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Going


Ian Viera, 23
March 27, 15:22 MST

Things were going to move a lot faster now.

Ian leaned forward in his chair, watching as Kenji raced through the pouring rain. Not as fast as he could be going, maybe – the cameras were still able to pick him up, after all – but faster than any of the others were managing to move in the rain and the gloom. He was headed for the lightning, probably, despite the fact that Savannah had stopped shooting it off a little while ago. It would probably be enough to lead him to where she had been, which wasn't all that far from where she was now.

And then what? How fast was he? Faster than lightning? He had a gun, too, after all. Was a bullet faster than lightning? Probably not. But you could see lightning coming. You couldn't always see a bullet. Especially in this weather. If he managed to catch Savannah and Liv off-guard, maybe he would be able to shoot both before they even knew he was coming. Maybe. Was he a good shot? In this rain? How close would he get before trying? He only had six bullets, after all – and no way of knowing how many of the others were left.

That was the thing, really. Even if he managed to take out both Savannah and Liv, there were still five others he would have to kill – all in a very short amount of time, if he was going to save Frederick. How much time did Frederick have left? And how was Kenji planning to find the others in this weather? None of the others were exactly broadcasting their position the way Savannah had been. They were all headed in the same general direction now, but Kenji had no way of knowing that. What was he planning to do?

Ian shook his head. Kenji wasn't planning anything – not right now. He didn't have a plan. He had a motivation – that was all. He finally had a reason to fight, and he was hoping that would be enough to carry him through. Maybe it would. But would it be enough for Frederick?

How long did Frederick have? Even if Kenji somehow managed to kill all of the other contestants before he died, would Anita be able to save him? How were they planning to get to the contestants once the Games were over?

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "That's a good question."

Penelope turned. "What is?"

"What happens when the Games are over?" Ian asked. "I mean, even if it's not that quickly – even if Kenji doesn't manage what he's planning – it looks like it's going to be pretty quick, with everyone headed in the direction they're headed. Last year, they flew in and got you in a helicopter before the island completely crumbled, but it's looking pretty bad out there – bad enough that we all evacuated. Would you want to fly in this?"

Maria shook her head. "You don't think the weather will settle down if…"

"If Liv and Rick die?" Ian finished. "I don't think so – not now that they've stirred it up like this. The tornadoes didn't exactly poof out of existence once Rick went and hid in the tunnels and his collar turned on, after all. I don't see why this would be any different."

Penelope turned. "You're worried about Frederick – that even if Kenji's plan works, they might not be quick enough to save him."

Ian nodded. "That's why I was thinking about it, yes, but any of them could end up in the same position. Henry's in pretty bad shape already. Liv's got an injured leg. And there are still nine of them left. Who knows what's going to happen between now and the end? Any of them could end up needing pretty immediate attention. You and Piper were both hurt at the end of the Games last year. What would have happened if they hadn't been able to get to you right away?"

"We would have collapsed into the ocean with the rest of the island," Penelope reasoned. "But you've got a point. We should ask Alvin what their plan is when he turns up again."

Ian nodded. Their plan. There was a good chance they didn't actually have one – that they hadn't been expecting the weather to get this bad, either. They'd had an evacuation plan, yes, but had they really been expecting to use it? Ian wasn't sure exactly where they were – only that Alvin had said they were all far enough away to be safe. But how far away was that? Would it be close enough to get to the contestants at the end of the Games?

What was going to happen if it wasn't?


Kenji Rose, 12

He had to keep going.

Kenji gripped Frederick's gun as he raced towards the lightning in the distance. Or at least towards where the lightning had been. If he was lucky, whoever had been shooting off the lightning would still be there. After he killed them, then he could figure out a plan for finding the others.

After he killed them. Kenji was surprised by how easily the thought had come. He was finally ready to fight, and it felt good. No more second-guessing. No more wondering whether he could have done something. He was going to do something – the only thing he could do. And if it went wrong, well, at least he would know that he had done everything he could. He would have nothing to feel guilty about.

Not this time.

Kenji's eyes darted around the mountain. He had to be getting close, but the rain was making it hard to see. How close would he have to get before he actually saw anyone? Finally, he slowed down a little, still gripping the gun tightly. He'd never used one before, but he couldn't afford to waste any bullets with a practice shot. He had no idea how many he would need for the other contestants. Would he have enough?

Kenji shook the thought from his head. It would have to be enough. Besides, he still had a knife. Would using that be better if he wasn't sure he could aim well enough with the gun? Could he run in, stab someone, and get out faster than a bullet would be anyway? After all, he couldn't make the bullet go faster than it normally would once it left the gun, but the knife would move at the same speed he did. Was he faster than a bullet? How fast was a bullet? He'd never really thought about it before.

Stop it. No second-guessing. The gun was better for now – certainly against someone who could shoot lightning. He didn't want to get any closer to someone like that than he absolutely had to. But he would have to get close enough to make sure he could hit them. How fast was lightning? Was lightning faster than a bullet? He was pretty sure it was.

Focus.

Suddenly, something flashed up ahead. Some sort of light. Kenji slowed, darting behind a tree. They probably hadn't seen him. Probably. Two girls – one of them with sparks flickering from her fingertips, as if she couldn't quite contain whatever energy was surging inside, just waiting for a chance to surface.

Kenji swallowed. At least that made it easy. He knew who he needed to target first. Whatever the other girl's power was, it probably wasn't as dangerous as lightning. He took a deep breath, raised his gun, and fired.

And heard the girl shout.


Savannah Kingston, 19

"Liv, drop!"

Savannah glanced down at her shoulder. The bullet had only grazed her, but there were probably more where that had come from. Liv dropped to the ground, and Savannah raised her hands, lightning exploding in every direction. She wasn't sure where the bullet had come from. She couldn't see far enough in the rain. But whoever it was couldn't be too far away.

And how far could they really run?


Kenji Rose, 12

He couldn't just run.

Kenji fired again – and missed again. He was too far. He'd never fired a gun before. The first shot had at least grazed the girl – at least gotten her attention – but the second hadn't even come close, and neither had the third. That left only three bullets. He couldn't afford to waste any more unless he was sure. He peeked out from behind the tree long enough to see another round of lightning shoot from her hands.

Kenji tucked the gun back in his pocket and pulled out the knife instead. Maybe the gun had been a mistake after all. Maybe he was fast enough. He would have to be fast enough. Frederick was depending on him.

He had to be fast enough.


Savannah Kingston, 19

The boy was too fast.

He came out of nowhere. Savannah didn't have time to dodge. No one would have had time to dodge. He was nothing more than a blur, racing around the lightning bolts. No, not around, Savannah realized as the knife plunged into her side. Through the lightning bolts. She had hit him – she was sure of it. She caught a brief glimpse of his face as the knife came out, his hair singed, his eyes wide with pain. His knife plunged into her neck, but as he drew it out again, he collapsed beside her, trying to get to his feet but finally unable to move.

Savannah's hands flew to her neck, lightning still coursing from her fingertips. It wouldn't harm her, of course, but Liv–

No time to worry about Liv right now. She had to stop the bleeding. She had to–

"Savannah!" Liv's voice cut through the pain and the shock. She was back on her feet, standing far enough away that the lightning wouldn't hit her, now that Savannah wasn't aiming it out. But she couldn't stop it, either. There was too much. Too much pain. Too much energy. She couldn't–

Liv took a step forward. "No!" Savannah shouted, and though it came out garbled because of the blood, Liv got the message. She stopped. Savannah nodded weakly. Coburn had died trying to help her. She wouldn't let Liv do the same thing.

Especially not when there was nothing she could do. Maybe she would have been able to patch up the wound in her side, but her neck … no, the blood was flowing too quickly. There was nothing she could do. Nothing either of them could do. Savannah stared up at the sky, blinking away the raindrops, and smiled.

Maybe it was better this way.


Liv Holle, 18

It was over in minutes.

Liv watched silently as the last of the lightning bolts faded away and Savannah's body went completely, horribly still. The boy's body lay beside Savannah's, his eyes frozen in a look of horrified shock. The whole fight – if you could even call it that – had lasted maybe a second or two. There hadn't been time to do anything. It wasn't fair.

But…

But he was dead, too. Liv shuddered. He had been fast. Almost faster than the lightning, it had seemed – although not quite fast enough. Cautiously, she took a few steps closer, then a few more. She prodded the body gently. It didn't move. He would have moved by now if he could. She knelt down. No pulse. No breath. And no signs of life from Savannah, either. Liv shook her head, her heart still racing.

What was she supposed to do now?

Their whole plan had revolved around Savannah. Lure the other contestants in with the lightning, and then finish them off. That was it. That was the plan. Now she had no lightning, and no way to finish anyone off. Except…

The boy had had a gun. What had he done with it? Carefully, she searched his pockets, and sure enough, the gun was there. And also something she hadn't expected – a small red toy car. Where had he gotten that?

Liv shook her head. She may as well ask where he had gotten the gun. The contestants back at the circle – the ones who had killed Elena and Lee – they'd had guns, too. Where had they gotten them? There had been a boy who could make things by writing them, she remembered, but he wouldn't have just been handing out guns to the other contestants, would he? Who had he been working with?

She couldn't remember. Then again, Savannah wasn't who she had originally been working with, either. So maybe he had teamed up with someone else.

But where was he? Was he one of the ones who was left? How was she supposed to kill someone like that? She had a gun with … three bullets, she realized once she took a moment to check. Three bullets. And a knife. And–

Fighting nausea, Liv reached down and took the knife that lay by Savannah's neck. Okay. One gun. Three bullets. Two knives. That was it. That was what she had. Okay, not quite. One gun, three bullets, two knives, and a storm that she couldn't really control – a storm that was pouring rain on her just as much as on the other contestants. She was soaked. Her leg ached. And she was still only part of the way up this damn mountain.

But maybe … maybe partway was good enough. After all, if the other contestants were heading towards the lightning, this was where they were going to come, especially after that last burst of lightning from Savannah. She had no way of letting the other contestants know her position if she went anywhere else – and no way of finding anyone else besides striking out in a random direction and hoping to bump into them while they were on their way here.

Liv shivered as she took the sleeping bag out of her backpack. It was too soaked to do her any good, so she draped it over the pair of bodies. If she was going to stay here – and that seemed like the best move – then at least she wouldn't have to look at them. And maybe she had a little time now – time to plan her next move.

Except she hadn't had time to plan for this.

No one could have planned for this.

But she was alive. She was still alive, while a contestant who would have been an impossible opponent for her alone was dead. Two, if she counted Savannah. After all, the two of them had only been working together for … what? A day now? It wasn't as if they'd really known each other.

Except…

Except Savannah had told her not to come closer. Not to try to help. There probably wouldn't have been anything she could have done, but she could have tried. She'd wanted to try. But Savannah had known it was dangerous, and she hadn't wanted her to die trying to save her. Maybe they hadn't known each other all that well, but that had to count for something.

Liv tucked the knives in her pocket and sank to the ground, leaning against a tree, the rain pouring down around her. The best thing she could do now was rest. Rest and try to make sure she was ready.

Ready for whatever was going to happen next.


Henry Helstrom, 14

They were never going to be ready for this.

Henry swallowed hard, watching the lightning dancing across the sky in the distance. There was no way to be completely certain in this weather whether it was regular lightning or whether it was coming from one of the contestants, but it seemed a bit too focused in one spot to be a coincidence. What was that about lightning never striking the same place twice? They had a feeling that only applied to natural lightning.

Henry glanced over at Rick – or at least, in the direction Rick had been. He wasn't there. Shit. They'd been trying to make sure he was keeping up, but–

Henry flicked their wrist, and the golem spun around, a move Henry instantly regretted as they almost passed out from a wave of dizziness and pain. Rick was leaning against a tree, watching the lightning. He held up a finger. One moment. He looked out of breath. Maybe the golem wasn't moving quickly, but it was always moving. They hadn't really thought about how hard it would be to keep up.

Rick pointed down, and Henry looked. The water was rising. And more than rising – it was flowing. Flowing downhill. And they were going uphill. It didn't seem to make any difference to the golem, but of course it would be harder for Rick.

But maybe it didn't have to be.

"Want a ride?" Henry asked, and, with a slight movement, the golem held out its arms.

Rick cocked his head skeptically, maybe unsure that the golem would be able to support them both. But it was made of rock and dirt. It was pretty sturdy. And even if it did slow it down a little bit, that was better than Rick being exhausted by the time they got … well, wherever the hell it was they were actually going. And it was certainly better than Rick getting swept away by the stream of water.

Henry closed their eyes for a moment, trying to focus. They couldn't keep an eye on Rick all the time. Even keeping their eyes open was an effort. When they finally opened their eyes again, Rick was standing in front of them, watching silently. Well, maybe silently. He could have been screaming, Henry realized, and they wouldn't have known. Rick nodded, and the golem reached down and picked him up, cradling him in its arms. "Okay?" Henry asked.

Rick nodded. That was probably all they were going to get as far as communication. Yes or no. It was too wet to try to write anything in the dirt, too dark for charades, and really … well, there wasn't a lot to say. Rick pointed in the direction of the lightning and gave a shrug. "May as well," Henry agreed. After all, there were worse ways to go.

Like drowning in flood water.

Henry closed their eyes as the golem set off again. That wasn't going to happen – not now that Rick wouldn't get swept away. Well, unless the water managed to sweep the entire golem away. Then they were pretty much screwed. But chances were, they were screwed anyway.

So they might as well keep going.


Rick Clifton, 19

The golem just kept on going.

Rick relaxed a little as the golem took another step, and then another. He'd been hanging on tightly at first, afraid the thing might drop him, but it seemed to show no signs of doing so. Of course, he was sure Henry wouldn't mean for it to drop him, but now that he was this close, he could tell that Henry was barely awake, drifting in and out of consciousness as the golem kept on moving. Autopilot – that was the word. The thing was running on autopilot. But what happened when it ran into something it didn't know how to deal with?

Like another contestant.

Rick tried to ignore the thought. Whatever happened when they ran into someone else, the more rested he was, the better. And at least if the thing was carrying him, he didn't have to trudge through the rising water. And it didn't seem to have any more trouble carrying two people than one. And since it was already supporting Henry, it might as well carry him, too.

At least, that was what he was trying to tell himself. It still felt a bit like … well, cheating, using Henry's power like this. But that was just an afterthought, a tiny little flicker in the back of his mind. The same part of his mind that had objected to what he and Vi had done at the start of the Games. They'd gone after the two contestants in the tunnels, and they'd only been able to do it because Vi had overheard them right before the Games. That had felt like cheating, too. But he'd done it then. And he was doing it now.

Besides, it wasn't as if he was hurting Henry. Well, not any more than Henry was already hurt, at least. Moving around like this probably wasn't doing their injuries any good, but what was the alternative? If they were going to win, they had to find the other contestants. If they were going to find them, they had to keep moving and…

And what? Hope? That was pretty much it right now. The lightning in the distance had stopped, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. It had stopped last night, too – and then this rain had started. And if the girl who was shooting the lightning was up ahead, it would take a lot more than a pair of knives and a rock creature to stop her. Rick wondered muzzily what happened if lightning hit a rock. Trees caught on fire when they were hit, didn't they? But rocks wouldn't catch on fire. What about a person being carried by a rock? A person inside a rock? He had no idea, and he didn't particularly want to find out.

Rick shook his head as he fought back a yawn. He hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. But he couldn't exactly sleep while being carried by the golem.

Could he?

Maybe. Until they found the other contestants, there wasn't a whole lot he could do. And there was still a long way to go, if how far away the lightning had seemed was anything to go by. Henry's eyes were closed, and Rick had no idea whether they were still awake or not. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he did the same thing.

Rick couldn't help a smile as he realized what hadn't occurred to him – the idea that maybe the golem would drop him off somewhere and leave him, or step on him, or crush him as he slept. He hadn't thought twice about letting the golem pick him up. Well, no, he had thought twice, but only because he'd thought it might slow Henry down. He hadn't been worried that Henry might hurt him.

Trust your instincts, Vincent had said. Trust yourself. And trust your gut when it comes to anyone else. What was his gut telling him? That he could trust Henry? Maybe. Maybe it was only because neither of them had any other options, but maybe that was enough. He probably wouldn't have been Henry's first choice, and Henry probably wouldn't have been his. But here they were, each other's only option. Rick closed his eyes, relaxing a little more as the rhythmic splashing of the golem's feet mixed with the pounding of the rain.

Maybe sleeping was going to be easier than he'd thought.


Fae Tomasini, 13

This was going to be harder than they'd thought.

Fae gripped Kiara's hand tightly as the pair of them fought their way uphill, the water streaming down at them. No, not just water anymore. Mud. Sticks. Rocks. Anything caught up in the water's path was following it downhill. What little light there was was getting dimmer, and it seemed like they were barely making progress. In fact, sometimes it felt like they were going backwards.

Fae glanced over at Kiara, who shrugged helplessly. There was nothing either of them could do about the rain, and they'd decided their best chance was go head uphill, but–

Suddenly, a rush of water nearly swept Fae off her feet. Kiara pulled her back up, but she was barely keeping her balance in the rising, rushing water. Then she saw it coming up ahead – a wall of water and dirt, sloshing its way towards them. Fae braced herself as hard as she could, but she and Kiara were still swept off their feet, their hands swept apart as they struggled, fumbling, trying to catch hold of anything they could. It was like they were caught in a–

Riptide.

Fae caught hold of Kiara's hand and pulled as her feet finally found the ground for a moment. Left. She yanked as hard as she could, and Kiara got the idea, flailing, almost swimming in the muck. Left. Keep going left. That was the thing about riptides. You didn't try to fight them. You swam away at a right angle. You got out of them, because they didn't stretch forever. Couldn't stretch forever. And this couldn't, either.

Ground. Solid ground. Still wet, yes, but not shifting. Fae held Kiara's hand tightly as the pair sloshed their way over to a nearby tree and collapsed, breathing hard. "That was close," Kiara gasped. "How did you know…?"

Fae shook her head, struggling for breath, trying to clear her thoughts. "It's what you're supposed to do if … if you get caught in a riptide."

"A riptide?"

"Yeah. You don't swim against it. You swim at an angle, and you get out. That's what my parents always told me. Never actually had to use it until … well, now."

Kiara cocked her head. "Why over here, though?"

Fae shrugged. "I just picked a direction. Figured it couldn't just keep going."

"Why not? What's different about over here?"

Fae glanced around. The water was still flowing downhill, of course, but not as quickly, and there wasn't the same muddiness to it. Fae leaned back against the tree. "Who knows."

But Kiara's eyes were fixed on something above Fae's head. "I think I do."

Fae followed her gaze up – towards the tree. Oh. She nearly burst out laughing. "We were trying to avoid the trees."

"Yeah. Because we thought they might get struck by lightning or fall on us."

"Right. But the roots–"

"They're holding the soil together."

Fae nodded. "So now what? We stay near the trees?"

Kiara shrugged. "I guess so."

"Okay." She struggled to her feet and reached back to adjust her backpack, but there wasn't anything there. It must have been swept away in the current. Frantically, she reached into her pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. The knife was still there. Okay. Kiara still had her bag, so they had plenty of supplies. Well, maybe not plenty, but enough. Probably enough. And she still had her weapon. That was the important thing. Because if they were close to the end of the Games, weapons were going to be more important than supplies.

And she had a feeling they were close. If the rest of the contestants were headed for high ground, it was only a matter of time. Maybe a longer time than she'd initially thought, considering how hard it was to make their way uphill. But still only a matter of time. Fae and Kiara shared a silent nod as they set out again.

One way or another, this was going to end soon.


Frederick Bouvy, 17

One way or another, it was going to be over soon.

Frederick winced as he sat up a little more, straining his eyes to see in the growing darkness. Whether that darkness was simply because it was getting later or because he was starting to lose consciousness, he wasn't really sure. Maybe it didn't matter. If Kenji was still alive, he was running out of time. If he was dead…

If he was dead, then Frederick was going to die. It was as simple as that. Frederick adjusted the backpack he'd propped himself up against. Kenji hadn't taken it – not that it would have done him any good. Food and supplies, extra clothes, plenty of water – none of that was going to help Kenji. And none of it was going to help him.

He couldn't help wondering whether it would even make any difference now if Kenji did manage to kill all of the other contestants. Would it matter? Even if the MAAB got him to their doctor, would she be able to do anything for him now? Maybe it was better if he just … what? Fell asleep? Hoped that he would wake up again? There wasn't really much else to do, and he was tired. So tired.

Frederick lay back and closed his eyes.

It wasn't really any darker.

In fact, it was growing a little brighter. Black faded to a dark grey, and then grew lighter, softer. Frederick looked around. He was standing on … nothing. Dreaming. He was probably dreaming. That would explain the fact that the pain was gone. He turned around, and–

"Seb?" The younger boy was standing there with a girl a little older than him. She looked familiar from somewhere, but he couldn't place it.

Seb nodded. "Yeah, it's me."

"I'm dreaming, aren't I. You're not really here."

It was the girl who answered. "Yes, and no. Yes, you're dreaming. But we are really here." She held out her hand. "Diana Pierri."

Oh. "You were in the Games last year. Dream manipulation – that was your thing."

"Is my thing," Diana corrected, and waved a hand. "I did this. I can keep you here, block the pain. It won't hurt at all."

"When I die, you mean."

"Yeah."

"So Kenji didn't…"

Seb shook his head. "No. He's dead. I'm sorry."

Frederick nodded. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Seb assured him. "I'm just asleep. I made it out, and these two girls found me. One of them knows Rick, and the other one's a friend of Lee. Diana's leading us somewhere safe."

Frederick smiled. "Good." At least he'd managed to do something right. Kenji was dead. He was dying. But Seb was alive. Whatever happened in the Games, Seb was going to make it. Thanks to him and Kenji. "Huh," Frederick muttered, and realized he'd said it out loud.

"What?" Seb asked.

"Nothing, really. It's just … you remember the group during training that didn't want to fight, didn't want to go along with the Games?"

"Yeah?"

"They thought that if they didn't cooperate, if they refused to fight, they would have to end the Games, that they would end up saving lives. But what actually did end up saving a life – an extra life – was us playing the Games. Kenji and I – we saved you. Do you think that would have turned out the same way if we hadn't gone along with the Games?"

Seb shook his head. "Probably not."

Frederick smiled and laid a hand on Seb's shoulder. "I'm glad we saved you … even if we couldn't save ourselves." He gave Seb's shoulder a squeeze. "How much longer have I got?"

Seb glanced at Diana, who shook her head. "Not long. There's nothing I can do about that. I'm just making sure you don't feel it."

Frederick nodded gratefully. He didn't feel the pain, but he still felt tired. He turned back to Seb. "Will you stay with me until…"

Seb nodded. "I'm not going anywhere."


Kylena Albright, 16

It didn't feel like she was going anywhere.

Kylena leaned back against a tree, trying to catch her breath, trying to ignore the rain and hail pellets that pelted down against her rain poncho. She'd kept herself dry using her bubble as long as she could, but she couldn't keep it up forever. And if she came across someone else – no, when she came across someone else – she wanted to be ready. So now she was wet. Wet and tired and not making much progress, as far as she could tell. Every time she thought she was getting somewhere, a surge of water knocked her off her feet, and she slipped back down the path.

The path. Not that it was really a path. Just a route that had seemed like the fastest way to get up the mountain. The sooner she made it to the top, the better, right? But the water seemed to be flowing even faster here, where it was steeper. Maybe she shouldn't have gone this way, but it was a bit late to change her mind now.

Kylena opened her pack. There was something she could do. She could lighten her load. Everything was soaked now, and dragging a literal wet blanket around certainly wasn't doing her any good. She took out the blanket and sheet, along with most of the extra clothes – all soaking wet – then used the rope to tie them to the tree. If she was wrong and it turned out they weren't actually close to the end of the Games, she could always come back for them later. If the rain stopped. If she was still alive. If, if, if…

Kylena shook her head, tucking a few of the smaller items into her left pocket to keep them separate from the gun and knives in the right one. The box of matches, the pair of earplugs, the compass, the pen. They probably wouldn't do a lot of good, but it wasn't as if they were a lot of extra weight. And then there was the food. She ate as much as she could, then tucked the rest back in the backpack, which felt lighter already. She packed the scarf and the roll of athletic tape just in case. It would probably make a better bandage than trying to cut up the blanket anyway. Okay. Now maybe she could keep going.

It was a little bit easier without the extra weight, but the rain was still pounding, the hail still bouncing off her poncho, the water still flowing steadily downhill. She made it to the next tree, and then the next. But the next one was farther away…

Kylena clenched her fists and struck out towards the shape in the distance. Okay. She just had to keep her footing. Everything was slippery now. One wrong step could send her tumbling down the mountain. Another step. Then another. Just a little farther–

The water came out of nowhere, a sudden surge from up ahead, knocking her off her feet. She tried to get up, but the layer of hail on the ground was too slippery, and the water was too strong. No, not water anymore. Mud and sticks and branches and–

And rocks. One nearly struck her, but bounced off the bubble that formed protectively as she tumbled down the slope. Kylena closed her eyes, bracing herself, trying to ignore the sloshing of the water that had ended up trapped in the bubble with her. The bubble struck something with a jolt, and there was a sudden bang and a scream she realized had come from her. Kylena's eyes shot open as a sudden stinging pain shot through her right leg. Shit. The gun had been in her pocket. She reached into her pocket, her fingers fumbling for the gun as the bubble kept rolling. If it went off again–

She still had two more in her backpack, unloaded. And bullets. Better not to risk this one going off again. What if the next bullet didn't hit her leg? Kylena grit her teeth and tried to concentrate. She just had to drop the bubble for a second–

Just a second. The bubble fell away, and she dropped the gun. The bubble reformed, rolling, tumbling, and then struck something. Kylena opened her eyes. A fallen tree was blocking her path. The water flowed under it, but it had been enough to stop her from following it. Kylena gasped for breath, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. There was a scarf in her backpack. She'd kept that. If she could stop the bleeding, she still had a chance.

Kylena took off her backpack, found the scarf, and wrapped it around her leg as tightly as she could, then wrapped the athletic tape around it and tied it off. In the dark and the rain, she couldn't tell how deep the bullet had gone, couldn't tell how much of the wetness was blood and how much was just water. But it hurt like hell, and she didn't dare try to stand up yet.

How was she supposed to keep going now?


Kiara Moore, 15

Maybe they'd been going the wrong way after all.

Kiara glanced over at Fae, who had turned towards the sound – a scream in the distance. Their first clue in quite a while about where another contestant might be. There had been lightning, yes, but not for hours. For all they knew, whoever was shooting off the lightning could have moved by now. It was probably too much to hope that they might be dead, but they could be anywhere. They could be even farther away, or…

Or they could be closer. They could be the reason why someone was screaming. She hadn't seen any lightning, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Just because someone could shoot lightning didn't mean they couldn't kill in other ways, too.

Or it might be someone completely different. They had no way of knowing how many of the other contestants were left. Maybe someone else entirely was nearby. Either way…

Fae was watching her. Waiting for her to say something. Kiara nodded. "Let's go that way, then." The slope looked a bit steeper over there, but if there was a chance of finding another contestant – especially someone who might already be in trouble, might already be injured – then they would just have to risk it.

Kiara reached into her pocket, making sure the earplugs were still tucked safely there, just in case. Just in case their best move was for Fae to scream and deafen their opponent before they could make a move. Maybe it wasn't much of a plan – especially against someone who could shoot lightning at them from a distance or something similar – but it was the best one they had.

But in order for that to work, they still had to find the other person. All they really had was a direction – and a somewhat vague one at that. Kiara tried to concentrate as they made their way in the direction of the sound. Or at least, what she was pretty sure was the direction of the sound. Unless there was another scream, they didn't have much of a way of finding anyone.

Unless…

Unless the scream had been because the other contestant was injured. That was how she had found Henry after the tornadoes, after all. She'd sensed that someone was badly hurt nearby. She wasn't feeling anything like that now, but whether that was because she wasn't close enough or because they weren't hurt badly enough, she wasn't sure. Maybe if she got close enough, she would be able to feel them.

Maybe. It was a big maybe, but it was all they had. The only thing they had to go on. Unless the coaches decided that now was a good time to drop another clue.

Right. Like they would really want to do that now. Like they really could do that in this weather. Like the MAAB would really let them do that if they really were close to the end of the Games. No, they probably weren't going to get any help from their coaches. But that was all right. Maybe it was better. After all, they'd made it this far without any help.

Suddenly, Kiara stopped and gave Fae's hand a squeeze. Fae turned, and Kiara pointed in what she was pretty sure was the right direction. The feeling was fainter than what she'd felt when Henry was nearby, but it was definitely … something. Something more to go on than trying to remember where a scream had come from. Kiara nodded at Fae as they set out again and managed a smile.

Maybe they weren't going to need help after all.


Seb, 16

Maybe they were going to make it after all.

Seb shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, which wasn't saying much in the circumstances. He'd managed to doze off a few times, and the last time…

"Frederick's gone." Cecily's voice was quiet – maybe trying not to wake Olivia, who was dozing beside her.

Seb nodded. "I know."

Cecily raised an eyebrow but didn't take her eyes off the road. "I see you met Diana."

"Yeah. Are we in Canada yet?"

"Yeah. Crossed the border about fifty miles back."

"Just like that?"

"Olivia knows a few mutant-friendly border agents. That's why we took a little detour out this way."

Seb nodded. He'd wondered why they'd gone all the way out to Washington if they were just trying to get to Canada. Of course, they'd been rather vague on exactly where in Canada they were going. Maybe they didn't even know yet, and were just following Diana's directions. "So how did you find Diana?" he asked.

Cecily shook her head. "We didn't. She found us – just like she found you, I guess. Did you get to see Frederick?"

"Yeah. Not for long before he … before he died. But long enough. We got to say goodbye, and that's more than a lot of people get." More than he and his uncle had gotten. He shifted a little in his seat. "How's Rick?"

"Alive."

Seb nodded. "That makes six of them now, right?"

"Yeah. Just Frederick while you were asleep."

Seb hesitated. Her voice was tense, but whether that was the conversation or the stress of driving for hours, he wasn't sure. "Are you two … close? You and Rick?"

For a moment, Seb was sure he'd said the wrong thing, but finally, Cecily shrugged. "We used to be. We went to middle school together, but that was years ago. I haven't even seen him in quite a while."

"What happened?"

"Nothing drastic. He switched schools a lot, and we lost touch after he and his dad moved to the suburbs. Then my dad lost his job, and we moved, too." She shook her head. "You're right. Not everyone gets to say goodbye."

"He's still alive," Seb pointed out.

"Yeah, but it's not like I'm going to see him again even if he makes it out. I just wish … well, I wish he knew someone was out here rooting for him. Does that make sense? I mean, none of the contestants even know the Games are being broadcast. They don't know how many people are watching."

"Do you think it would make a difference?"

Cecily shrugged. "You tell me. A few days ago, that was you in there. If you'd known your family and friends were watching you live, would it have mattered? Would you have done anything differently?"

Seb stared at the road ahead. "I'm not sure. I mean, I knew they'd see the Games eventually, because that's what happened last year. But I guess I wasn't really thinking about that."

Cecily nodded. "Fair enough. But I guess you never really did anything they might have disapproved of."

"Well, Alphonso and I did drink quite a lot."

"That's not exactly what I–"

"I know. You meant we didn't kill anyone."

"Well … yeah."

"And you think the contestants would be more reluctant to kill if they knew people were watching?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe the opposite. Maybe they'd want to make sure their families knew they were doing everything they could to survive. Or maybe it wouldn't make a difference at all." She shook her head.

"I guess we're going to find out next year."


Secretary Nicholas Wright, 64

"We're going to have to make some changes next year."

Nicholas leaned back in his chair as Alvin finally glanced away from the screen he was watching, where a series of red-orange blobs with pink centers seemed to be chasing each other north to south through a green and yellow field. Training, Alvin had called it earlier. The storms were training. Alvin raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

Nicholas shrugged. "You were right about the location. I thought it would be remote enough. I was wrong. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"It's more than I expected," Alvin admitted. "They've issued flash flood warnings for the area south of the Games. We've called in extra sentinels to help rescue anyone who's stranded. We'll be able to help minimize casualties, but the property damage is going to be–"

Nicholas waved a hand. "I'm not concerned with property damage. Buildings can be rebuilt. I'm more concerned about people. Speaking of which, any more storm chasers out there?"

Alvin shook his head. "Anyone who was out there earlier has probably packed it in for the night by now. Probably weren't that many to start with, though. See this?" He pointed to a white tail stretching west from one of the blobs.

Nicholas nodded. "Yes, I see it. What is it?"

"It's a three-body scatter spike. You get them with hail – probably larger hail in this area than the stuff that tripped Kylena up."

"And that other one up there?" There was another tail farther to the north – almost right on top of the northernmost contestants.

"More hail," Alvin agreed. "Certainly not weather anyone would want to be out chasing in – especially now that it's dark."

Nicholas nodded. That was good, at least. "That's something to remember for next year. We'll definitely want to make it harder for anyone else to access the area we're using for the Games." He shook his head. "Maybe we had the right idea last year. Just pick an isolated, uninhabited island about the right size and let them loose."

Alvin actually chuckled a little. "And that's your takeaway from all this? We just picked the wrong place? Pick an island next time, and everything will be fine? We just need to fix the mistakes from this year, and next time, it'll be flawless?"

Now it was Nicholas' turn to chuckle. "See, that's what you don't seem to understand about all this, Alvin. Things are fine right now. But if we pick a more isolated location next year, yes, things will be better. Will it be flawless? No. It probably never will be, but that's not the point. The point isn't to make something that's flawless; it's to make sure that the flaws work to your advantage. That's what Mack is doing right now. Admitting that we made mistakes, and promising that we're learning from them, that we won't be making the same mistakes next time."

"No, you'll be making all new ones," Alvin muttered.

"Maybe." Nicholas shook his head. "You're a mathematician, Alvin, and a damn good one. That's why you're here, and I'm happy to have you. But it's also why you tend to blow little flaws out of proportion. Mathematicians are always chasing perfection, and I respect that – I really do. But the Games don't have to be perfect in order to work. I'll be the first to admit that this year hasn't gone perfectly, and certainly hasn't gone according to plan. But look at where we are. There are six contestants left. Only four more deaths. The Games are almost over. It may not be going perfectly, but it's going." He leaned back in his chair.

"And that's the important thing."


"I don't know who the bigger fool is: Him for going, you for following, or me for not leaving you both."