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

Note: Just a reminder to vote in the "favorite alliance" poll if you haven't yet. A new poll will be up with the next chapter.

Planned

Representative Mack Urban, 37
March 20th, 19:46 MST

Things couldn't be going more smoothly if he'd planned them.

Mack leaned back in his chair, a smile creeping across his face as he scrolled through the notifications on his phone. Footage of the light show Savannah had just put on was trending, along with glaring headlines that asked whether anyone would feel safe around someone who could shoot lightning bolts out of their hands at any moment.

That probably wasn't the sort of video the mutants would have leaked, which was why he had posted that one. He'd also shared an interview one of the news outlets had done with Alannah's aunt, and retweeted several memes asking why people were suddenly concerned about three mutant deaths when mutants had killed hundreds – maybe even thousands – of humans in the past year, to say nothing of mutants who had been killed by other mutants outside of the Games, without sending the whole country into an uproar. It was almost too easy.

Oh, there was some backlash. Protesters in Makenzie's hometown were holding a vigil, and had already organized a march for the next day. She was the best poster child the mutants could ask for. She'd been involved in the community. They'd known about her power, but it was harmless enough. She'd been a good student, she had a nice human boyfriend, and her mother was already on every news outlet that would have her, demanding justice.

So Mack had focused on the other two. Alannah's aunt was more than happy to tell the world what had happened to her dear sister and brother-in-law, not to mention their son. Alannah had driven them all mad, and had only stopped, Maeve had been quick to point out, because she'd been committed to a mental institute.

And then there was Joseph. It had only taken a few words – just a few, in the right post at the right time – for Mack to hint that maybe there was more to his family's deaths than met the eye. There wasn't, of course. His sister had died of cancer, and his father had committed suicide. Or had they? Decide for yourself, Mack had said, and people had.

Damn, he was good at this.

Mack looked up as Lilian entered the room. "Going well?" Lilian asked.

Mack chuckled. "Better than you could imagine."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Mack nodded. Lilian had been the one, after all, to suggest they simply go public, let the truth come out and run with it. "How did you know?"

Lilian took a seat in the chair opposite him. "Because people are predictable, Mack. When you confront them with something horrible, there's always a part of them that starts desperately searching for a reason why they don't have to care. Because if they care, then they have to do something. They have to change something. And deep down, Mack, right at their core … people don't want to change."

"That's an awfully cynical view."

"Said the politician."

"I'm trying to help people. What I'm doing – what we're doing – it's for everyone's good. At the end of the day, people are safer if mutants are contained. Whatever steps we have to take to get there, they'll be worth it in the end."

"So the ends justify the means."

"Yes."

"Always?"

Mack chuckled. "Like you said, Lilian, I'm a politician. I don't do 'always.' But in this case, yes. What we're trying to accomplish here is worth the price. Think about it. Twenty-eight dead mutants. That's nothing compared to the number who would die if we did nothing. It's numbers, Lilian." He snorted. "Even Alvin couldn't argue with that."

Except he could. And he had. Time and again, Alvin had argued against the Games because of the 'unintended consequences' he claimed were certain to follow. But so far, all of the so-called 'consequences' had done nothing but help them make their case. They were winning.

Just not quite in the way they had planned.

Vi Voclain, 18

He was starting to wonder whether this was a good plan.

Vi watched as the last of the lightning disappeared in the distance. But not too far in the distance, he was pretty sure, although it was hard to be certain in the growing dark. Certainly in the same direction they had been headed, though. He and Rick had packed some of the supplies into the pair of backpacks they were carrying, and had stashed the rest in the tunnels back at the circle. It wasn't exactly the best hiding place, but it had really been the only option, short of dragging the entire stash along. And while the tunnels now had a layer of water in them, the backpacks seemed to be fairly waterproof.

The ones he and Rick were carrying were certainly dry enough, as were the supplies inside. They'd each chosen a sleeping bag and an extra change of clothes – shirt, pants, socks, long underwear, hat, gloves, scarf, and rain poncho. They'd also packed four water bottles, a couple dozen beef sticks, four packages of graham crackers, a large bag of pretzels, a bag of tortillas, a jar of peanut butter, and a bag of granola. And they'd each taken a coil of rope, a box of matches, a compass, a watch, some bandages, a bottle of painkillers, a headlamp, and a flashlight.

And the batteries. Rick had been confused at first when he'd suggested taking the batteries from the other flashlights and headlamps, but it would be lighter than carrying all of them around. Besides, if someone did come snooping around the supplies, they might not think to check whether the light actually worked, which could give them an advantage later on.

Later on. Vi couldn't help a smile as he fingered one of the other things he'd taken – a knife. Rick had one, as well, and they'd each taken one of the mallets. That seemed to be all the weapons in the fourteen bags that had been left – a pair of knives and a pair of mallets. So that would have to be enough. Enough to last until 'later on.' But if he wanted to live that long…

"I think we should head that way," Vi suggested.

Rick's eyebrows immediately shot up. "You mean … towards the lightning?" Vi nodded. "You realize that wasn't really lightning, right? From the sky? That came from the ground, which means there's someone out there who can manipulate lightning, and you want to head towards them?"

It did sound a bit absurd, when Rick put it like that. But Vi held his ground. "Yes."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed as he sorted through potential questions and apparently decided the simplest was the most useful. "Why?"

Because if we don't, now that we've noticed they're there, there's no telling what the MAAB might do. But he didn't say it. Didn't dare say what he was afraid of – that they might decide to turn his collar off if he didn't appear to be making some sort of progress. He'd already talked Rick into coming back to the circle, into killing because it was what he needed to do. If he tried that again, Rick might … What? Refuse to come? Leave? He couldn't let that happen. He needed Rick. He needed … someone.

He hadn't realized, really, just how much he'd missed having company. Ever since Alex had died, he'd been on his own, not daring to get close to anyone. But this was different. Rick was different. Rick was safe, as long as he did what he needed to do.

So he flashed Rick a smile. "Does it look like they can control it?"

Rick didn't answer. He didn't need to. The lightning had been erratic. Unpredictable. Out of control. Hell, the fact that someone was shooting off lightning bolts in the first place, the fact that they were giving away their position so quickly, meant that they probably couldn't control it at all. That would give them an edge.

He didn't mention the other possibility – that it might just be a show. A trap. That someone could be trying to lure them in. It was too early for that, wasn't it? Except it hadn't been too early for them to think of hiding the supplies and ambushing anyone who came to take more.

The last of the twilight was enough for Vi to watch Rick's expression change. Conflicting emotions flickered across his face. He didn't like this. He was nervous. Maybe he'd even worked out that it might be a trap. But at last, he nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

Coburn Hughes, 17

At least they had a plan.

Coburn couldn't help a smile as he finished his piece of the bird Savannah had hit with her lightning. It hadn't taken them long to find it even in the growing dark, and certainly hadn't taken long to cook it. He wasn't sure exactly what kind of bird it was, and part of him was glad it had been too dark to tell, but once he'd burned off all the feathers and cooked the meat inside, there had been enough for each of them to have a portion. It wasn't exactly a meal, but it would help the stretch out the rest of the supplies a bit longer than they would have been able to otherwise.

Which was good, because they probably wouldn't be getting any more. All three of them had quickly agreed that it would be a good idea to get as far away from anyone else as possible, especially if Savannah was going to need to occasionally let off some lightning that would give away their position to anyone who happened to see it. From now on, of course, she could make a point of doing so during the daytime, when the lightning would be harder to pinpoint, but for now, they needed to put some distance behind them.

So as soon as they were done eating, the three of them took off again. It was slow going, but at least they were making progress. Now that the storm had cleared, the moon was bright enough to see by. There had been a headlamp in one of the backpacks, but they'd figured it was better to save the light until they actually needed it. The moon was full, just above the horizon off to their left as they set out. "Just keep heading south, then?" Coburn asked.

Savannah turned. "How'd you know it's south?"

Coburn couldn't help a smile. "My mom takes us camping sometimes on the weekends if we don't have anything else going on." He stopped, turned, and pointed. "See the big dipper there? Those two stars point to that one in the little dipper. That's the North Star, so that's north. So this is south." He jerked his thumb in the direction they'd been heading.

Savannah was still looking up. "You don't get stars like this in Boston. This would actually be pretty nice if…"

She trailed off, but it was obvious how that sentence was going to end. If people weren't going to die. Coburn nodded. Sure, the storm hadn't been great, but with his help, they'd dried off quickly enough. The food they had would last them a while, and they'd managed to get away from the others without having to fight. All things considered, this wasn't that bad.

Not yet, at least. And as long as they could keep going, keep avoiding the other contestants, then they wouldn't need to worry about the rest. They wouldn't need to think about the fact that at least one of them was going to die.

Coburn looked up, vaguely aware that Lilith had asked something. "Huh?"

"I asked if your mom knew – that you're a mutant."

Coburn shook his head. "None of them did. Not even my twin sister."

Lilith chuckled. "Small world. I'm a twin, too."

Coburn grinned. "Really?" Lilith had mentioned a sister, but not that she was a twin.

"Yeah. She was the first one to find out. Our whole family was great about it, wanted us to practice so we could learn to control what we can do."

Coburn turned to Savannah. "How about you?"

"It's just me and my dad now. He knows, but actually using my power never really seemed like an option. It's all I can do to keep it under control, keep people from finding out." She shook her head. "And obviously even that didn't work out too well."

Coburn nodded. It hadn't worked for him, either. As hard as he'd tried to keep a lid on his power, he'd never really been able to control it. Maybe Lilith was right; maybe practicing was the only way to learn how to handle it.

He just wished he'd had more time to practice.

Marcus del Rio, 19

He wished they'd had more time to dry out.

Marcus shivered and pulled the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders, but that didn't do anything to change the fact that his clothes were still damp. By the time the rain had finally stopped, the sun had begun to set, and now it was dark and growing colder by the minute. For a moment, he thought about suggesting that they simply keep going. At least if they were moving, their body heat could help keep them warm. But Manaka was already stretching out on the ground, trying hard to keep from yawning.

Besides, they'd already gotten far enough. After stopping for lunch at the lake, they'd headed out again, and had found yet another lake. At least there didn't seem to be a shortage of those, which meant there would be plenty of places to refill their water bottles when they needed to. There were a few trees around this lake, as well, but it probably wasn't even worth asking…

He asked anyway. "Do you think it's worth trying to build a fire?"

Manaka looked up, surprised. "You know how?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, but how hard could it be? Don't you just make a pile of wood and … rub two sticks together?" he finished feebly. He hadn't really thought about this part. During training, they'd been so focused on learning how to manipulate their powers that neither of them had really thought to ask about making a fire, or how to find food, or anything like that. He'd just assumed he would be able to figure it out.

"The wood's probably too wet," Manaka pointed out. "But we can give it a try if you want to."

Marcus shook his head as Manaka hid another yawn. "Maybe tomorrow. Things will have dried out by then, won't they?"

"Mm-hmm," Manaka agreed sleepily, wrapping his blanket tighter. He was still shivering, though.

Marcus scooted a little closer. "It'll probably be warmer if we stay closer together. We could both use some rest."

"You don't think one of us should…?"

"What?"

"Keep watch, I guess?"

Marcus shrugged. "No reason we can't do that from under a blanket." He wrapped his blanket around both of them, and Manaka quickly did the same. "There. That's a little warmer, at least."

The younger boy snuggled closer as Marcus lay down beside him. "Do you want me to keep watch, or…?"

Marcus couldn't help a yawn. "I'll take the first one. I'll wake you in…" He peered at Manaka's watch in the moonlight. "What do you think? Three hours? Four?"

"Sounds good," Manaka agreed, his eyes already half-closed.

Marcus yawned. It would probably be easier to stay awake if it weren't so damn cold. Manaka was already drifting off. Marcus stared up at the stars. Sure, this wasn't exactly a great vantage point, but anyone coming their way would have to make some sort of noise, and they could be up and ready to go before anything happened.

He just had to stay awake.

Henry Helstrom, 14

They had to stay awake.

Henry rubbed their eyes as they stared out into the dark. They'd stopped running when they'd reached the base of one of the mountains, now just a looming shape in the darkness. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, since that was one less direction that someone could be approaching from. But the moonlight kept playing tricks with the shadows of the trees, and the wind whistling through the branches was just loud enough to spook them every time they thought about lying down to get some sleep. And maybe that was good, because they had to stay awake.

But they couldn't stay awake forever.

Henry shook the thought from their head. They could worry about that later. Right now, it was a good time for a snack. Yes. Yes, that was it. Food would help keep them awake. They dug through the bag and chose one of the packages of graham crackers. There were two of those, along with a bag of tortillas, a jar of peanut butter, and two dozen beef sticks. It wasn't exactly a feast, but it would be enough for a while. There had also been three bottles of water, an extra pair of socks, a pair of gloves, a pair of earmuffs, a rain poncho, and a hat. They'd put on the hat, gloves, and socks, but it was still rather chilly out. They'd thought about taking out the sleeping bag that had been inside the backpack, but…

But that would be too tempting. If they snuggled up inside that, then they would definitely fall asleep. And they couldn't do that. Not yet.

Not yet.

But when? They would have to sleep sometime. They couldn't stay awake forever. And maybe nighttime would be the best option for sleeping, since most of the other contestants probably wouldn't want to go anywhere in the dark, either. But…

But, but, but. There would always be a 'but.' But there was a vampire who would be able to see in the dark. But there was a wolf out there somewhere, and the darkness wouldn't present much of a problem for a wolf. And there was no telling what some of the other contestants could do.

But that would also be true in the daytime. And they'd gotten a good look at the terrain in the light earlier – or as light as it had been after the rain had finally stopped. There didn't seem to be many places to hide. Maybe if they went farther up into the mountains.

Henry finished off one of the beef sticks and peered at the watch they'd found in the bag. The moon was bright enough for them to see the time – nearly ten thirty. Assuming the watch was right, of course. There had also been a compass, a flashlight, a bottle of painkillers, and a knife. It was better than nothing, but not nearly as good as having a golem around.

Henry waved their hand absent-mindedly, and a smaller golem appeared. Huh. They'd never given any thought to the question of what the golem would do while they were asleep. Could they ask it to keep watch? Would that work, or would it crumble into nothingness once they weren't controlling it anymore? And how would they know?

Henry clenched their fists. They should have thought of that during training. They could have figured it out for sure. All Fae would have had to do was lull them to sleep with one of their songs, and they would know whether or not it would work. But they hadn't thought of it, because they'd just assumed that someone else would be able to keep watch while they were asleep. They hadn't thought…

Henry shook their head. Maybe they hadn't consciously thought it, but there was a part of them that had assumed that this wouldn't last, that their little alliance had been too good to be true. Oh, it had felt good at first, like the first couple foster homes they'd been in. They'd thought that maybe, just maybe, this would be the time that things worked out.

They should have known better. There was a part of them that had known better. And now they were alone. Henry took another drink of water, fighting back the lump that was forming in their throat. They were alone, but that was better than the alternative. It was better than staying and dealing with … everything. Sometimes it was just better to leave. To run.

Henry packed the food back into the backpack and pulled out the sleeping bag. Might as well. They would have to sleep sometime. They rolled the sleeping bag out on the ground, snuggled inside, and summoned the largest golem they could. "Wake me if anyone comes close," they muttered, already half-asleep.

They wondered if it would work.

Liv Holle, 18

She wondered how long everything would stay wet.

Liv shivered beneath the sleeping bag that she, Ansel, and Lee were trying to share. When she was in metal form, Elena apparently didn't get cold, which was good because four of them wouldn't have fit. Even three was pushing it, with the sleeping bag unzipped and laid over them, and the tarp on top of that.

Since she was outside the sleeping bag anyway, Elena had offered to take the first watch to give the others a chance to sleep. Lee was already snoring softly, and at least Ansel's eyes were closed, but Liv was wide awake, staring up at the sky. There were stars, at least, which meant there wasn't a storm. But how long would that really last? There was someone else here who could manipulate the weather, and they hadn't hesitated to unleash a storm that had left everything soaking wet, and the air cold and clammy. How was anyone supposed to sleep in this weather?

And the worst of it was, she hadn't been able to do a damn thing about it. What good was being able to control the weather if she couldn't really control it? Today it had just been rain, but it could have been worse. If there was hail or snow or lightning or something even worse, the others would expect her to be able to do something. They would expect her to be able to protect them.

She couldn't. She hadn't even been able to keep them dry. So what was the point of keeping her around? And how long would it be before one of them started thinking the same way?

Liv closed her eyes, trying to block out the thought. Maybe her powers were pretty useless, but that didn't mean that she was. She'd gotten them some supplies, after all. Their only weapon – the mallet – had been in her pack. So had the box of matches, which would be useful for keeping warm once everything finally dried out enough to light a fire. If they could find some wood. And if they could be certain that the light wouldn't attract unwanted attention.

That was a lot of 'if.'

Beside her, Ansel rolled over a little, probably trying to get comfortable. "Don't suppose you could guarantee tomorrow will be sunny and warm," he muttered, shivering.

Liv clenched her teeth. He didn't mean anything by it – not really. He was just cold and tired, like the rest of them. But she was already sick of him assuming that she could just snap her fingers and make the weather better. It didn't work like that – especially not with someone else trying to do something different. "Sorry," she snarled through clenched teeth. "Looks like you'll have to come up with a different bright idea."

"I didn't mean—"

"No, you just want me to fix it, just like you want the rest of us to do everything. I didn't see you grabbing anything, or coming up with a way to keep us dry, or doing anything."

"I—"

"Forget it," Liv snapped.

"I just—"

"I said forget it." She rolled over and shut her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that it was damp, that it was cold, that there were people out there who wanted to kill her. She didn't need Ansel reminding her of just how little she could really do to help. She was doing her best.

But her best wasn't good enough.

Kylena Albright, 16

"That's probably good enough for now."

Kylena nodded her agreement as Evelyn began packing what was left of the food back into their backpacks. They had each eaten one of the pudding cups, using one of the sticks of celery as a spoon before eating those, as well. It wasn't much of a meal, but it would be enough to last them until morning. Especially since they had no idea how long the food would have to last. It could be days, or it could be weeks. There was no way of knowing.

Evelyn pulled the sleeping bag out of the backpack and unzipped it. "If we spread it out, we could probably fit the three of us," she suggested. "And then put the blanket over it for a bit more warmth?"

That certainly sounded good. The rain had stopped hours ago, but everything was still damp – including their clothes, which had been soaked through. The blanket had gotten wet earlier, but they'd wrung it out a bit, so hopefully it wouldn't seep through the sleeping bag. There was no chance of finding a dry place to sleep, so they would just have to make do.

Kylena snuggled up between Jaime and Evelyn, hoping that would be enough to keep the three of them warm. She hadn't really given any thought to this part of the Games. She'd been so worried about someone else trying to kill them that she hadn't thought about the cold, or the damp, or how there wouldn't be anything soft to sleep on. The beds the MAAB had provided during training hadn't exactly been nice, but they'd been worlds better than the rocky ground.

Kylena rolled over a little, resting her head on her arm. After a moment, Jaime rolled over again, dug through one of the bags, and pulled out the three scarves. They tossed one to each of the others, balled the third one up, and laid it on the ground. Kylena quickly did the same. It wasn't much of a pillow, but it was something.

"Someone should probably keep watch," Kylena mumbled in a tone that she hoped suggested she wasn't exactly volunteering. All of them were exhausted, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her eyes open much longer.

"Yeah, probably," Evelyn muttered, immediately tapping her nose with her finger. Kylena quickly did the same, trying to stifle a laugh. "Nose goes," Evelyn concluded, shrugging as much as she could from her position on the ground.

Jaime rolled their eyes. "What are you, thirteen?"

"Seventeen," Evelyn corrected. "And Kylena's sixteen, so that technically makes you the oldest, too. All the more reason for you to take the first watch."

Jaime shook their head, but they were smiling. "Fine. I'll wake someone in a few hours. And if we're going by age, I guess that's you."

"Fair enough," Evelyn agreed as Jaime took the watch out of one of the backpacks and put it on. "What time is it now?"

"Almost eleven."

"Let's say three hours, then," Evelyn suggested. "That'll get us to eight in the morning and get everyone a solid six hours of sleep."

"And maybe tomorrow we can try to get to sleep a little sooner," Kylena suggested.

Evelyn exaggerated a groan. "God, you sound like my mom. But that's not a bad idea. Might as well sleep while it's dark, and it's been dark for a few hours already. Sun goes down early in the mountains, huh?"

"Guess so," Kylena agreed, stifling a yawn. "And the storm didn't really help, either."

"Maybe tomorrow will be better," Jaime offered hopefully.

It can't exactly get much worse. But she didn't say it out loud. Because as bad as things were now – Makenzie was dead, their group had split up, and they were all cold and tired – they could always get worse. And sooner or later, they were going to get worse.

It was only a matter of time.

Lea Cervantes, 18

It was only a matter of time before they would have to sleep.

Lea rubbed her eyes as she and Elio trudged on into the night. After spending most of the day huddled beneath a tarp, it had seemed like a good idea to try to put some distance between them and the other contestants while the others probably wouldn't be on the move. The moon was high in the sky now, which meant they didn't even have to use the headlamp they had found in one of the backpacks.

Lea took another sip of water. They'd stopped to top off the water bottles at the last lake they'd passed. Between the lakes and the rain, at least they weren't likely to die of thirst. Cold, on the other hand, was a different matter. They'd changed into the dry shirts and pants they'd found in the backpacks, and each of them had a blanket wrapped around them like a poncho. Elio had given her the hat and helped himself to the pair of earmuffs. But it was still cold.

Or maybe it just felt cold to her. Lea rubbed the back of her head where she'd hit it on the rocks earlier. She hadn't wanted to worry Elio, but she was still a little lightheaded. That was one of the symptoms of a concussion, wasn't it? Or maybe she was just tired. But you weren't supposed to sleep after a concussion, were you? So it was probably a good thing that they were still moving.

"Lea?" Elio's voice cut through her thoughts. "You all right?"

Lea nodded. "Yeah. Just a bit cold." She chuckled. "Guess I'm not in Arizona anymore, huh?"

Immediately, Elio's hands were on her shoulders, a warmth and calmness coursing through her. Lea's knees gave way at the shock, and Elio caught her as she slid to the ground. "Easy. Easy does it. Sorry. Why didn't you say something sooner? I didn't realize it was that cold."

"I…" She wasn't sure, really. She just hadn't wanted to seem like she was complaining. "I didn't want to bother you."

Elio gave her shoulder a squeeze. "It's not a bother. Really. It's what I do."

Lea forced a smile. "At least what you do is useful."

"So is your gift."

"Didn't stop me from getting my ass— my butt handed to me earlier," Lea pointed out. "And it didn't save Makenzie."

"Neither did I." Elio's voice was quiet. "I really thought if I stayed long enough, if I tried hard enough…" He trailed off.

"You thought you'd be able to bring someone back to life?"

"Doctors save people with CPR all the time."

"Not every time. You did your best. But we had to get out of there to save ourselves."

"Maybe."

Lea raised an eyebrow. "You think we should have stayed and gotten killed? You heard those screams after we left. Whoever was coming back there was not playing around."

"And you think we are?"

"No. I just—" Lea sighed. "Look, if the idea is to avoid fighting, that means that sometimes, we're going to have to run away. And we have to be able to live with that. Makenzie is—" She swallowed hard, but then finished. "Makenzie is dead. Evelyn, Kylena, and Jaime left. It's just us now. No large group refusing to fight. No more recruiting people to join us. It's just us. And I'm okay with that. Are you?"

Elio nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am." He helped her to her feet and gave her shoulder one more reassuring squeeze.

"Let's get out of here."

Fae Tomasini, 13

She would never be able to sleep out here.

Fae snuggled closer to Iola, who was already sleeping soundly – or maybe just better than her at pretending to be. Her breathing was soft and quiet, her expression almost peaceful in the moonlight. Kiara had offered to take the first watch, leaving Iola and Fae huddled together inside the sleeping bag that had been in one of the backpacks.

At least Henry had left one of the backpacks when they'd run off. Well, one of the bigger ones the golem had grabbed, along with the one Iola had snatched up … what? Twelve hours ago, maybe? It already seemed like a lifetime. Everything had been different then. She had been so certain that everything would be fine, as long as they could make it back to Kiara.

But it wasn't Kiara's fault. It wasn't even Henry's fault for not telling them. They weren't the one who had made their friend deaf. Whatever she had or hadn't known, the fact remained that she was the one who had screamed. No one else had made that choice for her. Fae took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears from her eyes. She had done that.

And Vincent … She was the one who had suggested that she should try screaming in the first place. If she had just kept her mouth shut, none of this would have happened. She had wanted to help, to contribute, and all she'd managed to do was tear their group apart. Henry was gone. Iola was deaf. And Kiara … well, Kiara was still fine, at least physically, but the idea that there were some injuries she couldn't heal had clearly shaken her.

Slowly, Fae wriggled out of the sleeping bag. "Need some water?" Kiara asked, offering her a bottle. Between the two backpacks, there had been plenty of supplies. Four water bottles, a box of poptarts, a bag of granola, a dozen pudding cups, a bag of bagels, a jar of applesauce, a dozen packages of fruit snacks, and a large bag of trail mix. And that was just the food. There had also been a rain poncho, a pair of sunglasses, two pairs of earmuffs, a shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of long underwear, two coils of rope, a pillow, a headlamp, some bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a knife.

And a pair of earplugs.

Fae's stomach churned at the thought. There was no way, of course, that they could have known what was in the backpacks. They certainly hadn't had time to look through them. And short of testing them on Kiara, they had no way of knowing whether the earplugs could have blocked out her scream, but the fact that the MAAB had included them in the bags at all was certainly a hint that they could have been useful.

And maybe they would still have done the same thing if they had known. Maybe they would still have assumed that Kiara would be able to heal Iola. Or maybe Henry would have said something if they'd known there was another option. If they had just taken a moment or two to look through the bags…

But there hadn't been time.

Fae shook her head. "No, I'm not thirsty. I just … couldn't sleep. Maybe I should watch for a while, if I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway."

Kiara hesitated, but only for a moment. "Okay. Wake us up if anything happens." She handed Fae the knife she'd taken from the backpack. "Just in case." Then she snuggled into the sleeping bag with Iola, carefully avoiding lying on her right arm where the wolf had bitten her. It would have been worse, she'd insisted, if Henry's golem hadn't been there to rescue her.

But now Henry was gone.

Fae took a drink of water, forcing down the lump in her throat. Henry was gone, but the three of them still had each other, and there was still something she could do. Softly, quietly, careful not to be too loud, she began to sing a lullaby. Kiara's eyes closed, a smile passing over her face as she drifted off to sleep. Fae shook her head, staring off into the darkness.

At least she had done something right.

Alphonso Bell-Garcia, 15

At least they had something to do.

Alphonso grinned as he finished off his second can of beer. He was pretty sure it was his second, at least. It couldn't possibly be more than his third. If it was his fourth, he would be drunker than this, certainly. He was certainly buzzed, but he wasn't that drunk. Alphonso blinked at the cards in front of him. Maybe Seb had just conjured up blurry cards. Yes, that made more sense. That, and the fact that the light was so damn dim.

Alphonso giggled. Damn dim. Well, that was what happened when they didn't have any electricity. After the first beer or so, he'd tried to convince Seb that it wouldn't hurt to add a few lights, until Seb had pointed out that the electricity had to come from somewhere, and a few power lines poofing into existence would certainly draw attention.

Attention. Alphonso shook his head, spilling a bit of his drink. To hell with attention. They had everything they could possibly want to defend themselves. Well, except maybe a guard dog, but he could always ask Seb to make one of those later, when they decided to go to bed. Oh, and beds. They would need those, too. But Seb could make those easily enough. He could make anything, and all Alphonso had to do was ask.

He hadn't even had to ask to get Seb to join him for a beer. He was probably just as eager to forget what was going on as Alphonso was. And Frederick … Where had Frederick gone? Probably to the bathroom. Was there a bathroom? No. If Seb hadn't added electricity, he probably hadn't added plumbing. So Frederick was probably outside. Yeah, that made sense.

Alphonso slapped his cards down on the table. "Boom! Straight flush. Beat that."

Seb blinked, a bit flustered. "What do you mean, straight flush?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"I thought we were playing Go Fish."

Oh. "No, no, no, it's … it's a new game. Go Poker Fish! It's like Poker, but…" But what? What could they do with fish? "But if you lose, you have to eat a fish."

Seb made a face. "I don't like fish."

"Neither do I. That's the point. Let's see your cards."

Seb laid them face-down on the table. Alphonso flipped them the other way around, then stared for a moment. "I think there's something … something wrong with the deck," he concluded.

"Wrong? What's wrong with it?" Seb asked defensively, slamming his drink down on the table.

Alphonso couldn't help a giggle. Lightweight. "I'm pretty sure there aren't supposed to be five suits. What are these ones?" He held up two of the cards. Where there was usually a suit, there was a star instead.

Seb took the card and examined it. "It's a starfish."

"Ohhhhhhhh, that makes sense," Alphonso agreed. "I dunno if starfish beat hearts, though." He reached for another can. "Maybe we should each eat a fish."

Seb shrugged. "Or neither of us."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"More fun for the fish."

He had a point there. Alphonso considered that for a moment. "Well, maybe not real fish, then. Maybe those little … little goldfish cracker things. Yeah, make some of those."

Seb beamed. "Right! Those are good." He reached for his pen and a napkin, which he had written after one of them had spilled a beer. Alphonso was pretty sure it hadn't been him. He staggered over behind Seb and watched as he wrote. Guldfesh. Seb swayed a little in his chair, then toppled over onto the floor as a pile of goldfish crackers appeared on the table. Alphonso popped a few into his mouth, then sank down on the floor beside Seb.

This was going to be a good night.

Emery Mullins, 15

At least someone was having a good night.

Emery stifled a low growl at the sounds of laughter in the distance. She couldn't make out the voices well enough to tell who it was, but maybe that didn't really matter. If one of the groups was confident enough in their ability to fight off any attack that they were willing to completely give away their position, it probably wasn't a good idea to charge into a fight. Especially since Florence wasn't in much of a position to…

What? Fight? Fly? Stand up on her own? They'd gotten a bit farther earlier, but Florence had been having trouble staying on her feet, so Emery had suggested that she turn into a bat and had carried her on her back. It was no trouble, really – bats weren't heavy at all – but she could tell Florence didn't like the idea of relying on her to get around. She probably hadn't survived for more than a hundred years by relying on other people.

Emery snuggled a little closer to Kenji, Florence still nestled snugly in her fur. Kenji smiled in his sleep, completely undeterred by the idea of sleeping next to a wolf. She couldn't tell whether Florence was asleep, but she hadn't moved for a while. Emery had offered to keep watch, since her vision would be better than Kenji's in the dark, although her ears would probably alert her to anything unusual before her eyes did.

And then there were the smells. There was definitely some sort of smell wafting in from the distance, in the same direction as the laughter. It smelled almost like pizza, but that didn't make any sense. There wouldn't be pizza in any of the backpacks, would there? Unless…

Oh. Oh, shit. Emery's fur stood on end as she realized who was probably nearby. Well, near enough for her to hear them, at least. During the talent show, one of the boys had made things appear out of thin air just by writing them. It probably wouldn't be hard for him to write himself a pizza. Emery's mind raced as she tried to remember who he had been working with. The boy who turned things to goo, and … someone. One of the younger boys, around her age. But did it really matter what he could do, if he was working with the two of them?

Emery tried to relax. From the sound of it, they weren't coming any closer. The sounds had been coming from the same direction, at roughly the same volume, for quite a while now. They'd probably stopped for the night. Maybe she should wake the others, and they could…

What? Put some distance between themselves and the other group? Would they even want to? Florence had been the one to suggest that they go after the other group at the start of the Games. But after seeing how that had turned out, surely she wouldn't want to try it again. For a while, at least, they were probably better off not going around picking fights. Florence had to realize that.

And Kenji … well, he'd run in the first place, so he certainly wouldn't object. Emery fought back a twinge of annoyance at the thought. Sure, there wasn't much he could have done if he'd stayed and helped the two of them. He certainly couldn't have stopped the other girl from screaming, short of running up to her and putting his hand over her mouth. And that probably wouldn't have worked, even if he could move fast enough to dodge the golem.

There was nothing he could have done.

Kenji Rose, 12

There was nothing he could have done.

Kenji snuggled closer to Emery, hoping she wouldn't notice that he was still awake. If she did, of course, he could always say that the laughter had woken him. It was rather loud, but that wasn't the truth. It hadn't woken him because he hadn't fallen asleep. He was too scared.

Not of the laughter – not really. All that meant was that there was someone nearby – or at least close enough for them to hear. But if anyone came after them, all they would have to do was take off running. Emery's wolf form wasn't as fast as he was, but she could still outrun the other contestants. Most of them, anyway. Probably.

Okay, well, now that he thought about it, maybe he was a bit scared of the laughter. But not as scared as he was of what might happen if he fell asleep. Because while there wasn't anything he could have done to help Florence before, there was something he could do now. Something he'd promised he would never do again. But it would be so easy. All he would have to do was go back to the start of the day.

Talking the other two out of their plan was out of the question. There was no way to do that without letting someone know what was going on. There hadn't been any time when they'd been alone before the Games, and he didn't even dare think about going back any farther than that. There was no telling what could happen. But one day…

No. Not even with what he knew now. Not even with what he had found in the bag. He knew which bag it was, of course. It was the one that had been closest to his tunnel. All he would have to do was check the bag first, and make sure that Florence got what he had found before they went after the other group. That was all. It would be easy. And he was terrified that if he fell asleep now, he might actually do it.

He wouldn't mean to, but he hadn't mean to travel through time the first time, either. He'd simply been thinking of a moment as he'd drifted off, and had found himself back in that moment. That was all it took. He'd gotten good at not doing it, but all it would take was one slip. One slip, and he could … what? Save Florence from going deaf? But what else would that change? There was no way of knowing how anything else would turn out, for better or worse, and that was why he couldn't. Why he wouldn't. He'd promised that he wouldn't.

It took Kenji a moment to realize that something was shaking him, and another few moments to realize that something was a wolf's snout. Emery was already on her feet – well, paws – with Florence tucked between her ears. Emery tilted her head slightly in the direction of the laughter. Kenji nodded wordlessly and slung the backpack over his shoulder. The moon was bright enough to see by, and even if it got darker, Emery would be able to see well enough. All he would have to do was follow her. For now, that was enough of a plan.

He could worry about the rest later.

Frederick Bouvy, 17

He couldn't worry about them anymore.

Frederick shook his head as he made his way through the night, away from the sound of laughter that was still echoing behind him. He was pretty sure he was headed back in the direction he had come from, back towards the circle. Maybe there would still be some backpacks there. He could have asked Seb to make him one, but that might have tipped Alphonso off that he was planning to leave.

Well, he hadn't exactly been planning to. He'd wanted to stay a bit longer, at least. A few days of relaxing in a house, eating pizza, sleeping in a real bed … that had all sounded good. But Alphonso didn't seem to care that they were being too obvious about their position, and Frederick wasn't going to stick around long enough for things to go bad.

And they would go bad; he was certain of it. Alphonso was convinced that there was no one else who posed a threat to them – not when they were armed and could create anything they wanted out of thin air. And a day ago, Frederick might have agreed with him. He'd thought his power was going to keep him safe, too.

He hadn't thought about everything that could go wrong. He hadn't thought about someone using their shadow to keep him from using his hands, or about contestants using bubbles to shield themselves. Maybe his power was impressive, but it was also rather straightforward. He needed to be able to touch people to use it. If he couldn't…

Frederick's hand went to the pistol in his pocket. That was better than nothing, but it only had six shots. They'd had a little time to practice during training, but he still wasn't sure he'd be able to hit a target – not at any real distance, at least. And if they were moving … Well, he might get lucky, but he might not.

Maybe it would work as a deterrent. If he pointed it at someone, would they run away? Maybe. Or maybe they would be able to knock it out of his hands with their minds or something. Aside from the talent show, he hadn't really given much thought to what the other contestants could do. There was no telling what might happen.

Frederick shook his head. There was one thing that certainly wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to get ambushed in a house with two kids who were too drunk to do anything but sit there and laugh. He'd already underestimated some of the other contestants once. He wasn't going to do that again. Whether they realized it or not, Alphonso and Seb were tempting fate.

So he would just have to take his chances alone.

Ansel Moore, 21

It would probably be better if he went alone.

Ansel stood up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He was technically on watch, so he wouldn't have to worry about waking anyone else. He had plenty of time left before he was supposed to wake Lee. Liv had only woken him about half an hour ago; it was almost one thirty, according to his watch.

Well, not really his watch, but the watch they were sharing. None of this stuff was really his. He hadn't grabbed anything earlier. But now he could fix that. There were other people nearby; he could hear them. There was a bit of laughter far in the distance, but there was also something closer.

Someone was singing.

Ansel took a few hesitant steps, as if doing so might wake the others. It didn't. The three of them were sound asleep. Elena had finally reverted back to her human form and was snuggled up with Lee and Liv. He doubted if anything would wake them.

He certainly wasn't about to. What would he tell them? That someone was singing, and he thought they could go steal some more supplies? No, the others didn't really have any reason to want to gather more supplies. They had enough to last them a while. But Ansel…

Ansel took a deep breath. Okay. He could do this. He could sneak up on whoever was singing – probably the same little girl who had sung at the talent show – take any supplies that might be around, and leg it back here, saying … what? That he found them? That he saw someone running away and took off after them, and they dropped some supplies? Maybe. He could figure that out later. First, he had to get those supplies.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. Ansel followed the voice into the dark. Wasn't there some sort of story about a creature that lured people to their deaths by singing? But this girl couldn't do that, could she? She was just singing. And the people she was working with…

Ansel followed the singing, trying to remember. He was pretty sure she was working with the kid who had made some little toys out of the ground during the talent show. He wasn't sure about the others. But if things got too bad, he could always run away.

Just like he had earlier.

Ansel felt a knot forming in his stomach. He had run away from the girl who had taken the backpack they'd been fighting over. He could have gone after her. He could have just grabbed another one. But he had run, instead.

You want the rest of us to do everything. That was what Liv had said. Did the others really think that – that he was mooching off of them, not pulling his own weight? Maybe. But they wouldn't – not after he came back with something useful.

Ansel crouched lower, as if that would make a difference. If someone happened to be facing his direction, they would see him – or at least his outline in the dark. The moon was bright enough for him to see now, too. He could see the girl, sitting near what looked like a pair of backpacks. Just sitting there, singing. Maybe trying to lull the other two to sleep.

Two. He could see two others curled up nearby, but they did seem to be asleep. If he just took one of the backpacks and ran, what would they do? Would they even bother coming after him? Would they wake up in time? If they did…

If they did, and they followed him back … No. No, he couldn't let them do that. The others would be furious. But there was no way to stop them from following him, unless…

Unless they didn't see him. Unless he was quick enough, or…

Or he killed her.

Ansel swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. That was the only way to be certain. The only way to make sure they wouldn't follow him back. He had to do it quickly, and quietly, and not wake the others. Ansel took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this.

He lunged.

So did one of the other shapes.

His hand was already over the younger girl's mouth, the other arm wrapped around her neck, by the time something clutched his arm. He squeezed, but as soon as he did, there was pain. Pain in his head. That didn't make sense. He hadn't felt anything hit him. But this was sharp, and deep, and just like those migraines he sometimes got when he used his power too long on himself. But he hadn't been doing that.

One of them must have done something.

Kiara Moore, 15

It must have worked.

Kiara gripped the boy's arm tighter, as if that would make the headache stronger. She wasn't sure whether that was the case or not, but at least it had gotten him to loosen his grip on Fae, who had managed to slide out of his grasp. The boy got his wits back quickly enough, though, and was now on top of Kiara, instead. One punch caught her in the side, the next the side of her head.

Kiara punched back with her right hand, even though that made the wolf bite on her arm flare with pain. She had to keep a grip with her other hand. The headache would probably still stay if she let go, but that hadn't been enough. He was fighting through that. She had to find something else.

You're almost certain to be able to find something you can use. That was what Vincent had said during training. But as hard as she tried to focus – which wasn't easy with the way the boy's fists were flying – there didn't seem to be anything else. A few cuts and bruises, the odd cold here and there, but nothing—

Suddenly, something slammed into the boy's side, and the weight came off her chest. Iola was on top of the boy, her movements a bit clumsy, but a knife in her hand. The knife. She had given Fae the knife.

Where was Fae?

There wasn't time to worry about that now. Iola held the knife to the boy's throat. "Are there any more of you?" she demanded as Kiara hurried to her side, helping her pin the boy down.

The boy shook his head as much as he dared, considering the way the knife was pressing against his throat. "Please." His voice was thin, shaky. Terrified. "Please, I just wanted some supplies. I didn't want to hurt her."

Kiara glared. "You had her by the throat. You would have killed me."

"I thought—"

Before he could finish the sentence, the knife slashed across his throat. There was an odd gurgling sound, and Kiara sprang back as blood spurted from the wound. Her stomach churned as she fought back the urge to fix it, to heal him. It would be easy. So easy. Iola dropped the knife and staggered backwards, as if even she was surprised by what she'd done. She shook her head, confused.

"He did something."

Iola Boman, 19

"He did something."

Iola didn't hear her own words, but she saw understanding pass over Kiara's face as the boy went still. There had been something … off … about her thoughts, as if the idea of killing him hadn't quite been hers. There had been a part of her that had wanted to, of course. He'd attacked Fae, and he'd been about to kill Kiara. But she'd wanted him to answer some questions first, even if only the other two would be able to hear the answers. But the thought – the idea – of slitting his throat had been so overwhelming.

Suddenly, Kiara was glancing around frantically. It didn't take Iola long to figure out why. Fae. Fae was gone. Shit. Iola turned around, searching for any motion in the darkness, but the sudden movement brought her to her knees. Kiara helped catch her and lower her gently to the ground. Even as she did, Iola caught something moving out of the corner of her eye – something moving quickly, running away. She pointed, and Kiara sprang to her feet, ready to take off after Fae.

But she didn't. She turned to Iola, her mouth open for a second before realizing it wouldn't do any good, her eyes pleading, begging for … what? Permission? Understanding? Henry had run off earlier, but that was different. It didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever the boy had done to her to make her think about killing him, he had probably done something to make Fae run away. She wasn't in control of herself – not really. Henry had made their own choice; Fae hadn't.

Iola nodded. "Go."

That one word was all it took. Kiara ran off after Fae, leaving her behind without a second thought. Iola took a deep breath. Okay. Following them wasn't an option, and if she went somewhere else, they might never find each other again. She would have to stay here.

With a dead body.

Great.

Okay. First things first. Iola took a deep breath, braced herself, and rolled the body over so that it was face-down instead. That was a little better, but there was still a pool of blood. After a moment, she moved the supplies away from the body, closer to the lake in case she needed to refill a water bottle. She certainly didn't want to go any farther than she had to. Even going that far had made her dizzy. Going any farther – or especially going after Fae and Kiara – was out of the question. She would just have to wait until they came back.

If they came back.

Iola shook the thought from her head. Of course they would come back. Fae just needed a chance to calm down, to get her head on straight. Once Kiara talked some sense into her, she would come back.

But Henry hadn't.

Iola closed her eyes for a moment, trying to block out the spinning. Trying to ignore the sensation that everything was rocking, spiraling out of control. Henry had taken some of the supplies. Fae and Kiara hadn't. That meant they would be back, if they wanted food and water and the rest of the supplies. It was that simple. It had to be.

She wasn't sure what she planned to do if it wasn't.

Vincent Reid, 28

They hadn't planned for any of this.

Vincent glanced down at what Maria had written in the notebook Alvin had brought. Ian said Ansel probably inspired her to leave. "Makes sense," he mumbled, shaking his head. It made sense, but that didn't make it any better. Henry, Iola, Fae … they were all his contestants, and now their alliance had been torn apart.

Ansel had given them a little nudge, but maybe it had been inevitable all along. From what Ian had said before, Ansel didn't seem to have much control over what he inspired people to do, but it stood to reason that it would probably be easier to inspire people to do something they wanted to do – or at least were inclined to do – anyway. Iola had probably wanted to kill him. Fae had probably wanted to run.

He certainly would have wanted to.

But running wasn't an option – not for him, and certainly not for Iola, who seemed to have decided that it was best to stay and wait for the others. That made sense; there wasn't much reason to go anywhere else, it would make it easier for the other two to find her again, and she had access to plenty of water. The only problem was, she was still pretty close to Ansel's group. When they woke up and found him missing, what would they do? What would Liv do?

On the other hand, it wasn't as if they would have any real clues about where to look. They would be flying blind, and while they might just happen to strike out in the right direction, the odds were against it. In fact, the odds seemed to be stacked against anyone trying to find anyone else.

That was certainly something Rick and Vi were finding out the hard way. After heading off initially in the direction of the lightning – east, the direction that Savannah, Lilith, and Coburn had been in – they'd quickly realized they didn't have much to go by now that the lightning was gone. And while they'd been going in more or less the same direction, the fact that the group they were tracking had decided to head south had completely escaped their attention.

Maybe that was for the best, though, as far as they were concerned. They'd proven they were willing to kill, yes, but rocks, knives, and mallets weren't going to do them much good if they caught up with someone who could shoot lightning or fire at them from a distance. All their weapons were ones that needed to be used at close range.

As were the weapons he had suggested they learn how to use. Vincent shook his head as the cameras caught Frederick fiddling with the pistol tucked in his pocket. It hadn't even occurred to him to suggest that they train with something that could be used at a distance. He'd assumed there wouldn't be anything that had a bit of range, short of throwing the knives they'd found. They hadn't planned on Seb materializing pistols out of thin air. Or a house, for that matter. Or beer.

Maybe they should have seen that coming. Of course, when someone could make practically anything appear, it would be impossible to prepare for everything they might decide to make, but weapons should probably have occurred to someone. But they hadn't been thinking along those lines. From what they'd been able to gather about Seb before the MAAB had collected the contestants, he'd seemed like someone who would be more inclined to use his power to make food and simply try to stay the hell away from everyone else as long as possible.

And maybe he would have, if it weren't for Alphonso giving him a little nudge here and there. Vincent glanced over at Ian, who was shaking his head, watching as Alphonso tried to rouse Seb, who had passed out after … what? Too many drinks? Misspelling a word? Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, Vincent would have been inclined to let him just sleep it off, but maybe Alphonso wanted more pizza or something. He certainly didn't seem to be worried about anyone attacking them, unlike Frederick. That was probably why he had left, although it could simply be because he was annoyed with the two younger boys.

Fortunately for them, there didn't seem to be anyone else in the area who was interested in attacking them. Florence, Emery, and Kenji had headed in the opposite direction. Marcus and Manaka were much farther north, and Savannah, Coburn, and Lilith were still headed south. All in all, the contestants were pretty spread out.

Vincent leaned back in his chair, blinking hard. Staring at the screens for too long was starting to make him dizzy. Maybe he was just tired. It was almost three in the morning.

Maria gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Vincent glanced over at the notebook. Going to get some rest. Ian will wake us if anything happens.

Vincent nodded and stood up, immediately regretting how quickly he'd done so. He reached out to steady himself, but missed the table entirely, nearly collapsing. He probably would have if Maria hadn't caught him, easing him back down into the chair as Ian and Penelope rushed over, probably asking if he was okay. Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, trying to stop the room from spinning, trying to ignore the worried looks on their faces. They couldn't afford to worry about him right now. They needed to…

What? Sure, they could sit here and watch the screens, but it wasn't as if they could really do anything to change what was going on. It was either worry about their contestants or worry about him, and at least there was something they could do to help him. Vincent opened his eyes, glanced around at the three of them, and nodded. "Okay, let's try that again."

He stood up slower this time. The room was still spinning, but not as much, as Ian helped him over to one of the beds on the other side of the room. Vincent sank down onto the bed, gripping the sides tightly, grateful that the room wasn't, in fact, very big. Ian quickly jotted something in the notebook. I'll wake you up if something happens.

Vincent nodded, but there was a part of him that couldn't help wondering why – why they were still on the edge of their seats, waiting for the next thing to happen. Last year, things had been different. There had been the question of whether the Games would work, whether the contestants would really do as they were instructed. Now … Now it wasn't a matter of if. It was just a matter of when. And whether they were sitting there watching the screens or not, the same thing would happen.

But he nodded anyway, because despite that, there was a part of him that would want Ian to wake him when something happened – even though he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do about it. Because right now, all they had was information. All they could do was watch, and wait, and know what was going on. That was something. It wasn't much, maybe, but it was what they had.

Still, he couldn't help wondering how long they could keep it up. Last year's Games had only been a few days, and they'd all been exhausted by the end after the late nights, early mornings, and waking up at odd hours because something had happened. Well, he and Maria, at least. Ian didn't need sleep, but Vincent had no doubt he'd still been exhausted – maybe not physically, but mentally.

And that had been after only a few days. The way things were shaping up this year, these Games would be longer. Maybe a lot longer. Whether the MAAB had planned it that way, he wasn't sure, but the contestants were already very spread out. At this rate, it could be days before any of them found each other again. It could be weeks before the Games were over.

Maybe that would be enough time for whatever Anita was planning.

"I merely offer a sample of what you planned for me."