District 3: Shiloh McCarthy's POV

One, two, three, four…

The petals of my rose flutter down on to the ship deck and I crush them one by one with the heel of my shoe. They don't make a sound, but I have found a delight in watching them break apart like my heart. Or at leas that is what my heart feels like.

Miles is dead.

It is still hard for my mind to say it in a complete sentence. Sometimes the word dead will cross my mind with the brief picture of my brother's face. Sometimes I will relive the moment where the table flew at him, causing him to fall to the ground. And never wake up. I tried my hardest to wake him, honest, but he wouldn't budge. I even went to get him that stuff the Capitol had put out on that pretty table, but it only ended up being a little vial with this rose on top. I still got the vial 'cause it didn't do anything to help my brother.

The only thing it does is smell gross.

I continue to crush the petals with my heel until I am left with only one little petal, hanging limply. It misses all its petal friends. So do I. I decide to leave it on the flower. I want it to be lonely with me. I tuck the stem with the one scarlet petal into the little case with the vial and continue to walk across the deck.

Occasionally I will hear voices around me, but I don't bother ducking and hiding like my brother used to make me do. Hide and go seek is too boring after playing it so many times. The voices fade away soon enough anyway. Sometimes they people were shouting like this boy and girl who were talking about trust stuff. Other times the people will be whispering about meeting somewhere secret. I ignore all of them.

"You can't go looking for friends in low places like this Shiloh."

That is what my brother used to say to me even before the Games started, back in District 3. I don't think he liked it there much. Neither did I. It was like this place, too lonely and too dark. I want to skip to make the time go by faster, but my heels won't let me. I had wanted to leave my shoes somewhere ages ago, but my brother said that wasn't a good idea.

I make it to the end of the higher deck. I have to places to go, down the stairs or turn around. I am about to just turn around and walk back to the other side of the ship when I notice a door next to me. Someone has jammed something into it. I go over to observe and see it is the heel of my shoe. Well, not my shoe, but someone else's shoe.

I pull and tug a little and manage to get the heel free. The door is a bit harder. I bet Miles would have been able to get it open. I tug furiously for a few minutes before the door finally gives up and opens. I step inside and smile at my accomplishment.

The room is just a control room with a bunch of bright buttons with fancy wires next to them. I am about to leave when I hear it, the crying. "Hello," I say loudly to the empty room. My eyes widen when I realize this might be another Capitol trick like the one that killed my brother. "Who ever or what ever you are, leave me alone!"

The cry continues, as if whoever is doing it doesn't even hear me. I gather up my courage and begin to walk deeper into the room. The cry gets louder the farther in a walk until it is pounding in my ears. This person is very upset. I peer behind the control board and find who is doing the crying. I am relieved it is not a Capitol thing.

It is a boy. He is cowering in the corner, tears streaming down his face. His eyes look sunken in and his lips are cracked in many places. His hands are extremely bloody, though it doesn't seem like it was from a fight. He cringes when his despairing eyes meet me and clamps his hands into fists which only causes him to cringe more from pain.

I think of the lonely petal on the flower in my pocket and how much I think it is like me. It is like this boy too. He is all alone with no one to turn to. He must have lost something to. I put my small arms around his neck and hug him. He cries harder into my shoulder and I whisper in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll help you. We're friends now and I am very good at fixing people."

District 7: Sunday Lancast's POV

I am now legitimately pissed off. I thought I would have seen Todd by now. In all honesty, I thought the guy would have been desperate enough to follow me. I just want to kill him and get it over with. However, me searching for him will make me look the desperate one, not him. Lying low isn't something I'm good at. And unfortunately, that is Todd's specialty.

I'm sure the Capitol is getting bored by now. No one has died in awhile. The last person to die was that girl from 9, but that was at least twenty-four hours ago. So, maybe finding Todd wouldn't be such a bad idea. It would be one less competitor and a big one at that.

It is very quiet tonight on the deck. Usually tributes can be heard sneaking around the deck, hoping to find or avoid other tributes. It is almost like everyone knows something big is going to happen soon. And there will be blood involved.

My heels click against the wooden deck as I walk along. The inside portion of the ship has become too crowded and I prefer to hear the sound of water crashing against the sides of ship than the sound of just my heels in the silent halls of the cabin areas. Anyway, you never know who is lurking inside those rooms.

I am so focused on my own thoughts; I don't notice my heel has caught on something until my face collides with the ground. I want to shriek in pain, but that would bring too much attention to me. I push myself off the ground and sit to see the damage. Though sore, my ankle seems alright. It is my nose that has been dealt the most damage. It has not been broken in a strange shape, but it hurts to touch. A few tiny drops of blood roll down on to my lip.

"Wonderful," I mutter. A broken nose isn't the worst that could happen to me, but it sure is a pain in the ass. I had ditched my packs awhile ago since they were too much weight and didn't remember seeing any medical supplies in them anyway. The only thing I have left is a knife for defense and killing. I have just been stealing food.

I forget my bleeding nose for a minute and begin to search for the thing that caused me to break my nose in the first place. The object glitters in the moonlight and I crawl over to pick it up. It is a silver necklace with a large blue stone. It is unusually heavy for a necklace, but it is beautiful and captivating none the less.

I push the fact that the necklace tripped me and broke my nose to the side. I slip it around my neck and smile down at it. "This is definitely worth holding on to."

District 2: Anna Sinclair's POV

I don't know if Ben doesn't notice he is tapping his foot loudly or if he is doing it just to aggravate me. That is really how our alliance has been so far. We annoy each other to no end, but it has never resulted in an actual fight. It isn't a great relationship, but it is better than being in the Careers.

"Are you doing yet?" Ben asks in a bored tone. I roll my eyes though he can't see me do it. I hate how he always acts like he could be doing better. I don't know why a fifteen year old, should be Career would think that. The only other alternative to what we are doing now is killing someone, but no one has made a sound in the past few days.

The first class cabin was nicely furnished, but it felt extremely empty. There is nothing to pick up and hold unless you possessed some kind of extreme strength. I wanted to search the cabin to see if there were any hidden supplies here. We had found two packs yesterday, lazily tossed away in one of the rooms. I guess that was just a one time thing.

I am just finishing looking around when a single pair of footsteps can be heard coming down the hall. I clench my fist in anger. Ben better not be leaving. I turn around sharply, but I find myself face to face with Ben, who must have also heard the footsteps. "It is probably just one of the loner tributes," I comment, waving it off. We can take any single tribute. We're District 2.

"Wait, what cabin is this?" Ben asks, his eyes darting around the room for the answer.

"I don't know, the second first class cabin," I answer with a shrug, not seeing why it matters.

"That's impossible, the note said five days into the Games, not eight," Ben mutters, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Suddenly, the single pair of footsteps is followed by a pair of heels. Soon, there are four people in the hall and they all sound like they are heading for this room.

"What note?" I ask Ben, my voice set in a low whisper in hopes the Careers wouldn't hear me. Of course, leave it to Ben to keep secrets.

"It was only supposed to be one person. How did the Careers know?" Ben asks himself, ignoring me completely. It takes all my self-control not to strangle Ben right now. It would save the Careers some work. We could have maybe taken two or even three of them, but all four at a time will not end well for us. "We need to get out of here. Is there another way out?"

"You are unbelievable," I hiss, but I do start looking around for another exit. If we do get out of this, I might have to kill Ben myself. He is already across the room, pulling at every handle he can get his hands on. But it seems hopeless. Someone else is pulling at the other handle as well.

"I got it," Ben announces, pulling open another door that leads to the room's own personal deck. It may not lead directly out, but it is better than staying in this room. I run over to the door and Ben is pulling at the screen door, which seems stuck. "Come on."

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I recognize the voice of the arrogant District 1 boy, Marco. Ben leaves the screen alone; realizing any attempt now would be futile. Everyone knows it would come to this and now it is time to see. Who is stronger: The Career pack or District 2 alone?

…

Thoughts on Shiloh and Steam's new alliance of a sort? Sunday and the necklace? What will happen with Anna, Ben, and the Careers? Hint: there will be death and lots of blood next chapter.

Capitol Question of the Day: Who do you think will make it out of the Career/District 2 showdown?

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Peace, Love, and All That Jazz.

-Emma