Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.

Note: And here we go! Just a couple housekeeping things before we get started.

Congratulations to Florence, Emery, and Henry, who won the sponsor poll and will be receiving a gift at some point during the Games, provided they survive this chapter. There's a new poll up, this time asking which alliances are your favorite. Read the chapter first, though, because there is a bit of shifting taking place as the Games begin.

The website has been updated with an arena map, which will be expanded as necessary as the tributes continue to spread out. Read the chapter before checking it out, though, because if someone dies, you won't be able to find them on the map. The tribute page will also be updated with the most recent state of alliances, kills, deaths, etc. There's also a page for keeping track of which alliances have what supplies. (Really, that's as much for my reference as for yours, as I keep meaning to do this with SYOTs so that I'm not constantly rereading what I've written to remember who has what.)

And that's it. Let the 2nd Annual X-Games begin!

Death

Penelope – 098, 13
March 20th, 08:47 MST

How many of them would be dead soon?

Penelope watched silently as the contestants filed into the room. It wasn't a very large room, but it didn't have to be. They probably wouldn't be there long at all. The room was circular, with thirty-one doors lining the walls. They were evenly spaced, except in three spots. One was the door she had entered through earlier, the same one the contestants were filing through now. In the other two spots, a door seemed to have been hastily added in between two of the evenly-spaced ones. Probably because they had added two extra contestants a matter of days ago.

Sure enough, as she glanced above each of the doors, she could see a letter and numbers that coincided with those on the contestants' collars. They were in order around the room: her contestants, then Ian's, then Maria's, and then Vincent's. Still separated into groups, just like the MAAB had tried to do with the colors of their clothes. Sure enough, as the contestants filed in, they were still color-coded. But the colors were now darker, more muted versions, probably for the purposes of allowing them to blend in.

Blend in to what, though? She wasn't sure exactly where they were. The room had no windows, and neither had the bedroom she had come from. Breakfast had been provided there in her room, and she could only guess the same had been available to the others. At least they weren't sending the contestants into the Games hungry. Warm clothes had also been provided. Each of the contestants wore a thick pair of boots, wool socks, thick pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket over it. The only thing missing were hats and gloves, and they would be all set for winter.

Well, except Frederick. He still had gloves, but that was probably for the best. Nobody wanted him turning everything in sight into goo. Sure enough, no one made a move to take them from him. Nicholas, Judah, and Alvin stood in the center of the room along with the coaches, watching as the contestants took their places by the doors. A few of them tried the handles, but the doors wouldn't open.

Not yet.

Not yet, but soon. Soon, the Games would start, and some of these contestants – some of these kids – would be dead. If last year was anything to go by, it wouldn't take long for things to get going. Last year, seven contestants had been killed in the first twenty-four hours of the Games. She had killed one of them herself. How many of this year's contestants would die today?

Not that it really mattered when they died, she reminded herself. Last year, one of her allies, Rachel, had been killed the first day. But the boy she had electrocuted at the end of the Games was just as dead. He had lived a few days longer; that was all. In a way, maybe Rachel had been the lucky one.

But not luckier than her. She had survived, and two of the contestants in this room would be able to say the same at the end of the Games. That was all that mattered. Who died first, who died last … None of that was really important, was it? All that mattered was who lived.

"In a few moments, at my signal, the doors will open," Nicholas explained after allowing a few more frustrated attempts to open the doors. "A few instructions first."

"Thought there was only one instruction," Alphonso mumbled. "Kill or be killed."

"Indeed," Nicholas agreed. "I meant a few instructions about how the Games will begin. These doors will shut behind you immediately, and you will not be able to get back in this room. As you may or may not have figured out, we are currently underground. Each door leads to a tunnel that will lead you to the surface. Once you are out of the tunnel – and only once you are completely out of the tunnel – your collar will be deactivated, and you will be free to use your powers. If at any point you reenter the tunnel, your collars will automatically activate again. Just to be clear, this room will be sealed, and this is not where the MAAB will be located for the duration of the Games anyway, so don't bother trying to get back in."

Penelope raised an eyebrow. Without that instruction, would any of them have even thought of coming back to the tunnels in the first place? She had certainly never thought of trying to find where the MAAB were located during her own Games. What would have been the point? If they had thought she was coming after them, they could always have turned her collar off. But now that Nicholas had mentioned the possibility…

Maybe he was baiting them. Daring them to try coming back down here at some point. But what purpose would that serve? There was nothing useful in this room, except maybe that it provided shelter from the weather. That could be useful in a pinch, but anything dangerous enough to take shelter from could probably collapse the tunnels anyway.

"Any questions?" Nicholas asked. When none were forthcoming, he turned to the four coaches. "Any words of advice?"

"Get a good look at where your teammates are positioned now," Maria answered immediately. "Unless the tunnels criss-cross considerably, you'll probably be in similar positions when you surface. That'll give you some idea of where your allies are."

"And where the other contestants are," Penelope added. "If there's someone you're trying to find, or someone you're trying to avoid, figure out now where they're going to be." That, of course, was a double-edged sword, she knew as she watched the contestants glance around the room. If there was anyone who was planning on attacking someone else immediately, looking in their direction could give the game away, if they happened to be looking, as well. She caught a few stray glances from a few of the contestants – some looking for threats, some for easy prey.

"Rest when you can," Ian advised. "Remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. If you have the opportunity to rest somewhere safe, take it – even if you don't feel like you need rest. If you find something to eat or drink, take advantage of that – even if you're not particularly hungry or thirsty. You never know when your next meal or next chance to sleep safely might be. Take advantage of it when you can."

Ian gave Vincent's hand a squeeze, wordlessly indicating that he was finished. If any of the contestants noticed, they said nothing. They had bigger things to worry about right now. "Trust your instincts," Vincent offered, glancing around the group. "Trust yourself. And trust your gut when it comes to anyone else. Even if you've got what you think is a solid group now, those groups are going to shift as contestants leave, or join, or die. Do what you think will work for you, and the rest will follow."

Nicholas nodded. "All right. The doors will open on the count of ten. Ten. Nine. Eight."

Hands reached for the door handles. Limbs braced, ready to run as soon as the doors swung open. A few eyes darted across the room, catching one last glance of a teammate before both of them disappeared into the tunnels. The seconds seemed to drag on forever.

And then it was too late. Too late, Penelope heard what Alannah whispered to Joseph, and saw him nod. Too late, she saw Vi freeze, trying to pretend he hadn't heard them. What she would have done if she'd had more time, Penelope wasn't sure, but it was too late. Nicholas finished counting down. A bell rang. The doors opened. It was over.

But it had also just begun.

Coburn Hughes, 17

It had really begun.

Coburn gasped for breath as he raced through the tunnel. It was wide at first, but narrowed as it started to climb upwards. Soon, he was on his hands and knees, pressing onward as fast as he could. He could see light up ahead. Sunlight. The end of the tunnel. His fingers grasped at the surface, reaching up into the open air. He pulled himself out of the tunnel and finally got a good look around.

Rocks. There were lots of rocks. A bit of brown shrubbery, too, but mostly rocks. Coburn scooped one up, just in case, but no one else was on their feet yet, either. A few heads poked out of the tunnels as he scrambled to his knees, and then his feet. Mountain peaks rose in the distance almost every direction. He could see trees on the lower slopes of some of the mountains. The air was crisp and cold, but not unbearably so. Still, the warm clothes would be welcome at night.

And so would fire. For the first time, his power might actually be useful. Coburn shook the thought from his head as he caught sight of what else was nearby. In the center of the circle of contestants, most of whom were starting to emerge from the tunnels, lay a pile of backpacks. Some were large, some small, all a dull brownish-grey. Coburn's gaze flew to where he knew Savannah and Lilith were – directly across the circle with the rest of the red group.

Run. Coburn took off across the circle, snatching up two of the smaller backpacks along the way, dropping the rock as he ran. He didn't need it. No one came after him. Savannah and Lilith were on their feet by the time he reached them. "Go!" he shouted, and they did, racing away from the circle of contestants, most of whom had probably made their way out of the tunnels by now.

He didn't look back to check. None of them did. No point, really. He didn't need to worry about any of the others. They didn't even really need to worry about where they were going – not yet, at least. Away. They were getting away. Right now, that was enough.

Then they could worry about the rest.

Liv Holle, 18

She could worry about the rest later.

Liv raced towards the center of the circle, towards the heap of backpacks. Whatever was in the bags, it could be useful. But more than that, it would draw some of the others in. It would give her a chance to make a move – exactly what she had told her teammates they should do. If she started fighting, they would follow. They just needed a reason. Or maybe an excuse.

Maybe they were the same thing.

Liv scooped up one of the backpacks, and was surprised by the weight. No one had said anything about what might be in here. Hell, no one had even said there would be backpacks. There was certainly no time to stop and figure out what it was – not with a girl in blue rushing in her direction, reaching for a bag next to her.

Liv didn't think. She swung. The bag struck the other girl squarely in the chest, and she went down. There was an awful crack as her head struck one of the rocks. Almost immediately, however, Liv staggered backwards, her own head aching, her chest burning with pain. She glanced down quickly, then ran a hand through her hair. Nothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another contestant – this one in purple – hurrying in her direction. "Lea!" they called out to the girl on the ground. "Get up!"

Lea didn't make a move to get up, but she was still breathing. That would have to wait, though. A boy in yellow was also running in their direction. Liv glanced around for her teammates. She could see Ansel fighting a girl in yellow for a backpack, but he didn't seem to be getting the better of that fight. And Lee and Elena were—

Running away, she realized. They had each grabbed a bag and were already headed away from the fighting, without even a second glance. And she was outnumbered. She recognized the other contestants now – the ones who had said they wouldn't fight. But three against one, she wasn't exactly about to press her luck. "Ansel!" she called, waving him in the direction Elena and Lee were already running. "Let's get out of here!"

Ansel let go of the bag and took off immediately. For a moment, it looked like the girl might chase after him, but something apparently changed her mind. Liv hurried after him, barely glancing back at the two contestants who were already helping Lea to her feet. They would have to wait until later. There would be plenty of time.

But she couldn't help the feeling that she'd missed a good chance.

Marcus Del Rio, 19

At least he'd had a chance to grab something.

Marcus grinned over at Manaka as the pair of them ran. They'd been on opposite sides of the circle, but that hadn't really mattered – not once their collars had been turned off. He'd made it out of the tunnels before Manaka, so he'd sprinted over to Manaka's side of the circle, grabbing a pair of medium-sized backpacks and tossing one to the younger boy.

There was a shout coming from somewhere behind him. Marcus' stomach churned. Yes, they would have to fight, but that didn't mean he wanted to fight twenty-eight other contestants at once. That was probably why the MAAB had piled the backpacks in the middle, after all – to draw everyone in so they would start to fight over the supplies that were hopefully in the bags.

From the sound of things, it had worked pretty well. Oh, it wouldn't draw everyone in, but they didn't need everyone to start fighting – just enough of them to make a scene. Enough to give them a good show, which was what they really cared about. But there would be enough time for that later, once he and Manaka had put some distance between themselves and the other contestants. Like Ian had said, this was a marathon, not a sprint.

Manaka pointed towards some water in the distance. "That way, maybe?" he suggested helpfully as the two of them slowed down a little. He couldn't hear the screams from the circle anymore, and the water seemed like as good a place as any to stop and catch their breaths for a moment. Marcus nodded, and the pair of them picked up the pace again, just long enough to reach the water.

It was a small lake, but it would do. Manaka cupped his hands and took a good, long drink. Ian had also suggested that they take advantage of any opportunity to eat or drink, even if they didn't particularly need it at the moment. Sure, Ian wasn't technically his coach – or Manaka's – but that didn't really matter now. Their coaches weren't in the Games; they were.

And they needed all the good advice they could get.

Alphonso Bell-Garcia, 15

The bags probably didn't have what they really needed, anyway.

"Let's go!" Alphonso called to Seb immediately as the two of them emerged from the tunnels. Sure, there was a pile of bags in the center of the circle, but there was no telling what might be in them. All Seb really needed was something to write with, and something to write on, and he could produce anything they needed anyway.

But they weren't likely to find anything here. He could write with his finger in a pinch, but the rocky ground wasn't good for writing. And besides, would he really have time to kneel down and write something before someone attacked him? Every single one of the other contestants had seen what Seb could do. That made him a target, even – and maybe especially – if he didn't have a pen in his hand. Their best bet was to get out of there.

"What about Frederick?" Seb asked, panic in his voice as some of the other contestants began to rush towards the middle of the circle.

Alphonso shook his head. Frederick had been on the other side of the circle, and there was no telling how long it might take him to make his way out of the tunnels. "He'll catch up later. Let's go."

That did it. Seb opened his mouth, maybe to ask how Frederick was going to find them later if they just took off. But he thought better of it. Or, more accurately, Alphonso's words made him think better of it. Sure, Frederick was useful, but given the choice between the two of them, Alphonso would rather be stuck with Seb. Alphonso took off, and Seb followed behind him.

He didn't have a choice.

Frederick Bouvy, 17

He had to make a choice.

Frederick watched as Alphonso and Seb raced away from the circle, leaving him on his own. Well, maybe not exactly on his own; Sybil had offered him an alliance, after all. But the idea had been that he could take out Alphonso, and work with Seb and Sybil until Seb wasn't needed anymore. If they left him now…

If they left him. That was what was really bothering him, if he was honest. He had been planning to leave Alphonso, but the younger boy apparently had no problem with leaving him first, which might mean that he was already suspicious and wanted to ditch the extra weight. Maybe if he proved he wasn't just extra weight…

Frederick raced towards the middle of the circle, scooping up a backpack and flinging it over his shoulder before taking off one of his gloves. He just needed to touch someone – that was all. Just touch someone and run away. His power would do the rest.

There was a girl in purple nearby, reaching down to pick up a bag. Okay. Frederick raced in her direction, but that movement caught her eye, and she took a step back, away from his outstretched hand. Suddenly, something was wrapped around his hand. Something black and soft and thin – and something that wasn't turning to goo, because it wasn't really an object. It was a shadow.

Frederick shook his hand, trying to get the shadow off, while the girl took another few steps back, trying desperately to keep her shadow under control, keep it wrapped around his hand. Frederick brought his other hand to his mouth, pulling the glove off with his teeth. She couldn't trap both of his hands, could she?

Something wrapped around his waist. An arm. Of course the girl hadn't been alone. Shit. The girl behind him twisted unnaturally, avoiding his hand as he reached behind his back, trying to touch her. He just needed to touch her once.

That was all it would take.

Evelyn Hong, 17

All it would take was one touch.

Evelyn danced out of the way as Frederick reached down, making a move to touch her arm, which had been wrapped around his waist. She had been trying to snatch a bag from one of the boys in yellow – Ansel, apparently – but his teammate had called him away from the fight. She'd thought about chasing him, but then she had seen Makenzie.

Makenzie had actually been doing pretty well, but she couldn't have held the boy off forever, and she didn't want to attack. Evelyn ducked beneath the boy's hand – and then kept ducking, more and more compressed, until she fit between his legs. The boy lunged at her, and she gave a kick upwards, directly to his groin. His hand brushed across her boot, which instantly began to melt. Damn. That was too close.

But the boy was toppling over, one hand still wrapped in Makenzie's shadow, the other flailing wildly, trying to keep his balance. Makenzie's shadow gave a tug, and he toppled to the ground. Evelyn reached for the first thing she could find – a rock – and scooped it up, striking the boy in the head. Blood dripped from the wound as he lashed out, grabbing at her head. He caught her ponytail and yanked.

Goo. There was goo all over, but it took Evelyn a moment to realize why she was still alive. The boy had grabbed her hair. Her hair had melted, but not her head. Just like the floor had melted during training, not the whole building.

Huh.

The boy grunted in frustration as Evelyn darted back out of the way. He reached down to try to pry the shadow off his hand. That was a mistake. Makenzie had been watching, waiting for the right moment, and the shadow stretched just enough to encompass the other hand, too. Evelyn lunged, her rock connecting squarely with the boy's jaw, then his temple. He kicked, trying to squirm away, but Makenzie's shadow held fast.

Until it didn't.

Makenzie Norwood, 16

She didn't know what hit her.

Makenzie gasped for breath – or at least, tried to. The hands around her throat were gripping harder, squeezing tighter, and she was certain she'd lost control of the shadow. Her hands flew to her neck, trying to pry the fingers away, but she could feel the weight pulling her backwards, dragging her to the ground. She hit the rocks hard, and a pair of legs wrapped around her waist, holding her fast as the hands continued to squeeze.

Out of the corner of her eye, Makenzie could see Evelyn, trying to make her way to help, but blocked by the boy, barely managing to avoid being turned into goo. But where were the others? Why hadn't they come to help?

Makenzie shuddered as everything began to go black. Maybe it was better if they didn't. Maybe it was better if they were somewhere else, somewhere safe. Even if they decided to try to help now, it was already too late.

Maybe it had always been too late.

Sybil Herveaux, 21

It was too late.

Sybil gasped for breath as the younger girl went limp in her arms. Frederick was still occupying the other girl, but that didn't account for everyone. The girls had had other allies, hadn't they? Where were they?

Just as Sybil was about to lunge towards Frederick to help him, however, something struck her from behind. But not a person – a bubble. A bubble that burst as soon as it struck her head, but that was enough to distract her. Sybil whirled around, but the girl who had hurled the bubble was already racing to help the girl who was fighting Frederick.

"What took you so long?" the other girl shouted, darting around Frederick, just avoiding his fingers. Her hair and jacket had already turned to goo, but he had yet to touch her skin. Sybil took a step back. She had already done her part; now it was his turn to do something, to prove he was worthy of their little partnership. After all, it wasn't that hard. All he had to do was touch them.

So why was it taking so long?

Sybil sighed and waved a hand. Maybe it wouldn't kill her to help a little. The new arrival, still out of breath, stumbled as starlight blocked her vision. "What the hell?" the other girl demanded, but Frederick was already lunging.

He lunged right into a bubble.

A bubble that didn't burst.

Kylena Albright, 16

The bubble didn't burst.

Kylena almost laughed. No, she was laughing, she realized as her vision became a little clearer. Whatever had been blocking it, it was starting to fade. Maybe whoever was controlling it couldn't maneuver it inside the bubble – the bubble that was shielding both her and Evelyn. Evelyn crossed her arms, glaring at the boy. "Care to try again? We can do this all day?"

That wasn't quite true, and Evelyn knew it, but the bluff worked. The boy, already bleeding from the gash on his head, took off running, reaching to adjust his backpack and then cursing as the strap turned to goo. He glanced briefly at the gloves on the ground by Evelyn's feet, but thought better of it and kept running, the backpack slipping from his shoulders as he ran. As soon as he stopped looking, the bubble burst. Kylena glanced around frantically for the girl who had attacked Makenzie, but she had apparently run off, as well.

Makenzie. Kylena raced to her friend's side, with Evelyn close behind, out of breath, out of hair, and missing one boot and her jacket, but somehow … grinning. Grinning, that was, until she saw that Makenzie wasn't breathing. "Shit," Evelyn muttered, feeling for breath, then feeling for a pulse.

"Try CPR," came a voice from behind them. Jaime. They'd grabbed a backpack, as had Lea and Elio.

Kylena nearly jumped, but Evelyn whirled on the other three. "Where were you? You were so busy collecting supplies, that goo-boy nearly killed me, and Makenzie..." She trailed off. "If you'd showed up sooner, we could have taken them. There were only two of them."

Elio was already kneeling beside Makenzie, starting CPR. Lea looked a bit unsteady on her feet, and her head was bleeding. Jaime was supporting her. They could transfer pain, but not dizziness or disorientation.

Kylena swallowed hard, glancing around frantically as Elio continued. Most of the other contestants were already heading in different directions, but there was no telling when one or two of them might decide the group of them just standing around looked like a tempting target. "We need to get out of here."

Lea turned, shocked. "But Makenzie—"

"She's dead." Kylena was surprised to hear herself say the words out loud, but it certainly looked like it was true. Makenzie wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. Elio was muttering something – probably a prayer – but what could he do for someone who was already dead?

Evelyn nodded. "Kylena's right. We have to go."

Lea shook her head, her eyes drawn to the blood on Evelyn's hands. "You go."

Kylena blinked. So that was it, then. She and Evelyn turned to leave, Evelyn scooping up the backpack she had dropped during the fight, but Jaime's voice stopped them. "Wait." They took a step towards Evelyn and Kylena. "You're right. We should have all fought together. We should have fought." They turned to Elio, who was still pumping away, trying to breathe life back into Makenzie. "I'm sorry."

Before Elio could say anything, there was a blood-curtling, ear-splitting scream in the distance. Kylena staggered back, her ears ringing a little. Evelyn turned to Elio and Lea. "We're going. Last chance."

Elio shook his head. "Not while there's still a chance I can save her."

But Kylena already knew there wasn't.

Kiara Moore, 15

She already knew she wasn't going to catch up.

Kiara picked up the pace as she raced after Henry, Iola, and Fae, who had taken off the moment they'd emerged from the tunnels, gesturing for her to join them. They didn't show any signs of slowing down anytime soon, but why? Why were they running so fast, unless—

The thought hit her just before the wolf did, coming out of nowhere, jaws digging into her arm as she held it up to shield her neck. Kiara toppled backwards, the wolf landing on top of her. "Help!" she screamed, wondering if any of the others were still close enough to hear. "Help me!"

The words tasted strange even as they came out. After all the times other people had come to her asking for help, were they really going to leave her now? Just because she happened to be on the other side of the circle, just because she'd happened to have a different coach and ended up in a different position?

Just as the wolf opened its mouth again, however, the weight was suddenly lifted from her chest. Someone – no, something – had scooped up the wolf and tossed it in the other direction. Henry. Or rather, one of their golems, large enough and strong enough to simply chuck the wolf out of the way. The golem, which was already carrying a pair of large backpacks, scooped up Kiara, moving faster than she could on her own, until she could finally see the rest of the group.

Then she saw the reason they had been running. The bat, larger than a normal bat, with large claws and fangs, swooping this way and that way, driving the group away from the circle, herding them together. Or trying to, at least. The golem that was carrying Kiara chucked a rock at the bat, which dodged easily. "It keeps going for Fae!" Iola shouted, swinging a small backpack at the bat as it dove lower again, maybe biding its time until the wolf could catch up.

It only took Kiara a moment to put it together – the reason a bat would want to eliminate a girl who could manipulate sounds. The golem drew close to Henry, Fae, and Iola as the bat swooped away, preparing for another pass. "Henry!" Kiara called. "Tell it to put me down!"

They did, and Kiara hurried to Iola, clutching her arm, which was still bleeding where the wolf had bitten her. "Mimic Fae, and stay with her. Henry can control the golem from a distance; they should get out of here. I'll go with them. Fae, once we're clear, and once the bat gets close enough, scream."

"But—"

"I'll be fine," Iola pointed out. "Kiara can heal me, but she can't heal herself." She turned to Kiara. "Go."

Henry looked like they were about to say something, but thought better of it. "Keep shielding them," they instructed the golem, and then took off with Kiara. Sure enough, the bat let them go, swooping lower even as the golem stepped protectively between the bat and Fae. Now two Faes, thanks to Iola's perfect mimicry.

She just hoped this worked.

Florence Roos, 114

Had they really thought that would work?

Florence gave another flap, which lifted her a bit higher in the air as the golem took another swing. None of this had gone as planned. As soon as she'd started to chase after Fae, the golem, which seemed to be made of solid rock, had materialized seemingly out of nowhere, shielding the little girl. For a few moments, it had disappeared, lumbering back in the direction of the circle, but now it was back. Sure, one of the younger contestants had made a figure out of the ground during the talent show, but it had been small. She'd had no idea they could do something like this.

If she had…

No. No, this could still work. She just needed to wait for Emery to catch up. Or Kenji, but she had a feeling he was long gone. He'd grabbed a backpack and taken off immediately after reaching the surface, probably banking on the fact that a wolf and a bat wouldn't be particularly hard to find, and thinking he wouldn't be much good in a fight. He didn't realize yet just how useful his power could be.

But there would be time for that later, once they accomplished what they'd set out to do here. Two of the four were already running, leaving the two who looked alike. Florence let them go. They were probably trying to get out of range of a scream. That was the idea – let the other two get away, then split up, and hope she went for the wrong one, and hope the other one was far enough away by the time she screamed.

It might have worked, too, if she was trying to fool a normal human. The mimic was a perfect copy of the younger girl – at least on the surface. But there were little things – her heartbeat, her breathing pattern, her smell – that weren't quite perfect. After only a moment, Florence had been able to tell which was which.

The question was what to do with that information. Once they split up, if she went after the real one, she would probably scream and hope her ally was out of range. If she went after the copy and killed her, the younger girl would have no reason not to scream anymore. What she really needed was for Emery to hurry up so that they could go after both of them. After all, the golem could only protect one.

Then she saw Emery as she circled. The wolf seemed a bit unsteady on her feet; maybe she'd run into a bit of trouble. But she was here now. Now they just had to get the two of them to split up. Florence picked up speed as she dove through the air, right in the middle of the two of them. But they didn't split up.

One of them screamed.

Emery Mullins, 15

The scream was almost deafening.

Emery flattened her ears against her head, trying to block out the sound. It didn't last long, but it hurt. She could still hear, but everything was ringing. It was disorienting as hell, but she didn't dare change back to human form – not with that rock monster this close. Her ribs still ached from when it had flung her to the ground earlier. It wasn't close enough to reach her quickly, but close enough to keep her from getting any closer without a good reason.

It only took her a moment, though, to realize that she had a good reason. Florence was falling, spiraling out of the sky. Emery tensed. She had probably flown up there to get away from the scream, but her gut said she hadn't gotten away fast enough. She was clearly trying to steer her course in Emery's direction, but her flying was wild and awkward. Emery raced forward, catching Florence in mid-air on her head and taking off immediately.

No one came after them. The other two were probably distracted. The older girl had reverted to her real form when the younger one had screamed, clutching her head and sinking to her knees. Emery picked up the pace, not really caring about which direction she was going. Away. That was where she was going.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Florence had said the girl wouldn't dare risk crippling her teammates by screaming while they were this close. But she had. It didn't make any sense.

She could feel Florence's claws digging into her fur, holding on tightly, probably wondering the same thing. Emery let out a howl, hoping that would be enough to draw Kenji in from wherever he had run off to. If Florence thought that was a bad idea, she didn't say anything. She probably hadn't heard it. Emery shook the thought from her head as she ran, the ground getting softer beneath her paws. They were probably nearing water, from the feel of it, but she didn't dare stop now.

She had to keep going.

Iola Boman, 19

They had to keep going.

Iola stumbled again as she and Fae made their way after Henry and Kiara. The golem lumbered along behind, and Iola had half a mind to tell the damn thing to pick them up. They could probably move faster that way. Whatever Fae had done, it hadn't just deafened her; it had made it nearly impossible to keep her balance. She was leaning heavily on Fae, who looked worried and was probably saying something, but Iola didn't want to slow down long enough to ask her to write out what. They had to keep moving.

Besides, as soon as they caught up with Kiara, she would be fine. That was why Fae had screamed, after all; she knew that Kiara could fix it. Her hearing, as well as whatever the hell was wrong with her sense of balance. Iola hissed sharply as she stumbled on another rock. She turned to the golem, shrinking back to Fae's size. "Can't you do something?" It was strange, not being able to hear her own voice, but she was certain the words had come out.

The golem simply plodded along in the direction Henry and Kiara had gone. Fae shook her head and said something. Maybe it would only do what Henry had instructed it to do, and they'd had no reason to think she would need to be carried out of there. Iola closed her eyes, fighting the dizziness that flooded back every time she took a step. All they had to do was get to Kiara.

Iola's stomach churned at the thought that they had nearly left her back at the circle. The bat and the wolf had come after them so quickly, they hadn't had time to meet up with her first, and she'd been all the way on the other side. She was just glad the golem had gotten to Kiara in time. If they'd lost her…

But they hadn't. She could fix this. They just had to get there.

It was only a matter of time.

Rick Clifton, 19

"You think it's time to do what?"

Rick shook his head as Vi repeated himself. "I think it's time we headed back."

"Didn't you hear that scream?" Rick asked. What was Vi getting at? Rick had grabbed a backpack as they'd run. What else was Vi hoping to find? But there had to be a reason, didn't there? He wouldn't suggest heading back towards the circle unless there was some reason for it.

Would he?

Vi shrugged, waving his hand. "The scream came from that direction. The circle's back that way."

The two directions looked awfully close to Rick. "Why?"

Vi hesitated a moment before answering. "I heard something. Two of the contestants, just before the doors opened. They said they'd be waiting in the tunnels until everything died down. Since it's starting to die down…"

Rick's stomach churned. "You think we can catch them before they make it out of the tunnels, while their collars are still on."

"Exactly."

Rick swallowed hard. It was a good plan. Maybe even a clever one. So why did it feel so … wrong? Vi had overheard the other contestants. Was that cheating? Was there even such a thing as cheating? No, of course not. There were no rules. Well, one rule: kill or be killed. And if he didn't want to be killed…

"Okay," he agreed at last, and the two of them headed back towards the circle. Rick was surprised by how quickly they arrived. They really hadn't gone that far at all. He'd been following Vi, who had made some turns along the way. Had he led Rick in a circle, just to come back here?

Vi glanced around the tunnels, searching for something. "Here," he said at last. "This one's mine. I kicked one of the rocks away before we started running."

Clever. "So which tunnels, then?"

"These two." Vi gestured to the pair of tunnels next to his – in the opposite direction from Rick's. Who had been standing there? Rick tried to remember, but it was all a bit of a blur. The circular room, the instructions … He hadn't realized he would need to remember any of it. Vi's tunnel had been close enough to his, and that had seemed like enough.

"I'll take this one," Vi offered, choosing a rock and climbing into the tunnel closer to his. "You take the other."

Take the other. Kill the other contestant – that was what Vi hadn't said. But it was what they had to do. Vi disappeared into the tunnel.

And a boy's head poked out of the other one.

Joseph Harris, 13

Maybe it was time to get a look around.

Joseph took a deep breath as the screams faded into the distance. There had been several shouts nearby, and a rather loud scream off in the distance, but everything seemed to have settled down now.

That was how it sounded, at least. There was always a chance there was still someone out there. But what reason would they have to stay around the tunnels? He had no idea what else was up there, but he'd certainly want to get as far away from the other contestants as he could, as quickly as he could.

But that wasn't what Alannah had wanted to do. She'd suggested that they stay hidden for a little while, wait for things to die down. She didn't want her power causing any panic right away. With thirty of the contestants in the same area, there was no telling what might happen. Some of them might have come after the two of them. No, it was safer this way. She had been right.

Joseph poked his head out of the tunnel. Instantly, he regretted it. There was a boy standing there, staring at him. Joseph's mind raced. Was this one of the contestants who was working alone, or were there others? He wasn't sure, but now the boy was moving towards him. Would he have time to get out of the tunnel, or should he go back down?

No. No, the man back in the room had said they wouldn't be able to get back in. If he went back down, he would be trapped, and the boy had a rock. Maybe it wasn't much in the way of weapons, but it was more than he had. Joseph glanced around for any rocks that looked like they might come loose, but there didn't seem to be any nearby.

As quickly as he could, Joseph clambered out of the tunnel. But just as he was scrambling to his feet, the older boy tackled him, his arms wrapping around Joseph's legs. Joseph kicked as hard as he could, but the boy didn't let go. At least he wasn't turning into goo or exploding or something. Whatever the other boy's power was, he was relying on his bare hands to do the work for him.

Not that there was much comfort in that, because he was already on top of Joseph. "Please!" Joseph's voice was shaky, pleading. "Please, just let me go. I won't hurt you. I wasn't going to hurt you. I—" Before Joseph could finish, a fist connected with his jaw, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Joseph reached up, trying to block the next blow, but the boy's other hand caught his arm, pinning it. The older boy's knee dug into Joseph's chest. "Alannah!" Joseph called, gasping for air. "Help!"

That was his only chance, really – that Alannah could scare the other boy off. But could she really make it out in time? She had probably been waiting for him to tell her that everything was clear. She could be deep down in the tunnel still.

He hoped she was. He hoped she was safe. Joseph's vision grew blurry as the boy's hand closed around his throat. Joseph managed to wriggle a hand free and grasp the boy's wrist, but a rock was in his other hand, hurtling down. Joseph closed his eyes, but that didn't stop the pain in his temple, sharp and thick and deep. It wasn't fair.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

Alannah Cavan, 12

She hadn't done anything to help.

Alannah stifled a sob as she sat in the dark at the end of the tunnel. She'd heard Joseph screaming, begging for her help, but she was still just sitting there, too scared to do anything to help him. By now, it was probably too late. It may even have been too late if she had raced through the tunnel the moment he'd shouted her name. There was still quite a bit of tunnel left, after all.

The worst part was, it was all her fault. She had been the one to suggest staying in the tunnels until the chaos died down. It had seemed like such a clever idea. What if our instincts say to run and hide? That was what she had asked Penelope less than twenty-four hours ago. Penelope had shrugged. At the start, sure, she had said. It had seemed like such good advice – certainly the advice she had wanted to hear.

Alannah buried her face in her hands. She had done everything right. She had trusted her instincts. But her instincts hadn't been good enough. If they had found Joseph, it was only a matter of time before—

"There you are." A voice in the dark, and certainly not Joseph's. This voice was older, and belonged to a darker shape amid the shadows of the tunnel. "Probably thought you were being clever, huh?"

Alannah swallowed hard. She had thought it was clever. "How did you know we were down here?"

"I heard you."

"I didn't make any noise!" Alannah insisted, her voice barely more than a squeak. She hadn't. She was sure of it.

"Not just now. At the start, when you told the other boy your plan."

Alannah's stomach churned. "You were standing next to me."

"Yeah."

"That's—" She cut herself off, not sure how that sentence should end. That's cheating. But how could it be cheating when there weren't any rules? "That's not fair," she said at last, softly.

The shadow was closer now. "I know."

Alannah took a step backwards, her back pressed against the door. Maybe if he got close enough, she could dart around him, or duck between his legs. Maybe—

The boy lunged. She ducked. Apparently, he'd been expecting that, because he shifted his weight and crashed headlong into her, his shoulder connecting with her stomach, driving her backwards, pinning her against the wall. She could smell vomit – almost certainly hers. Something hard – maybe a rock – struck her temple, and pain coursed through her head.

Alannah gasped as she crumpled to the ground, warm blood flowing from the wound as the boy struck again, and again. Was this how her brother had felt, just before his death? Was this how her parents had felt? Tears rolled down Alannah's cheeks, mixing with the blood as it soaked the ground below her.

Maybe this was what she deserved.

Vi Voclain, 18

She hadn't deserved this.

Vi dropped the stone from his hand as the girl's body went still. It was too dark in the tunnel to see what he had done, but that was probably for the best. He didn't want to see. He didn't want—

But they would. Vi's stomach churned as he realized what they would want him to do. What he had to do if he wanted to keep playing their game. Wordlessly, he reached down and picked up the girl's body. It was even smaller than he'd thought. He carried it through the tunnel and hoisted it up into the daylight.

Except the daylight wasn't quite as bright as it had been. Probably a storm brewing. Vi glanced up at Rick, who took a step back as he emerged from the tunnel. "Are you all right?" Rick asked. "The blood—"

"The blood's hers," Vi answered quickly. "I'm fine. You?"

Rick nodded to where another body lay nearby – a boy not much older than the girl Vi had killed. Killed. The thought finally sank in as he saw the girl's body clearly for the first time. There was a lot of blood. Judah had said head wounds would do that, but he still hadn't been prepared. Some of it was hidden by the girl's red outfit, but it also coated her hair, her face, her hands. She'd been trying to shield herself.

It hadn't been enough.

She'd never had a chance.

Vi tried to stop his hands from shaking as Rick doubled over, vomiting. The clouds overhead were growing darker. Vi took a step closer. "It's all right. You did what you had to."

Rick looked up shakily. "No. No, I didn't. I did what you had to. You have to play along if you want them to keep that damn collar turned on, but I … I didn't have to do this." There was a rumbling in the distance.

"Rick!" Vi insisted. "Get it together!"

"I can't. I killed him, just like that. He hadn't done anything. He begged me to let him go. I could have just let him go. I can't—"

"Yes, you can."

"It's not fair!"

"Of course it's not fair!" Vi shouted over the wind, which was picking up speed. "Nothing is! Shit happens! It's been happening to me my whole life. But you know what? It's finally happening to someone else instead! They're dead, but I'm still here. You're still here. And if you want to stay here, you have to—"

He stopped. You have to control this. He'd almost said it, but that wasn't really true, was it. That wasn't what they wanted. They didn't want Rick to control the storm. Vi took a step closer as the rain began to fall, wrapping an arm around Rick, who was still bent over. "You have to deal with it," he finished, squeezing Rick's shoulder. "If that means a bit of rain … well, at least we won't die of thirst."

"It's more than just a bit of rain." Rick's voice was a bit calmer now. "He did something."

"Who?"

"The boy I…" He trailed off, but then swallowed hard and finished. "The boy I killed. He touched me, and … something happened. It feels different this time. Stronger. I don't know what's going to happen."

"Okay."

Rick stood up a little straighter. "Okay? That's it?"

Vi shrugged. "Like I said, shit happens. Is there anything you can do about it?"

"I…" But they both knew the answer. Rick hadn't been able to stop any of the storms he'd started during training, and as strong as his emotions were now … no. There wasn't anything he could do. "No," Rick admitted at last.

Vi nodded and gestured to the pile of bags nearby. "Then maybe we should look for anything we can use to take cover." Even as he said it, he knew the chances of being able to make an actual shelter were slim. But they didn't need it to work; they just needed something to do. Some sort of distraction.

That would be enough.

Colonel Judah Burgess, 52

"I'd say that's good enough for now."

Judah leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile forming on his lips as the two boys covered the fallen contestants' bodies with one of the tarps they found in the backpacks. They took shelter beneath a second one as the rain continued to pour, strong and thick and rough … but ultimately just rain. There was no thunder, no lightning, no hint of anything more than a steady torrent of rain dousing the mountains.

Well, mostly mountains. Mountain peaks, winding rivers and creeks, and lakes both large and small dotted the landscape for miles and miles around. Miles to the southwest and northeast of where the contestants were located, the mountains gave way to plains, but whether any of them would venture that far … well, that probably depended on how long the Games lasted. Manaka, Marcus, and Kenji could make it farther than most, of course, but Manaka and Marcus had settled down by one of the lakes to rest, and Kenji was still racing about, frantically searching for the other two.

Emery and Florence, meanwhile, didn't seem to be in a hurry to be found. Florence was still in bat form, tucked between Emery's ears as the wolf raced away from the circle. She was making good time, largely undeterred by the rain and the wind. As for Florence, she seemed content to ride along, waiting this out, hoping things would get better.

If Vincent was any indication, of course, her condition wasn't likely to improve – and neither was Iola's. Iola didn't know it yet, of course; she and Fae were still heading for where Henry and Kiara had settled down beneath a rickety pine tree, which provided at least some shelter from the rain. Both were restless, and Judah knew Henry must be anxious about what was coming as soon as Iola arrived. They were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For Elio and Lea, it seemed, the shoe had dropped. Jaime had left with Evelyn and Kylena, while Elio and Lea had remained with Makenzie's body as long as they could, trying in vain to revive her until they'd heard Rick and Vi approaching. Finally, they had snatched up a pair of bags and retreated – but not in the same direction as their former teammates. That hadn't taken long.

Nor had it taken long for Sybil to realize that maybe Frederick wasn't such an ideal pick, after all. When push had come to shove, he'd run from a fair fight – a fight they might have won, if they'd called Evelyn's bluff about how long Kylena's bubble would hold. As it was, Frederick was chasing after Seb and Alphonso, probably hoping the former would conjure him up another pair of gloves, at least.

Seb and Alphonso, meanwhile, had gotten away without a scratch, as had several of the other groups. Aside from Ansel's brief tussle with Evelyn – which, at worst, had resulted in a few bruises – and Liv absorbing a bit of Lea's pain, courtesy of Jaime, their group had made it out intact. Lilith, Coburn, and Savannah had managed to put quite a bit of distance behind them early on, as had Marcus and Manaka. After dispatching Makenzie, Sybil had grabbed a large backpack and taken off. Rick and Vi had escaped without a scratch, and then…

And then they had come back. Judah looked up as Mack took a seat beside him. "Not a bad performance," Mack admitted. "We got some good footage out of it. Two older, stronger contestants going out of their way to attack a pair of little kids at the very start of the Games? Not bad at all. Bit of a shame their powers didn't factor in at all, though."

Judah waved a hand dismissively. "There was enough excitement going on that did involve some of the others' powers. A bat and a wolf, a deafening scream, someone nearly getting turned to goo. Not everyone's powers are flashy, but that's the point, isn't it? And this storm will probably last a good while, get everyone soaking wet. The more miserable they are, the more likely they are to make mistakes."

"I guess your gamble paid off, then."

Judah raised an eyebrow. "My gamble?"

"Vi. You've been working with him and Rick. And Sybil, too, come to think of it. You can't tell me that's a coincidence – that the three contestants who've already killed were working with you."

Judah shook his head. "Not a coincidence, no, but I wouldn't call it a gamble. That would imply that there was something to lose."

"You don't think there was?"

"Not at all. What's the worst that could have happened? Let's say Vi and Rick don't come back to the circle. What changes? Alannah and Joseph are still in play. That's all. Say Sybil doesn't jump in and kill Makenzie. What's different? Maybe the fight goes the other way, and Frederick dies instead of her. That's a change, certainly, but a risk? Not to us. Maybe someone else lives, or maybe someone else dies. In the end, it doesn't matter." He smiled a little. "That's what some of you still don't seem to grasp, Mack. It doesn't matter which two of them make it out of this. As long as the Games finish as planned – twenty-eight dead, two alive – we win. There is no risk here – not for us."

"The public—" There was a buzzing sound coming from Mack's pocket, but he ignored it. "We have to make sure that—"

"As long as there are twenty-eight dead bodies at the end of the Games, I guarantee you'll have at least some footage you can use," Judah pointed out as the buzzing continued. "Hell, you've already got a good start; you said so yourself. I wouldn't be surprised if..."

He trailed off as Mack finally pulled out his phone. "I said emergencies only," Mack muttered, glancing at the screen. Then he froze. He scrolled, swore, and kept scrolling. Judah waited patiently. Whatever the problem was, it was probably something political. It usually was. It was best to let Mack handle his area of expertise.

Finally, Mack stood up, still scrolling. "I have to find Nicholas." He was already heading for the door.

Judah rose to follow him. "What's all the fuss about?"

"We're trending."

"Death is always pointless. That is the point."