

I dig my nail deeper into the skin of my forearm, gritting my teeth as I feel the tiny, sharp pain. This is just another competition. And I'm the best. That's what I'd tell everyone—Caelle Lovage is the best one at staying awake in this group! It sounds so silly when I boast like that, even in my own head. I'm here. I've made it. I have proof: three kills and a solid leadership of the alliance. Even Andros defers to me, and none of the others question my judgment. With evidence like this, I no longer need to convince anyone of anything. No silly competitions, just cold hard facts. I cringe at the memories of being such a tryhard in the past. No need for any of that anymore.

As I pull myself out of my own head and back to the present, I see Eliana's breathing deepen and even out. Perfect. Just a little while longer, to let her sleep deepen, and then I can move on from watching her. Watching my back.

Eliana sighs in her sleep and curls up into a little ball. It makes her look a lot younger, more vulnerable. Good. That kind of vulnerability is exactly what we need around here.

I hope I don't look that weak when I sleep. And if I do, I hope no one else has noticed.

Once enough time has passed, I slowly sit up and inch my legs over the side of the cot until I've got my feet on the ground. Then I stand, holding the frame steady with my hands so it doesn't creak as I move. I have no intention of waking Eliana back up and then faking sleep for another half-hour.

Cyrus and Shelby are both dead to the world on the floor, sleeping like mongrels on the flagstones. I don't know how they do it, to be honest.

I take my swords from their resting place and hold one in each hand so they don't chime against each other, then slip out the door to join Andros outside. He sees me as soon as I leave the little guardhouse, and we huddle out of earshot from the others. Just in case.

"Are they all asleep?" Andros mutters. "It's been all quiet out here."

"Soundly. Are you ready?"

"Of course. You?"

"Ditto, obviously. We've talked this plan to death." After we girls returned from hunting today, I had pulled Andros aside during dinner, determined to make some necessary adjustments to the alliance.

Andros nods solemnly. For this, he's traded his signature knife for a battle-axe, which he left out here before we all went to sleep. The best tool for the job and all that. Tonight, we're taking no chances.

We steal back to the guardhouse where I've left the door ajar. If any of the others woke up when I left, they'll have assumed it was a changing of the watch or I just needed to piss in the corner of the courtyard we designated as toilet. Unpleasant, but at least we don't have to sit in our own filth.

Back in the room, nobody has moved. We step over Cyrus to move into place, still careful not to kick or bump any of our supplies. Luckily, the supple uniform boots are soft and quiet on the stone floor.

Eliana's still curled up on her bed. She really does look a lot younger asleep—but I remind myself, it's not about how she looks but about what she's done. The brutality of it all, and her unpredictable attitude. She looks sweet but she abused her partner and bashed Mary Sue Jamison past the point of recognition. She can't be trusted.

I glance over at Andros. He nods, and we raise our weapons.

Then, Shelby rolls over on the floor, splaying her foot out and kicking Cyrus in the small of the back. Hr grunts and begins to protest blearily.

Eliana stirs. Andros makes eye contact with me.

"Fuck it. Now!" I hiss, plunging my sword into Eliana's belly. I'm a little off, but it's hard to gauge important organs when your target is in the fetal position.

She screams, bolting awake and reaching for her spear. I knock it out of reach and pull my sword out of her.

"What the fuck! What have you done!" she explodes, writhing on her cot and spouting blood. I rear back and stab her again, this time deep through the chest. A spurt of blood comes up through her mouth. "Fuck! Fuck you, Caelle!"

I look to Andros, who readies his axe. We talked about this- it's my kill, so he doesn't deal with the negative audience response for killing a district partner. But he's ready to assist at any second.

Eliana gasps, and I can hear the gurgle of blood in her lungs. "Why?" she cries, her anger becoming plaintive fear.

"You couldn't be trusted, you bitch." I spit out calmly.

Andros adds his own reason. "You know why. Adrienne."

Eliana's face morphs into a familiar mask of rage and she reaches one pitiful hand out towards Andros, but he brings the axe down, severing her head from her shoulders in one blow.

The cannon fires, and our alliance no longer has a wild card.

Andros and I turn around to face the fallout. Cyrus and Shelby are both sit on the floor, cowering in the corner of the room with mouths hanging open.

"What the fuck-" Shelby manages.

"Any questions?" I say. Andros starts to head back outside, but Cyrus leaps up and stops him. "Don't bother, Cyrus. You don't need to defend Eliana."

"She was basically going down the same road as Shark," Andros reasons to Cyrus, "and we know that Shark was too dangerous for his own good, wasn't he?"

Cyrus backs down, and I hide a smirk. Andros passed the news that Cyrus was the one to kill the boy from Four on to me. Shelby's the only one who hasn't figured it out now.

CYRUS AUGUSTIN, DISTRICT TWO MALE

Andros' cold eyes seem to pierce me all the way through as he compares Eliana to Shark. He's shutting me up in front of Shelby, making sure I comply.

Luckily, Shelby steps up. "Duh, Shark was awful, I was his district partner if you don't recall. But what did Eliana do to deserve that kind of betrayal, you monsters? How do we know you aren't planning to do the same to me once I fall back asleep? Or Cyrus? Or each other?"

Caelle sighs, twirling her sword. "I don't recall anyone left alive in this room bashing another tribute to pieces during the bloodbath or taunting our targets every time we hunt. Eliana was a liability, and we needed her out of the way as soon as possible. Plus, now you don't have to worry about her going rogue and attacking you later, which is what probably was going to happen."

I can't imagine the witty, social Eliana from training doing that… but it's surprisingly easy to picture the Eliana from the bloodbath turning her force on anyone who displeased her. I never saw her taunt someone on a hunt, but I was never around her to see a death happen. Only Caelle and Shelby ever saw any of that.

"Still," I protest, "In her sleep? And I bet we could each come up with a reason to dispose of everyone else in the room if we really wanted. Whether it be 'too much of a threat' or 'not useful enough'!"

"It was the surest way to get rid of her. It worked, didn't it? No harm done to anyone else."

Andros has a point there. I wouldn't have wanted to fight Eliana head on and risk losing.

"Besides," Caelle continues, "the four of us work really well together. Cyrus, we're district partners, and that's a bond I have no intentions of breaking. And Shelby, you really proved yourself earlier with Loren! We're still a team, we just had to kick out the troubling one. Now we're functional."

"If we wanted you dead, we could have killed you, too. But Caelle and I both focused all our energy on Eliana."

He's right, but I still don't trust him. Or at least, trust him even less than I used to. He may see me as less of a coward, but he's just proven that he's willing to use Shark's death against me.

Maybe I should tell Shelby about that sometime soon. The idea of blackmail is not a pleasant one.

Shelby is shaking like a leaf, and I instinctively wrap an arm around her shoulders. She presses into my side.

Caelle's face softens a little. "I know it's a hard pill to swallow, but Eliana was a bad person that we needed to get rid of. It's one step closer to the Games being over, if you think about it. She was going crazy, and she was physically abusive to her partner even back in One." I look to Andros for verification and he nods.

Shit. Well… I can't say I blame them quite as much as I did five minutes ago. Unless they're lying. But I doubt that. It makes sense, honestly, thinking about how Eliana would clam up when we talked about home and how she acted with Mary Sue.

Caelle puts a friendly hand on my shoulder, and I control the urge to push her off. "It's a lot, I get it. How about this as a gesture of good will: tomorrow, Andros and I will do the hunting and the two of you can stay back and relax? Take some time to chill?"

"I have been deeply ready to go hunting again now that my wounds are doing a bit better," Andros says. Shelby and I nod quickly. The hierarchy is painfully clear- two pairs, the hunters and the cowards. But still, Caelle sees us as a team, and I'll take what I can get.

"All right!" Caelle claps her hands. "Now that that's settled, let's clear this body out and get back to sleep. Cyrus, a little help?"

I grimace, trying to avoid making eye contact with Eliana's severed head. Luckily, Andros strolls over to that and grabs it by the hair without even flinching. Caelle grabs Eliana's feet, leaving me to deal with her bloody top half. Thanks, district partner. I take hold of the two arms, trying to tell myself that her neck isn't an oozing stump, and we shuffle the body out of the guard house, tossing it into the courtyard for the hovercraft to collect.

I think Andros secretly relishes the feeling of unceremoniously throwing Eliana's head by her blonde hair into the grass as he goes to resume his watch.

"And look at that! There's an extra bed now!" Caelle says. Shelby and I take one look at the blood-soaked cot and both know that we will continue to sleep on the floor. "I'm gonna clean my blade and then head to bed."

The second she steps out of the room, leaving Shelby and me alone, we gasp like we haven't been able to breathe. Shelby tips her head back, trying not to cry. "What the fuck was that?" she whimpers.

"I feel like I'm in hell," I mutter, pulling her into a hug that she reciprocates with a squeeze so tight I can barely breathe. "We can't trust them at all."

"I don't want to be here anymore!" she wails into my chest. I nod, resting my chin in her hair. "Cyrus, you're the only person I'm sure doesn't want me dead."

"You got that right," I say, actively ignoring the fact that there's only one Victor. "We can only trust each other."

Shelby pulls back and looks at me, eyes wide. "Cy, what the fuck are we gonna do now?"

MALEK TREVELIAN, DISTRICT SEVEN MALE

"Two cannons in half an hour? What's happening out there?" Inaya whispers. I groggily roll over and turn to face her, watching the shadows from the torches on the wall flicker across her face.

"Whatever it is, it takes us two more bodies closer to going home."

She nods, setting her mouth in a grim line before sitting up and leaning against one of the sacks of grain. We've made our way to what must be the bottom floor of the castle, discovering a solid stone room filled with supplies. It's all close to being useful without actually helping us at all; sacks of grain and corn and flour don't equal bread. That being said, it's more comfortable than the cramped bathroom we slept in last night.

"Can't sleep?" I ask. Inaya nods again, resting her hand carefully over the wound in her belly. "Me neither. With all the cannons going off and these damn always-lit torches, it's hard to relax!"

"Not to mention the fact that we're in the Games?" Inaya teases gently.

I sigh. "That too, but I didn't really want to think about it."

Sitting here with Inaya reminds me of when my dad had just been arrested for insider trading and my sister Maven and I were trying to decipher the new world of shame we found ourselves in. The first night in our 'poor house', as my mother so sensitively called it, Maven had come into my room at night and we both stared out my window for ages, just trying to get used to the different view. The lights had flickered that night, too, but due to poor electricity and not firelight. Maven had been the one to state the facts bluntly, while I was still dancing around the idea of being abandoned by my friends and status-symbol classmates.

I catch Inaya looking at the knife on my belt again, probably the hundredth time since we got it. "Does it bother you?"

"What?"

"Does the knife bother you?"

She gnaws on her lip before nodding slowly. Without a second thought, I pull it from my belt and toss it away, letting it skitter across the stones to rest on the other side of the room. "We have it, but it's ours, not mine or yours. We can get it quick if we hear someone coming. And I promise, I'm not going to use it against you."

She nods but doesn't smile. Her eyes don't quite meet mine.

Suddenly, a blast of heat comes from the other side of the large storeroom, and one of the sacks leaning against the far wall bursts into flame. Inaya shrieks and I leap to my feet. There's no sign of any person down here! I grab one of the empty burlap bags that I was using as a blanket and run towards the fire, trying to beat it out. Eventually, I succeed, and the blackened grain and scorch marks on stone are the remnants of the small conflagration.

Dripping with sweat, I turn back to Inaya. "What the hell was that?"

"We nearly went up in-"

"Shh!" Among the heaps of supply bags and crates, I hear a rustling noise, a susurrus of scratching and brushing against stone.

"It sounds like mice, Malek."

"It's too big to be a mouse. Believe me, my house had plenty of mice." Once upon a time, the familiarity with rodents would have disgusted me and I would turn my nose up, but I've come to terms with the connection between poverty and pests.

Inaya gets to her feet and follows a few paces behind me as I creep towards the mound of supplies in the back of the room. What am I hearing? What creature is down here?

I remember earlier, in the kitchen, when Inaya said she thought she saw something move when the fireplace burst into flame. Is there something starting fires in here aside from just the Gamemakers trying to jumpstart action?

Why have we seen two fires? Is it following us?

A chill goes down my spine and I leap forward, dragging away the first sack. Inaya screams. "I saw something! A tail!"

I drop the bag and look, but there's nothing there. "Inaya, what did you see? Tell me!"

"It was a shadowy thing, I couldn't see much because it disappeared into the pile! It- I don't know, it looked long?"

The same moving shape she thought she saw in the kitchen.

And yet, no specifics.

I glance over at the knife on the floor, wondering if I should put it in my pouch or something. "I don't know if there's anything there. Maybe the rustling was just a rat."

"But- I saw- I think-"

"Do you really want to go digging for trouble right now?" It comes out a little sharper than I meant it to, and Inaya recoils like she's been shocked. "Oh… I'm sorry, Inaya. I'm really sorry, I'm just tired and stressed."

"Yeah, Malek, I know. I do. It's a lot to handle," she says quietly. I can tell that she's putting on some sort of mask to hide the hurt, though- I'm very familiar with that kind of thing.

"It's okay, I promise."

"I think we should try and go back to sleep. Maybe a little closer to the door, though."

I shut up and nod, letting her lead the way back towards our stuff. I try to find a new empty sack to use as a blanket since I used my other one to smother the fire.

When I settle in, Inaya is curled up facing away from me, and the knife has been collected from the middle of the floor.

Which is worse- Inaya picking it up and not telling me, or some shadowy mutt stealing it?

12th: Val Wang. Firedawn, thank you for your submission.

11th: Eliana Schaefer. Alison, thank you for your submission.

Things are HAPPENING, folks! A shorter chapter but a real wild one in my onion!

Deaths are getting painful now. For me, I mean. Congratulations to the top ten: Andros, Caelle, Cyrus, Althea, Shelby, Kepler, Malek, Inaya, Sharif, and Calandra. Top eight is closing in fast, and honestly this whole story is kind of rocketing forward in terms of pace. Next chapter is the start of the third day in the arena and we're already down to ten tributes, and I don't really plan for the Games to last more than five days. Sometimes, things simply move fast!

It's difficult to pick and choose what POVs to focus on sometimes. That's one of the downsides of writing first person for me, since getting into more than four or five mindsets per Games chapter can be exhausting to write and/or read. My scholarly background in playwriting and performance means that I'm really looking at how the arena story as a whole forms and what scenes are absolutely necessary to tell that larger arc, rather than trying to hit each tribute every so often (although I am making a concerted effort to be sure everyone is at least featured every chapter/every other chapter). Obviously as more people die, the more we'll hear from everyone remaining.

Questions:

Do you think the Capitol likes longer or shorter Games?

Which filler are you missing the most right now?

Any predictions for the future?

Drop a review and let me know! And take care out there, I'm thinking of y'all!