Disclaimer: I still don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.
Note: Just a quick reminder to vote in the "favorite contestants" poll if you haven't yet.
Training Day One
United
Penelope – 098, 13
She couldn't help wondering if they really had a better chance together.
Penelope watched as Marcus and Manaka took another lap around the building. Or at least, she tried to watch. The pair of them were moving so quickly, it was hard for her eyes to keep up. On the surface, it was a perfect match. The two of them would be able to outrun pretty much any of the competition, with the possible exception of Kenji. But eventually, they would have to do something more than just run away.
Wouldn't they?
Probably. On the surface, the MAAB didn't really have a way to force them to do anything else, aside from maybe turning on their collars. Last year, things would have been different. The island the Games had been held on had only been about a dozen miles long. Unless the two of them could run over water or swim more than a hundred miles in freezing water without resting, there would have been nowhere for them to go. This year was different.
Except it wasn't. Their powers hadn't stopped them from being collected for the Games, and now they wouldn't be able to run forever. All the MAAB had to do was turn their collars on, and they would be stuck. Well, not completely stuck, but as stuck as the rest of them were. Obviously, they wouldn't do that unless they felt they had to, but it was an option.
An option that she hoped they wouldn't have to use. It was her job to convince the two of them that they had to do something more than simply running away. But so far, they hadn't slowed down enough to listen to her. Penelope glanced over at Alvin, who shrugged. "Want me to slow them down a bit?"
Penelope shook her head. Alvin had apparently decided that the best course of action was to pretend that their conversation earlier hadn't happened, which was probably just as well. It hadn't been for his benefit, anyway; he obviously wasn't the leak. Someone was getting information to Piper, of course. How else would their potential contestants have kept disappearing for months before the Games? But even if he was trying to undermine the Games, that wasn't really his style. He knew better.
And he knew her better than to think that she thought he was the leak. But the contestants who didn't know either of them as well … maybe she had fooled them. Maybe that would be able to keep them – and the MAAB – off the right trail a little longer. Not forever, of course; it was only a matter of time before they found out.
But maybe a little time was all they needed.
Penelope glanced over to where the pair of were coming around the building again. "Just turn mine off. I've got it."
Alvin pressed a button. "Try not to fry them."
Penelope smirked. "Maybe just a little."
She didn't. A quick current of energy coursing through the ground knocked them off their feet, but no worse. Marcus was the first to scramble to his feet. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, striding towards Penelope.
Penelope didn't flinch. "A little taste of why you can't just rely on being able to outrun everybody. If I had been trying to kill you, you would be dead. Both of you. Just like that."
Marcus opened his mouth to respond, but, to her surprise, thought better of it and took a step away. "Okay. Point taken. What's our next move, coach?"
Coach. That caught her by surprise. Technically, she wasn't his coach; Maria was. But he'd spoken the word as almost a title, a badge of honor. Had he been … what? Testing her? Seeing how long they could keep goofing off before she would intervene? Penelope couldn't hide a smile; maybe these two weren't as oblivious as she had assumed. She nodded as Manaka joined Marcus, waiting obediently for instructions. All right, then.
"I have a few ideas."
Manaka Shizue, 15
"I have a few ideas."
Manaka rubbed the back of his head. He'd bumped it when Penelope had knocked both of them off their feet. If there were any contestants who could do that, then she was right. They couldn't count on just being able to run away forever. Penelope turned to him. "To be honest, the MAAB had your power listed as enhanced speed in your file, because that seems to be what you've been using it for – slowing down time so that you can move faster. Sound about right so far?"
So far? "Yes," Makana agreed. "What made you realize it was something else?"
Alvin gave a little wave. "When you ran by me when I came to collect you, there was a … a feeling. Just a little bit of disorientation. Not something most people would probably notice, but I'd felt something like it before."
Manaka perked up. Alvin had met someone like him before? "When?"
"Last year, we had a contestant who could see into the future for brief flashes at a time. So not exactly the same thing, but enough to feel similar, I guess."
"What happened to her?"
Alvin smiled a little. "She survived. She was the other one who made it out."
"But … where is she, then?"
Alvin rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, but Penelope stepped in before he could answer. "That's not important right now. She's alive; that's all you need to know. And if you want to be alive by the time this is all over, you're going to need to practice doing something besides running. That's what you've both been using it for so far, and you're both pretty good at it. Have you ever thought about trying the opposite?"
Manaka cocked his head. "You mean … speed up time so that we're moving slower than everybody else?"
"That's right."
It was Marcus who asked the obvious question. "Why would we want to do that?"
"Good question," Penelope admitted. "It's not as obvious an advantage as moving faster, but there are cases where it might be helpful. If one of you is bleeding, for example, and you want to give the other person more time to bandage up the wound before you bleed to death. Or if you're going hungry, and you want to save energy, it might be nice if time moved a bit faster for everybody else than for you. Kind of like slowing down your metabolism, or reducing your activity to conserve energy – but with a bit more kick."
Manaka nodded. He'd never thought of it that way before, but it made sense. "So what are we going to do? You're not going to make us start bleeding so that we have some way to tell if we're speeding up time, are you?" He didn't think she would, but she had almost electrocuted the two of them.
Penelope shook her head. "No, I have a better idea. How long can you hold your breath?"
"I don't know," Manaka admitted.
Penelope nodded to Alvin, who reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a stopwatch. He tossed it to her. "Let's find out," Penelope suggested. "Don't do anything with time right now; we just want a benchmark. Once we have that, you can try to speed up time, so that you're moving slower, and see if you can hold your breath longer."
"You're not going to shove us underwater or anything, are you?" Marcus chuckled.
Penelope shrugged. "Maybe if this doesn't work. Go ahead and start … now." She pressed a button on the timer.
Manaka took a deep breath and held it. He wasn't sure if she was kidding or not about forcing them underwater if this didn't work, but Marcus had seemed almost excited by the idea, as if he'd expected training to be something a bit more rigorous than just practicing holding their breath. As if he wanted something a bit more hands-on.
Manaka watched the timer, holding his breath as long as he could. He was just fine with this. In fact, he would have been quite happy to keep sprinting around the building. It had almost helped take his mind off what they were going to be doing. As long as he was running, he could pretend that was all they would need to do – run away, as fast and as far as they could.
But Penelope was right. They couldn't. Not forever, at least. This wasn't just a race; it was a fight. A fight to the death.
And he didn't want to die.
Liv Holle, 18
You don't want to lie to them.
Liv nearly jumped as the words in her head caught her off-guard. Vincent circled around the group again, smiling as if he hadn't just said something. But it had to be him, didn't it? None of the others could do that, could they? Lee manipulated colors. Elena could change her body into metal. Ansel had said he inspired people, but that wasn't the same as talking inside their heads, was it?
No, it's not. Vincent had circled back around. You can lie if you want to, but I'm telling you right now, it won't end well. He turned to the group. "All right. Three of you showed off last night, so everybody knows what you can do. Liv, care to share?"
Liv glared. He was putting her on the spot on purpose. She had been thinking about lying, because if they knew what she could really do, one of two things would happen. Either they would think her power was useless, or they would expect her to be able to do something that she just couldn't. She hadn't had enough practice to do anything useful.
That's what this is for.
"Get out of my head!" She hadn't meant to say it out loud, and the other three immediately turned and stared at her. Great. Now they would probably think she was nuts, too.
"Sorry." Vincent stopped pacing around the group. "I just thought you might not want all of them to hear that."
Lee raised an eyebrow. "Hear what?"
Perfect. Liv crossed her arms. "Fine. I manipulate storms. Are you happy now?"
Vincent nodded. "There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it? They would have found out eventually, and now we can work with it." He held out his hand. "See?"
Liv looked. There was a water droplet. As she watched, several more landed. She risked a glance up in time to see several clouds overhead. Not enough to be called a storm, maybe, but more than there had been only a few minutes ago, she was sure. "I … I did that?"
Vincent shrugged. "If you didn't, it's an awfully big coincidence. So let's work under the assumption that you did. Useful thing, rain – especially if you don't have access to a reliable source of water. Now you just need a way to catch and contain it before the clouds are gone. Ideas?"
Liv glanced at Ansel, whose forehead was wrinkled with concentration. Probably trying to come up with something clever – or maybe inspire someone else to think of something clever. Liv turned to Elena. "Can you control what shape the metal is in when you turn into a robot?"
"I've never really tried," Elena admitted.
"That's what this is for," Liv echoed with a pointed glance at Vincent.
Elena shook her head. "I told you last night, it only really happens when—"
"When you're scared," Liv finished. "Got it. But I can't keep coming up behind you and threatening to choke you. We're going to have to come up with something else."
"I know. I know. I'm just—" Suddenly, she stopped short, staring at Vincent, who had taken a few steps to one side. Then she looked down at her hands, which were starting to turn to metal.
Liv grinned. "Good. Now keep going. Think of something round."
Her hands grew paler, more metallic, cupping into two bowls. Liv clapped Elena on the back as she caught some of the water. "There you go. Now you know you can—" She stopped when she saw the tears running down Elena's face. Immediately, she whirled around to face Vincent. "What did you do?"
"Scared her."
Elena tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. "And what am I supposed to do in the Games? You're not going to be there to tell me—"
Vincent shook his head. "Trust me, you'll be plenty scared in the Games. We just can't afford to wait until then. You needed a little push." He took a step closer. "I am sorry."
Elena shrank away, and Liv shuddered. What had he said? Elena's voice was shaky. "What you said … was it true?"
"Yes. And that was just one of them. Twenty-eight people died last year, Elena. Twenty-eight people are going to die this year. That includes at least two of you. So if you need to be scared … just picture what I said. Imagine that happening to you, or to one of these three." He nodded towards the rest of the group.
"That should do the trick."
Frederick Bouvy, 17
"And that's the only thing that does the trick?"
Frederick nodded as Ian examined the gloves. He'd spent their first hour of training earlier melting the increasingly large objects that Alphonso had persuaded Seb to materialize. He wasn't sure what it was about Alphonso, but Seb seemed to trust him, follow his lead. It was a bit ridiculous, considering how useless Alphonso's power was, but if that was what it took to get Seb to do something, it was worth it.
After their first hour, they'd headed back to the cafeteria, but now that they were back out here, Ian didn't seem to have missed a beat. He turned the gloves over in his hands. "Snake skin?"
"Yeah."
"And that's the only thing that won't melt?"
Frederick shrugged. "That I know of, anyway. Once we found one thing that worked, there didn't really seem to be much point in trying to find anything else, I guess. Snake skin was easy enough to make gloves out of, anyway."
Ian nodded, tossing them back. "So you just kept trying things until something worked?"
"My parents are pretty … resourceful. They just wanted me to be able to have a normal life without melting everything in sight. Is that so bad?"
"Never said it was bad. I had a pretty normal life growing up myself."
Frederick cocked his head. "What's your…?"
"I don't sleep."
"That's it?" Alphonso blurted out.
Ian chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Useful, but not exactly dangerous."
"It'd be good for keeping watch, though," Frederick pointed out. "In a situation like ours, I mean."
"Absolutely," Ian agreed. "So, those gloves." He turned to Seb. "Think you could duplicate them?"
"Why?" Seb had that deer-in-the-headlights look that he seemed to get every time Ian asked him to make something appear, as if he was worried that something might go terribly wrong. He clearly didn't like the idea of using his power. But what was he worried about? He wasn't the one who had almost turned an entire building to goo the night before. And if he made something dangerous appear – like a bear or something – couldn't he just write bear trap and solve the problem?
But he clearly wasn't used to thinking like that. He wanted to keep making small things – apples, knives, squirrels. And that might be enough to keep them alive, but they had to do more than just survive. And he could already see where Ian was going with the gloves. "In case they get damaged, or lost," Frederick offered. "Never hurts to have a backup. Wouldn't want me melting all of Wyoming because one of the other contestants got ahold of one of my gloves, would we?"
Seb shook his head. "I … I don't know. I've never tried anything that big before."
Frederick raised an eyebrow. "It's just a pair of gloves. The blanket you made earlier was bigger than that."
"No, not bigger. That was the wrong word. I meant…" He trailed off, collecting his thoughts. "I meant, just writing gloves won't do. Any sort of gloves could appear. You need a very specific kind of gloves. They need to be snakeskin gloves. I've never tried writing something that long before. Everything else I've made appear has just been one word – and usually pretty short words, too."
Ian nodded. "I get it. You're worried that if you start writing, and write snake at the start of snakeskin gloves, you might just get a snake … or a snake, and then skin, and then a pair of gloves."
"Yeah."
Ian shrugged. "So give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?"
"We end up with a cobra?" Alphonso chuckled.
Ian sighed. "Not helping."
Alphonso nodded. "Sorry. Look, Seb, if we end up with a snake, we end up with a snake, but at least then we'll know. And there's a doctor here, right?"
"Yeah," Ian agreed. "She offered to do some first aid training, but I don't know if anyone took her up on it yet. I can go get her if you're worried about—"
"No," Seb interrupted. "No, I can do it." He took a deep breath and picked up the stick he'd been using to write words on the ground. As soon as they'd figured out that that worked, Ian had suggested he get used to that, since he couldn't depend on having a pen once the Games started. But sticks … well, there would probably be plenty of sticks. Or he could write with his finger; that had worked, too. But maybe he figured a stick gave him a little more room in case a snake did appear.
S-N-A-K-E. Almost immediately, there was a snake slithering across the ground. Alphonso burst out laughing, and Frederick barely held back a chuckle, but Seb was staring at the snake, horrified. "I knew it. I knew something like that would happen. What do I do? What—"
"Easy." Ian laid a hand on his shoulder as the four of them stepped away from the snake. "Easy. It's just a little one, and it doesn't look dangerous. It's okay. Just try again."
"What difference will that make?"
"Maybe you paused a bit after the E," Alphonso offered. "Try writing faster so it's clear it's one word."
"Good idea," Ian agreed. "And at least now we know it's just a little snake, even if the same thing does happen. I guess if you wanted a big snake, you'd have to write anaconda or something."
Seb shuddered. "Why would I want to do that?"
Frederick shook his head. There it was again – that look. Could he really not imagine any instance where being able to summon a huge snake out of nowhere to scare someone away might be useful? Frederick watched as Seb picked up the stick again.
They had a long way to go.
Elena Burleigh, 21
"You don't have to go back out there, you know."
Elena looked up from the sandwich she'd barely touched. Liv and Ansel were already getting seconds, leaving Lee at the table with her. "What do you mean?"
Lee shook his head. "I just meant that obviously Vincent said something that rattled you. I don't know what it was – probably don't want to know – but you haven't even touched your food. Ansel's session is with Ian. Yours and mine are both with Maria. So if you want to duck out of Liv's season tomorrow…"
Elena shook her head. "No. No, I can handle it."
"Are you sure?"
Elena slammed her hand on the table. "Of course I'm sure. I can handle myself, okay?"
But she couldn't. Not really. That was the reason she'd wanted people to work with in the first place, wasn't it? And Vincent … he'd only been trying to help. He'd been trying to scare her, and it had worked. Maybe it had worked too well.
"Elena." Lee's voice was gentle as he laid a hand on her shoulder. "What did he say?"
Elena took a deep breath. "Last year, when the contestants parachuted onto the island, some of them got there before the others. The way things worked … their collars only turned off once they landed. One of the boys could shoot … tendrils of sorts. Tendrils of darkness that tore through the parachutes. He shot down two of the contestants. One of them was dead the moment she hit the ground. The other…" She trailed off for a moment. "She lived a bit longer. Her friends kept her alive as long as they could, but she was suffering. She wasn't going to make it. And one of them … one of them killed her."
Lee gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Okay. Okay, I can see why that would scare you, but—"
"Don't treat me like a kid," Elena insisted. "It's not that. That's not what I'm scared of. It's the rest. This girl … she had the power to control dreams. So when they killed her body, her mind was trapped. Stuck. Not really living, not able to die. I…" She shook her head. "I can deal with the idea of dying. Twenty-eight of us are going to die. But that … if there's someone who could do something like that to us, that's worse than death."
Lee nodded. "Sounds like she did it to herself, though. Your power's not anything like that. I mean, maybe you could get stuck as a robot or something, but even if that happened during the Games, you'd change back as soon as they turned your collar back on, right?"
"I know. I know." Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. "It doesn't make sense to be afraid of it, but … the truth is, we don't know what a lot of the others can even do. Death is one thing, but if there are things that are worse than death…" She shook her head. "That's what he said, okay? He wanted to scare me. It did. That's all."
Lee was quiet for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. "What if he wasn't just trying to scare you?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if he was trying to warn you?"
"About … what?"
"Well, you said all of that happened because some of the contestants got to the ground first, right? Maybe that's what he's trying to tell us to do – to make sure we get there first."
"Maybe. But then why wouldn't he just say that? It doesn't exactly sound like a secret."
Lee shrugged. "Maybe not, but he's also not technically our coach. Maybe he's not supposed to be giving advice to the other team."
"Maybe." But Lee hadn't sounded convinced, either. They weren't split into teams – not really. Only two people were going to make it out of this alive, and they'd already said they didn't have to be from the same color. Elena leaned back as a woman in a doctor's uniform scooped up a few of the dirty plates from the table. Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe he had just been trying to give her advice.
But something still felt wrong.
Rick Clifton, 19
Something felt a bit wrong.
Rick took a deep breath as he and Vi made their way outside. Judah had insisted that they take a break for lunch so that they could be ready for their actual training sessions with their coach. Rick stretched his arms, rubbing a few sore spots on his knuckles. At least with Judah, he felt like he was accomplishing something. If nothing else, he was getting a lot of exercise, and he and Vi were pretty evenly matched. Vi was a little taller, while he had a bit more muscle. According to Judah, Rick fought a bit more "aggressively," while Vi could "take a punch better."
All of that was concrete. Measurable. He could tell if he was getting something right. But when it came to his power…
His power. It didn't feel like a power right now. It felt like a pain in the ass. He'd finally been moving on, making something of his life. Maybe it hadn't been much, but it had finally been his. And now … now, even if he won, there was no way they would let him go back to that. All of it was over, because of something he'd never known he had. But still something that was part of him, and that made it even worse. His mother had been a mutant. If he'd known…
Then what? Maybe he would have been a little quicker to catch onto the fact that he was, too, but what difference would it have really made? There was no way he could ever have been ready for this – not in any way that mattered.
Rick took a deep breath. There it was again – that feeling in the air. But that didn't make any sense. Still, no harm in asking. "Has it been raining?"
Vincent nodded. "I was wondering if you'd be able to tell."
Rick glanced up at the sky. Sure enough, there were still a few clouds. "Recently?"
Vincent shrugged noncommittally. "Fairly recently."
"Whose session is before mine?"
"Lunch."
Rick raised an eyebrow. He was being evasive, but there was also a hint of a smile, as if he wanted Rick to know, but also wanted him to be the one to work it out instead. "And before lunch?"
"Who did you see?"
"I could go check the schedule and get my answer."
"Not the point. How much were you paying attention?"
Not enough. But Vi spoke up. "The girl who turned into metal last night – I think she was one of the ones who came back to lunch from this direction. Who was working with her?"
"The boy who can manipulate colors," Rick agreed. "And … the boy who gives people ideas. And the girl who came out of the crowd to scare the other girl. She didn't say what she did." He turned to Vincent. "Weather. She controls the weather, too?"
Vincent nodded. "Good. Very good."
Rick hesitated. Was that good? Someone had a power like his, like his mother's. That was something he hadn't expected. But she already had a group she was working with, and so did he. Well, it wasn't exactly a group, but he had Vi. And that was enough. Only two of them could survive, anyway, so there wasn't much point in asking anyone else.
Vincent nodded again. "I agree."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say anything."
"I know." He gave the pair of them a thorough look. "I see you've been working with Judah a bit."
Vi nodded. "That's what you suggested."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I know. It's just nice for someone to listen to a suggestion."
Rick couldn't help a bit of a smirk. He'd seen one of the other coaches talking to three of the contestants during lunch – the three who had refused to participate in training. What did they think they were going to accomplish by just sitting there? At least he was willing to try to use his power.
"Good."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Okay, how are you doing that? Is that your thing? Reading minds?"
"Not quite." Vincent waved an arm. "It's the wind." He nodded to one of the MAAB members who was nearby, and Rick's collar clicked off. "So let's see if you can change that – which direction a gust of wind is blowing."
Rick blinked. "You want me to make the wind blow the other way?"
Vincent shrugged. "Well, I was thinking you could just nudge it at a little bit of an angle, but if you want to go big—"
"I have no idea how to do any of that."
"I know. From what we can tell, the weather seems to respond more to your emotions than to anything you're directly trying to do – although that could simply be because you've never tried before. So let's start with an emotion. I'm going to switch spots with you so the wind's blowing towards you."
"And then what?" Rick asked, but Vincent was already circling around behind him, smiling a little.
And then you're going to try to stop me.
Makenzie Norwood, 16
She didn't want to stop.
Makenzie grinned as her shadow flew farther and farther away, circling around a bubble that currently contained Evelyn. It wasn't too far above the ground, but height wasn't what they were testing right now. Ian seemed more interested in the distance they could control their powers at. Makenzie had been quick to admit she didn't really have any idea; she'd never had a reason to want to send her shadow away, after all. But now it might be useful.
Useful to … what? Distract someone who was coming after them? Lead them off in the wrong direction if it was dark and she tricked them into thinking they were following an actual person? Maybe. Both of those were good ideas, but they wouldn't really help much when it came to actually fighting.
One thing at a time. That was why she didn't want to stop this, after all. Once their three days of training were over, they would be trying to kill each other. Well, not each other exactly, but the other contestants. And even the thought of that made her stomach churn. Most of the others seemed perfectly nice, or if not nice, then at least not violent. Not terrible people. But the contestants last year had probably been just as nice, just as normal, just as reluctant. And twenty-eight of them were dead.
"You okay?" Kylena asked, her voice a little strained as she tried to focus on keeping the bubble intact. It was clearly getting harder the farther away Evelyn got.
Makenzie nodded. "Yeah. It's just—"
Before she could finish her sentence, however, a gust of wind swept her shadow off to one side. "Whoa!" The bubble went flying, too – not higher, but sharply to one side. Almost immediately, it burst, and Evelyn dropped to the ground.
"I'm fine!" Evelyn called out.
Makenzie breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Kylena called back. "Just a bit of wind, I think, but it got a lot stronger all of a sudden."
"More than just a bit of wind," Ian pointed out. "Look." He nodded towards the trees in the distance, which were shaking in the sudden gust.
"Maybe we should wait until it dies down," Makenzie suggested.
Ian shook his head. "No telling how long that might be. Besides, this gives you the chance to see how well you can control what you're doing when the weather isn't on your side. There's no telling what might happen once you're in the Games."
Makenzie nodded. But there was something in his voice – something he wasn't saying. The wind – was it because of one of the other contestants? Probably. No one the night before had done anything with the wind, but there were plenty of them who hadn't participated. "Okay," Makenzie agreed, then turned to Evelyn. "But maybe you should stay out of flying bubbles for the moment."
Evelyn was still unfolding herself. "Sounds good. I'll just fold up over here or something."
Ian chuckled. "Oh no, you don't. You're going to work on speed. From what I've seen, it takes you a little while to get really small. Or maybe you just like to take your time. So let's see how fast you can do it."
Makenzie turned her attention to her shadow, instead. Okay. Slowly, it lifted off the ground, shaking a bit in the wind, but she managed to keep it in place. Beside her, Kylena was doing the same with one of her bubbles – a bit smaller now that she didn't have to fit it around Evelyn. Almost immediately, the bubble blew away. So did a second, and a third. Kylena grunted in frustration, sending another stream of bubbles into the air.
"Easy," Makenzie coaxed. "It's okay." She spread her shadow out, creating a shield of sorts. "Okay, try making one there – where my shadow will be blocking it from the wind. Once you've got it solid, I'll move the shadow away slowly. Okay?"
Kylena nodded, and slowly, a small bubble appeared. Makenzie grinned. "Okay, now maybe a little bigger. There. Perfect. Ready?"
"Not quite. Maybe … okay, now."
Makenzie flicked her wrist, and her shadow flew up, away from the bubble, flickering back and forth in the wind. The bubble stayed. Kylena was beaming.
Very nice.
Makenzie smiled. "Thanks."
"For what?" Kylena asked. "You're the one who was helping me."
"Didn't you just say…?" But she trailed off, because the voice hadn't been Kylena's. It hadn't really been a voice, exactly – more of a thought. She couldn't help a smile.
"I think I know where the wind's coming from."
Evelyn Hong, 17
"I think I know where the wind's coming from."
Evelyn turned to see Makenzie and Kylena watching their shadow and bubbles blow back and forth in the wind. "You think it's coming from one of the other contestants?" Evelyn asked.
Makenzie nodded. "Makes sense. I just heard Vincent's voice coming from the same direction. Well, not voice exactly, but … it was him."
Evelyn nodded. Makenzie's session with Vincent had been in the morning, as had Kylena's with Maria. She still had no idea what Maria's power was, but Vincent hadn't exactly been shy about using his to talk to them individually, even after they'd insisted that they didn't want to keep secrets from each other. It was almost as if he was showing off.
Ian took a step towards Makenzie. "What did he say?"
Makenzie took a step back. Ian's voice was surprisingly tense. "Nothing much. He just said very nice. I was assuming he was talking about my shadow. It was probably high up enough for him to see it. Why?"
"And you're sure that's all he said?"
Makenzie nodded. "Yeah. Why?"
Evelyn unfolded a little. "Yeah, what's the big deal? Were you waiting for a message or something?"
Ian shook his head. "Didn't even know they were planning to turn his collar off. It's not like it makes a difference for me or Maria, but…" He trailed off.
Evelyn looked up. "So you're worried he'll … what? Keep talking to Makenzie? What's that going to do? I mean, yeah, maybe it means he's not completely focused on whoever he's working with right now, but you're working with three of us, and you're multitasking." She shook her head as Ian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wait. You're not worried about him talking to us. You're worried about him contacting someone else."
Ian shook his head. "He can't."
Evelyn cocked her head a little more than most people would have been able to. "But you're not sure about that – not completely sure, or you wouldn't be so worried."
"I'm not worried."
"Bullshit. You don't want him to be able to contact anyone else. Why?"
"That's not true."
"Then what is going on?"
Ian's face was red. "I just don't want him to get in trouble. That's all."
"And you're worried they'll … what? Ground him? What's the worst they could do? And if there's a chance he might be able to contact someone else––"
"There is no one else." Ian was almost shouting, but he took a long, deep breath. "Look. Whatever you're thinking of, we've tried. Whatever you're imagining, they've thought of. Do you really think they'd let him work with two weather manipulators if they thought there was even a chance of him being able to contact someone that far away?"
"Two?"
"Shit."
"There are two people who can control the weather?"
"I feel like you're missing my point."
"No, I got it. You're too scared to try. What are you worried they're going to do? They're already planning to kill twenty-eight of us. But not you. You're perfectly safe, so maybe it doesn't matter."
Ian sighed. "You done now?"
"What?"
"Are you done now? Because this isn't going to help. He can't contact anyone. And even if he could, what would he tell them, and who would they tell? The government already knows about this. They're the ones pulling the strings. There's no one to tell." He shook his head. "And yeah, I am worried about what they might do to him. Because if they are finally letting him use his power, it's the first time in almost a year. You have no idea what that's done to him. If they take that away again…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Evelyn nodded slowly. Even spending the previous day being unable to use her power, unable to fold up a little to make herself feel more comfortable, unable to relax into any position she wanted – even that had been hard. Last night had been better, and this was already her third session today. And whatever else happened, once they were in the Games, she would be free to use her power. The idea of not being able to for a year was unthinkable.
"So what is he trying to do, then?" Makenzie asked. "I'm sure he was talking to me."
Ian shrugged. "You'd have to ask him. You're one of his contestants; maybe he just wanted to see how you'd react. But the point is, it doesn't really matter." He shook his head.
"So let's get back to what does."
Marcus Del Rio, 19
"Ready to get back in?"
Marcus tried not to shiver as he eased his way back into the pool. Maria had taken Penelope's idea about speeding up time instead of slowing it down and run with it, hoping that holding their breath underwater – under freezing cold water, at that – might be the little nudge they needed in order to get it to work. As far as he could tell, though, he hadn't gotten any better at it. Manaka, meanwhile, had managed to improve his time a little, but none of them seemed really sure whether he was actually speeding up time or just getting used to the cold water.
"Why do you even have a pool here?" Marcus asked as the three of them waded back out to the deeper end.
Maria shrugged. "One of the contestants the MAAB was considering at one point was an aquakinetic. Thought it'd be good to have some water around, just in case. Not a lot of lakes around here."
"Good to know."
"What?"
Marcus shrugged. "Well, if there aren't a lot of lakes around here, not much chance of just happening to stumble across one once the Games start. Although you did say not a lot, which doesn't mean none. And if you were thinking of including some water-manipulators at some point, it wouldn't make much sense to choose somewhere with no water."
"Sound reasoning." Maria's expression gave nothing away – nothing useful, anyway. "Deep breath." She pressed a button on her stopwatch, and all three of them ducked under the water.
Focus. Marcus closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on speeding up time. But that was the trouble, really; he didn't even have to think about slowing it down anymore. It just happened automatically. Trying to do the opposite wasn't just learning something new; it was breaking one habit and trying to learn a whole new one in a matter of days.
Still, both Penelope and Maria had been quick to point out that there was no point in practicing something they were already experts at. The fact that it was effortless now was the whole point; he didn't need to practice anymore. And they could always end their session with a few quick laps around the building, just to keep it up. That wouldn't take long.
Focus.
His lungs were already burning. Had he been slowing down time just by thinking about doing the opposite? Shit. He was never going to get the hang of this. He opened his eyes and risked a glance over at Manaka, who seemed to be struggling, too. Maria, meanwhile, was sitting casually on the bottom of the pool, but poised just right to spring into action if they started to drown or something. As he caught her gaze, she flashed him a thumbs-up sign. But did that mean he was doing better, or was she just trying to be encouraging?
Finally, his lungs couldn't stand the strain. His head broke the water only a few seconds before Manaka did the same, gasping for breath. Maria quickly floated up beside them, stopwatch in hand. "Better. Almost five whole seconds better."
Five seconds. Great. Marcus took a deep breath. Okay. Okay, five seconds was better than nothing.
It was Manaka who said what they were both thinking. "That's it? Five seconds?"
Maria shook her head. "Don't underestimate what a few seconds could do. Think of it as a race. When you're running, five seconds might not seem like much, but how often does a race come down to a few seconds – or even a few milliseconds. Being able to hold on and hold your breath that much longer than someone else – it could mean the difference between life and death."
Marcus nodded. "She's right. I used to play baseball before … well, before all this, and a few seconds can matter. A lot." He got a smile from Manaka, but the truth was, he was trying to convince himself. He'd never needed those few extra seconds in baseball, because he could have given himself even more time – easily – and won by a landslide. That had all been about holding himself back, about not slowing down time too much, because if he looked too good, he might be noticed.
But it hadn't been enough.
Marcus took a deep breath. "Ready to try again?" Maria asked, and he nodded. Practice, practice, practice. That was the important thing right now. Practice something often enough, and it became a habit. Practice a habit enough, and it became a way of life.
Or maybe a way to keep himself alive.
Sybil Herveaux, 21
This wasn't really going to keep her alive.
Sybil flicked her wrist, watching as the starlight danced back and forth in front of her. "Very nice," Maria offered for what must have been the fifth or sixth time, but she seemed completely at a loss about what else to say, or what else to tell her to practice. Maybe that wasn't all that surprising. Sybil was already very good at what she did, but her power wasn't particularly threatening.
"Thought you already knew what we could do in advance," Sybil shrugged.
"We did," Maria confirmed. "And I pointed out – several times – that your power wouldn't be particularly…"
"Useful?"
"As far as fighting goes, yes. I did suggest that you might want to spend some time with Judah."
Sybil shook her head. There was no point. There was nothing she was going to learn about fighting in a matter of days that would really be useful – not against mutants with powers so much stronger than her own. No, she needed a different kind of advantage.
"And to be honest," Maria admitted, "I figured your power might be useful in combination with someone else's. Since two people can survive, we figured most people would want some sort of a partnership, an alliance."
"Oh, I'll have one," Sybil assured her.
Maria raised an eyebrow. "With … who?"
"Frederick."
"Frederick," Maria repeated. "I take it he doesn't know about this?"
"Not yet."
"Right. Look, you might want to talk to him before assuming that he'll want to work with you. It looked like he was working with a group. Now, if you're interested in joining them—"
"No."
Maria blinked. "Okay. So then what's the plan?"
Sybil shrugged noncommittally. There was no plan. Not really. Not yet. But she wasn't about to let Maria know that. "I figured I'd play it by ear."
To her surprise, Maria nodded. "Actually, that might not be a bad idea."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because all of this – the training, splitting up into groups, finding people to work with – it's all well and good, but all of that could go right down the drain in a few seconds once the Games start. Even if you find the perfect person to work with, that's no guarantee that they'll still be there after a day or two."
"You mean it's no guarantee that they'll still be alive."
"Yeah."
"He will be."
"You're sure about that?"
Sybil shrugged. "Seems pretty stupid to go after a guy who can melt anything he touches."
"Unless your power doesn't require you to touch someone in order to kill them," Maria pointed out. "No one here is invincible – and that's deliberate. They wouldn't have picked someone they weren't certain they could catch. And if someone can be caught, they can be killed."
Sybil rolled her eyes. "Sure, but a lot of us came along peacefully. If he'd really wanted to resist…"
"He would have been caught anyway," Maria said firmly. "Oh, he might have managed to melt a sentinel or two along the way, but that's it. There are always more of them – and there are plenty of you."
Sybil hesitated. "So you don't think I should work with him?"
Maria shook her head. "I'm saying it's a good idea to keep your options open. You've still got two days before the Games, and even then … Once the Games started last year, groups shifted around as people got separated, people left, people died, people found new groups. Flexibility is good, so it's fine if you don't have a plan set in stone right now."
"I never said—"
"You didn't have to. I know how to recognize someone who's winging a project. It's a teacher thing."
"You're a teacher?"
"I was. I guess it's … one of those things I'm trying to hold onto. Something that feels real when all this … doesn't."
Sybil nodded. That made sense. So much of this didn't quite feel real yet.
"In the meantime," Maria continued. "Let's see if we can figure out something for you to try with that starlight of yours. I've noticed it's not really tangible, but if you have enough of it in one spot, do you think you'd be able to create a small barrier that you couldn't see through?"
"What good would that do?"
Maria waved a hand in front of her face. "I was thinking a blindfold. If you get enough of it around someone's eyes to stop them from seeing you, or even enough to get them to reach up and try to swat it away, that could give you an advantage."
Sybil blinked. She hadn't thought of that. Probably wouldn't have thought of that. "And then I'd be able to kill them," she finished, filling in the part Maria hadn't said.
Maria nodded. "Now you're getting it."
Elio Haines, 16
They weren't getting anywhere.
Elio drummed his fingers on the table as another group of contestants came back from their training sessions. Most of them seemed to have found someone to work with – in most cases, more than one someone. But none of them seemed interested in joining up with him, Lea, and Jaime.
Maybe it had been too much to expect it to happen right away. Maybe it would take time. Maybe once they were a few days into the Games, people would begin to realize that it didn't have to be this way. Yes, that was it. He would just have to be patient. They all would. For now, they just had to stay strong.
It wasn't easy. He had wanted to go with Ian earlier; he really had. Not for training, necessarily, but just for the chance to use his power. Sure, he could still pray without it; anyone could. But God's presence always seemed stronger when he could visibly see that light, that reminder that he wasn't alone. That someone was watching.
He would just have to wait. Once the Games began, their collars would be turned off, and everything would be clear again. He would have direction. Clarity. Purpose. It was hard to remember a time when he hadn't had those. So he was clinging desperately to the idea that this is what God wanted him to do.
He just wished he knew for sure.
"Not interested," Elio answered automatically as Vincent approached. After Ian had approached them in the morning, Maria had come over before lunch to try to talk Lea into coming to her session. Penelope was the only one who had left them alone now, but she wasn't coaching any of them.
Vincent shook his head. "Not here for you, Enjolras." He turned to Jaime. "If you change your mind, I'll be right outside." Immediately, he turned to go.
Jaime looked up, a bit surprised. "That's it?"
Vincent turned back, and Elio was sure he saw a hint of a smile. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Jaime shook their head. "It's just that the others … Ian and Maria were a bit more … persuasive."
"And did it help?"
"No."
"Then yeah, that's it. I could stand here and argue with you, and the three of you could dig in even deeper, or I could go enjoy a nice, relaxing hour to myself for the first time in ages." He shrugged. "I'll see you if you change your mind."
Elio watched him leave. After a moment, one of the MAAB members – the one who had introduced herself as Anita – headed out after him. "Something's going on," he whispered.
Lea raised an eyebrow. "Why are you whispering?"
Elio opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came to him. It had just felt right, like something that should be kept a secret. "You never know who's listening," he offered.
"Sure we go," Jaime pointed out. "They're all listening." They pointed to a few cameras in the corners of the room. "I mean, maybe they're not all listening right now, but they could always go back and listen later if they suspect we're doing something."
"We are doing something," Elio insisted.
"But they already know what it is," Lea reasoned.
Elio nodded. She was right. "But I don't think we know everything that they're doing." He turned to Jaime. "You don't think it was suspicious that he didn't even try to convince you to come outside, after he was the one that was trying to get us to shut up yesterday?"
"Maybe he's tired of arguing," Jaime offered.
Elio hesitated. Jaime's tone of voice was enough to hint that they were tired of arguing. That maybe if Vincent had tried a little harder, made a slightly more compelling argument, they might have gone with him.
Elio took a deep breath. He wasn't just getting nowhere; he was losing ground. Jaime wasn't convinced, and he couldn't really blame them. But this was the right thing. Wasn't it?
It had to be. Peace. Non-violence. How often had he said those words? How often had he seen other people live them? Who was he to give up now, before the Games had even started? Who was he to even consider giving up on what he believed in, and for what? A moment or two of clarity that would probably just make him feel guilty that he had ever doubted that this was right?
But…
But it had to be a choice, or it didn't mean anything at all. They had to freely choose this – all of them. And if Jaime really wanted to leave, if they really thought that was what they should do, who was he to tell them otherwise? They had to stick together, but maybe that didn't mean they all had to do exactly the same thing.
Maybe they didn't even have to think the same thing.
Dr. Anita Donohue, 35
What were you thinking?
Anita had to fight not to scream the words out loud. Vincent was standing perfectly still, eyes closed as if focusing on something. Anita took a step to one side. I know you can hear me. What were you thinking?
"About what?" He still didn't move a muscle, but she knew he was being careful with his words. They could be talking about anything, from what he'd said. There were cameras nearby, of course, but they could only hear his words – and how they both reacted.
So she took a deep breath, trying to keep her expression calm, her thoughts clear. When I turned your collar off this morning, you promised not to do anything stupid.
"And you think I did?"
You've practically been showing off, sending thoughts into their heads when you could have just said something. Makenzie, Evelyn, and Kylena are already asking whether you can use your power to contact other people outside the area. And what the hell were you thinking telling Elena about Diana?
"Do you think she worked it out?"
No, and you're lucky.
"Am I?"
You've practically been screaming that you're the one leaking information to Piper. But there's no way you could be. You didn't have access to the right information – not at the right time. We had those files before you did – the files for the contestants we were considering. Piper got to some of them before we had a chance to give the files to you four. It can't be you, so what are you doing? Are you trying to make them suspicious?
Vincent finally opened his eyes. "Yes."
"Why?" Anita blurted before she realized she'd said it out loud.
Vincent's face was carefully blank as he circled around her. Because if they suspect that it's me, then they won't know it's you.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Had she been that obvious? She'd tried to be careful. She'd tried to cover her tracks. But the fact was, this wasn't something she'd been trained for. It wasn't even close. She was a doctor, not a spy. But her mother—
I don't think they suspect. Vincent's words rushed at her. But it's only a matter of time. Penelope's laying another trail for them – for the contestants, mostly. If anyone, the contestants will think the leak is Alvin. And the rest of your people will think it's me.
Her people. What did he mean by that? The MAAB? Humans? Anita opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. If she said something, they would hear. She took a deep breath, hoping one word would do the trick. "Why?" Why was he helping her? Penelope … that made sense. Anita's mother had taken Penelope in when she'd had no one. She'd probably been one of the few people in the world who had ever wanted to give the girl a normal life. But Vincent…
Because I'm a sucker. There was a bitterness in the words even as a thought. Whatever you're trying to accomplish, it won't work. There's no way it will work. But if I don't at least try to help you, I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if maybe it could have worked, if only I'd helped. If only I'd been willing to do something. He shrugged. This way, I don't have to wonder. He ran his fingers along the side of his collar. So make it work.
"How?"
You have to turn me in.
"But—"
They know you're out here. They'll want to know what you were doing. They'll take one look at that video footage and know you were talking to me – and that I was talking to you. You have to get there first. You have to give them something. Tell them you suspect what I've been doing. Pick a reason why; I gave you plenty to choose from. Tell them I should be closely monitored, and turn this damn thing back on. He gave his collar a tap.
He was right. She hated it, but he was right. She shook her head. "I told you not to do anything stupid," she insisted, hoping her tone was convincing.
Vincent smirked convincingly. "Force of habit."
She turned the collar back on. "I'll have to tell them."
"I know." He shrugged. "It was nice while it lasted." Then he smiled – genuinely this time – as he caught sight of the door behind her. Anita was sure no one else would notice how tightly his fists were clenched as he made his way past her towards the figure beside the door.
"Good to see you, Jaime."
"Only we can protect each other ... We must be united and strong."
