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Fair
Secretary Nicholas Wright, 64
March 23rd, 22:58 MST
It didn't seem fair, somehow.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair, watching the screens. Iola, Kiara, and Fae were still searching for Manaka. It was slow going in the dark, and they weren't quite headed in the right direction, but once dawn came, there would be three pairs of eyes looking for a stationary target on a rather featureless space. He wouldn't stand a chance.
"Doesn't quite seem fair, does it," Nicholas muttered. "Three of them, one of him."
Mack leaned back in his chair. "Are we talking about Marcus or Manaka?"
"Both, I suppose," Nicholas admitted.
Mack shrugged. "Would've been three against two if they hadn't gone too close to the border. And it was Marcus' choice to go back and fight. He could've just kept going."
"And gone where? Done what?"
Mack nodded. "Point taken. Still, his choice. Never said there were any better choices. The better choice would've been to fight at the start rather than running towards the border for days."
"They didn't know there was a border," Nicholas reasoned.
"They would have if they'd thought about it," Mack pointed out. "Did they think we were just going to let them keep going? They had to have known we had a way to turn them around. Just like if they were thinking about it, Seb and Alphonso would realize they can't just stay in that house forever."
Nicholas nodded. "I take it you think Vincent was on the right track, sending Jaime and Kylena that map."
"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Mack reasoned.
Nicholas said nothing. Jaime and Kylena were creeping slowly towards the house, knives in hand. What they were planning to do with them, however, was anybody's guess. Kill the dog? Maybe. But in order to get close enough for the knives to do them any good, they'd have to risk being clawed and bitten. And it was a big dog. Two people with knives against a large dog? They might manage to kill it, but it would take a while, and they certainly wouldn't get out unharmed, and that was just to get to the house. That certainly didn't seem like a good plan.
Besides, Kylena had said that they should use Jaime's power. But what had she meant by that? Were they planning to injure the dog, then wait for someone to emerge from the house and redirect the pain to them? Maybe not a bad plan, but again, it depended on being able to actually hurt the dog without getting too badly hurt themselves.
Jaime had suggested making a big enough bubble to hold the dog, but even if that worked, it would likely take all of Kylena's concentration to hold it, which would leave Jaime facing Seb and Alphonso by themself. Of course, Seb and Alphonso were both asleep, but they wouldn't be for long if the dog started barking. Nicholas shook his head, watching the screen as the pair of them crept closer.
He would just have to wait and see.
Jaime Sanchez, 20
They would just have to wait and see whether this would work.
Jaime held their breath as they and Kylena made their way slowly towards the house. But not too close. Not yet. Not while the dog was still there. Hoping they were still too far away to be noticed, the two of them settled down and took off their backpacks, removing a few of the beef sticks. The dog didn't seem to notice. The wind seemed to be blowing in the right direction to avoid the scent being blown towards the dog.
Now they just had to wait. Every so often, the dog would pace around a little, glancing this way and that. They just had to wait for the right moment and—
There. Just as the dog turned in their direction, Jaime pinched themself. Not too hard – just enough to transfer a little pain to the dog. Not enough to make it bark or even whine a little. Just enough to make it turn the other way instead. As soon as it looked the other way, they stopped channeling the pain. Kylena glanced in their direction, silently questioning. Jaime nodded. It had worked.
Now they just had to keep it up.
Little by little, bit by bit, they silently nudged the dog so that it was facing the other way – and occasionally taking a step or two away from them to avoid the little pinch of pain. Finally, Jaime nodded at Kylena. They were the stick; Kylena was the carrot. Silently, Kylena sliced off a little bit of one of the beef sticks and formed a small bubble around it, then floated it in the dog's direction, landing the little bit of meat a few feet from the dog. A few feet farther away from them. The bubble popped as it hit the ground, allowing the scent to break free.
Sure enough, the dog followed the smell. Slowly, one bit of meat at a time, Kylena led the dog away from the house. Every so often, it would turn back a little – maybe wondering where the bubbles were coming from – but every time, Jaime was ready for it, a little pinch of pain reminding it why turning back wasn't a good idea.
Bit by bit. Farther and farther away from the house. They were making progress, but they couldn't keep going forever. Even the amount of food they had taken from the circle would eventually run out. Would the dog even go after something that wasn't meat? Maybe. Some dogs would eat pretty much anything, after all. But this one didn't exactly look like a friendly little house dog.
Of course not. Assuming it hadn't already been here, that meant the boy who could create things by writing them had probably written this dog into existence specifically to be a guard dog. They were lucky this was working as well as it was. Lucky that the dog had still been designed or programmed or whatever with the need to eat. Lucky that it could still feel pain.
Jaime cringed at the thought. The dog hadn't done anything to them. The dog wouldn't even have to die in order for them to live. Which was why they'd rejected the idea of trying to kill it almost as soon as it had occurred to them. Almost. This was better. This was kinder.
That was what they kept trying to tell themself.
Jaime held their breath as they lured the dog towards a tree a few hundred yards away from the house. Slowly, very slowly, Kylena drew the rope out of one of the backpacks and, holding tightly to one end, fastened the other end into a lasso. Or something close enough to a lasso. They wouldn't need to throw it, after all. It didn't need to be perfect. Just good enough to hold the dog for a little while…
Slowly, carefully, Kylena formed a bubble around part of the rope, and a second around several of the beef sticks – as many as they had left. She floated the beef sticks closer to the dog. Closer. Closer. Finally, she popped the bubble, and the food toppled to the ground. The dog bent down to eat, wolfing down the food as quickly as it could.
Which meant they would have to be fast. Kylena quickly floated the rope closer to the dog, the lasso end dangling down towards the dog's head, ready to loop around it. Jaime held tightly to the other end of the rope. Kylena glanced at them, mouthing the word Ready?
Jaime nodded. As soon as the dog lifted its head, Kylena drew the bubble back, and the lasso looped around the dog's neck. Immediately, Jaime raced towards the tree, ready to tie the other end in place. The dog lunged towards them just as they reached the tree, claws out. Pain slashed across Jaime's face, but only for an instant. The dog yelped, surprised, as the pain was immediately reflected back at it.
That gave Jaime the time they needed. They looped the rope around the tree, knotted it, and ran back towards Kylena as the dog kept barking. "Are you all right?" Kylena gasped when she saw Jaime's face.
Jaime nodded. "Doesn't hurt. That's good enough for now. Come on. That barking will probably wake whoever's in the house. We have to get back there quickly."
"Are you sure—"
"Yes!" Jaime snapped. "That's why we were doing this in the first place. Let's go!" They reached up and wiped away some of the blood from their face as the two of them raced back towards the house. They clenched their fists, gasping for breath. They'd taken care of the dog, and all it had cost them was a few scratches and quite a few beef sticks.
Now they would find out if it was worth it.
Alphonso Bell-Garcia, 15
Was it really worth getting up again?
Alphonso groaned and rolled over a little, which would have been fine if he'd been in bed. Unfortunately, however, he'd apparently passed out on the couch, and rolling over a little in response to the dog's incessant barking meant that he'd rolled off the couch and onto the floor. "Damn it," he muttered, staggering to his feet. "Seb, can you do something about that dog?"
"You're already up," Seb muttered from his position in the armchair. "You go see what spooked him."
Alphonso took a few unsteady steps towards the table, where he'd left his gun lying just in case. Or at least, that was the most logical explanation. He didn't remember doing that, but someone must have. Maybe it had been Seb. Everything was still a bit fuzzy. He'd said just one drink, but he should have known better. It was never just one drink. And now he would just have to wait out the effects.
One of which, unfortunately, was that he had very little influence over Seb right now. Normally, the older boy would have done what he'd asked, as long as it was within reason. Maybe even if it wasn't. He would certainly have gotten up to check the door and see what the dog wanted. That was what he'd done the night before, every time Alphonso had asked. And every time, there had been nothing there.
Still, better safe than sorry, so Alphonso snatched up the gun, gripping it in a shaky hand. After all, what was the point of having a guard dog if they were just going to assume it was barking at nothing? "Take it easy! I'm coming!" he called out to the dog, then realized his mistake. "Unless there's someone out there! Then I'm not coming!" There. That ought to do it.
Alphonso took a few more steps, swayed, leaned on the door for a moment to get his bearings, and then threw the door open. Immediately, something lunged out of the shadows to the left of the door and threw him to the ground. Pain. Pain struck his neck as he desperately fired the gun. But he couldn't see – couldn't see anything except the figure on top of him, pulling the knife out of his neck.
Someone else kicked the gun away. "Seb!" Alphonso tried to shout, but all that came out was a muffled, gurgling sound. Blood poured from the wound in his neck. Where was that damn dog? It was still barking, but it hadn't done a thing. In fact, the sound seemed to be coming from farther away.
Oh.
They had lured the dog away somehow. Smart. Alphonso's vision was starting to blur as his attackers moved on into the house. Maybe Seb would have better luck than he had. Maybe that was all it was, really – bad luck. If Seb had come and opened the door instead…
But he hadn't. Alphonso closed his eyes. Even the pain was starting to fade. He couldn't breathe, but maybe that was all right. Even the thought of breathing hurt right now. Soon, it would all be over. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.
What had he been so afraid of?
Seb Krause, 16
What had he been thinking?
Seb leapt to his feet as the other two contestants raced into the room, knives in hand. Seb glanced around frantically for something – anything – to fight with. Or anything to write with. But he'd fallen asleep in the armchair, with nothing nearby to grab. What had he been thinking, not keeping something near him? What had he been thinking, letting Alphonso check the door alone? He could still hear barking, but it was distant. Maybe Phantom had run away, leaving Alphonso to fend for himself.
Alphonso. What had happened to him? Was he dead? Had he gotten away? Maybe this pair hadn't even bothered with him. It had to be Seb that they were after, didn't it?
It certainly was now. One of them lunged towards Seb, and he could see that there was already blood on their knife. Alphonso. Seb dodged the first blow, trying to make a move towards the table, where there was a pen. But what would he write? What would he have time to write?
Nothing, unless he got to the pen. The other contestant, a girl about his age, sidestepped a little, blocking his path to the table. The other contestant lunged again, diving for his legs. He dodged, but only barely. He could hardly see in the light of the fire from the candle lamp that hung near the armchair.
Fire.
As the other contestant lunged again, Seb reached up and grabbed the candle lamp, hurling it to the floor. The glass broke, and the candle toppled over. Seb took a step back, expecting flames to burst from the floor, but nothing happened. Just … nothing. Damn it. What had he been expecting? For the whole house to immediately go up in smoke? Maybe that didn't happen in real life. Certainly not that quickly—
The girl near the table rushed forward and snuffed out what was left of the flame. It was dark now – dark as the other contestant lunged towards him again, their knife slicing at his shirt, trying to drive him back towards the wall. The barking in the distance seemed to be growing louder, but maybe that was just his imagination. Maybe that was just wishful thinking—
Blood. Blood trickled from the wound in his stomach. Seb froze. Would that work? Maybe. Did he have time? He would have to try. He reached down, dipping his finger in the blood.
"Don't let him write anything!" a voice shouted, and immediately a gunshot rang out. Then another. Then a third. Four. Five. Then a clicking sound that meant the chamber was empty. Seb stared at the girl by the table. Where had she gotten a gun?
Alphonso.
She'd taken Alphonso's gun.
Seb staggered back against the wall, blood flowing from his chest. What had he been planning to write anyway? What would get him out of this? He slumped to the floor, vision blurring, Phantom's barking still ringing in his ears. He had to try something. What was it Alphonso had said during training?
He'd said a lot of things.
What if you wrote something ridiculous? Could you make another you?
If there was ever the time to try something ridiculous, it was now.
Slowly, clumsily, Seb's fingers scrawled three letters. Then everything went black, just in time for him to hear one of the other contestants ask the question.
"What did he write?"
Kylena Albright, 16
"What did he write?"
Kylena barely heard the words as Jaime quickly made their way towards the boy. Towards the body. Kylena simply stood, staring, eyes fixed on the gun in her hands. She'd shot the boy. But he'd been about to write … something. Maybe something that would have killed them. Maybe something that would have destroyed the entire house, like he'd probably been trying to do when he'd smashed the lamp on the floor.
Jaime pulled a flashlight out of one of the backpacks, shining a light on the floor where the boy had scrawled a word in his own blood. Jaime's forehead creased in confusion. "What's a seb?"
"His name," Kylena said softly. "I think his name was Seb." The gun clattered to the floor as she finally let it go. She flinched, half-expecting another shot to go off, but she'd used all of them. She'd fired and fired until the gun was empty. She'd just been so scared of what the boy might do. Scared of what his power might do.
Scared because he was a mutant.
Kylena blinked the tears from her eyes, trying to tell herself that it wasn't the same. It wasn't that she had been scared because he was a mutant. It was because he was a mutant in a fight to the death who would have had to kill her in order to win. But the truth was, he hadn't tried to kill her. He hadn't made a move against either her or Jaime. Neither had the other boy, the one Jaime had stabbed in the throat and left to bleed out in the doorway. He'd just stepped out of the door to see what had frightened the dog.
They had. They had frightened the dog. They had killed the two boys. Kylena shook her head, still staring at the body in disbelief. "What?" she asked, vaguely aware that Jaime had said something.
"I said, why would he write his own name?" Jaime asked. "What was he trying to do? Make another version of himself? Write himself some allies so that he wouldn't have to fight alone?"
Kylena shook her head. "He wasn't trying to fight. He just wanted to escape."
Jaime stood up, their eyes fixed on Kylena. "Maybe. But he would have eventually tried to kill us. If not now, then later, if he lived long enough. Remember that. You killed him because that's what you had to do. That's what we both had to do. Okay?"
"Okay." Kylena's voice was shaky. "It's just … the house, the guns, the dog. I don't think they wanted to kill anyone. I think they just wanted to be safe."
"Just like us."
"But—"
Jaime grasped Kylena's shoulders firmly. "But nothing. We're alive. They're dead. That's it, Kylena. That's all there is to it. If they're dead, they can't kill us."
"So you think he's dead."
Jaime glanced down at the corpse. "Looks pretty dead to me."
"I mean … what he wrote … What if something did happen?"
Jaime gave Kylena's shoulders a squeeze. "Then we deal with it. Together. Just like we dealt with this." They cocked their head. "Do you hear that?"
Kylena hesitated a moment, listening. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly."
It took Kylena a moment to realize what they meant. But then she and Jaime both headed for the door as quickly as they could.
The dog had stopped barking.
Seb
The dog had stopped barking.
Seb stared up at the sky, confused. The sky was … furry? No. No, that wasn't right. The fur was warm and thick and … close. The sky wouldn't be close. Seb reached up with a shaky hand. There was something on top of him, keeping him warm. Licking his face. A dog.
Phantom.
He remembered.
Seb groaned and tried to roll over. Everything hurt, but especially his chest. He reached up, expecting to feel a hole in his shirt. Instead, there was no shirt. No pants. No … nothing. He was naked. He felt his chest, his fingers tracing where the bullet holes should have been. There was … something there. Scars, maybe. He couldn't see very well. There were a few stars, but it was so hard to focus. It was as if someone had taken his brain and just … shuffled everything.
Maybe it had been him. He remembered writing his own name, hoping against hope that it might be enough to save him. And apparently it had. But where was he?
Where had he wanted to be?
Somewhere safe – that was where. Somewhere away from the house and the contestants who had attacked him. Was that why he was here? Had he … wished himself here somehow, when he had written his name? Maybe. That made about as much sense as anything else. Slowly, Seb sat up in the dark, nudging Phantom off of him, then reached up to rub his neck, which ached, but not as much as his chest. What had he been lying on?
Seb stopped as his hand touched his neck. His neck, but not his collar. His collar was gone. Probably wherever his clothes had gone. That meant … what? The MAAB couldn't stop him from using his power? But it wasn't as if he had a pen anyway.
But he hadn't needed a pen – or any sort of writing utensil – to write himself here. He'd written his name in his own blood. There wasn't any blood now, but there was still the ground. Seb reached down, hoping for dirt, and sure enough, there was a little. Not much. Not enough to make the ground softer than the rock. But enough to write something. Maybe just a shirt, or a blanket, or something more than a dog to keep himself warm.
Carefully, he traced the word blanket in the dirt, then waited. No, that wasn't right. Waiting wasn't right. Things had always appeared instantly when he'd written them. So what was happening now?
He tried again. Pillow. Nothing. Had he done this, too? Wished his powers away somehow? It was what he'd always wanted, after all – to get rid of them. If he hadn't been a mutant, he would have been safe. His family would have been safe. His uncle would have been safe.
If he hadn't been a mutant, his uncle would be alive.
What if he wasn't a mutant anymore? Did that mean he was safe? Did that mean the rules of the Games didn't apply to him? Maybe, but he couldn't count on it. And he was far too tired to try to figure it out right now.
Seb lay back down and held out a hand to Phantom. The dog obediently flopped down on top of him, shielding him from the cold. Seb winced. The dog's breath smelled like … beef? That didn't make sense, either. Oh, he and Alphonso had fed Phantom earlier that night, but they'd been eating seafood, not beef. It didn't make any sense.
Later. He could figure it out later. Right now, he needed some sleep. Seb closed his eyes.
It could wait until tomorrow.
Caihong Lee, 25
"We can worry about catching them tomorrow."
Lee yawned as he lay down next to Elena. He'd just woken Liv for her shift, although he doubted she'd actually been asleep. Lee shut his eyes, trying to tell himself that that wasn't his problem. If Liv wanted to stay awake all night, that was her business.
Liv's voice cut through the beginnings of sleep. "And then what?"
Lee opened his eyes. "Hmm?"
"Once we catch up to them … then what?"
"We fight, I guess." That was what they were here for, wasn't it? That was what Liv had wanted at the start of the Games – for them to charge in fighting. What was her problem now?
"With what?"
Ah. So that was it. "Decided a fistfight wasn't the best way to go, huh?"
Liv nodded. "I mean, Elena can pack quite a punch, but the two of us…"
"You worried about getting shown up?"
"What? No, I just … I'd like to go into this with something other than our fists, if we can."
"There are plenty of rocks around," Lee offered. "A couple trees. Maybe we could manage to carve some sort of spears or something, if we had something to carve them with."
Liv nodded. "Like you said, there are rocks. We could use those to sharpen the tips of some branches, I guess, but that still doesn't seem like much of a weapon when…"
"When we have no idea what the other group can do," Lee finished.
"Yeah."
Lee stared up at the stars. "Having second thoughts about following them?"
"No." The answer was quick. A little too quick, perhaps. "For all we know, their powers could be … well, more like ours."
"Useless?" Lee suggested.
"I didn't say that."
"Didn't have to. Liv, I make things different colors. That's it. We knew during training that our powers weren't exactly the most impressive, but here we are. We've survived this long. It's been four days, and we're still here. Having a flashy power isn't everything."
"Sure wouldn't hurt," Liv muttered.
Lee sighed. "Look, let's just wait until morning, get some rest, and then figure out our next move. I can keep watch a little longer if you want to get some sleep."
Liv shook her head. "Don't think I'd be able to anyway. So I might as well keep watch."
Lee closed his eyes. "Suit yourself." At least he would be able to sleep. Well, probably. Almost definitely. He was certainly tired enough. He rolled over a little, trying to find a more comfortable position. He was going to get some sleep. Whatever happened tomorrow, he was going to need it. Even if they didn't catch up to the other contestants, they still had a lot of walking ahead of them, just like the last few days. As long as they kept going, as long as they kept making progress, maybe it didn't matter how long it took them to catch up to the other group.
But how long could they really keep it up? He had no idea how far they'd walked over the last few days, but they had to be quite a ways from where they'd started by now. How long would the MAAB just let them keep going? They had to have some way of stopping them, didn't they?
Sleep. Lee tried to relax, tried to stop his mind from racing. Worrying about what would happen tomorrow wouldn't do anyone any good. He needed rest. He needed to relax. But knowing that they were this close to a few of the other contestants … well, maybe it had made all of them a bit jumpy.
Except Elena. She was snoring soundly, almost peacefully. Lee fought back a wave of envy. He could be sleeping, too. He should be sleeping. He just had to lie there and wait. Wait for the exhaustion of the day to set in, wait for his mind to decide it was time to switch off.
He just wished sleep would come sooner.
Manaka Shizue, 16
He just wished Marcus would come back.
Manaka shifted a little as the wind began to pick up. He'd heard some barking a little while ago, and then something that had sounded like a wolf howling, but it had sounded pretty far away. Still, he would feel better if Marcus was here. He always seemed to know what he was doing.
Which was silly, of course. Marcus was just as lost and confused as the rest of them, just as unsure about what to do next or how many of the other contestants were left. He'd been just as quick to run and just as reluctant to fight. But there was still something – some sort of certainty about him. Maybe it was just that he reminded Manaka of Lei. Lei always seemed to have everything figured out, too.
Manaka opened his eyes, staring up at the stars – or where the stars probably would have been, if his vision weren't still a bit blurry. Maybe none of them really had it figured out. None of them had seen the Games coming, after all. He'd assumed he was safe with Lei, and Lei had always seemed to believe that, too. And Marcus had known that the government knew he was a mutant, and yet he'd never expected anything like this. They'd never expected the government to be able to get away with something like this.
They should have known better.
He should have known better.
Manaka closed his eyes. Maybe it had all been a mistake – coming to America with Lei, leaving Japan, running away from his family in the first place. Whatever they might have thought, however they might have reacted, it would certainly have been better than this. Better than dying here, alone, abandoned.
Abandoned. It was certainly starting to feel like that was true. Whether Marcus had left or whether he was dead, it was pretty clear by now that he wasn't coming back. Manaka wasn't sure how long it had been, but it had felt like hours. And the fact that he had left the supplies … well, that probably meant that he had intended to come back, but now…
Now he was gone. Marcus was gone. Marcus was probably dead. And he would probably be next, if he didn't figure something out. But what?
Suddenly, he could hear footsteps in the dark. Manaka's eyes flew open. Someone was coming closer. Running closer. Manaka almost shouted out, hoping it would be Marcus, but the figure wasn't running fast enough. Whoever it was, they certainly looked tired. Maybe tired enough not to notice him…
As the figure got closer, however, Manaka could see them slow to a stop. The figure took a step closer. Then another. Maybe wondering if Manaka was asleep. This close, Manaka could finally see that it was, in fact, only one shape. One of the older boys. Well, older than him, at least, although that didn't narrow it down much. And whoever he was, he had definitely noticed Manaka, so there was no point in pretending.
Manaka sat up slowly, trying not to give away how much effort it took, trying his best to appear nonchalant. Confident. As if he had it all figured out.
Just like Marcus.
"Hello there," he called out into the darkness. "What's your hurry?"
The boy took a few cautious steps closer. "Oh, not much. Just a werewolf chasing me. Vampire, too, most likely. From the sound of the howling I heard earlier, they finally dug their way out of that cave." He bent over, breathing hard. He certainly didn't seem to be in much shape for a fight, but neither was Manaka. "You alone, kid?"
Manaka bit back a lump in his throat. "I … I think so."
The boy was fingering something in his pocket. Maybe a weapon. But if it was a weapon, why hadn't he used it? Why was he still talking? Manaka sat up a little more, and the boy's face shone in the dim starlight. Tired, unsure, not really wanting a fight but not sure how to get out of one. Please, he seemed to be saying. Just give me a reason not to do it.
Manaka smiled a little. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For the warning. About the werewolf and the vampire. You go. I'll hold them off for you."
"You'll … what?"
It was working. Maybe he sounded certain enough. Maybe the boy was just too tired to argue, or to think clearly. "I'll hold them off," Manaka repeated. "Well, try to, at least. I mean, look at me. You could kill me right here, but why? What would it gain you? A few supplies?" He held out his bag to the older boy. "Take them. I don't think I'd be able to carry them right now anyway. Actually," he corrected, taking one of the water bottles and a half-full bag of trail mix from the pack, along with the bottle of painkillers, "that seems about right. You take the rest."
The older boy peered at him, confused. "You're hoping that if I let you live, the vampire and werewolf might do the same if you tell them which way I went, aren't you."
Manaka stifled a laugh. "You think they'd need me to tell them? If they've tracked you this far, they can sort out your scent from mine."
"Then what do you get out of this?"
Manaka shrugged. "I get to live a little longer."
And that was it. That was all he was bargaining for now. A little more time. Just a little longer, probably. But that was something. And then maybe he could get a little more, and a little more. Manaka smiled. He felt strangely lightheaded. Giddy, almost. Maybe that was the electricity. Maybe it was the adrenaline.
Or maybe this was just how it felt to have nothing to lose.
Frederick Bouvy, 17
What did he have to lose?
Frederick reached out and took the bag the younger boy was holding out to him. For a moment, he thought about taking off his glove and just touching him instead. That was all it would take. One touch. He would just have to make sure not to grab ahold of hair this time. If someone's skin turned to goo, they certainly wouldn't survive very long. But that seemed like such a horrible way to go.
There was another option, of course. He still had his gun. But shooting the younger boy here, like this … It just felt wrong. It was … well, it was a waste of a good bullet, for a start. Yes. Yes, that was it. Maybe a reason. Maybe an excuse. Maybe it didn't matter.
It was enough.
Frederick nodded a little, slung the bag over his back on top of the other, smaller one he'd taken from the mouth of the cave. "Good luck."
The boy's smile widened a little. "You, too."
Frederick turned and took off again, making his way through the dark as fast as he could. As fast as he dared. He couldn't afford to trip and get hurt – not with a vampire and a werewolf on his tail.
Well, probably on his tail. He'd heard howling, and he hadn't stayed still long enough to find out whether they were actually chasing him. Why wouldn't they? He'd stolen their supplies. They would probably be able to figure out from the smell that he'd been alone. Two against one. Maybe three. He'd seen a bat and heard a wolf, but he had no way of knowing whether the boy they'd been working with was still alive, too.
Not that it really mattered. Two against one or three against one – there wasn't much of a difference there. If they caught up to him, he was dead. Well, probably dead. Unless he got very lucky, he was dead.
Frederick clenched his fists as he ran. He'd gotten lucky before. It was luck that had led him to the cave in the first place – luck that he'd spotted the bat and been able to follow it for as long as he had. Luck that they'd decided to head into the cave and hadn't left anyone outside to stand guard. He'd gotten lucky already.
But he couldn't count on it happening again.
And the boy he'd just left – he'd gotten lucky, too. Had that been the right choice, leaving him alive? He could have made his death quick, rather than whatever the vampire and the werewolf would do to him. Eat him? Drink his blood? Frederick shuddered. Maybe he should have just ended it.
But it was too late now. Too late to go back. He couldn't afford to lose any more time. And maybe the boy would get lucky. It felt strange, hoping for that, but … well, two of them could win. He didn't have to kill everyone he came across. It wasn't as if he had anyone he was working with, anyone he was trying to keep alive besides himself. Hell, keeping himself alive was proving to be hard enough.
Still…
Frederick shook the thought from his head. No. No, if he was going to team up with anyone at this point, it wasn't going to be someone who was half-dead already, lying on the ground and just waiting for a werewolf to come along and kill them. He would need to find someone who could pull their own weight.
That had never been Seb and Alphonso. It had never really been Sybil. Her power had been interesting, but it hadn't been useful. Seb's power had been useful, but he hadn't really wanted to use it. Not in any way that would help them kill anyone else.
But he hadn't killed anyone, either.
Not even when he'd had the chance.
Frederick blinked hard, fighting to keep his eyes open. Yes, he'd had the chance to kill, but what if the other boy had actually put up a fight? He was in no condition for a long brawl, and it would have given his pursuers time to catch up. No, leaving the other boy had been the best strategic decision. It really had.
The other boy. He hadn't even asked what the boy's name was. Then again, he hadn't offered his own, either. The boy had been wearing red, like Seb; that meant he was one of Penelope's contestants. But that didn't seem to matter, really. It wasn't as if any of them were really teams. The MAAB had said the two survivors could be any combination of colors. The supposed 'teams' hadn't stopped him from teaming up with Seb or Sybil, even though they'd had different coaches.
And look how well that worked out. Frederick tried to ignore the thought. Maybe he was better off alone, but he had to admit it had been … nice to see another face, even it was only for a few moments.
Maybe that was enough.
Elio Haines, 16
"Have we gone far enough yet?"
Elio shook his head as he and Lea stopped to catch their breaths. There was no sign of anyone following them, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they should keep going, and he'd learned not to ignore those feelings. "We can make it a bit farther tonight."
Lea glanced up at the slope in front of them. "Yeah, but if we do, how much are we really going to be able to walk tomorrow? We can't keep going like this forever."
"We don't need to keep going forever," Elio reasoned. "Just until it's safe to stop."
Safe. But they wouldn't be safe, as long as they were in the Games. Even once they got away from whoever was following them now, it was only a matter of time before they ran into someone else. But what other choice did they have? Give up and be killed? Fight? Neither of those was an option. He didn't want to die, and fighting … that was letting the MAAB win. That was something they'd agreed not to do.
So running was their only option. Well, climbing. The slope they'd been climbing wasn't particularly steep, but there weren't any clear paths, so the going was slow in the dark. Maybe it would be better to wait for morning. It couldn't be that far away.
"Maybe we should rest for a little while," he agreed at last. No, it wasn't safe – could never be safe – but he was tired. His legs ached. His eyes had been drooping for hours. Going along at this pace in the dark wasn't safe, either. If they had to choose between two dangerous options, they might as well get a little rest.
Immediately, Lea plopped down on the ground, slid her pack off, and took out the jar of applesauce. She ate a little, then handed it to Elio. It tasted good. Elio ate a little, then finished off one of the bottles of water. Lea had already done the same. They still had two full ones left, but they would need to find more water soon at this rate. They'd been relying on the lakes they'd found for water, as well as for fish. Would there be as many higher up in the mountains?
Maybe. Maybe not. But they were up here for a reason, and it wasn't to die of thirst, so there had to be some sort of water. Maybe it was going to rain again soon. Elio slid the jar of applesauce back into Lea's bag. He just hoped it wasn't going to snow again. On top of the cold, snow would make it easier to track them.
Well, maybe. Easier for most people. If whoever was following them was following their scent or something, they would be easy enough to track no matter what they did. It was just a matter of staying ahead of them. Which meant they needed to keep moving.
But they also needed rest.
"Are you all right?" Lea asked.
Elio looked up, wondering if she'd said something before that. "Just tired," he reasoned. "We'll both feel better after some rest."
"I can keep watch for a little while, then," Lea offered. "I don't think I'd be able to sleep anyway."
Elio raised an eyebrow. "Really? I feel like I could sleep for a week."
Lea chuckled. "Don't get me wrong; I'm tired. It's just … How do you sleep when you know you might not wake up again?"
Elio shrugged. "That's true any time we go to sleep."
"Well, yeah, technically," Lea agreed. "But don't you think the chances of that are just a little bit higher than normal right now?"
They were. They definitely were. But he was still pretty certain he'd be able to sleep. So he simply shrugged instead. "There are worse ways to go."
That was certainly true. If someone was going to find them, maybe it was better if they were asleep. That would mean they wouldn't have to make the choice – the choice about whether to fight or whether to die, whether to refuse to play the MAAB's game even if it cost them their lives. That was what they had said they would do, after all, but so far, they'd been able to simply avoid everyone else. They hadn't really had to make that choice.
What would happen when they did?
Kenji Rose, 12
What would happen when they caught up?
Kenji glanced over at Emery, who was carrying Florence in bat form on her back, occasionally sniffing the air to get their prey's scent. Prey. It was easier to think about it like that. Like a hunt, a chase, with some sort of animal at the end rather than…
Rather than a person. It had taken them a while to dig their way out of the entrance to the cave, but it hadn't taken Emery long to find the scent. Whoever had taken their supplies probably had a good head start, but the three of them were moving at wolf speed now. He could be going faster, of course, but it was better if the three of them stuck together.
Three of them. Three against one. At least, it was probably just one. Emery had only been able to pick out one scent, so assuming there wasn't someone else there who had some way of masking their scent … yeah, probably just one. Someone who had been desperate enough to steal from them.
The supplies weren't that big of a problem, really. There were plenty of lakes around for water, and they'd been catching fish pretty regularly. They hadn't really been relying much on the supplies in their bag, which was why there had been some left to steal in the first place. Besides, there were probably supplies back at the circle where they had started the Games, and now they were heading back in that general direction. If push came to shove, he could dash back to where they had started and grab something.
No, it wasn't about the supplies. It was about finally having someone to track. Well, that and the fact that whoever had taken their stuff had tried to trap them in a cave.
In the back of his mind, though, he knew that wasn't entirely accurate. Whoever had piled the rocks over the entrance had to know that it wouldn't hold them forever. It wouldn't trap them for long; all it would do was give them a head start. And that was all they'd gotten – a head start. Eventually, the three of them would catch up. Eventually, there would be a fight.
Except it probably wouldn't be much of a fight.
Kenji's stomach churned. They had a pretty good idea of who they were chasing, after all. There had been some sort of goo dribbled between some of the rocks, which they'd gotten a better look at once they'd made their way out of the cave. There had been a boy during the talent show who had been able to turn whatever he touched into goo. So that was probably who they were chasing. Which meant as long as they didn't let him touch them, it wouldn't be much of a fight. They just had to be quick enough to avoid his hands.
He just had to be quick enough. He was the fastest, after all. That would probably be his job – keep the other boy occupied trying to touch him while Florence and Emery went in for the kill.
Kenji clenched his fists. He didn't want to. He'd never wanted to. He'd run away at the start of the Games when Florence and Emery had gone after the other group…
And look where that got you.
Kenji swallowed hard. If he had stayed with them – if he had helped – would it have made a difference? Maybe. Maybe not. He would never know, because he hadn't stayed. And Florence had been hurt. He couldn't let that happen again.
He couldn't leave them again.
Suddenly, Emery skidded to a stop. "What is it?" Kenji asked. "That dog again?" There had been barking earlier, and Emery had tried howling in reply, hoping there might be some dogs or even some wolves nearby. But the barking had stopped soon after.
Maybe that was for the best. Even if there were wolves around, why would they be any more helpful than the bats had been? Maybe it was human nature – or animal nature – for them to be drawn to bats and wolves, expecting that the would want to help them, but really, the three of them were doing just fine on their own.
Emery shifted back to human form and shook her head. "Do you feel that?" She held out a hand.
Kenji looked up at the sky. It was starting to rain. Not a hard rain – not yet – but as they stood there, it seemed to be coming down a little harder. Then a little more. Emery shook her head and started shifting back to wolf form. "Come on," she half-growled, taking off again as soon as she had paws. "Before I lose the scent."
Kenji followed obediently, but there was a part of him that was hoping she would lose the scent. Then they wouldn't have to follow the other boy. Then they wouldn't have to fight. They could just head back to the circle, grab some supplies, and figure out where to go from there.
That seemed like a better idea.
Fae Tomasini, 13
Stopping had probably been a good idea.
Fae huddled with Iola and Kiara under their sleeping bag as the rain started to pour down even harder. They'd stopped once it was clear it was going to be more than just a drizzle, and had managed to get under the sleeping bag in time to avoid being soaked. Looking for the boy they'd been hoping to find would just have to wait.
Maybe that was for the best. They were all tired. None of them had gotten much sleep before the older boy had attacked them, and they'd immediately decided to search for the other one. Maybe the rain was a good thing, after all – forcing them to stop and get some rest, at least, even if they weren't likely to be able to sleep.
Fae closed her eyes. She'd tried to fall asleep. She really had. But she kept seeing his face. The shock, the pain, the fear in the boy's eyes as she'd plunged the knife into his throat. And then … then the nothingness. Then he was just … gone. She'd killed him.
But he would have killed them.
He hadn't needed to come back and fight. He could have just run away when he'd seen them. There was no way the three of them would have been able to catch up. He'd wanted a fight. Or if not wanted one, at least accepted that there needed to be a fight. He'd gone up against three of them. Had he really been expecting to come out on top?
Maybe. Maybe not. But he certainly hadn't been expecting her to kill him.
Fae swallowed hard. That had been the idea, of course. That was why Kiara and Iola had given her the knife. She was the one no one would expect to have a weapon. The one no one would expect to be able to kill.
Fae huddled closer to Iola and Kiara. She hadn't wanted to kill. But she hadn't wanted them to die. She hadn't wanted to die. And those were the only options. If they hadn't killed him, he would have killed them. One of them had needed to kill him. It had just happened to be her. Either of the others would have done the same thing.
Iola had done the same thing, the last time they'd been attacked. She'd been the one to strike the killing blow. This time, it had been Fae. It could have been any of them, but she was the one who had the right opportunity.
She wished she hadn't.
She wished it hadn't been her.
Fae opened her eyes and rolled over a little, trying to find a better position. But it wasn't the ground that was the problem – not really. She'd been sleeping on the ground for the past few nights, and while it wasn't comfortable, at least she'd gotten used to it.
She would never get used to this.
She would never get used to seeing those eyes.
And the worst part was, she might have to do it again. She probably would have to do it again. If it came down to another fight, she would have to kill. And now that she knew she could do it…
Fae clenched her fists. She could do it. She had done it. No, she hadn't liked it. Yes, she would have a hard time sleeping. But she was alive. Kiara and Iola were alive. That was the important thing. She could deal with the rest later. She could deal with the guilt later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was that her friends were alive. If that meant that someone else was dead … well, she didn't make the rules of the game.
She only had to play by them.
Savannah Kingston, 19
They only had a little while left before dawn.
Savannah stifled a yawn, pulling her jacket a little tighter as the rain pounded down. She and Coburn hadn't gotten much sleep, but it would have to do. There was a faint hint of dawn peeking through the clouds, so maybe it was better to start moving. At least then they would be doing something, rather than just sitting around here getting wet.
Once the rain stopped, of course, Coburn would be able to dry them off fairly easily. It was just a matter of waiting until then, because trying to dry off now would be rather pointless. "So much for fishing," Coburn muttered as the pair of them packed the soaking wet pillows into their backpacks.
Savannah nodded. She'd been planning to try to electrocute some of the fish, but that would have to wait. Water conducted electricity, and everything was wet now. It would be far too easy to accidentally hit Coburn instead. No, better to play it safe. Better to keep her lightning contained for now and hope the storm didn't last too long.
Savannah rubbed the back of her neck. "Still think we should keep going that way?" she asked, nodding towards the passageway in front of them.
Coburn shrugged. "Don't see why not. Sure, it'll be slippery, but so will anything else. And it definitely sounds like a better idea than staying here."
Savannah nodded. She couldn't argue with that. There was something about the idea of staying put that was unsettling. The last time they'd settled down somewhere for too long, they'd been attacked, and Lilith had been killed. If someone caught up to them in this weather…
Then what? What was to stop her from killing them the way she and Coburn had killed the girl who had attacked Lilith? While she didn't like the idea of doing that again, it was better than the idea of someone else killing her, or killing Coburn. If she had to, she could do it again. She would do it again. But if it was a while before she had to … well, all the better.
"Okay," Savannah agreed. "But we take it slow, and if it starts to get too slippery, we stop. Fair?"
"Fair," Coburn agreed. He held out his hand, and a little, flickering flame appeared. Not much, but enough to see by, even in the rain. And maybe focusing on keeping it lit would give Coburn something to occupy his mind.
Savannah fought back a sudden wave of jealousy. He could make just a little flame – especially in this weather. There was no such thing as just a little lightning. As soon as she let go – even a little – it would all come bursting out.
Maybe once there was daylight. Maybe once the storm stopped and she could find somewhere safe. Somewhere where she could really let go.
Savannah clenched her fists as she followed Coburn through the pass. There was nowhere she could let go – not really. Even if she managed to find somewhere safe to let off some lightning, the energy would just start building up again. She'd learned to manage it in everyday life, but she'd managed it by avoiding this kind of stress. Right now, there seemed to be nothing but stress.
Stop thinking about it. It was a dangerous cycle, she knew. The more she thought about how stressful the Games were, the more she worried about what might happen if she let go, the harder it would be to hold the lightning in. But there wasn't really much else to think about…
"Say something," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Coburn turned around. "What?"
Savannah shook her head. "Look, I just need something to focus on. Something besides…" She gestured around her. "Something besides all this. It's starting to get to me, and you don't want to be anywhere around here if it gets to be too much, so … say something. Talk about something else."
Coburn froze, as if he hadn't realized just how much energy she was holding back. Maybe he hadn't. "Okay. Okay, something else. If you could be anywhere right now, where would you want to be?"
Savannah clenched her fists. "Anywhere but here."
Coburn chuckled. "Okay, but where specifically? Don't think about it. Just say the first thing that comes to your mind. Where would you want to go?"
"The beach."
Coburn nodded. "Okay. Okay, that's good. I like the beach, too. Once we get out of here, that's the first place we'll go. Nice, sandy beach right by the ocean. Don't you love that smell?"
"Yeah." Savannah swallowed hard. Coburn was trying to be nice. He was trying to distract her. But it wasn't that easy. The MAAB would never just let them go to the beach, even if they managed to make it out of here. They would be trapped – just as trapped as they were now, just as trapped as their coaches were. She didn't want to live like that. She didn't want—
"Savannah?"
Coburn Hughes, 17
"Savannah?"
Coburn took a step closer in the dark, the flame flickering in his hand. "Savannah?" he repeated. "Savannah, it's okay. It's okay. You've got this. You can do this."
"I can't." Her voice was thin, desperate. "I can't. It's too much. I can't control it. You should get out of here before—"
"No." He took a step closer. "No, I can help you. You said it yourself; you just need something to focus on. The beach. Think about the beach. There'll be waves, and seashells, and seagulls, and—"
"—and it's never going to happen!" Savannah finished, almost screaming over the sound of the rain. "You think we're going to get out of here and just go to the beach? Just like that?"
Coburn said nothing. He knew better than that. They both did. He was just trying to be nice. But maybe Savannah didn't need something nice. Maybe—
He took a step closer. Then another. Savannah didn't move. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Helping."
Savannah shook her head. "You can't. Lilith could, but—"
"—but she's dead," Coburn finished. "She's dead, and you're worried that I might be next."
Savannah nodded frantically. "Aren't you?"
"Yeah." Coburn chuckled. "Of course I am. And I'm worried you might be next. Either of us might be. But it'll definitely be one of us – or both of us – if you don't get control of yourself now."
"I can't. Not without Lilith."
"What would Lilith tell you to do?"
"I … I don't know."
"Yes you do."
"She'd … she'd tell me to let some of it go, so it won't build up to the point where it's dangerous."
"So do that."
"But the rain … the water … I don't know if I can control where it's going."
Coburn took a step closer. He was within arm's reach now. "And what happens if you hold onto it? Hmm? If it keeps building up and eventually bursts out, do you think you'll be able to control it then?"
"No."
"So you either let it go now, when it's your choice, or you wait until it becomes too much. Right?"
"Right."
Coburn took a deep breath, then held out a hand. "So go ahead."
Savannah took a step back. "What if I hit you?"
Coburn shrugged. "There's worse ways to go." He hesitated a moment. "I mean, not that any are coming to mind right now, but there has to be something worse than being fried alive by lightning."
"This isn't funny."
"I know." He took a step closer, and this time, Savannah didn't back away. "Whenever you're ready."
Savannah looked down at his hand. After a moment, she took it. "Okay," she whispered. "Here goes nothing." She held up her other hand.
The lightning shot straight up, filling the sky like a beacon. A beacon that branched out in different directions as it rose higher and higher. Savannah squeezed Coburn's hand tightly – so tightly, he thought something might crack. But nothing did. Burst after burst of lightning shot up into the sky, but nothing hit him. Finally, the lightning died down, and Savannah's grip loosened. She was beaming as she turned towards him.
"I did it."
Rick Clifton, 19
"Did you do that?"
Rick nodded as Vi sat up under their sleeping bag, which he'd opened and stretched out over the pair of them. "I think so."
Vi raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"
"Yeah. I mean, the snow was pretty obviously me, but the rain … well, rain can just happen. But yeah, I think so. You know that howling we heard earlier?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I was thinking, and I started wondering what would happen if the wolf caught our scent, you know? And I guess … I guess I thought it would be a good thing if it couldn't smell us, and rain … doesn't that sort of wash scents away?"
Vi chuckled. "You're asking me? Not exactly a lot of wolves where I'm from."
"No, but dogs…"
"Usually not too worried about them knowing where we are," Vi pointed out.
"Fair point," Rick agreed. "Probably not a normal wolf, anyway."
"You think it was the werewolf?"
Rick shrugged, immediately regretting moving his shoulder. "I mean, if there were wolves out here, don't you think we would've heard them before tonight?"
"Probably," Vi agreed, opening one of their packs. He pulled out one of the bottles of pills and handed it to Rick. "Here. Looks like you could use a few more."
Rick turned the bottle over in his hands. "It's almost empty."
Vi shrugged. "We've still got another one. And we're almost back to the circle, anyway. Were there still some there, or did we take them all?"
"Not sure," Rick admitted, careful not to shrug this time. "It seems like so long ago."
"Four days."
"Is that all?"
"Pretty sure. We were out for a while back there, but I don't think it was that long. Maybe a day or two more. But I'm pretty sure about four. Well, probably day five by now." He peeked out from beneath the blanket. "Little bit of light coming through those clouds of yours, but not much."
Rick opened the bottle of pills, took two, and handed it back to Vi. "Any idea which direction the howling was coming from?" he asked.
Vi shook his head. "Couldn't really tell. You?"
"No." It had seemed to be echoing all over. "So I guess one direction's as good as another, huh? After we get some more supplies, that is."
Vi nodded. "Guess so."
For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Vi sighed. "Okay, what is it?"
"What?"
"You're worried about something."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "You mean besides the fact that we're trapped in a fight to the death and could be killed at any moment?"
"Yeah, besides that. You're tense. Something about that howling spooked you. So what is it?"
Rick shook his head. "It's just … if that is the werewolf howling out there, it means she's still alive, and not exactly shy about letting other people know where she is."
"You think it's a trap? Think she's trying to draw people in?"
"Wouldn't be the first time," Rick reasoned.
Vi nodded. "I guess this is where I say something reassuring about not being stupid enough to chase after a werewolf."
"We were stupid enough to chase after someone who could shoot lightning," Rick pointed out.
Vi nodded. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. We're not going after a werewolf. Besides, we just agreed we had no idea which direction the howling was coming from."
We just agreed. Did that mean he did know which direction it had come from, and was pretending not to so that the MAAB wouldn't expect them to go after the wolf? Maybe. Or maybe he hadn't meant it like that. Rick took the bag of granola from his pack, took a handful, and passed it to Vi. He was getting too suspicious. Vi probably didn't have any better idea of which way the howling had come from than he did.
Probably.
Vi took a handful of granola. "Besides, there are probably plenty of other groups left to choose from."
Rick cocked his head. "For the wolf to choose from, or for us?"
"Both. I mean, they'd let us know if there were only a few of us left, right?"
"I don't know," Rick admitted. "Vincent said that last year, they sent papers that had the number seven on them … but there were still eighteen of them left. So even if they did tell us, we'd have no way of knowing whether it was true or not."
Vi nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. So we just keep going as if there are plenty of other contestants left, even if we don't really know. Got a better idea?"
Rick shook his head. He didn't have a better idea. Vi just made everything sound so simple. Keep going. Keep surviving. Until either someone else killed them or they were the only ones left.
Maybe it really was that simple.
Maria Nanami, 26
It looked so simple from here.
Maria shook her head as she watched the screens. Most of the contestants had decided to stop because of the rain, if they hadn't already. Emery, Florence, and Kenji were still moving, but not as quickly as they had been before. Maybe Emery was worried about losing the scent in the rain, or being ambushed if they kept going too quickly and their prey decided to stop. But Frederick showed no signs of stopping, although he had turned south after running into Manaka, maybe hoping to lose his pursuers if they stopped to finish Manaka off.
For her part, Maria was impressed Manaka was still alive. He'd managed to talk his way out of a fight with Frederick. Maybe he could do the same if one of the other groups found him. Iola, Kiara, and Fae seemed to have given up their hunt for now, but once the rain stopped, they would probably keep looking. Manaka's best chance was probably to hope that both groups found him at the same time and decided to fight each other instead.
The other group still on the move was Savannah and Coburn. They were moving slowly but steadily through the passage in the ridge, quite a ways away from anyone else. Elio and Lea had stopped for the night, but they'd put a good amount of distance between themselves and Liv, Lee, and Elena. Even if the larger group figured out which way they'd gone, it would probably take them quite a while to catch up.
Rick and Vi, meanwhile, were still huddled beneath their blanket, maybe waiting for the rain to die down a little before they started off again. Henry was nestled in their pair of sleeping bags to keep out the rain, banking on the idea that the golem would wake them if something started to go wrong. Jaime and Kylena seemed content to spend the night in the house. They'd moved both of the bodies outside, maybe hoping that would act as a deterrent to anyone who thought about trying to attack them.
The bodies. Two bodies. But Seb – or the copy Seb had made of himself – was still out there. He'd reappeared beside Phantom, not too far away from the house, but had immediately fallen asleep, the dog taking up a protective stance above him. Maybe making a duplicate of himself had just been too exhausting.
A duplicate. None of them had thought of that. None of them had guessed that, in a pinch, Seb could just write another version of himself into existence and escape unharmed. But it was a trick that would only work once, if his earlier attempt to write himself a blanket was anything to go by. When he'd written a new version of himself, it had affected his powers somehow. But why would it?
Maria shook her head. There wasn't any way to know, really. They'd only had a few days to get to know their contestants' powers before they'd been thrust into the Games. Despite having an idea of what they could do, they had very little idea of just how far any of their powers went. The same sort of thing had happened last year, when they'd failed to account for the fact that Diana could still survive in the dreamworld after her body had died.
Maria glanced over at the other coaches, watching the sun rise on the screens. Five days. It was the fifth day of the Games already, and there were still twenty contestants left. Twenty-one, if they were counting Seb. Did he still count? If he'd lost his powers, if he wasn't a mutant anymore, was he really part of the Games?
Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it didn't matter – not yet, at least. Whether there were twenty or twenty-one contestants left, they were still a long ways away from the end of the Games. The trouble was, most of the contestants had no way of knowing that. No way of knowing how many of their opponents were left. From here, it was simple. She could look at a screen and see exactly who was there. But in the Games…
"Yeah, we'll have to come up with something for next time," Vincent muttered sleepily.
Maria nearly jumped. "Didn't realize you were still awake," she apologized.
"Have to come up with something for what?" Penelope asked, shifting a little so Vincent could pick her up.
Vincent sat up slowly. "So they know how many contestants are left. Didn't really matter last time, since the Games ended so quickly. But if this is going to go on this long, they'll need some way of figuring out how many people are left."
Ian raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Penelope shrugged. "It could affect their strategy. If you know there are only a few people left – only a few people who have to die before the Games are over – you might take risks you wouldn't otherwise, because it won't matter if you get hurt as long as you last longer than the others. But if there are still twenty contestants left … well, not a great time to get hurt."
"Twenty-one," Ian corrected. "Seb's still out there."
"Without his powers," Penelope reasoned. "Does he still count as a contestant?"
Ian shrugged. "Well, they haven't come to take him out of the Games or anything, so I'm assuming that's a yes. Any idea why he lost his powers when he wrote a new … him?"
Penelope shook her head. "Don't know. I didn't think to have him try anything like that during training."
"He probably wouldn't have even if you'd asked," Ian reasoned. "Alphonso suggested it, along with a bunch of other things, but Seb didn't want to try."
"That's probably why," Vincent said quietly.
"Why what?" Maria asked.
"Why he lost his powers. When he wrote another version of himself, he wrote the version he wanted. He never wanted to be a mutant, and now he's not. Maybe on some unconscious level he thought – or hoped – that if he wasn't a mutant anymore, all of this would go away."
Penelope shook her head. "But it won't. And now he's defenseless. It just doesn't seem…" She trailed off, as if realizing what she'd been about to say, and how ridiculous it sounded.
"Fair," Maria finished. "It doesn't seem fair. And it's not. None of this is. It wasn't fair last year, it's not fair this year, and no matter how hard we try, it won't be fair next year." She glanced at Vincent, who raised an eyebrow as she flashed a thought in his direction.
But maybe there is something we can do for Seb.
"Death is the ultimate fairness. Rich and poor, young and old - all are equal in death."
