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Survival

Vincent Reid, 28
March 28, 01:08 MST

At least one of them was going to survive.

Vincent blinked hard, fighting to stay awake as he glanced from one screen to another. Liv. Kiara. Rick. Henry. Four contestants left, and three of them were his. That meant that whoever made it out, at least one of them would be his. Maybe even both. Last year, two of his contestants had survived until the island started crumbling, but then Taylor had placed sixth, and Akil had been the last one to die. Penelope had been one of Maria's contestants; Piper had been Ian's.

Not that it really mattered – or at least, not that it should really matter – who was whose. Between the groups that had formed, they'd each ended up working with quite a few contestants during training who weren't technically theirs. He'd worked with Kiara just as often as he had with Henry, even though she was technically Ian's contestant, because at the time, they'd been in the same group. Maria had probably spent even more time with Liv than he had, because both Lee and Elena had been hers. And all of them had told the contestants from the start that wearing the same color didn't make them teams.

But he had to admit, it did feel different this year. Not good, certainly. Two more children were still going to die, and that would never feel good. And the fact that Penelope and Maria's contestants were all dead – that wasn't good, either. They'd worked just as hard as he had, and all of their contestants were gone.

Except that wasn't quite true. Seb was still out there somewhere. Or at least, they just had to hope he was still out there somewhere. And he had been one of Penelope's. But he wouldn't be here coaching next year. Of course, Piper wasn't here with them, either, but at least they knew where she was. At least they knew she was still alive. Besides, for all they knew, the MAAB had something similar planned for one or both of this year's survivors. Would they even be here coaching with them next year?

Vincent caught a flicker of a smile on Penelope's lips. He shook his head, trying to focus. How much of that had she picked up? It was always harder to control which thoughts he was sending when he was tired, and they were all exhausted now. But even if she'd caught some of his thoughts, what was there to smile about? The fact that Seb was probably still alive? But the smile had been almost … almost as if she was amused.

Still watching the screens, Penelope shifted her position to the other side of Vincent. I'll tell you after it's over came through loud and clear, but he wasn't getting anything beyond that. Penelope was usually easy to pick up, but she could go completely blank like that sometimes, as if she wasn't thinking about anything at all.

Most people couldn't – not really. If you asked someone not to think about a fluffy white cat, for example, that was usually the first image to pop into their mind. But Penelope's mind worked differently. When the next thought came, he was sure she'd intended it to be heard. I just hope they can get to the survivors in time.

Vincent nodded. With the way the weather was going, that wasn't a guarantee, and it would probably only get worse as Rick and Liv got closer together. If Kiara was one of the survivors, of course, she might be able to help the MAAB out a little, but she couldn't heal herself. And even if she had some way to know for sure when there were only two of them left, would she even want to heal whoever the other person was? After all, the MAAB had needed to pull Piper and Penelope apart last year to keep them from killing each other.

Apples and oranges, he knew. Penelope and Piper hadn't known that two of them could survive. And even if they had, they hadn't known they were the only two left. They'd probably had some idea that they were close to the end of the Games, given the fact that the island had been collapsing under their feet, but they hadn't known – couldn't have known – that it was just them. They hadn't known until the MAAB had arrived to take them back.

So what would happen if they couldn't?

Vincent stared at the screens, trying to convince himself that they had a plan. That they had to have a plan. They'd known the weather could get rough; that was the whole point of choosing two weather manipulators in the first place. But had they really expected both of them to make it this far – far enough to have an effect on the weather at the very end of the Games? He had a feeling the answer to that was no.

But here they were – Liv waiting uphill, her trap set, and Rick still tucked safely in the golem's arms. He and Henry weren't far away now from where Liv was waiting. Kiara was farther, but moving faster. Maybe not close enough yet to be able to tell that she was near someone who was injured, but it was only a matter of time.

No matter how things went, they wouldn't be waiting much longer.

Liv Holle, 18

How much longer would she be waiting?

Liv pulled her sleeping bag a little tighter around her shoulders as she stared out into the darkness, nibbling on a stick of jerky, trying to stay awake. She didn't dare close her eyes now – not even for a moment or two. She had already accidentally fallen asleep once, and was lucky enough to still be alive. If it happened again…

Maybe the same thing would happen. Maybe she would wake up. Or maybe not. She couldn't take that risk – not when the other contestants probably had a pretty good idea of where she was. If she really wanted to get some rest – no, when she wanted to get some rest – she would have to do it somewhere else. But wandering around in this storm certainly didn't seem like a good idea. At least here, it was relatively flat. There were a few trees to block at least a little of the rain and hail. And as long as she was just sitting here, she wasn't going to take a wrong step and get washed down the mountain.

So she could wait. A little longer, at least. Until the storm died down a little. Or at least until it was a little lighter. She was pretty sure it was still nighttime, at least. During the day, there had been at least a little light to see by. Now there was just an occasional hint of moonlight behind the clouds, and a flash of lightning now and then. That was it.

She did have a headlamp, but was that really going to do any good right now? Probably not. She wasn't sure how far its light would reach, but whatever range it normally had was probably dampened quite a bit by the rain. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anything to see. Just rain. Sure, she could use it to look around and hope that she happened to be looking in the right direction to see someone coming, but it was more likely that they would see the light before she would see them.

But maybe once they did know she was there…

Liv slipped on one of the headlamps. She could always turn it on later if she thought it would help. It wasn't much, maybe, but it was something. Something that might give her a little bit of an edge.

Maybe that was all she would need.

Kiara Moore, 15

She just needed to keep going.

Kiara clenched her fists tightly as she trudged uphill in the dark. It was slow going, but at least she was making progress. And at least the hail had stopped. Now it was just raining again. Right. Just rain. Just a torrent of rain that would have made it impossible to see anything in front of her even if it wasn't pitch black because of the clouds. Occasionally, a flash of lightning lit the slope ahead, but other than that, there wasn't much to follow.

Not much. But there was something – still faint, in the distance. Just enough to give her some sense that she was going the right way. Not close enough to tell how badly they were hurt, not even enough to tell how many people were hurt. Just enough to keep her headed in the right direction. Just enough to make her want to keep going rather than stop for the night.

Kiara almost chuckled at the thought. Right. Like she would actually be able to get any sleep even if she did try to stop. No, not now. Not now that Fae was gone. Not now that she had no one to keep watch while she slept. And certainly not now that one more strong wave of water could sweep her back down the mountain – right back where she had started.

No, she had to keep going. Right now, she had an edge – however small. She knew how to find some of the other contestants. How many of the others would actually have a reliable way to locate anyone else? Probably not many of them, or more of them would have been doing it by now. The Games would certainly have gone a lot faster if more of them could track each other like she was doing now.

How much faster would they have gone if she had realized she could do it sooner?

Kiara shook the thought from her head. Probably not much. It wasn't as if they hadn't known where some of the other contestants were, after all. The person who had been shooting lightning hadn't been shy about giving away their location. And the coaches had sent a message trying to steer them in the direction of some of the others. But she and Fae hadn't followed either of those leads, because they hadn't wanted to end up fighting someone stronger than they were. Someone who would have an advantage.

But it had only been a matter of time.

Kiara blinked hard, staring ahead into the darkness. Fae was dead. But she was still alive. And she needed any advantage she could get. Right now, that meant she had to keep going, had to find whoever was ahead while they still didn't expect it. She didn't have a weapon. She had to get closer in order to use her power against them. That meant she would need the element of surprise. And that meant she had to find them, rather than the other way around.

She just hoped that would be enough.

Rick Clifton, 19

He just hoped they would get where they were going soon.

Rick yawned and huddled a little closer to the golem as it plodded along. It wasn't much protection from the rain, but at least if he was leaning against the golem, there was a part of him that wasn't getting pelted. Not that it mattered much; he was already soaked through. The only positive side of that was that whoever else was out here was probably just as wet and cold and miserable as he was.

Probably. There was always a chance that someone was left who had a way of protecting themself from the weather the way the golem was shielding Henry. It was possible, but it didn't seem likely for most of them. He tried to think back to the talent show, but it seemed like so long ago. Who else's power might be useful for keeping off the rain?

Then again, they wouldn't have guessed at the time that Henry could do this, either. The golems they'd made during the talent show had been tiny, about the size of the one that had stolen Rick's water bottle. He'd had no idea that Henry could make ones this big. Had that been deliberate on Henry's part – trying to mislead the other contestants about their power? Or had they learned to make larger ones during the Games?

Rick tried to focus. Kylena's bubbles might be useful for keeping the rain off. A girl during the talent show had brought her shadow to life. Depending on how solid it was, that might be able to act as some sort of protection. And there had been a girl who had turned into metal, hadn't there? Of course, metal could get just as wet as anything else, but it wouldn't get soaked through. Then again, hail could certainly damage metal. It had done a number on the golem, after all. The hail had given way to rain again a little while ago, but the golem had certainly taken a beating. How much more could it take before Henry would have to do some sort of repairs?

Rick rubbed his eyes as a flash of lightning lit the sky. But not, as far as he could tell, the other contestant's lightning. After a few seconds, there was a roll of thunder. Then another flash, and something caught Rick's eye. Something ahead of them, stretching across the ground. No, above the ground. A third flash clearly illuminated the rope, but it was too late. The golem was headed straight for it.

And he had no way to tell Henry.

Shit.

Rick tried to knock on the side of the golem, but would Henry be able to tell the difference between that and the pounding rain? Was Henry even awake? Rick wriggled, trying to free himself from the golem's grasp, but it was holding on tightly. Clearly, Henry hadn't meant for him to fall if he shifted in his sleep.

But if the golem fell over while it was holding him–

Henry Helstrom, 14

The golem was falling.

Henry barely had time to register the fact as the golem lurched forward. For a moment, it swayed, trying to remain standing. Just a moment. But that moment was enough. Henry held their breath, trying to focus. Let go. They felt the golem's arms relax a little as it fell, and then felt it turn, rotating just enough that when it fell, it wouldn't fall on Rick, who was already wriggling free of its arms.

Crack. Fresh pain shot through Henry's left arm as the golem landed on its side, leaving everything else a blur. They caught a glimpse of Rick scrambling to his feet before everything went dark. Well, darker than it already was. Henry closed their eyes, trying to hold onto consciousness. The golem was already battered from the hail, and the fall had only made the cracks worse. They could feel some rain starting to leak through. If they lost control, it was only a matter of time before someone decided they were too tempting a target.

But how long could they really hold on?

Liv Holle, 18

Could she really get that lucky?

Liv sprang to her feet as the rock creature tumbled forwards, landing awkwardly and then laying still as something scrambled out of its arms. That had been the whole point of the trap, of course, but part of her hadn't expected it to work so perfectly. One of her opponents was down. The other was getting to his feet, but didn't look like he'd spotted her yet in the dark. That meant she had time. Liv took a deep breath, waiting. Waiting for what had to come eventually.

Flash. A bolt of lightning lit the sky, and she took aim. She fired once, waited a moment for another flash, and then fired again. Nothing. The boy was still standing. Shit. And she only had one bullet left. Had she hit him at all? Missed entirely? It was too dark to tell. He was too far away.

And there was only one bullet left.

But he didn't know that.

The boy was moving closer now, unsure. Cautious. Liv bit her lip. Think. She gave the gun a shake, hoping she looked frustrated enough for it to be convincing. Pretending to pull the trigger again, then lowering the gun, hoping he would buy the act – or at least be uncertain enough to come close enough for her to aim properly.

Just a little closer…

Rick Clifton, 19

Just a little closer.

Rick took a step closer. Then another. The girl had lowered the gun. Did that mean she was out of bullets? Or that she was trying to make him think she was out of bullets? After all, she hadn't thrown the gun away – just lowered it. If she really was out of bullets, why hold onto it? Unless she had more in her pack and was waiting for a chance to reload. But if that was what she was waiting for, wasn't this it? Wasn't this her chance, while he was still too far away to be a threat?

Unless she thought he might have a gun, as well. It was probably too dark for her to tell from this distance that he only had a knife. Of course, if it came to that, he had no way of knowing what other weapons she might have, either. But he knew what he had. He had a pair of knives, and he certainly wasn't going to count on hitting her if he threw one. Which meant he would have to get closer, regardless of whether she had any more bullets or not.

Sometimes you have to be willing to take a blow in order to get a better one in. The trick is knowing when that is. That was what Judah had said. And how do you know? he had asked, but now … now there wasn't a question. It had to be now. If it wasn't now, it would be too late.

He charged.

Liv Holle, 18

The boy charged.

Liv gripped the gun tightly as the boy ran, ducking and weaving in the rain, trying to make himself a harder target. Maybe he hadn't fallen for the trick. Maybe he knew – or at least guessed – that she still had one bullet left. But she only had one, which meant she would have to let him get close. And she still couldn't see very well in the dark–

Slowly, Liv raised a hand to the headlamp. How bright would it actually be? She wasn't sure, but it was worth a try. She couldn't rely on lightning to happen at the right time. Couldn't count on a flash before he reached her. But she could control this.

She turned the headlamp on, aimed, and fired.

Bang.

Had she hit him? She couldn't tell. The boy was still coming. She tossed the gun away and raised her knife, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. The boy raised his knife as he came close.

But then he dove for her legs.

Rick Clifton, 19

He dove for her legs.

Rick grunted as he tackled the girl as hard as he could, dragging both of them to the ground, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel blood trickling down his side from where the bullet had struck. He didn't dare look down to see how much blood there was. He had to focus. Had to think.

They hit the ground hard. She hadn't expected that, but she also hadn't, as he had hoped, dropped her weapon. The blow was wild, slicing into his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed her wrist with his free hand, bringing his own knife down with the other. She squirmed to the right, and his knife thunked into the ground. She was fast. And she was bigger than the boy he'd fought at the start of the Games.

And she had a weapon.

Liv Holle, 18

She had another weapon.

Liv made a show of trying to free her right hand, hoping the boy wouldn't notice she was reaching for her other pocket, where she still had another knife. The wind whipped at her jacket as she fumbled in the dark, trying to find her pocket. Maybe she should have just tucked the weapon up her sleeve, but would it have just fallen out? Had it just fallen out?

No. No, it was there. She could feel it. She pulled it from her pocket as quickly as she could and thrust it into the boy's side. He screamed in pain, but didn't release her other hand. Instead, he drove his own knife into her shoulder, leaving it there as he reached for the knife in his side. She yanked it out just as a wave of water hit them, sweeping the headlamp away and sending them tumbling in the dark.

Tumbling in the direction the boy had come from.

Kiara Moore, 15

They were rolling the other way.

Kiara clenched her fists as she staggered towards the dark figures in the distance. There were three of them – she could tell that much. All injured. All bleeding. Maybe she could just wait – wait for them to kill each other. That would be the smart move. But that wasn't what she had told Fae. She had told Fae to wait – but only until the other contestants made a mistake. Then it would be time to make their move.

Her move. Fae was gone. Fae was dead. It was just her now. It was up to her to make a move, because while the other three were all injured, she could tell that the two who were fighting hadn't hurt each other fatally yet. They were bleeding, but not enough. If one of them did manage to kill the other, the other one would still be there, facing her, with a weapon. A weapon she didn't have. And the other contestant…

The other contestant was Henry. It had to be. The injuries were the same as she had sensed before, but worsened now. Their arm was badly infected, and they must have managed to hit it again, because the break was worse than before. But they were still alive. And she couldn't be sure they would die before she would if she found herself in a fight with one of the other two.

So she had to think. They both probably had weapons if they'd hurt each other that badly. Not just punches and bruises – they were both bleeding from stab wounds. And there was something else.

Kiara stopped as her foot brushed against something on the ground. She reached down and picked up a gun. Were there any bullets left? Probably not, if one of them had dropped the weapon in the first place. Carefully, Kiara pointed the gun at the rolling figures and pulled the trigger.

Nothing. But metal was metal, and she could probably hit someone with it harder than she could with a rock. That wasn't much, but it was something.

And they still didn't know she was there.

Rick Clifton, 19

He didn't even know if Henry was still alive.

Rick rolled over again in the dark, letting the momentum carry him closer and closer to where Henry still lay inside their golem. The golem was still there, but did that mean Henry was still alive? It had kept walking while they were asleep and not giving it instructions; did that mean that it would last for a while if Henry died? Rick hoped not. He hoped Henry was still alive, because that meant they might be able to do something to help him.

But he couldn't count on it. Right now, the golem showed no sign of movement, and rolling across the ground only made the pain worse. He was bleeding, but so was the girl. In the dark and the rain, it was hard to tell how much of the wetness was blood and how much was water, so he didn't know how badly he'd hurt her, but as the knife came at him again, she seemed to be moving slower. Maybe she was just dazed and dizzy from rolling around on the ground. Or maybe she was losing blood.

But so was he. He managed to dodge the knife, but his fingers felt clumsy as he reached for the second one in his pocket. He pulled it out, but as he did, the girl rolled again, and the knife slipped from his fingers. He made a grab for it, but the two of them had already rolled too far away. His other knife was still buried in her shoulder. Rick reached for it, but she rolled out of the way. Rick clenched his fists and swung. His fist connected with her side, and there was a grunt as she took a swipe at him with one of the knives. He dodged, but barely – and couldn't dodge the second one as it slashed across his arm. Rick gasped for breath in the pouring rain and made another grab for the knife in her shoulder. This time, his fingers closed around it.

He pulled.

Liv Holle, 18

The boy pulled the knife out.

Liv couldn't help a scream as pain shot through her shoulder, but she didn't have time to think, because the knife was moving again – this time towards her throat. Another flash of lightning lit the night, and Liv was surprised to see that his other hand was empty. Hadn't he had two knives?

Had he dropped the other one?

Kiara Moore, 15

He'd dropped the knife.

Kiara raced forward in the dark, grasping at the blade on the ground. The last flash of lightning had lit the area just long enough for her to be sure. Her hand closed around it, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had a weapon. A real weapon. She tucked the gun in her pocket, just in case. There was always a chance she might find some bullets later, if the Games lasted long enough. Or maybe just the thought that she had a gun would be enough to make another contestant think twice about attacking. It might be enough to give her an edge.

An edge. That was all she had now. Neither of the fighters knew she was there – or at least, neither of them seemed to have noticed her in the dark and the rain that was quickly turning to hail again. She could choose her moment. She could choose her target.

And she couldn't forget about Henry. They were still there – and alive. And the two figures had rolled closer to them in the dark. Did they know Henry was there? Maybe. Maybe not. In the dark, she still couldn't tell who either of the other contestants was, but it probably didn't matter. Henry had been alone the last time she'd seen them, and the chances of that having changed seemed slim. Who would want to work with someone who'd been hurt so badly? And Henry certainly wouldn't be willing to trust any of the other contestants.

After all, they hadn't trusted her.

Kiara shook the thought from her head as she crept closer. If Henry was conscious, they were probably just biding their time and waiting for the fight to resolve itself, figuring it would be easier to deal with the survivors. And that made sense in their position. But not in hers. She had a weapon now. She could make her move.

She just had to wait for the right moment.

Henry Helstrom, 14

They would just have to wait.

Henry's eyes blinked open as another wave of pain brought them around again. Hail was pounding on the golem again – and from the feel of it, it was either bigger or harder than last time. Or maybe the golem was just weaker than it had been earlier. Henry certainly felt weaker. Everything was spinning even though they were certain they were lying perfectly still.

A flash of lightning briefly lit the night, and they could see two figures nearby, rolling on the ground, each trying to get the upper hand. Rick. One of them was Rick, but Henry couldn't be sure who they were fighting.

Not that it mattered. Not that there was anything they could do about it. Even if they weren't using their concentration to hold the golem around them together, if they made another one and it started smashing into the fight, there was just as good a chance of it hitting Rick as hitting the other contestant. They were too close together. Maybe if Henry could see properly…

But they couldn't. It was too dark. Too wet. Too cold. They couldn't concentrate. Couldn't think. They would have to wait a moment. Just a moment. Long enough to get their bearings.

They would just have to hope Rick could last that long.

Kiara Moore, 15

She would just have to hope this was the right choice.

Kiara gripped the knife tightly, crouching in the dark, waiting. Choosing her target. She would only get one chance at this, and she couldn't fight both of them at once. But if she could finish one of them off quickly, she might be able to handle the other. And she had a better chance of handling the one who was hurt worse – the one who had a worse injury she could bring back at full strength, if only she got the chance.

First things first.

The pair were still rolling, but they were slowing down. Both of them were hurt. Both of them were getting tired. But one of them had their back to her. A better target. Kiara took a deep breath and raced forward, landing on the contestant's back and wrapping her arm around the older girl's throat.

Liv Holle, 18

There was something around her neck.

Liv flailed wildly in the dark, thrashing as the other contestant held on. Then something plunged into her neck, and pain surged through her. Liv's hand flew to her throat as the pressure on her back was released. Blood. Pouring down her neck. It wasn't fair. She hadn't even seen the other contestant. Just the boy and the rock creature he'd been with. She hadn't seen anyone else.

Over the sound of the rain, Liv could barely hear her own gasping breaths. Gurgling. Coughing. Neither of the other contestants even seemed to notice. They were focused on each other now. Tears stung Liv's eyes as she stared out into the fading darkness.

It wasn't fair.

Rick Clifton, 19

It didn't seem fair.

Rick gripped his knife as he struggled to his feet, eyeing the younger girl who was scrambling off his opponent's body. She'd come out of nowhere. That could just as easily have been him bleeding out on the ground, but she'd picked the other girl instead. Now it was the two of them. Well, the two of them and Henry. Well, the two of them and Henry and whoever else might be out there. There was no telling if there were more where she had come from.

But if she had been working with someone else, wouldn't they have attacked when she had, while they had the element of surprise? Of course, if there was someone else still out there in the dark, they did still have the element of surprise. Another flash lit the night, and Rick's eyes darted around the nearby trees.

That was a mistake, because the girl used that moment to charge.

Kiara Moore, 15

She didn't have time to think.

Kiara dove towards the boy as quickly as she could. She didn't think. If she stopped to think, she knew, she would have to think about the fact that he was older, bigger, probably stronger than her. She was armed, but so was he. But she had an advantage that he didn't – or at least, that he probably didn't.

She just had to get close enough to touch him.

The boy dodged her first blow, but didn't even think twice about letting her grab hold of his arm as he swung his knife. Kiara gripped his arm firmly and concentrated.

It wasn't hard to find the injury. It was fresh – maybe a week ago, at the most, and not yet fully healed. Fire. The boy screamed as fresh burns appeared on his arm, his shoulder, the side of his neck. Painful, but not enough to kill him.

She would have to do that herself.

Rick Clifton, 19

He had to hold on.

Rick caught the girl's hand in his as the knife came towards his neck. He was strong enough to hold her off for now, but the pain was almost too much. The first time, it had made him black out. He couldn't afford to do that now. If he blacked out, he was dead. If he lost his grip for a moment, he was dead.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to call for Henry to do something. But what good would that do? Henry couldn't hear him. Screaming for help would only give away the fact that there was someone there who might be able to help him. And screaming was a waste of energy. Energy he couldn't afford to waste.

Rick gasped for breath as the pain coursed through his shoulder. Hail was pounding down now – hard and heavy and rough. The first time, there had been snow, and that had been at least somewhat soothing. This was different. This was worse.

How much longer could he hold on?

Henry Helstrom, 14

How much longer could Rick hold on?

Henry clenched their teeth, trying to focus. Kiara. A flash of lightning had been enough for them to recognize her. And they knew what that meant. In the dark, they couldn't see the injury Kiara had brought back, but they could imagine it. Rick had been burned – he'd told them that when they'd first met. How long could he handle the full force of that injury being brought back?

But what could they do about it? If they dropped their control over this golem to make another one, Kiara would simply come after them instead, and Rick probably wouldn't be in any position to stop her. Then they would both die, unless Henry managed to kill her quickly with the golem, which didn't seem likely. They weren't at all certain they'd be able to control it well, and she'd had time during training to learn how to dodge the golems. All she needed was a moment to touch Henry, and it would be over.

But–

But maybe–

Henry took a deep breath. It might work. It would mean letting go of this golem, but–

But they didn't have a choice.

Kiara Moore, 15

They must have decided this was their chance.

Kiara gripped the boy's wrist tighter as a flash lit the area, and she caught a glimpse of the golem nearby – melting. It was tempting – oh, it was tempting – to rush towards Henry and take them out as quickly as she could. But that had to be what they were counting on. That would make them an easier target. A closer target. Close enough to hit with the golem they could probably still form pretty quickly in the time it took her to reach them.

No, as long as she was still here, close to the boy, then they would have a harder time hitting her. Or at least, they would have a harder time hitting specifically her. If they hit the boy and took him out for her, all the better.

But there wasn't a golem attacking them. So maybe she was wrong. Maybe Henry wasn't going to attack at all. Maybe the golem had simply melted because they'd finally lost control over it – or lost consciousness entirely.

Flash. Too late, she saw the rocky ground shifting around her. Rising towards her. Too late, she realized what Henry meant to do.

Then the golem was around her.

Henry Helstrom, 14

They squeezed as hard as they could.

Henry clenched their fist tightly, holding their breath, focusing. Focusing. Rick fell out of Kiara's grasp. She'd let go. Her hands – the one part they hadn't managed to encircle with the golem – went limp. Rick scrambled out of the way as the golem melted and Kiara's body fell to the ground beside him. Henry saw him try to get up, collapse, then try again, unsuccessfully. Finally, Rick got to his hands and knees and scrambled over to Henry, his mouth moving quickly. Henry relaxed their grip. They had no idea what Rick was saying. No idea what was going to happen next.

But here and now, they were alive.

Rick Clifton, 19

They were alive.

Rick gasped for breath, clutching his shoulder, trying to find something to shield the two of them from the thickening hail, trying to put that image out of his mind. The look on the girl's face as she'd realized what was happening. The crunch of bones as the golem had crushed her. The way her body had tumbled to the ground, lifeless, unrecognizable except for the hands, which hadn't been inside the golem.

Rick fought back the urge to vomit then and there. The girl was dead. She'd been trying to kill him, so Henry had killed her. And now they were alive. They were both alive. But that wouldn't be true for long unless they did something about their injuries. What did he still have in his pack? Henry probably wasn't coherent enough at the moment to make another golem to keep the hail off. Think.

He couldn't think. He was too tired. There was too much pain. He collapsed beside Henry, who was watching him almost curiously, as if amused that Rick was still frantically trying to figure out what to do next. Henry held out their good hand, and Rick took it, squeezing as hard as he could. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out." He knew Henry couldn't hear him, but it felt good to say it out loud, even if he didn't sound as confident as he'd hoped.

"Hey." Henry's voice was barely audible above the pounding of the hail. "We really … really rocked that, huh?"

Rick laughed. There was nothing else he could do. It wasn't funny. Not really. It was horrible. But everything was so fuzzy right now. So hectic. And Henry–

Henry was smiling. And looking at the sky.

Rick followed Henry's gaze. Something was falling out of the sky. Something besides the hail. Two parachutes were drifting towards the ground. Well, drifting was probably a bit too generous, Rick realized. The parachutes were slowing their fall, but not completely. Whoever it was, they landed with a crash and a lot of swearing about twenty feet away. Rick watched blearily as the two figures – the two people – stumbled towards him and Henry. One of them quickly started setting up something above them – some sort of makeshift tent. The other took one look at Henry and swore again. "No time for that, Alvin. We have to get them back."

Back.

They were going to take them back.

Rick gripped Henry's hand tightly as his pain-addled brain finally put it together. They were going to take them back. That meant they had won.

They were going to live.

They were both going to live.

Dr. Anita Donohue, 35

They both had to live.

Anita took a deep breath, focusing. They both had to live. That was her job. After a second, she nodded to Alvin, who continued setting up the tent. Even if Judah managed to land the helicopter, they would need something to keep the hail off them in the meantime. After checking for spinal injuries, she and Alvin carefully lifted Henry and Rick onto a pair of thin mats they had brought with them. Anita tapped her communicator. "Judah, are you certain you can't land?"

"Oh, I can land." Judah's voice was tense. "That's not the problem. The problem is whether this chopper will be in any condition to take off again after I do. I thought you brought what you needed."

"I have what I need for field medicine, not surgery." There had been no way to parachute down with the sort of equipment she really needed – and no way to make this area sterile enough for her liking. She was a doctor, not a magician, and she'd been hoping that Kiara might be one of the survivors. Kiara would have made her job easy.

But the MAAB hadn't brought her here to do an easy job. She knelt down to get a closer look at Henry's arm. "Damn."

"Bad?" Alvin asked.

"Bad," Anita agreed, quickly injecting Henry with a sedative. They had already passed out, but the pain might bring them around. She handed a second syringe to Alvin. "Okay, here we go. Sedate Rick, then clean those burns and bandage them."

Alvin took the syringe, but then hesitated. Anita glared. "I'm in charge, remember. You follow instructions. No fuss."

"You're in charge of medicine," Alvin reminded her. "Judah's in charge of flying."

Anita nodded as she put the pieces together. "Okay. Worth a try. Do it."

She fastened a tourniquet around Henry's upper arm as Alvin knelt beside Rick. "Rick?" Alvin asked. "Rick, can you hear me? I know it's hard to focus, but can you do anything about the weather? Judah needs to be able to land if we're going to get out of here."

Rick groaned softly, but nothing seemed to be happening. Of course it wasn't. He was too out of it. He was in too much pain.

"Wrong approach, Alvin." Judah's voice cut through the sound of the hail. "Let me talk to him." Alvin placed his communicator on the mat by Rick's ear as he started cleaning Rick's shoulder. "Rick. You need to focus. Your friend's life could depend on it."

"Can't … stop it."

"You don't need to stop it, kid."

"Not…" Rick muttered. Then, a little stronger, "Not … a kid."

Judah actually chuckled, but quickly covered it up. "Right, then, soldier! Who the hell said anything about stopping it? You just need to nudge it – that's all. Just an edge – that's all I need. And I need it now. Because in … sixty seconds, I'm going to land this bird. Whether or not it takes off again – that's up to you. Now focus."

"I–"

"Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight."

Anita glanced at Alvin, who shrugged. "He's in charge of flying."

Anita shook her head, doing her best to clean the area she needed to work on as Judah's voice counted down in the background. The hail was still thumping down, but it did seem to be a little smaller, a little lighter than before. She wondered if that would be enough.

Three. Two. One.

Colonel Judah Burgess, 52

It wasn't a perfect landing.

Judah finally relaxed his grip on the controls as the helicopter touched down, far enough away from the others to be safe, but hopefully close enough for them to be able to get the contestants to safety without getting too much hail on them. The hail was smaller – at least a little. Maybe it wasn't as much as he'd hoped for, but it had been all he'd needed. The helicopter was still in one piece – and so was he.

And so were the contestants, he could see as he made his way towards them. Maybe not a pretty piece, but they were both alive. Judah clapped a hand on Rick's good shoulder as they loaded him into the back of the helicopter. "Not bad, Rick. Just keep it up til I can get us in the air, and then they can knock you out."

"Henry," Rick muttered. "How's … Henry?"

"Ask the doctor," Judah suggested, settling into his seat again.

"They'll live, thanks to you," Anita answered. Vague, but honest. "And thanks to you, Judah," she added once he'd taken off and she'd sedated Rick. "I owe you one. I didn't really want to have to amputate in those conditions."

"Are you sure that's necessary?" Stupid thing to ask, he knew as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course she was sure. That was her job. His job was to fly the helicopter.

"Yes. The golem holding their arm that tightly kept them from bleeding to death in the first place, but it also cut off most of the blood flow. Sort of like I'm doing now with this tourniquet, except it was there for too long. Days. There's too much dead tissue now. I'm sorry, but–"

Judah cut her off. "You don't have to apologize. Nothing you could have done differently. Let's just get you back – and get them back alive." He shook his head.

"Then we can worry about the rest."

"You said that destroying my brother is the only way to survive. Is that all there is for us, mere survival?"