A/N: I am such a terrible person, I am so sorry! I could apologize for years about not being able to post anything for such a long time. However, school is finally out and I have my time finally freed up. I took off so much time this summer because I was just exhausted from life and school, and I have about two weeks until the crazy cycle resumes. I had to come back to this story. Most of you are probably gone, and with good reason, but I hope those of you that still are here will enjoy this chapter and the others I manage to get out. I really missed all of you and I hope I can get back into this story along with you. :)

Carmen Ionique-Astron, 17

District Twelve Female

I groan and toss in my sleep, unable to keep my eyes closed for long. Yesterday I slept fitfully, and it's the same tonight. Paranoia races through my veins as every couple of minutes my eyes flick open, surveying the area around me fearfully. Sometimes, I almost expect to see Chavez leaning over me, grinning as he dangles a dagger above my throat. However, mostly I keep waking up, trying not to cry as I look around frantically for a moment for my infant son. I see his cute, pudgy face in my mind's eye every time I awake, and I have to stifle the tears that crowd into my eyes.

This time, I can't force myself to close my eyes again. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon, yet I'm still cold and shivering. Chavez deemed me unfit to sleep in the center of the Cornucopia with the Careers, and all they gave me was a ratty blanket that just makes me dirty and provides almost no warmth. I guess I should be thankful they haven't killed me yet, but I don't feel any graciousness within me. All I feel is yearning sadness, my broken heart wishing I was holding my baby in my arms while my other kids and Aris were crowding around me back in Twelve. I just wish I could go home, but I know I can't. I just have to stay here, and do whatever the Careers ask of me. Running away will be pointless; they keep someone on guard at all hours of the night and that person would stop me and murder me before I could even try to explain myself. I know I'm going to be dead sooner or later, but my instincts are forcing me to stay here, where survival is more likely for the moment. I grunt and make myself stand. I won't be able to sleep any longer with all these thoughts of death, so I might as well start breakfast.

The cauldron where I made yesterday's chicken soup still hangs over the fire. However, it's mostly out now, just some smoldering embers. Zircon is taking guard, and he eyes me warily as I try to figure out how to get the fire started up again. I look up desperately at Zircon, and he sighs, walking over, his spear left leaning against the side of the Cornucopia. My senses suddenly become alert; I could break away now while Zircon is unarmed, maybe push him over and make a break for it. However, I'm too afraid to move, and I just clear my vote, looking away from Zircon as he brings the fire back to life and adds some tinder to the fire.

"We can't use too much wood, all we have is the wood in the Cornucopia," Zircon tells me firmly. "So don't add anymore."

"O-of course," I stutter, keeping my eyes pointed at my toes. Zircon stands there for a few moments, looking at me quizzically, before shaking his head and turning away. He walks back to his guard post, leaning against the side of the Horn tiredly and surveying the boring fields of wheat that stretch into infinity. As he zones out gazing out into the arena, I creep into the Horn to gather supplies for the soup. The other fresh foods we have in the Cornucopia are stacked in a pile near the mouth. I pick up a bag of tomatoes and haul them over to my cauldron along with a pretty dull dagger, probably too dull to do much damage to a human. It was the dagger Chavez single handedly picked out just for me to make sure "I didn't hurt anyone". I don't know why he has his panties in such a twist over me, I do whatever he tells me out of survival instinct, and he could end me easily. He's a lot more scared and paranoid than he'll ever let on.

I pour a good amount of water from a jug inside the Cornucopia into the cauldron, and then I set to work chopping the tomatoes one by one into itty bitty pieces. Zircon keeps looking over at me curiously, probably wondering what I'm making. He's so rich and such, he probably couldn't even make a basic tomato soup. It's simultaneously annoying and pleasing to see the boy be curious to find out how one makes a simple broth. The tiniest bit of a smile crawls onto my face for a moment as I revel in the fact that I'm better at something than Zircon O'Dile, even if it is something as useless in the Games as cooking. The smile grows just a little as I stir the soup a little bit before continuing to dice more tomatoes.

That hint of a smile is wiped off of my face when I feel someone's hand slap across my face. Gasping, I stagger and grab onto the lip of the cauldron, trying to keep myself upright. However, the metal is pretty hot, and I squeal. Letting go of the scalding metal, I fall onto my butt in the mud while fucking Chavez looks down on me, glaring. I try to crawl away, but he just moves closer.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Chavez screams, a vein popping out on his forehead. Zircon is watching the exchange, a little concerned but unwilling to get involved. The other Careers are waking up now at Chavez's yell as I struggle to eke out a response.

"I-I a-a-am ma-making bre-breakfast-t," I manage to gasp out, physically shaking as tears start to pool in my eyes. I can feel Chavez's handprint stinging across my cheek, and I squeeze my eyes closed as if doing that will get me away from this hell. I feel the tears spill over and leak down my cheeks, and I wait for his response, knowing my death is coming in moments. He'll get pissed off, and just stab me and end this all. I wonder where he'll put his blade.

"Did we ask you to make breakfast, bitch?" Chavez scowls. "Huh? Answer me! DID WE?!"

"No!" I whimper, keeping my eyes closed and turning my head away from me.

"Look at me, you fucking coward!" Chavez barks, and he suddenly grabs my face, snapping my face towards him. I slowly force myself to open my eyes. A few more tears spill as Chavez fills my vision, inches from my face and majorly seething. He's going to break my neck. I can feel his hands gripping tighter around my face. He wants to try it, to snap my neck like a toothpick. He's been waiting since the Bloodbath to do this.

Suddenly, I see Ardin storming out of nowhere, hands on her hips and her lips angrily pursed. "What are you doing?!" Chavez's hands drop from my face as he turns and stands to face his arch nemesis. I fall backwards once he releases his vise-like grip on me, and I crawl away in the mud, trying to ease my sobs. I can still feel his hands clenching my face. As Ardin and Chavez continue to fight, I see Cordelia standing inside the Horn, looking at me worriedly.

"What the FUCK, Ardin!" Chavez roars, glaring at her. She looks right back, matching his intensity. "Why the hell do you feel the need to counteract everything I do? I know this isn't about that stupid Outlier, why can't you settle down into your place and accept my authority?"

Ardin splutters for a few moments, utterly shocked, before she begins to cackle. She cackles ominously for at least five seconds, and Chavez's look goes from furious to confused. Once she stops chortling, Ardin's face hardens.

"Why can't I settle down into my place? Holy hell bells, your misogyny is almost as big and useless as your ego!" Ardin snickers, and Chavez's confused countenance quickly shifts back to angry, and he crosses his arms, continuing to glare.

"Misogyny? What the actual fuck is that?" Chavez inquires angrily. Ardin just continues to laugh, turning away and striding back towards the Horn where the rest of the pack watches in silence. Chavez is stunned that she is just walking away like that, and I am too. Why would you ever turn your back on a trainer killer who is absolutely furious with you, even if you are a trained killer yourself? Especially if that furious trained killer is an amazing knife thrower.

But Chavez doesn't move to do anything, and slowly things go to normal. Everyone resumes ignoring me like they usually do, and I creep back to my cauldron. The soup has probably been in a little too long, but that's not my fault. I add in the last few tomatoes, dicing them up quickly, and stirring it all together until it's ready. None of the Careers are paying attention, instead getting ready to go hunting. I stride slowly over to Trinity, and tap her on the shoulder.

"Breakfast's ready," I murmur meekly, keeping my eyes on the muddy ground, and the girl acknowledges what I've said with a simple grunt before turning to the other Careers and informing them of the news in her prettiest, most inviting voice. How...duplicitous. I guess she's not going to waste her sugary smiles and feigned kindness on me. I'm already dead in her head, a non entity, just a poor little Outlier that she'll be able to dispatch whenever she needs to.

Chavez makes me taste a little bit of the soup before they dig in to ensure that I haven't poisoned it. While he may be a total psychopathic asshole he isn't stupid. The Careers devour the soup, and they don't leave any for me when they're done. Chavez burps afterwards and mentions how it tasted pretty awful, and I know he's trying his best to provoke me. But I don't take offense, it's not like we have a state of the art kitchen here, it was some tomatoes, water, and salt in a cauldron, it's not going to be that great. But it's warm and it's food, and I can tell the others are happy to have something to eat besides rations like jerky or dried fruit. That's all we are going to have to eat soon enough, so they are cherishing the fresh food before they have to eat those stale packets.

In fact, I manage to smuggle one of the aforementioned packets out of the rations pile while no one is looking, and I stash it in my pocket. I guess they're not going to feed me, so I guess I'll get my own stuff. If it's even possible, I feel more like a neglected pet than ever before. They're just keeping me for the few tricks I'm able to turn out before they're going to finish me off. I hate this so much, but once again I know there is nothing I can do it about it so I remain quiet as ever.

Soon enough, I can tell the Careers are itching to go hunting, so they get ready to do so. They suit up, filling a couple of packs with food and water just in case they get separated, want something while they're hunting, or don't make it back to the Cornucopia by tonight. They automatically leave Cordelia to guard the Cornucopia since she's the weakest and most willing to do so, and then they're gone, just like that. I sit by the fire, watching as the five bloodthirsty Careers stalk off into the grass to hunt for some poor Outliers. Poor Outliers just like me.

Cordelia and I largely ignore each other at first; she paces around the perimeter of the Cornucopia mud patch with a spear, looking for intruders, while I slouch by the fire and do my best to distract myself from the overwhelming sadness and boredom filling me. When I think Cordelia has stopped paying attention to me, I lay down and take out my pack of jerky as quietly as I can. I tear it open and begin to eat. As I'm finishing it, I feel Cordelia's boot poke me between my shoulder blades. I shoot upwards, stuffing the jerky packet in my pocket.

"What are you doing?" Cordelia asks me, and if I didn't know better I would say she's genuinely interested in me. I guess she did save me on Day 1, but since then she's mostly ignored me like the others although she does give me a few worried looks every now and then. I don't know if those means she's worried for me, or worried about me. Anyway, I know she's a Career even if she was Reaped, and I know she doesn't have my best interest at heart.

"Uh, nothing," I murmur, even though I know she saw me eating. I just hope she doesn't yell at me too harshly.

"Carmen, I'm not going to yell at you for eating a packet of jerky," she says kindly. "It was rude that they didn't leave any soup for you."

"Not rude, I understand it," I mutter, biting my lip. "I don't exist to people like you. You people are gods."

I can't believe I just said that. I steel myself for her bitter retort, but she says nothing, just sitting down on the mud beside the fire.

"I'm not a god," Cordelia laughs. "Hardly. My dad trained us in his garage every now and then, but I never planned coming here. It was just a safety precaution. There's a reason they left me behind here. They know I don't have the same thirst for blood like them, and they know I'll just drag them down on the hunt."

"You feel like the outsider?" I inquire, actually curious. I can't believe this Career girl is being so open with me.

She turns to me and looks me straight in the eyes, and for some reason I can't look away as she whispers, "Absolutely. You and I, we're more alike than you think." The silly thing is that I believe her, I really believe her as she says that.

"What do you need from me?" I breathe, knowing that there's a reason she convinced the others to save me. She wouldn't care if Chavez amped up his villainy even more by killing me. She did this for a reason, and I need to know.

"Well, I have a plan," Cordelia confides, looking down at her hands now. "Zircon's sorta my friend and we bonded well pre-Games, but he's different now that we're in the Games. He's drifting from me and becoming more cold. I don't have anyone on my side, when the pack splits I'll be an easy target, I'll never make it out."

"So you're going to try and take them out before they take you out?" I ask, looking at her with extreme interest. Is she going to try and pull off some stunt that could get us both out of here without having to take them head on and inevitably lose?

"Yeah," Cordelia replies, trying to smile at me as she looks back up at me. Her eyes lock with mine once more, and I know she's being truthful. That or she's either an exemplary liar. I wouldn't put it past her for it to be the latter.

Suddenly, I feel my heart speed up just a little bit as hope floods back into my veins. Maybe I'm not as screwed as I thought.

"Awesome," I tell her, a small smile fighting its way onto my face. "I...that sounds awesome."

"You'd be in?" she questions.

"Of course," I scoff. "I'm even more fucked when the Pack splits than you are."

Before we can continue the conversation, however, we suddenly hear a large thundering noise. We both instinctively shoot to our feet, our heads whipping around as we search for the noise. It can't be a cannon, it's kept going. Cordelia urgently taps on my shoulder and points to the west. I gasp as both of our eyes are locked on the turmoil enveloping that side of the arena. We realize it might come by us soon as well, and we both retreat to the Cornucopia, curling up in the very back to hide.

"They can't get us in here," Cordelia huffs, and I really hope she is right. I'm just glad I don't have to face that out in the wide openness of the rest of the arena.

Luke Saturn, 17

District Nine Male

The sickle I grabbed from the Bloodbath hangs limply by my side in my hand as I walk forward. Bored as hell as I just keep moving through the sea of golden grass, I contemplate slicing down some stalks of the grass for fun, to ease the mood. However, I know doing that will just leave behind obvious marks of my trail. Even an Outlier who grew up in a city could track something like that. So I keep my weapon firmly by my side, continuing to move forward.

I've decided the best strategy is to move as much as possible. Sleep for a couple hours at the nighttime, get up and move, and then sleep some more, and then repeat. And then just keep moving throughout the day. It'll make it way harder for someone to track me, and it also gives me something else to do besides sitting around and waiting for something to happen. The walking and exploring this monotonous arena, while often dull, is more interesting than just lazing around and staying in one spot. Maybe it's a little riskier because I could bump into the Careers, but I don't think moving or not moving really matters in that debate. Either way you're going to have to eventually face them. I'd rather be moving and on my toes then sitting still and zoned out when I have to go up against Career(s).

Soon enough, I'm just a little surprised because I swear I feel the utterly flat arena tilt downwards just a little. I guess I'm not wrong, because a few moments later my boot splashes in a tiny stream. I stop, backing up and looking down. It's more a rivulet than anything, almost a foot wide and trickling through the small indent in the ground. It's so little that it's unnoticeable unless you're standing a few feet away from it and see the small gap in the sea of grain. I drop to my knees besides it, swinging the little golden brown pack I grabbed from the Bloodbath off of my back. This is exactly what I've been needing; I have dozens of granola bars in my pack along with an empty canteen, but no water, and I can already feel some of the dehydration setting in. The water looks clear enough, and it's probably one of the only sources of water out here. I doubt the Gamemakers want us to all get dehydrated to death since there's no safe water or die from drinking the water we find, especially in such a simple arena like this. The flat terrain and lack of hiding spots is more than enough to set the odds against us Outliers. Making all the water poisonous would just tip the scales so against us that they'd be ensuring a Career victory and have no shot at one of their beloved underdog storylines. So I decide to just take the risk and drink the water. If I end up dying, oh well. The Gamemakers are stupid as fuck if they make this water deadly.

I place my canteen's mouth in the little stream, and wait until it fills up before pouring some of the water in my mouth. Instantly, I feel a lot better. I didn't realize how dry my throat was, and how thirsty I felt. I gulp down the entire canteen before filling it back up, and drinking that full one as well. I need as much water as possible in me; I'm not going to be coming back here for a long time, as it'll be a hotspot of activity if others discover it. I wanna avoid activity as much as possible these first few days. I'll wait until the others are more worn down and their instincts are dulled before I start pursuing them.

Once I sate my thirst with another full canteen of water, I fill up the canteen and screw the cap closed. I shove the canteen in my pack, and pull out one of the granola bars from my pack. This one's half eaten, I ate the other half early this morning when I woke up around dawn. I chomp down the other half into my pretty empty stomach. Then I stuff the empty wrapped back into my pack. Leaving it out here would help someone track me. Then I stand up to keep moving, and suddenly I hear a faint rumble. Looking around wildly, soon my eyes find what the source of the sound is, and suddenly I'm falling backwards in time.

"Mommy! Daddy!" little Luke whimpers. Kneeling in the bloody grass outside of his family's little shack, he's been prodding his parents for almost two hours now. The steers that plowed them over and crushed them into the earth are long gone now, stampeding through another part of the Midlands. Little Luke doesn't know what this means, the holes in their bodies and the crushed bones and disjointed limbs. He doesn't know what this slick red liquid covering their bodies, the grass, and now him is. He just knows that this is his Mommy, this is his Daddy, and they aren't talking to him anymore.

Soon enough, he starts to crawl down the dusty path connecting their shack to the rest of the village. He picks himself onto his feet and starts to run, run as fast as he can, as tears start to stream down his face. He still doesn't know what is happening but he knows something is wrong.

The first woman he finds is putting back up the faded town sign, reading "Welcome to Ropin", at the beginning of the village. She pales and drops her tools the moment she sees the little boy smattered in red scrambling towards her with hot tears streaking down his chubby cheeks. She picks him up and carries him into the village as the strongest men sprint to the Saturn shack to see if there is anything to salvage of his parents.

There isn't.

The reverie is suddenly pulled away, and now I can see them. Dozens and dozens of bison are stampeding from the western corner of the arena, closer to me than I like. In fact, they're heading my way right now, hundreds of them, a rippling sea of snorting, horned beasts crushing the grass underneath their hooves. They're crazed, made mad by something, probably the Gamemakers, and nothing can stop them. And I can't move. I know right then, that I am going to die. This is my one fear. This is my kryptonite. I am going to die like my parents. I am going to die here, prepared for these Games and poised to win, because I can't run from some silly fucking bison.

I try to make myself move, drag myself away from the edge of the stream and sprint. It's hopeless; I shake, but the fear has me rooted to the spot. All I can see is my mother not breathing, the blood pooling underneath my father's serene head. I can feel the blood, slick and gushing, pouring over my fingers and through the gaps between them. I can see myself watching through the window as they are crushed like beetles under a man's shoe.

Too soon, the first bison stampedes past me, snorting and saliva flying from its mouth. It's fifteen feet to my right, but it's close enough to make tears start streaming from my eyes. I stagger backwards as I force myself to move, and that's enough movement to get me to start moving. It's like I'm moving through molasses, but I trudge forward, slowly picking up speed as a couple more bison run past. One look back, though, and I know my stumbling pace is not enough. Hundreds of the creatures are coming, and they're close. And they're not spread out, they're grouped closely together, hooves pummeling the ground into nothing.

I curse the Gamemakers over and over through my tears. How did they know? Did they know? If so, why target me? I was going to give them a show. I was going to be their little underdog, murdering little kids if I had to to get out of here. I was going to be their pretty little Victor that they could do anything to. I feel almost nothing, they could use me like a little doll and I'd just let them do it in the name of survival. I would be their perfect toy.

The first bison that's coming my way uses its horns to throw me to the ground. I fly and land, hard, on the ground a couple of feet away. As I try to pick myself up, hooves are smashing into my back, my neck, my skull. I scream and groan and try my best to get to my feet, but it's too late. I'm trapped under the stampede. I can already feel my head bruising, and my left arm is shattered. I scream and scream and scream, and I manage to flip myself around as I try to escape, which is an even bigger mistake. My eyes open wide.

The last hoof lands right between my eyes, and hundreds of pounds of pure muscle and bond and fur and fat smash onto my skull. It cracks like an egg, and then I'm just gone. I'm dazed for a few moments but I know this is it, this is my last few seconds, as I feel the hoof draw out of my brain. That's it.

I'm gone.

Fender Hopkins, 17

District Six Male

BOOM!

The loud sound of a cannon shattering the air makes me go into alert mode. The past few days I've been resting in a random spot in the grass, pretty far from the Cornucopia. I got bored of moving around and finding nothing. There's not going to be any special cave or hill or the like to hide in, so I just chose a random spot and hunkered down. Maybe it's not necessarily the best strategy but at least I'm not leaving tons of tracks everywhere.

Anyway, I've been zoning out as of late, losing my focus and just plain relaxing. The cannon destroys that. The paranoia and fear bubbles in my stomach and clouds my mind. Adrenaline starts to rush even though the death probably happened on the other side of the arena. I make myself sit up (I've been lying down so I can't be seen unless you're close). I look around, and that's when I spot what's coming. The stampede.

We don't really have large animals in Six. Some giant rats and the occasional dog are the extent of my experiences with animals in my District. However, they beasts are giant. They look like cows, but furrier and brown with little horns. They look like they could crush me with one step, and they probably could; I'm guessing this Gamemaker-triggered event is what caused that cannon to fire. I try to think of their names, but I come up blank. It's not like they waste time teaching biology in Six anyway, who's gonna use that in a smoggy District where half the kids turn into gangsters or addicts?

Whatever the heck they're called though, they're rushing towards me, angry as hell and destroying everything in their path. They're still far off, maybe three fourths of a mile, but I can still see them, that's how damn flat this entire arena is. I hate to stand up and reveal myself, especially if there's someone else nearby, but I can't just sit here and let myself be trampled. I rise to my feet and start running diagonally towards them.

Just running straight away doesn't make sense; they'll stay on their path and gain on me. If I run diagonally, I can get out of the way. I could run diagonally away from them, but I get a sense I'm nearing the edge of the arena. I don't want to be electrocuted to death by the force field while running away from a herd of stampeding whatchamacallits, and I should have enough time to get far away from the stampede running diagonally.

It still feels scary and wrong to run sorta towards them as I pick up my pack and start running as fast as I can diagonally through the grass. The fear pumps through my veins; the giant beasts are freaky, but I'm even more worried about what will happen if another tribute finds me. The Careers are definitely hunting now and if they're nearby, I could be getting an arrow or a throwing knife in my back at any moment. I just wanna hunker down again, but I know I can't do that unless I want to get crushed. So I keep running, and soon enough I've steered far enough away that I'm pretty sure I'm out of the way.

I'm right. I squat in the grass, peering just barely over the tops of the grass as the mutts rush past. With every heavy, frantic step their fatty bodies ripple. They look so monstrous, but in their eyes all I see is fear, not malcontent. They're not here to kill, they're just scared, and causing havoc in their wake. It's like us kids trapped in here. The fifteen of us left...well, fourteen after that cannon...are all scared, no matter if we say it or not. We're all just like those animals, bounding forward to save themselves and destroying the world around them. We're just scared.

My thoughts are disrupted when I hear a loud shout from the path of the stampede. I see a dark skinned man dodging the creatures, he's somehow stayed in their path and avoided being gored or trampled. But one smacks into his shoulder, and sends him to the ground. He avoids being trampled and hops to his feet, running out of the path of the mutts as the stragglers lumber past, trying to keep up with the rest of the herd. His shoulder looks banged up, and his right arm dangles limply. Once he's out of the way, he huffs and pauses, looking around. Soon enough he spots me, and our eyes meet for a couple of seconds. I slowly rise to my feet, not knowing what to expect from Omri. None of his allies are with him; I saw the Three boy dead from the Bloodbath, and then last night to my surprise the Seven girl was in the sky. And the Three girl is nowhere to be found. Omri's alone, and I don't know what's up with him. Did he kill the Seven girl? Is he lost? Looking for his allies? Is the Three girl the one whose cannon just fired? If not what happened with them? These questions crowd my mind, but I shove them away as we continue to stare at one another.

"Fender?" Omri hollers, and I nod, moving towards him pretty slowly. He does the same, and then puts his hands up. I do the same, and then he chuckles just a little bit, shaking his head and relaxing. With that, I relax a little. However in my head, my alarm bells are still ringing loudly. The adrenaline from escaping the stampede is still coursing through me, and I'm still on edge. I guess that's good, Omri could be tricking me and trying to shank me. So I'm honestly not too mad to still be on guard as we approach one another. Soon enough we're a few feet apart, and we both stop walking towards one another.

"Hey," I mutter, looking up at him.

"Hey," he says, sighing. "Don't freak out, alright? I'm not going to kill you."

"Same here," I tell him, crossing my arms. "So what do you want? Do you need help to find the Three girl?"

Omri's teeth instantly clench upon hearing her name, and I can tell immediately that I've hit a nerve. He bites his lip and fumbles over his words for a few moments before he gets out, "Um...yes. But not to ally with her."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He looks at his hands for a minute before looking back up at me. "But like that's not the only reason I didn't run or attack when I saw you."

"You wanna work together?" The question just slips out without thought. How tactful, Fender.

"Definitely," Omri replies with a small smile, and I'm happily surprised by his response. "I liked you in training. You seemed tough, and that's something I like in an ally. Easy going too. But Ivy didn't want to add anyone else so I let you go."

Ivy, that's the Seven girl's name. Omri seems to get distant for a second after saying her name. "How did she die?" I ask. Maybe a little blunt, but I can tell it's crowding in his head. Maybe if he gets it out, some of the pain will leave.

"Fuji was acting weird, and Ivy was getting annoyed by it," Omri says. Fuji. That's the Three girl, I'm guessing. "Fuji overheard Ivy saying she wanted to kill Fuji sooner than later. However we thought Fuji was asleep. Fuji killed Ivy and ran after I...I fell asleep on guard."

"It wasn't your fault, dude," I tell him automatically. "That sucks though. She seemed like a cool chick."

"She was," Omri agrees, nodding. "Well, so I'm just sort of after Fuji. If we get a chance to confront her, I'm taking her down and I'm not going to back down."

"Don't blame ya," I reply.

"How have things been for you?" Omri inquires.

"Boring," I chuckle. "I've just been sitting in the grass and waiting to meet someone."

"Well, I guess it's your lucky day to meet me," Omri laughs with a small smile. "Now, I sort of have a pressing problem to ask you to help me with?"

"Yeah?"

"My arm? Pretty sure it's dislocated."

I look at his limply hanging arm, and I resist the urge to laugh. He's probably been trying to get me to help him out with it, but I've just kept talking and talking while his arm swells and probably hurts like heck.

"You want me too..."

"Uh, you're the only option to do it?" Omri snorts. I walk over as Omri rips off his shirt and stuffs it in his mouth so he won't make a loud noise when I pop his shoulder back into place. I gingerly grab his shoulder, and soon I pop it back into its socket. Thank god I've done this before with Torque or I might've just made it worse. Omri obviously tenses and then winces when I put it back in place, but after he takes the shirt out of his mouth he comments that it's already feeling better.

"That's good," I tell him with a smile. "Anyway, I think we should probably get down by now, the Careers have to be out hunting somewhere."

"Right," he says, nodding. "Well, let's go."

We both lean as low as we can and start jogging forward, moving away from the place of the stampede. The grass of their path is matted down, exposing anyone who would try to hide there, and the Careers will surely check the stampede path for any wounded Outliers who haven't been finished off yet. So it's smartest if we get the heck out of here and find another place to hide in plain sight.

Omri and I don't say much to each other, but it's pleasant to be working together, to have someone you know is watching your back. I don't know if I can fully trust him yet, he is a charismatic guy who seems to be really playing these Games already due to the whole Ivy and Fuji thing. However, while I can take care of myself, it does feel comforting and relaxing to have someone else by your side. Of course some of that paranoia is there, but it's always going to be there. I have an ally now, and he's the strongest Outlier in this arena. I think we're going to be doing pretty good out here.

As it gets later in the day, suddenly a giant parachute starts to fall from the sky, directly towards us. We're both excited to receive something, although the huge looking sponsor gift definitely reveals our location. When it lands and we get closer to it, we both start to cackle. Omri looks at the chainsaw in awe while I crack open the note, seeing it was sent for Omri himself.

"What the fuck are we going to do with this?!" Omri whoops in laughter, and I just laugh along with him. Stupid Capitolites.

A/N: I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I know that I've been gone so long but I hope you guys really enjoyed this chapter.

15TH: LUKE SATURN, 9M - Killed by bison stampede

I really liked this guy. Just due to his personality he wasn't very likable and he faded into the background. However, I thought he was a pretty realistic tribute and it was nice to have someone so solemn and serious compared to a lot of the more free spirited and open tributes. Also, his scenes about the stampede was tragic and awesome to write. When I got his form I knew this was going to be his death, because it was just so ironic and good and would be such a perfect place for him to end. While he wasn't necessarily anyone's favorite I did love writing him. The arena just took him out and there really wasn't much he could do about that.

Kill Count:

Trinity Vegas: 2 (Rufus, Gaia)

Zircon O'Dile: 2 (Soya, Millard)

Chavez Belasco: 2 (Baron, Jayce)

Ardin Varnell: 1 (Sage)

Tyberios Palatium: 1 (Bernie)

Fuji LaMac: 1 (Ivy)

Arena Events: 1 (Luke)

What did you guys think of this chapter? It certainly was a thrill to write! What do you think Cordelia's plan is, and is Carmen right to trust her? What did you think of Luke's demise and the stampede twist? Also, what do you think of the new Omri/Fender alliance and their chainsaw? xD (thanks Plat)

That chainsaw was a sponsor gift, if you guys want to send stuff in just PM me! I'm sorry I didn't keep track of points well, but if you've been consistently reviewing you can basically send in an item or two of whatever you want. If it won't mess up my story plan too much I'll allow it in! xD

Thanks for all of you that are still here. I really, really appreciate it. I know the wait was terrible but I hope to get more updates out in the soon future and I hope some of you are still here because you all deserve to see the finish of this story :)

Until Next Time,

Tracee