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Different
Maria Nanami, 26
March 27, 19:45 MST
Could she have done anything differently?
Maria watched silently as Kylena loaded her two remaining pistols, using her bubble to keep the water off them as she did so. Gun safety – that was certainly something none of them had thought to include in their training regimen. It had never occurred to her to offer advice like "Don't keep a loaded pistol in your pocket." And of course, that was a double-edged sword. If she hadn't kept it loaded and had run into someone else, there was no guarantee she would be able to load it in time to make a difference.
What was making it worse was the fact that, in the dark, she couldn't even tell just how badly Kylena was injured. Badly enough to keep her from getting up for the moment, but she could just be resting, trying to gauge how bad it was, giving herself time to catch her breath. She had no way of knowing that Fae and Kiara were making their way towards her. Not quickly – none of them were moving quickly in the dark and the rain that was quickly turning to hail. But they didn't have to move quickly. They just had to keep moving in the right direction.
And that was another clue – although not a promising one – to how badly Kylena was hurt. Badly enough to give Kiara some idea of which direction to go. How far away could she sense that someone was hurt, and how bad did it have to be? For a moment, she considered asking Ian, but that probably wasn't something he'd thought to test during training, either. Would it have made a difference if he had?
It was certainly helping her now. Would it be able to help her find the others? Henry, Rick, Liv – all three of them had been injured. Would that be enough for her to find them? How else were they supposed to find each other in this mess? With Savannah gone, there was no more lightning to go by, so they would have to use something else. Henry had used their smaller golems to scout ahead a couple times, but did they have the strength for that now? Maria had a feeling the answer was no.
One thing at a time. Kiara and Fae would probably find Kylena before any of the others found each other, after all. And it probably wouldn't make much of a difference if Kylena did try to head somewhere else, because they hadn't pinpointed her location; they were just heading towards her. It wasn't fair. Kylena had been doing so well…
Maria tried to shake the thought away. It wasn't over yet. When Kiara and Fae found her, it would be two against one, yes. But she had two guns – and they didn't know that. Neither Kiara nor Fae had a weapon they could use from that far away. No, that wasn't quite true. Fae could scream from a distance and deafen her, but that wouldn't kill her. They would still have to get close in order to actually finish her off.
And would being deaf really put her at that much of a disadvantage against them? It wasn't as if she had any allies to communicate with – not anymore. As for the balance problems, she wasn't moving right now, anyway. She was still lying by the fallen down tree as debris slowly collected around her, washed downhill by the rain and caught in the branches. If she wasn't going anywhere, not being able to keep her balance wasn't much of a problem.
For now. If she managed to survive this – if she managed to kill both Kiara and Fae, which, admittedly, seemed like a pretty big 'if' – then she would have to get moving again. But Henry, Florence, and Iola had all found ways to keep going even after Fae's scream had affected their balance. And Vincent was … well, maybe not fine, but he was managing.
Of course, he wasn't in a fight to the death.
"You got that right," Vincent mumbled, and Maria couldn't help wondering how much of her thoughts he'd heard. "But I don't think you have to worry about that. I don't think she's planning to scream." He shook his head.
"I think she's worked out something different."
Kylena Albright, 16
She would have to think of something different.
Kylena tucked the pistols back in her pocket, then rifled through her backpack for the bottle of painkillers and took a few. But not too many. She couldn't be sure what the side effects might be, and she couldn't afford to lose her focus – not now that she was injured. And overdosing on painkillers certainly wasn't how she wanted to go. If she was going to die, she was going to go down fighting.
Huh. A few weeks ago, that thought would never have occurred to her. She hadn't wanted to fight. Given the option between dying in a possibly painful fight and simply taking too many painkillers and just falling asleep and never waking up again, she would probably have chosen the second one. Or at least been tempted. But now … she couldn't just give up now. Fighting at least came with a chance – however slim – of survival. She wanted that chance. She wanted to live. And the only way to live was to find a way to fight.
Which meant she had to think of something. Something that didn't involve struggling the rest of the way up the mountain. Even if she did somehow manage to make it up the slope, she would be in no condition to fight once she got there. So she had to bring the fight to her.
But how? She couldn't exactly shoot lightning into the air to give away her position. Shooting off one of the guns would give away the fact that she had a gun. And while she didn't exactly have a shortage of bullets, if she used the ones she had loaded, she would need time to reload. Besides, the chances of someone hearing a single gunshot – or even a few – and being able to pinpoint its location in the middle of a storm like this seemed slim.
There was something else she could do, of course. She could scream, and hope that someone would hear her – head towards her not because they wanted to help her, but because they would want to take the opportunity to finish her off. But that seemed too … obvious. They would have to realize it was a trap, wouldn't they? They wouldn't really think someone would be calling for help in the middle of a fight to the death, would they?
Unless she wasn't just calling for help. Calling out for someone specific – that might work. If Jaime was still alive, and the two of them had gotten separated, wouldn't that be her best chance of finding them again – even if it meant risking drawing someone else in. That might work. Anyone else who heard her might still be suspicious, but at least it would be more convincing than just a blind call for help.
"Jaime!" she called out into the darkness as loud as she could. "Jaime, help! I'm over here!" She waited a few more seconds, then tried again. "Jaime!"
After a few more tries, she decided to give it a rest, leaning back against the pile of debris, her bubble keeping the rain off – at least for now. Her leg stung enough without hail raining down on it. She couldn't help wondering how long it would take for the painkillers to kick in. It probably hadn't been that long since she'd taken them, though. She shook her head as she realized she had no idea how long to wait before taking more – or any way of tracking time at the moment even if there were instructions on the bottle. It was too dark to tell, and too dark to see a watch even if she'd had one. She would just have to rely on how she felt.
Kylena leaned back against the fallen tree. There. She was already thinking ahead. Already assuming she would make it long enough to need a second dose. That was more like it.
Now she just had to hope that her trap would work.
Kiara Moore, 15
It had to be a trap, didn't it?
Kiara froze as the voice shouted again, calling for Jaime. The voice sounded close, and it was coming from the same direction as the injury she was feeling. That made sense, but it seemed a bit … well, a bit too perfect. As if someone was trying to draw them in, because they didn't have much of a chance of finding a fight on their own. Whoever was hurt up ahead, she was close enough now to tell that it was their leg that was hurt. Not a fatal injury, but probably enough to keep them from moving for a while. So they were probably trying to bring the fight to them.
Kiara glanced down at Fae, who was watching her intently. It was probably a trap, but that didn't change what they had to do. They couldn't just walk away – not from someone they would have an advantage against. It would probably be two against one, unless…
Unless it wasn't a trap. If Jaime was nearby, it could be two against two. Maybe that was the trap – make them think it was a trap, and then have Jaime attack them. She remembered that there had been a Jaime during training, but she couldn't remember what their power was. She was pretty sure they hadn't demonstrated it at the talent show, but that could mean anything.
"They were working with Lea and Elio," Fae whispered – or at least, it sounded like a whisper in the pounding rain and small hail. The water rushing down the hill seemed stronger over here. Kiara leaned down a little to hear better. "Remember? The group that didn't want to fight? That's who Jaime was working with."
Kiara raised an eyebrow. That didn't make sense. Would a group like that really have lasted this long? Maybe if they'd been lucky enough not to run into anybody, and that would explain being naive enough to think that shouting out an ally's name was a good idea. Maybe it wasn't a trap after all.
Maybe it didn't matter.
Whether it was a trap or not, their plan was the same – had to be the same. Whoever was ahead up there was going to have to die if she and Fae were going to make it out of this alive. They'd been heading uphill hoping to find the other contestants. Now that they had found one, they couldn't just walk away, especially since the other contestant wasn't hurt badly enough that they would die on their own. It didn't matter whether it was a trap; they still had to fight. And they had to be careful either way.
Kiara nodded at Fae. "Got your knife?"
Fae held it up. "Got your earplugs?"
Kiara nodded. "You're planning to scream – give us even more of an advantage?" But would it be an advantage if the other person wasn't moving anyway? Maybe. At the very least, it might be enough to tell them whether there was a second person in the area.
But Fae shook her head. "I've got a better idea. Whoever's up there is probably expecting an attack, right?"
Kiara nodded. So Fae had worked out that it was probably a trap, too. "Probably."
"Probably rather tense, defensive, that sort of thing. Ready to spring into action the moment we show up?"
"Probably."
"And screaming probably isn't going to change that. If anything, it would make them even more quick to attack, right?"
"Makes sense."
Fae smiled. "So what would make them less likely to attack? What would make them a bit calmer?"
Kiara raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Still want me to put the earplugs in, though?"
"Yeah. Don't want you too relaxed."
Kiara nodded. "Good move."
Fae Tomasini, 13
"Good move."
Fae nodded her thanks, fighting back the churning in her stomach. It was a good move – maybe even the right move – but phrasing it like that made it sound a little too much like a game. Of course, it was a game. And that was the whole point of calling it a game – calling it the X-Games – to make it more palatable. To help them forget what they were really doing long enough to do it.
Fae glanced up at Kiara, grateful that the older girl hadn't asked why she remembered who Jaime had been working with. Lea had come to talk to her that first day – before the talent show. She'd asked if Fae was interested in joining their group. She'd said no, but for a moment or two, she'd thought about it – really thought about it. She hadn't wanted to fight.
But she hadn't wanted to die, either.
Fae clutched her knife tightly as they made their way in the direction the shouts had come from. It made sense for her to have the weapon, of course. If she got hurt, Kiara could heal her. If Kiara got hurt, there was no one to help her. It made sense for her to be the one to go in first. For her to be the one to try to kill whoever was up ahead, shouting for their friend. She couldn't see very well in the dark, but they had to be getting close. Fae nodded at Kiara, who put in her earplugs.
Then she started to sing, the only song she could think of. The same song she had sung at the talent show. That seemed so long ago now – all of the contestants finally relaxing a little, lulled by her voice. Vincent standing in the back, nodding along.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, as if she was a different person. Maybe she was. Maybe she had to be, in order to survive this. But if she made it out – if she and Kiara survived this – then maybe she could have that again. She could never go back to exactly the way things were, but maybe she could be happy.
Ave Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Fae tried to focus, trying to ignore the hail bouncing off her rain poncho, pouring as much of her attention as she could into the song. Relax. Whoever was up ahead, she needed them to relax. The more relaxed they were, the easier it would be.
The easier it would be to kill them.
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Pray for us sinners. Fae wiped the rain from her face. Maybe that was her. Maybe it was all of them.
Kiara was pointing at something. Still singing, Fae looked where she was pointing. Ahead of them in the distance was a pile of … something. Tree branches, maybe. And something moving. And something … something round. What would be round out here?
In hora mortis nostrae
Fae peered closer, squinting in the dark. The rain and the hail were bouncing off something round, almost like a–
A bubble.
Okay. So that was who was up ahead. Fae relaxed a little. As long as she could get the girl to drop the bubble, she had a good chance.
She just had to focus.
Kylena Albright, 16
It was getting hard to focus.
Kylena leaned back against the tree branches, listening as the music drifted over the sound of the rain and the hail. It was beautiful. Soothing. Relaxing. It had been so long since she'd relaxed – really relaxed. But now she felt like she could fall asleep and rest for ages.
Kylena blinked, struggling to keep her eyes open. But why was she still struggling? It was a trick – it had to be – but it felt good. Finally, after days of … of this, something felt good. Why was she still trying to fight it?
Slowly, her hand closed around something in her pocket. Something she knew was still there, because she'd sorted through her supplies before she'd gotten swept down the mountain. She'd thought maybe she could use them to drown out the sound of the hail and get some sleep, but now … now she wanted to listen.
Except…
Except for the part of her that wanted to live.
If she wanted to live, she had to focus. If she wanted to focus, she couldn't keep listening to that music, no matter how beautiful it was. Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Kylena took the earplugs out of her pocket and put them in.
Instantly, she shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Okay. Okay, so whoever was singing was hoping to lull her into sleep – or at least into enough of a trance that she wouldn't defend herself. And it had almost worked. Kylena clenched her fists. It had almost worked. Part of her had known it was a trap, and had wanted it to work.
But the rest of her had wanted to live.
Now she had to think, because whoever was singing was still out there, and probably didn't realize that she couldn't hear them anymore. So she could pretend – pretend to be listening, pretend not to care about anything else. Sirens. That was what it was – a song so beautiful that sailors didn't care that they were being lured to their deaths. But if she let the siren think it had worked, she could lure them to their death instead.
Kylena reached into her pocket again, and this time her fingers closed around the gun. That had been the plan, after all, when she'd started screaming. Lure someone in, and then shoot them. It wasn't much of a plan, maybe, but at least now she knew there was someone out there – and, from the sound of it, somewhere close. Kylena stared out into the darkness, searching for any sign of the singer.
They couldn't be far away.
Fae Tomasini, 13
She couldn't be far away now.
Fae took another step towards the bubble, and then another. She still wasn't close enough to see the girl inside, but she remembered her from the talent show. The one who could make bubbles – bubbles large enough, sometimes, for people to fit inside them. It would probably be hard to break through it, but she didn't need to break through it. She just needed to keep singing long enough for the girl to doze off and drop it.
Fae glanced over at Kiara, who ducked down, keeping close behind Fae as they crept closer. If something did go wrong – if there was someone else out here that the girl in the bubble had been calling for – then it was better to stick together. It wasn't as if the girl in the bubble would really be able to see her – or anything, in the dark. They'd only noticed the bubble because of the way the rain and the hail were bouncing off it.
But not bouncing off it quite so much anymore, Fae realized. Some of the rain and hail was getting through. As if the bubble was weakening. Fae clenched her fists and sang louder. It was working. It was really working. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner?
Of course, she knew why she hadn't. It was terrible – using music like this. Making someone feel safe and happy and then … then killing them. But was it really any worse than any other way of killing them? After all, she would make it quick. The girl would barely feel it. That was the best sort of death anyone could ask for in the circumstances.
Fae gripped her knife tightly. She just had to get close enough. She could barely see the bubble now. She was close. So close. Almost close enough. Still singing, she crept towards the girl, only a few feet away now. The girl looked up dreamily and smiled at her.
And raised the gun.
And shot.
She barely felt it.
Kiara Moore, 15
She only felt it for a second.
Kiara froze as Fae's body crumpled to the ground. Dead. Already dead. No time to heal her. No time to do anything but scream and lunge at the girl with the gun. But the bubble was already up again, bouncing her back. Kiara fell backwards beside Fae's body, snatching the knife from where it had fallen next to her. Fae was dead. But she was still alive. Still alive, because the girl couldn't shoot through the bubble. But that meant Kiara couldn't get to her, either.
And she wanted to get to her.
Kiara tore a branch from the fallen tree and took a swing at the bubble, only vaguely aware that she was screaming. Nothing. The girl inside was taking her time. Choosing her moment. She would have time to aim. All she would have to do was drop the bubble for a second and shoot. That was all it would take.
So why hadn't she done it?
Kylena Albright, 16
Why wouldn't she just stay still?
Kylena gripped the gun tightly, trying to focus. But the other girl was moving too quickly, swinging the branch here and there in the dark. The other girl had been standing so still, convinced her plan was working. This one was moving all over the place, screaming, crying. Kylena still had her earplugs in, so she couldn't make out the words, but it wasn't much of a leap to assume that she was screaming for her friend.
Her friend. Just like Kylena had been screaming for Jaime. But Jaime was dead. And the little girl was dead. Now it was just the two of them. Except it obviously wasn't just the two of them left, because that would mean the Games were over. And then the MAAB would do something, wouldn't they?
Would they? What had they done last year? She couldn't remember, but she'd just been assuming they would have some way of letting them know when it was just two of them left. No, there were probably still others. Whoever was shooting the lightning off, for a start, although she hadn't seen any of that in a while. But there were probably more.
Which meant the other girl would have to die, too.
Kylena raised her gun, taking aim as well as she could in the dark. If she timed it right, and let the girl fall through the bubble as she was swinging, then she would be close. Close enough to hit. She only had a knife, after all. What good would a knife be against a gun?
Okay then.
The girl swung. Kylena dropped the bubble and fired, but the girl kept coming. Shit. She must have missed. Kylena gripped the gun, ready to fire again, but something hit her in the face. The tree branch. Shit. Blood was dripping down her face now, dripping in her eyes. The other girl was on top of her, grabbing at her, trying to wrestle the gun away. Kylena squeezed the trigger again, hoping. Again. And again.
But the girl didn't let go.
Kiara Moore, 15
She didn't let go.
Kiara gripped the other girl's wrist tightly as she squeezed the trigger again. She couldn't let go. If she let go, she would be able to aim better. And she had already hit her once. Kiara could feel the blood dripping down her arm, its warmth all that distinguished it from the rain, which was getting even colder. She would just have to hope the wound wasn't too deep. She couldn't spare the time to look now, and it was too dark to tell anyway. She could barely see her opponent in the rain and the hail. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was holding on, keeping her from shooting properly. She'd dropped the knife in the struggle, but the knife didn't matter, either.
Kiara gripped the other girl's wrists and focused. There was something there – something she could use. The injury that she had been following – she had a much clearer picture now. It was a leg injury, and it had been bleeding pretty badly. The bleeding had stopped, but–
But she could start it again.
Focus. She could feel the wound opening, the blood starting to flow. The girl's eyes widened, as if realizing that Kiara was doing something. She squeezed the trigger again, but nothing happened. She was out of bullets. She wriggled desperately, trying to break free, but Kiara held on. A wave of water struck them, slamming the pair of them against the fallen tree, but Kiara kept her grip. The other girl was still struggling, but not as much. She was losing her energy. She was losing too much blood.
Kiara wrenched the empty gun from the girl's grip and tossed it away, then slammed her back against the fallen tree. Again. And again. And again. Blood. She could tell there was more blood. And then … nothing.
Nothing but a sudden rush of water and a falling sensation as the tree gave way.
For a moment, she couldn't see anything as the water dragged her under. Her backpack was caught on something – something that was dragging her down. Kiara wormed her way out of the strap and struck out for the surface. She couldn't see the other girl's body, but that didn't matter. She couldn't feel any injuries anymore. That meant the other girl was dead. But if Kiara didn't want to join her, she would have to get out of the current.
Out of the riptide.
Right. Kiara found what footing she could and struck out to the right. The direction she and Fae had come from. The slope had been shallower over there. That was what Fae had said to do. Don't fight the riptide. Move at an angle.
Kiara staggered to her feet and kept moving, finally managing to reach a tree. She clung tightly to it, catching her breath. She was alive. She was still alive. Fae was dead. She had no weapons. No supplies. Her arm was still bleeding.
But she was alive.
Liv Holle, 18
She was still alive.
Liv shook her head, then rubbed her eyes as she sat up from where she had been slumped against a tree. She must have fallen asleep. How the hell had she fallen asleep? Sure, she was tired, but in this weather? When she could be attacked at any moment?
Liv shuddered. That part would be true no matter how long she waited, of course. As long as the Games were going, an attack could come at any moment. And now that she had no one to watch her back, she would have to be careful. But what did 'careful' even look like right now?
Okay. Okay, she had to think. She couldn't just stay awake forever. She'd thought, when she and Savannah had decided to head for higher ground, that the others would be doing the same thing – and quickly. And one of them had, clearly, but there were obviously others left. Maybe they weren't as close to the end of the Games as she'd thought. Maybe they weren't anywhere near as close. If that was the case, she needed to get some rest.
Which meant she would have to work with what she had. So what did she have? She had two knives and the gun she had found on the boy, but what else? Maybe something that wasn't a weapon, but could still be useful. Stifling a yawn, she rummaged through her pack. Plenty of food. Some extra clothes – all soaked. A box of matches. Liv shook her head. Right. That was exactly what she needed in this weather. A pair of compasses. A few bandages she hadn't used yet. And some rope.
Rope. Okay. She could work with rope. Slowly, she got up and made her way over to a tree a bit farther away. She tied the rope around the trunk about halfway between ankle height and knee height. Then she made her way to the next tree, pulled the rope taut, and tied it off. The next tree was a bit farther away, but there was actually quite a bit of rope. Huh. Maybe this was why the MAAB had included rope in the first place.
It wasn't much of a trap, of course. The rope was pretty thick. Anyone who was watching where they were going would probably see it – in daylight, at least. But at night, in the rain, when they were probably just as tired as she was? Maybe she would get lucky. Maybe someone would actually trip over it, and–
And then what? If she was asleep, that wasn't going to do her much good unless they shouted and woke her up. If anything, all it was going to do was tell the other contestants that someone was nearby. But if she was awake…
Damn. That meant she would have to stay awake. That was what she'd been trying to avoid. She couldn't stay awake forever. But maybe … well, maybe just until the storm stopped. She hadn't been trying to stop it, of course, but she'd just assumed that it would stop eventually, like the other storms had. It couldn't just keep raining and hailing forever, could it?
No, eventually it would stop. Or at least die down enough for her to get a better look around in daylight. Not that she had any way of knowing what time of day it was, of course. It had been dark for … well, quite a while. It felt like hours, but had it been? How long had she been asleep? It could be morning, for all she knew. Maybe she had already slept through the night.
Liv slumped back against a tree and stretched her arms. She didn't feel like she'd already slept through the night. She felt exhausted. Her leg ached. She just wanted to rest. She wanted sleep – real sleep. She wanted to go home.
She wanted this to be over.
Henry Helstrom, 14
They just wanted this to be over.
Henry opened their eyes as a larger vibration ran through the golem. They glanced down. From what little they could see in the dark, the hail was getting larger. Rick was asleep, so he probably wasn't causing that. Probably. Henry realized they really had no idea how Rick's power actually worked. If he was having a bad dream or something, would that make the weather worse? Maybe. Or maybe it was the other weather person. Or maybe it was just bad luck.
Henry shuddered and closed their eyes again. It was easier with their eyes closed. Easier to just let the golem keep going and hope it got them where they needed to go. The dizziness was a little better with their eyes closed, and the pain in their arm and chest was giving way to numbness. Henry wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Everything felt a bit … fuzzy. That wasn't quite the right word, but it was probably as close as they were going to get. In some corner of the back of their mind, they knew they weren't thinking straight. They were just so damn tired, and they couldn't sleep – not really sleep. Drifting in and out of consciousness like this didn't really count as sleep.
They just wanted to sleep.
To leave the pain behind.
For just a little while.
Henry squeezed their eyes shut tighter, trying to focus. They did want it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. If they really just wanted it to end, they could stop. They could drop the golem and ask Rick to do it. He would make it quick. It would certainly be less painful than whatever was probably going to happen when they found someone else.
But they hadn't asked for that. And they weren't going to, because they didn't want to die. Not really. They just wanted the Games to be over. Chances were, those meant the same thing, but if they kept going, they at least had a chance.
And they wanted that chance.
They'd always wanted that chance. They'd done their best to give themself that chance. They'd left Kiara, Fae, and Iola at the start of the Games because they wanted to give themself a chance. They'd left Frederick and Seb when the tornadoes had come because they'd thought that would give themself their best chance. They'd tricked Fae into deafening them rather than using her power to loosen their control over the golem because they had a better chance this way. And now…
Henry glanced down. Now they still had a chance, but they were also giving Rick a chance. Rick was fast asleep, getting some well-needed rest, because that would give him a chance against whoever they were going to find. And whatever gave Rick a better chance gave Henry a better chance, too, because Rick was in a better position to do the actual fighting, and it didn't really matter who was the one to kill the other contestants. He just had to get Rick there.
And the golem was getting them there, although Henry could tell that it wasn't going to be very pretty by the time it got there. The hailstones were starting to dent the surface of the golem, and they didn't have the energy to fix it. They had to save their strength for … well, for whatever was going to happen when they found another contestant.
Besides, the golem was still moving – just eroding a bit. That was fine. It would hold together – probably. It just wouldn't look very pretty. But it didn't have to look good. It just had to get them there.
There. Wherever there was. As far as they knew, the golem was still heading for the spot where the lightning had been. But there hadn't been any for a while – or at least, they hadn't seen any. That didn't really mean much, though. They might have been unconscious. They might have had their eyes closed.
Or maybe there just hadn't been any lightning. Maybe whoever had been shooting it was dead, or injured enough to realize that broadcasting their position wasn't such a good move right now. Or maybe they'd just missed it. Maybe they both had. How long had Rick been asleep? And it wasn't as if he had a way to tell Henry he'd seen lightning even if he had. Henry sighed. They probably wouldn't even know there was another contestant nearby until someone jumped out and attacked them. Part of them hoped that would happen soon.
Then, one way or another, it would all be over.
Kiara Moore, 15
She hoped it would be over soon.
Kiara leaned back against the tree as she finished bandaging her arm. She'd torn a few strips from her shirt to wrap around the wound, and had managed to stop the bleeding. Fortunately, the bullet hadn't gone too deep, but it still stung like hell, and the hail pounding down wasn't helping.
Of course, neither was the fact that she was just sitting here, with nothing to do but think about how much things had gone wrong. Fae was dead. She hadn't even had the chance to think about healing her before she was just … gone. Just like that.
She hadn't been prepared for that. The people they'd come across so far hadn't had much in the way of weapons. The boy the first night had tried to strangle Fae with nothing but his bare hands. The other boy they had killed had been unarmed, as well. There had been a knife in one of their packs at the start, so it only stood to reason that some of the other contestants might have them, as well. But she'd never imagined that someone might have a gun.
That would certainly be a useful thing to have. But the gun was gone now, probably flowing down the mountain along with the bodies. Kiara shuddered. What would happen to the bodies? Would they simply be buried in the mud? Would the MAAB even bother trying to retrieve them? She'd never really thought about that before, but the thought of Fae's body just lying there covered in mud…
Kiara wiped away her tears as well as she could. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But maybe … well, maybe this was how it was always going to go. They'd been lucky, really – right up until the tornado hit. The contestants they'd run into had been unarmed, and their powers hadn't really been much help against Fae. Now they'd finally run into someone who had the advantage instead, and they'd been outmatched. Maybe that had been inevitable. Whoever was left at this point was probably going to have some sort of an advantage. She'd thought she and Fae had an advantage, between's Fae's voice and her power giving her a sense of where the other contestant was. But it hadn't been enough.
Maybe it was never going to be enough.
Kiara stared out into the dark. It was only a matter of time before someone found her, and now whatever advantage she had was gone. She couldn't heal herself. She couldn't rely on Fae to deafen her opponents anymore. Now it was just … her. Her and a power that she had to get close enough to use. She had to be able to touch someone to bring their injuries back, and what were the chances of that happening of the other person had a power they could use from a distance – or a gun?
Where the hell had she gotten a gun?
For a moment, Kiara considered heading down the mountain to try to find the damn thing, but that was the wrong direction. And it was probably pointless. The girl had run out of bullets, after all, and even if she'd had more somewhere, the chances of finding both the gun and the bullets in the dark and the rain and the hail and the mud…
No, she couldn't afford to waste time doing that. Not when she should be going the other direction. Not now that she had no food, no water, no supplies. Well, that wasn't quite true. She still had her earplugs, which she'd tucked back in her pocket. And there was plenty of water. Too much water. But the food would eventually be a problem.
Eventually. But not if the Games were almost over. That was the trouble, really – she had no way of knowing. The list of people she could be certain were dead was actually quite short. Fae. Iola. The boy Iola had killed. The boy Fae had killed. The girl she had killed.
Kiara shuddered. She had killed, and she hadn't even thought about it – not really. She'd opened up the girl's wound and just let the blood flow out until she was dead. She hadn't actually killed with her power before. She'd used it to bring back the first boy's headache, giving Iola the chance to finish him off. And she'd used it to bring back the second boy's electric shock, letting Fae finish him off. But she hadn't brought back something that would actually kill someone.
And the strange thing was, it had been easy. Frighteningly easy. And it would be easy to do it again, if she got the chance.
A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have considered it. She wouldn't even have thought of it. Hell, it had been Vincent who had suggested it during training. She certainly wouldn't have come up with it on her own.
Or maybe she would have. Not during training, certainly. She'd assumed that her role would be keeping her teammates alive. That was what she'd always done, after all. But when push came to shove in the middle of a fight, would she have thought of that on her own – using her power to wound rather than heal?
Maybe. Maybe not. And that had been the point of training, really – the reason Vincent had suggested it. He'd wanted her to know ahead of time whether it would really work. And it had helped – being certain that she could do it. And now she was certain – deadly certain – that she could do it again if she needed to.
When she needed to.
Slowly, Kiara stood up and started up the slope again. She had to keep going. She and Fae had figured the other contestants would head for high ground, and that was probably still the case. If there was anyone nearby, that was where they'd be. Maybe if she got close enough, she would be able to tell where they were – if any of them were hurt, at least. It was hard to imagine that someone had gotten this far and not been hurt in some way, after all. It was just a matter of getting close enough to be able to feel it.
Then she would have to figure out her next move.
Rick Clifton, 19
He wished he knew what their next move was.
Rick's eyes flew open as a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Just normal thunder. Well, just normal thunder this time – as far as he could tell. He glanced up at Henry, but their eyes were closed. Whether they were asleep or unconscious or just happened to have their eyes closed, Rick wasn't sure, and asking wouldn't do any good.
Not for the first time, he wondered what he was supposed to do if he did see another contestant up ahead. It wasn't as if Henry would hear him if he shouted that there was someone there. Would the golem be able to tell if they were near someone else? Had Henry told it to do anything in particular if they found someone, or would it just keep going? In the dark, they could probably walk right past another contestant and never know the difference.
Maybe they already had. How long had he been asleep? Had they already reached wherever the lightning had been before? Had he missed more lightning while he'd been asleep? He had no way of knowing, and even if he had a way to ask Henry, there was a good chance they didn't know either. Rick shook his head. He wished he knew what the plan was.
He wished there was a plan.
Rick tucked his hand into his pocket. He still had the two knives Henry had given him. But that wasn't a plan. A weapon was good, but it wasn't a plan. The truth was, he had no idea what he would do if they found someone – or if someone found them.
No, not if. When. They couldn't just keep wandering around out here forever, could they? They had to run into someone eventually.
Didn't they?
The golem couldn't keep going forever, after all. It had seemed indestructible at first, from a distance, but now that it was carrying him, he could see that it was starting to show some wear. The hailstones were starting to dent it, the constant stream of rain starting to erode it. And Henry wasn't trying to fix it, which probably meant they didn't have the strength to concentrate enough to do anything about it. Or maybe they'd simply decided it wasn't important right now – that they'd only spare the concentration to fix it if the golem actually stopped going.
And it hadn't stopped going yet, but that couldn't last forever. But maybe … well, maybe it would last long enough. It just had to get them where they were going, and then…
Then what?
He had absolutely no idea.
Absently, Rick pulled one of the knives from his pocket and tucked it in the other one. A knife on each side. That was something. Not much, but a little something. A little edge. If he kept one of the knives in his pocket once they found someone, then they wouldn't know he had two. That wasn't much of an advantage, but it was something.
Rick leaned back in the golem's arms, painfully aware that all this worrying was probably just making the weather even worse than it already was. It certainly hadn't been hailing this hard a while ago. But he couldn't help it. And maybe … well, maybe it was better if he didn't try. After all, he and Henry had at least some protection from the worst of the storm. Maybe some of the other contestants didn't. Maybe this was another little thing that might give him an edge.
When you're not fighting, then you can worry about the weather. That was what Vincent had said during training. Rick had assumed that he'd meant that when he wasn't fighting, he could worry about trying to calm the weather down. But now calm weather was exactly what he didn't want, because maybe – just maybe – making the other contestants even more miserable than they already were would give him and Henry an advantage.
And they needed any advantage they could get.
Dr. Alvin Mendelson, 61
"You're going to need all the help you can get."
Alvin watched as Anita and Judah eyed him curiously, maybe searching for any hint that he was kidding. He wasn't, but part of him wished he was. Going for a helicopter ride in the middle of a storm in the dead of night wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Judah and Anita were the obvious choices. Anita because this was what she was here for, after all – to make sure that whichever contestants survived the Games actually survived. And Judah to fly the helicopter. But–
"You think I'll need an extra pair of hands," Anita reasoned. "In case both of the contestants who make it out are injured."
Alvin nodded. "It's certainly a possibility."
Judah shook his head. "You did just fine by yourself last year."
"True," Anita agreed. "But Penelope wasn't hurt badly, and if I'd known going in that there were going to be two of them, I might have asked for an extra pair of hands." She turned back to Alvin. "But why you, specifically?"
Alvin glanced around the room. "Are you seeing any other volunteers?"
Anita shrugged. "I'm sure if we asked–"
"That's not what I said. Did anyone else volunteer? Did anyone else put two and two together and realize you might need some help? No."
Anita raised an eyebrow. "So you're calling dibs, is that it? You thought of it first, so you're the one who should go?"
"Not because I thought of it first, but because I thought of it at all. My focus is in the right place. Why do you think you're here in the first place? I told them last year that we'd need a doctor. Now I'm telling you that you'll want an extra pair of hands."
"So why not two doctors, then?"
Alvin shook his head. "You don't need another doctor. You just need someone who can keep a cool head and follow instructions. If the weather were calmer, I'm sure Judah would fit the bill once he landed the helicopter, but I'm guessing you've already ruled out landing."
Anita glanced at Judah, who shrugged. "Unless the weather settles down."
"It won't. Even turning off their collars probably wouldn't do any good now. The storm'll keep going on its own for quite a while."
"Longer than it'll take for them to find each other, you think?" Judah asked.
Alvin nodded. "That won't take much longer. The golem's been slowing down a bit in the hail, but they should reach Liv in about two or three hours. And Kiara's making good progress now. Once she gets closer to Liv, she should be able to pinpoint her location the way she did with Kylena. And once they find each other … I don't think it'll take long, whichever way it goes. They're all exhausted – physically and mentally. They all just want it to be over with."
Judah nodded. "So what you're saying is, we won't have much of a window."
Alvin hesitated. That wasn't quite what he'd been saying, but he probably shouldn't be surprised that was how Judah had interpreted it. Judah was a soldier. He was a mathematician. Anita was a doctor. But maybe those three things weren't so different after all. And Judah had said we, after all. "No, we won't," Alvin agreed. "So we have to get this right – all of us."
Anita nodded. "Okay. On one condition. When it comes to flying, Judah's in charge. When it comes to medicine, I'm in charge. You're there to help. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Perhaps you and I are not so different after all."
