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Colonel Judah Burgess, 52
March 22nd, 08:56 MST

It had almost worked.

Judah shook his head as he watched the screens, watched the snow falling, covering Rick and Vi in a thin layer that was slowly becoming thicker. Both had passed out from the pain – or possibly a combination of the pain and the painkillers – a little while ago, but that showed no signs of slowing down the storm. Which made sense, considering how long it had taken the storms during training to dissipate even once Rick's collar had been turned on. Only Liv's efforts had kept the storm from spreading further to the south. To the north, it had almost caught up to Marcus and Manaka.

Almost. They were still ahead of it, and would probably stay that way for a little while, at least. Unbeknownst to them, however, they were getting closer and closer to the boundary. Maybe they wouldn't reach it today, but possibly the next day, if they kept going at this rate. Sooner, perhaps, if they sped up.

They were the only ones who were close, which was probably to be expected. They could move the fastest, after all. But several of the other groups were also heading in any direction they thought might lead to shelter. For Kylena and Jaime, that meant back towards the tunnels where the Games had started. Emery, Florence, and Kenji were heading for one of the nearer slopes. Frederick was heading in the same direction, but slowly; his chances of catching up to anyone right now were pretty slim. Elena, Liv, and Lee were heading south, but not very quickly now that they'd realized the storm wasn't heading in their direction.

Meanwhile, Henry hadn't budged from their position at the foot of a mountain. Kiara, Iola, and Fae had given up on trying to outrun the storm, settling for spreading out their sleeping bag and huddling together beneath it. Seb and Alphonso hadn't moved since Seb had written the house into existence. Elio and Lea, who were even farther south than Liv's group, had stopped for breakfast, content to watch the clouds from a distance. Coburn and Savannah were tending to Lilith. Rick and Vi were still nearby, but neither group was really prepared for another confrontation.

Judah shook his head. They'd had the right idea – Sybil, Rick, Vi. The ones he'd been working with. They'd been willing to fight. Willing to kill. But now Sybil was dead, and Rick and Vi were injured. All because they'd gone after the wrong targets. Henry had just been too strong for Sybil. And if Vi and Rick had known that they were going after not one, but two contestants who could shoot at them from a distance…

Then what? Would they have done anything differently? Would it have made any difference if it was just Savannah, rather than both of them? Sure, Coburn was the one who had shot flames at them, but it could just as easily have been the other way around. It could have been lightning instead, and then they would probably be dead, rather than just burned.

Burned and completely clueless. Exposing a burn to freezing cold was pretty much the worst thing they could have done. Sure, it would ease the pain in the short run, but it would damage the skin even more. If they'd taken the time to learn a little basic first aid, they might have known that. But they hadn't, because they'd been working with him, instead. They hadn't really considered doing both; no one had. There hadn't been enough time.

Even if there had, of course, and even if they had known better, it wasn't as if Rick had made a conscious choice to make it snow. He'd admitted himself that he couldn't control it; the weather was just responding to his emotions. Right now, it was responding to pain. There was so much energy there, so much raw power. If he could actually control it, learn to channel it, how many of the other contestants would stand a chance?

Judah shook the thought from his head. The fact of the matter was, Rick couldn't control it, and wasn't likely to learn how to do so now. They'd picked the wrong group to attack. Maybe they should have gone after a weaker target. But they could only do that for so long. They'd attacked a pair of younger kids at the start of the Games, but they couldn't just keep doing that forever. There weren't enough easy targets for that. Eventually, they had to step up their game, try to take out some of the stronger threats. Which was what they had been trying to do.

But it hadn't worked. Maybe it couldn't have worked. Maybe he'd been kidding himself all along. Maybe a little training just wasn't a match – never could be a match – for some of these mutants' powers.

"Judah?"

Judah looked up from the screens. When had Nicholas come in? "Sorry, what?"

"I asked what you would think about turning Vi's collar off. The way things are looking now—"

"No."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "That was awfully quick. May I ask why not?"

"Because there's no one else around," Judah lied. "If we turn it off now, who does his bad luck affect? Him and Rick. That's it. I'd say they're in a bad enough position without adding bad luck into the mix. What more could happen?"

"There is another group in the area," Nicholas pointed out.

"Who are in a bad enough position of their own," Judah agreed. "Lilith's dying, and without her, it's only a matter of time before one of the others loses control. They don't need bad luck to keep things moving right now. Besides, each of their groups already knows where the other is. That's when bad luck would be useful – if they didn't know, and just happened to find each other. But there aren't any other groups close enough for bad luck to just draw them in, if that's even how it works."

"Not sure how it works, really," Nicholas admitted. "You've had that collar turned on since he got here, so we haven't had much of a chance to figure that out."

Judah nodded. "And it's kept him motivated, hasn't it? You think he and Rick would have gone after Joseph and Alannah at the start of the Games if the threat of turning Vi's collar off hadn't been hanging over their heads? Once we turn it off, we can't use it as leverage anymore. We should wait until the right moment, if we plan to turn it off at all."

"If? You weren't planning to?"

Judah shrugged. "Not as long as he keeps playing along. And if he and Rick manage to survive these injuries without anyone finding them and taking advantage of their position, it's only a matter of time before they'll be back in the game. They're more useful to us if they're motivated. We play our hand, and that motivation is gone."

Nicholas nodded. "All right. Your call."

It was Judah's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because you found him, brought him here, made him an offer. Yes, you asked for permission, but it was your idea. Your plan."

"My responsibility if it goes wrong."

"You think it will?"

"No. Not for us. If the Games going viral didn't turn things against us, I don't think anything will. That ship has sailed. The Games will keep going, and I don't think there's anything Vi could do to stop it, even if he had a mind to. But I am curious about what it'll mean for the future of the Games."

"What do you mean?"

"I was hoping he would do a bit better," Judah admitted. "I was hoping that if he did well enough, it might encourage future contestants to be more prepared for the Games. Maybe even jump at the opportunity to be in them, like he did."

"You think people would want to participate?"

"Vi did."

"He didn't know what he was volunteering for. He just knew you were offering the chance to be free of his power."

"Exactly. I think there are some other mutants who would want that."

"Even knowing the risk?"

"Even knowing the risk. Maybe even because of the risk. One way or the other, his bad luck is gone – either because he'll be able to wear a collar, or because he'll be dead. Either way, whatever suffering his power has caused him is over. I think there are probably some others who would take that deal."

"And you think we should let them?"

"I don't see why not. Sure, it adds an element of unpredictability. It means we wouldn't necessarily have all of our contestants hand-picked beforehand. But that hasn't really caused any problems this year. Hell, our other surprise contestant just made his first kill."

"Wasn't too happy about it," Nicholas pointed out.

Judah shrugged. "He doesn't have to be happy about it. He just has to be willing to do it again, if it means surviving. And I think he will be – if not for himself, then for the people he's working with. Well, person he's working with, really. Once Lilith's out of the equation…"

"She's not dead yet."

"With those injuries? In this weather? She will be soon. The only person who might be able to heal her now is nowhere nearby and has no reason to help even if she were. So unless Coburn or Savannah has some sort of healing abilities we don't know about…"

"So you don't think we should…?" Nicholas trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air, but his meaning was clear. They had planned for something like this. With the Games more spread out than last year, they were almost certain to last longer, which meant more injuries. If too many of the contestants died days after they had been injured, or succumbed to the elements or hunger or thirst, they wouldn't get the results they really wanted.

Judah shook his head. "It wouldn't help."

"Not her, but Rick and Vi. Henry, maybe."

"I still think we should wait. Wait for the right moment, when we could draw the most people in. They won't want to venture far in a storm like this."

"True," Nicholas agreed. "Still, something to keep in mind."

Judah nodded. He understood what Nicholas had been offering him. Stepping in now would disproportionately help Rick and Vi. While that would be a good thing, perhaps, for the purposes of keeping the Games moving, they weren't here to play favorites. Not really. The contestants had to live or die based on their own wits, their own successes and failures, their own battles, or this would stop being a fight to the death and turn into something else entirely. No, if Rick and Vi were going to get out of this, they would have to do it on their own.

They would have to earn it.

Marcus Del Rio, 19

"I think we've earned another break."

Marcus slowed a little as Manaka nodded his agreement. The pair of them slowed to a stop beside the small river they'd been following northeast. It wasn't much, but it was enough to refill their water bottles whenever they'd needed it. The water was cold – almost freezing – but that was better than the snowstorm that still lay behind them. It seemed to be moving in their direction, but it wasn't moving very fast. Definitely not as quickly as they were. They could probably outrun it quite a while longer, if not indefinitely. Certainly long enough for it to die down a bit.

The other contestants probably wouldn't be so lucky. "Maybe that'll help narrow the field a bit," Marcus suggested, nodding towards the storm. Manaka nodded, but said nothing. Clearly, he didn't want to think about the other contestants freezing to death. And it wasn't as if Marcus enjoyed the thought, either, but it was better than the idea of having to kill the others themselves. And definitely better than the thought of them dying.

"Would they really just let that happen?" Manaka asked quietly after a moment.

Marcus shrugged. "You mean the MAAB?"

"Yeah."

"Not sure what choice they have, unless they plan to drop a couple dozen heated blankets on us or something. They can't stop the weather. If they didn't want people freezing to death, maybe they shouldn't have picked somewhere so damn cold."

Manaka nodded, and Marcus couldn't help noticing that he was shivering. Maybe the snow hadn't caught up to them, but it was still cold. "Maybe we could try building another fire," Marcus suggested. "In this weather, I doubt anyone would be able to see it, even if there is anyone close enough."

"Which there probably isn't," Manaka agreed. "You think there's enough wood here?"

Marcus nodded. There were a few trees around, which meant there would probably be enough branches within reach. It wouldn't be a roaring bonfire or anything, but with any luck, it would be enough to keep them warm. Maybe it would even draw in an animal or two for them to catch. They hadn't had any luck since the rodent they'd caught the day before. Sure, they still had plenty of food in their backpacks, but a little variety wouldn't hurt. And the more they caught on their own, the longer it would be before they ran out.

It didn't take long to collect enough wood for a small fire. It did take a while to light it, but not nearly as long as it had last time. Maybe he really was getting the hang of this. Of course, it probably helped that both he and Manaka could rub sticks together faster than most people could. More friction meant more fire. Or at least it meant getting a fire sooner.

The two of them settled down beside the flames, huddled beneath their blankets. After a moment, Marcus dug through one of the packs, pulled out the bag of trail mix, took a handful, and passed it to Manaka. "Probably about lunchtime," he decided.

Manaka glanced down at the watch. "Almost nine thirty."

Marcus cocked his head. "Really?" It seemed later. Of course, it didn't help that it was hard to see the sun through the clouds that had gathered, or that it was darker than it would usually be in the morning because of the storm. Still, it felt like they had been running longer than that.

Manaka nodded. "Unless the watch is off. We don't really know if it's affected by what we do to time, so it might be a bit off by now."

Marcus shrugged. Maybe it didn't matter what time it was. As long as they ate when they were hungry, rested when they were tired, and kept moving at a reasonable pace, did it really matter if they could keep track of time? For that matter, why had the MAAB included watches in the packs to begin with? Sure, they were nice for keeping track of how long one person had been awake at night so they could wake the other one to keep watch, but in the grand scheme of things, there were certainly more useful supplies they could have chosen. Sort of like the mallet. Yeah, it had been handy for hitting the rodent on the head, but couldn't they have picked a more useful weapon for fighting?

Of course they could have. They could have picked something better, something more useful. They could have provided matches or maybe even a little camp stove. But they hadn't, just like they hadn't provided any better weapons. They were expecting the contestants to fend for themselves, without any help. And so far, the two of them were doing pretty well, but he couldn't help wondering how long that would last, how long they could push their luck.

How long before something happened?

Henry Helstrom, 14

Something must have happened.

Henry shivered as they shook themself awake. They didn't remember falling asleep, but it must have happened sometime during the night. A golem was still keeping watch by their side, but it was covered in a layer of snow. Henry brushed the snow off what was left of their jacket, careful not to move their shoulder too much. Then they dug out the bottle of pills and took a few more.

That helped with the pain, but it was still cold. As carefully as they could, Henry slid the extra shirt that had been in the girl's pack over the one they were already wearing. They'd already put on the extra pair of socks and the earmuffs, and they quickly put on one of the extra hats, as well. That was a little bit better, and there had been a tarp in the girl's backpack that would help keep off some of the snow, but they were definitely starting to wish they hadn't torn up their jacket.

But the girl's body was still there. She'd had a jacket. Henry's stomach churned at the thought. There was blood all over the jacket, but at least it seemed to be mostly in one piece, as long as they could get it off. And it was getting colder. There was no telling how long it would keep snowing. They would need all the warmth they could get.

Okay. Slowly, Henry stood up and made their way over to the girl's body. They could try to get the golem to do it, but it might rip the jacket even more in the process. They were lucky it had been able to bandage their shoulder properly earlier. Well, more or less properly. Certainly better than Henry would have been able to do on their own. Having another person around to do it would be better, but…

Stop it. There wasn't anyone else. Not anymore. Not after what they'd done, after the choice they'd made. Henry knelt down by the girl's body and began to peel off her jacket, which was blue underneath the red blood. Bits of flesh and clumps of blood came off along with the jacket, and it was all Henry could do to keep from turning away and vomiting again. Breathe. Once they got the jacket off, they could just leave the body alone, and the snow would cover it.

Was that what the MAAB was going to do? Just leave the bodies there? That didn't seem right, somehow. Henry shook their head. Right. They didn't exactly have much room to talk, considering they were stealing clothes from a corpse. They wiped some of the blood from the jacket off on the snow, but it was mostly dry by now. Henry slid the jacket on, carefully avoiding bumping their injured arm. The jacket was just about the right size. It felt … strange, but not as strange as they'd expected. It was just a jacket, after all. It wasn't as if they'd taken something personal. And it wasn't as if the girl was going to use it anymore.

Besides, she'd attacked them. She would have done the same thing, if she'd won the fight. If she'd killed them. She would have looted through their bag, taken their jacket, made the most of the supplies they'd been carrying. Once they made it out of here, they could worry about whether they'd done the right thing. Right now, they didn't have that luxury.

Right now, they just had to survive.

Lilith Haywood, 23

She wasn't going to survive this.

Lilith couldn't help a groan as Coburn poured some more water into her mouth. At least it wasn't freezing; that was something. Coburn had warmed it up a bit, and was letting off a little fire every now and then to keep the three of them warm. In this weather, he didn't seem to be worried about giving away their position. Anyone close enough to see the flames through the snow probably already knew where they were. And the group that had attacked them was probably long gone.

If they had any sense, that was. Which wasn't a guarantee. What had they been thinking, sending one person in a bubble to attack the three of them, when they already knew that one of them could shoot lightning? They'd been expecting some sort of an attack, yes, but they'd been expecting more than one person. And there had been more than one, so why had only one person attacked?

Maybe the others had been too afraid. Maybe they had been hoping to use their powers from a distance. And at least one of them had, if she was right about where the pain had come from after Savannah had shot lightning at the girl in the bubble. That was the only explanation, really, for why the girl had still been able to come after her. Someone had taken the pain she should have been feeling and shifted it to the three of them. It hadn't been enough to save the girl's life, but it had given her the opportunity she'd needed to stab Lilith.

Lilith drew another shaky breath as she watched Savannah pace back and forth, tiny bolts of lightning flickering from her fingertips. She was trying to keep it under control, but it was only a matter of time before something happened, and Lilith didn't have the strength to help her. She barely had the strength to keep her own eyes open. Lilith gave Coburn's hand a squeeze as he poured some more water into her mouth. He squeezed back, warmth flowing through her hand and into her arm.

Warmth, but no fire. Maybe the snow and the cold were helping him keep a lid on his powers. Good. That would help them for a little while, at least. "You're going to have to help each other," Lilith said quietly, "if you want to survive this."

Coburn opened his mouth to object. Maybe to insist that she wasn't going to die. But surely even he realized how ridiculous that would sound now. Despite the others' best efforts, blood was still seeping through the bandages, staining the snow around her. Finally, Coburn nodded. "We will."

"Good." Together, the two of them stood a chance. Maybe they had always been the ones who would really stand a chance. She had offered to help both of them, but maybe she had always known that that they would be the ones to make it farther, that she was really just there to help them along the way. It didn't seem fair, after all she'd done, after how hard she'd tried to help them, but it wasn't their fault. There was nothing they could have done.

There was nothing anyone could have done.

Savannah Kingston, 19

She wished there was something she could have done.

Savannah paced back and forth in the snow as Coburn knelt by Lilith's side. It wasn't fair. She'd done nothing but help the two of them since the start of the Games. Why had the girl chosen to go after Lilith, rather than one of the two who actually posed a threat to her? Sure, she probably hadn't known what Coburn could do, but she'd known that Savannah had shot the lightning bolts. And she had still gone after Lilith instead. Sure, Lilith had been lying a little closer, but still…

Maybe she had known. Maybe she had known that Lilith was the only reason she'd been able to shoot the lightning bolts straight at her. Maybe she could tell that Lilith had been helping her focus her power, and that without her…

Savannah clenched her fists tightly. She couldn't lose control now. Not now that there was nowhere for them to go if she gave away their position. They couldn't risk moving Lilith, and the snow was getting thicker. Coburn could keep them warm, but that didn't mean they would be able to see where they were going in the storm. No, it was better to stay put. But in order to do that, they had to stay hidden. Which meant she had to keep her lightning under control.

But would anyone really be looking for lightning in this weather? And even if they saw it, would they really come after the three of them? Sure, the group that had just attacked was proof that some people would charge in ready to fight them, but considering how that had turned out, the other group wasn't likely to come back.

Or at least, she hoped they weren't. Savannah rubbed her hands together. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, it was leaving fear and exhaustion and the memory of the pain that had coursed through her body when her lightning had struck the other girl. One of the others must have redirected that pain, and from the way Lilith and Coburn had reacted, they'd directed it at all three of them. Savannah shuddered, imagining someone feeling the same pain she had felt, only three times worse. Was that what it felt like to get struck by one of her lightning bolts?

Savannah glanced over at the girl's body, which they'd moved off to the side. They'd taken the knife she was carrying – the knife she'd used to stab Lilith – but otherwise had done their best to ignore the body. The front of her jacket was charred where the lightning had struck her. Savannah looked away. She had done that. She had caused that.

But what choice had she had? She had been quick to tell Coburn that he'd done what he had to when he'd killed their attacker. She'd done the same thing. She'd been trying to protect her friends, trying to protect herself. But it hadn't been enough. She hadn't been able to stop the other contestants from shooting the pain right back at her. She hadn't been able to stop the girl with the knife from stabbing Lilith. She hadn't even been able to stop Lilith from bleeding to death.

Well, not quite to death. Not yet. But she could practically see Lilith's face growing paler by the second. Finally, Savannah took a few careful steps closer to where Coburn was sitting by Lilith's side, keeping her distance in case the lightning decided to flare out farther. "How's she doing?" Savannah asked quietly.

Coburn shook his head. "She fell asleep a few minutes ago. She's still breathing, and still got a pulse, but…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Unless they did something soon, Lilith would die. But what were they supposed to do? Even if they were doctors, they didn't have the sort of supplies they needed. She wasn't even sure what they would need. Maybe…

"Isn't there something you can do with fire?" she asked. "To stop a wound from bleeding?"

Coburn's forehead wrinkled with thought. "I think so? But I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"I think … I think you're supposed to heat something, and … hold it against the wound?" Savannah shook her head, unsure. That sounded right, but it also sounded painful. If Lilith really was going to die either way, maybe it was better to just make her comfortable. But that felt like giving up. She didn't want to give up…

Coburn reached for something. The knife that the girl had stabbed Lilith with. "Something like this?" he asked.

"Maybe." Metal sounded right. But holding it against the wound meant undoing some of the bandages. That didn't seem like the right thing to do. But if the bandages weren't stopping the bleeding…

"Okay," Savannah agreed, kneeling down beside the two of them. "We try it with one of the wounds, and if it works, we try it on the other. If it doesn't…"

"Then we don't," Coburn finished. It sounded simple. Maybe it was simple. But it still felt wrong. It felt desperate. But they were desperate. There wasn't anything else to try.

What else were they supposed to do?

Coburn Hughes, 17

What else were they supposed to do?

Coburn held the knife hesitantly as Savannah undid some of the bandages around Lilith's stomach. They were all soaked with blood. He hadn't realized the human body had that much blood in it. How much blood could a person lose and survive? Maybe they did have to do something quickly. But neither of them really knew what they were doing. What if they ended up making things worse?

But how much worse could they get? Lilith was dying. She would die if she lost enough blood. There wasn't really anything worse than that. Coburn took a deep breath and lit a flame, then held the knife close, heating it. How was he supposed to know when it was hot enough? Coburn held the knife closer, then a little closer. Finally, it started glowing red. "Think that's hot enough?" he asked Savannah.

Savannah nodded. "Probably." There was reluctance in her voice. "Look, maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

If you don't do it now, you won't get another chance. Coburn glanced around, startled. He was almost certain he'd heard a voice, but there was no one else there. No one else who could be there. Stop it. If he said anything now, he would make the MAAB suspicious. Coburn drew a deep breath and pressed the knife against the wound. Lilith didn't even let out a sound. Try again. He pressed it down again, then once more. Then waited. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. Was it really that simple?

Maybe. Maybe not. Coburn took a deep breath and removed the bandages around the other wound. He heated the knife a little more, then pressed it against the wound. Finally, the bleeding stopped. Coburn doused the knife in the snow as Savannah began retying the bandages. "Nice work," she offered.

Coburn nodded. "Thanks." But he couldn't help the feeling that something was wrong. That should have hurt. That much pain should have woken Lilith, but there had been nothing. Not a scream, not a moan, not even a whimper. She was still out of it, her breathing ragged, her skin pale and clammy. Maybe some of that was the cold, but he couldn't help the feeling that they'd been too late. If they had done something sooner…

But they hadn't. It was too late to do anything else now. All they could do was wait and hope that she would come around. If she didn't…

Then what? How long were they supposed to stay here with her? Coburn shuddered at the thought. It wasn't as if they could just leave her. But if she didn't wake up…

No. No, he was getting ahead of himself. They could wait. It wasn't as if they had anywhere else to be. The storm meant most of the contestants would probably stay put wherever they were, even if they were in a condition to travel. And what were the chances that anyone else was even in the same area? Most likely, the only people around were the contestants who had attacked them, and if they knew what was good for them, they wouldn't be coming back.

If they knew what was good for them. Coburn clenched his fists, which were still warm despite the falling snow. He had already killed one of them, and he was pretty sure he'd hit the others with his fire as they were running away. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone. He still didn't. But if it was a choice between him hurting them and them hurting him, or them hurting his friends, it wasn't much of a choice at all.

You did what you had to do. Coburn took a deep breath, his gaze straying to the girl's body nearby. He had done that. He had killed her. Sure, she would probably have died anyway, considering how hard Savannah had hit her with her lightning bolts, but he had been the one to deal the killing blow. He had wrapped his hands around her neck and burned her. He wasn't sure whether it was the fire or the lack of air that had killed her. He didn't want to know. She had tried to kill Lilith, and now she was dead.

Maybe it really was that simple.

Kiara Moore, 15

The storm had made things simple pretty fast.

Kiara huddled close to Fae and Iola as the three of them sat together under the sleeping bag. Outside, the snow was growing thicker, and the wind was beginning to pick up. They'd been trying to head north, but it hadn't taken them long to decide they were better off waiting out the storm. They certainly weren't going to be able to outrun it, and it showed no signs of dying down anytime soon.

Kiara drew a deep breath. The air was cold, but the other two provided at least some body heat. It was hard to see anything under the sleeping bag, but she was pretty sure Iola was stroking Fae's hair, trying to keep her calm. No one had said anything for a while, but nothing really needed to be said. They were alive. They were together. Right now, that was what mattered. It was all that mattered. They could worry about the rest later.

Later. Assuming there was a later. Assuming the three of them didn't freeze to death out here. What would the MAAB do if that happened – if the contestants started dropping dead from the cold rather than because they were killing each other? Maybe a few of the contestants had powers that would keep them warm, but that wouldn't make for very satisfying footage for the public to see. A bunch of mutants freezing to death in the wilderness wasn't very exciting. But it was what they were going to get if they didn't do something soon.

Kiara clenched her fists tightly. That was their problem. If they didn't get enough footage of mutants fighting because they were all caught in a damn snowstorm, they would just have to deal with that. It wasn't her problem. Her problem was making sure their group was the one that survived the storm. They probably weren't the only group with a sleeping bag to cover themselves with, so they would have to do better than that. Once the storm cleared enough for them to start moving again, they would have to find some better shelter.

The trouble was, she had no idea where to start looking. They could head for the mountains, but they couldn't really be certain there was any shelter there. If they settled down on one side, it could protect them from the wind blowing from the opposite direction, but it wouldn't shield them from the snow. They'd found a tree here and there, but not enough to build any sort of shelter out of.

If it snowed enough, maybe they could make an igloo, but that would have to be a lot of snow. And the snow didn't seem particularly thick. It probably wouldn't pack very well. Maybe if they found two trees close enough together, they could string the sleeping bag up like a makeshift tent. They did have some rope. Or maybe…

Kiara tensed. There was one place they could be certain there was shelter. The tunnels where the Games had started could offer some shelter from the snow. If they could set up the sleeping bag over the entrance, they could hide in there. It would probably be warmer.

But there were two problems with that – big ones. First, the MAAB had said at the start of the Games that if they reentered the tunnels, their collars would reactivate. Their powers wouldn't work. Maybe that wasn't such a big deal for Iola; if they were hiding in a tunnel, it didn't really matter what shape she took. And it meant that Fae wouldn't be able to make anyone go deaf while they were inside the tunnels, which wasn't so bad. But it also meant she wouldn't be able to heal either of them if something happened.

Even that might not have been such a big deal if not for the other problem: some of the other contestants might have had the same idea. It wouldn't take long for the others to figure out that the tunnels might be a good place to take shelter, if they hadn't found somewhere better. They might not be the only ones there if they headed back, and they weren't really in any condition to fight.

So she said nothing. If the idea hadn't occurred to either of the others, then there was no point in bringing it up. Or maybe they had thought of it, and come to the same conclusion she had. Or maybe they just figured there was no point in mentioning it until the storm cleared enough that they would be able to go anywhere. For now, there wasn't much they could do.

But eventually, they would have to make a choice.

Emery Mullins, 15

For now, there wasn't much of a choice.

Emery wrapped her wolf form tightly around Kenji and Florence, who had taken bat form in the hopes that it would be warmer. Emery was certainly grateful that she had fur, but Kenji was shivering even with his jacket. The rock face they were resting beside shielded them from some of the wind, but the snow was still falling, and showed no sign of stopping. Running as fast as they could had brought them this far, but there was no going anywhere else in this weather. The best they could do was take shelter and hope that it would clear soon. If it didn't…

Emery shut her eyes. It had to. The snow had to stop eventually. Even a freak storm like this, which had come up without any real warning, couldn't last forever. Even if, as seemed likely, it had actually been caused by one of the other contestants, they couldn't keep it up forever. Eventually, they would have to rest.

She just hoped it would be soon enough.

Emery nuzzled Kenji gently, not sure whether it was a better idea to let him sleep or help him stay awake. On the one hand, if he fell asleep and drifted into the future again, he might be able to tell them what happened, when the snow would stop falling, and what might be the best path to take afterwards. Maybe. But what if he woke up again and told them that one of them had died? What were they supposed to do then?

Figure out how to avoid it. That was the obvious answer. But they didn't exactly have many options right now. They could either stay put or head somewhere else, hoping to find a better shelter. But there weren't likely to be any better options than what they had found here. They'd briefly considered heading back to the tunnels where the Games had started, but they'd been heading in the same direction, more or less, for the better part of two days now. In this weather, would they really make it back to the tunnels?

Kenji probably could, but he'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to leave them. And that was probably for the best, anyway. If he left, he would have no one to protect him. Yes, he was fast, but that wouldn't do him any good if he came across someone who had the element of surprise, someone who could kill him faster than he would be able to notice them. In order to run away from danger, after all, he had to know the danger was there.

No, it was better for all of them if they stayed together. So heading back to the tunnels wasn't really an option. But what other choice did they have if the snow didn't let up soon?

Suddenly, Emery felt something growing beside her. Florence was shifting back to human form. She gave Kenji a nudge, and he opened his eyes and sat up a little. "What?" he asked, before remembering and signing the question instead.

Florence took a deep breath. "I think there might be a way to find some better shelter. Last night, when I was keeping watch, I saw some bats. If we can find where they're resting during the day, there might be some shelter. Maybe a cave or some other sort of hiding place."

Emery nodded, slowly shifting back to human form. That made sense. "But how are we supposed to find it?" she asked, and waited a moment while Kenji translated.

"If I can find the bats again, I might be able to follow them."

"I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to go anywhere in this storm," Emery pointed out. "Especially alone. Besides, how are you planning on finding the bats in this weather? If they do have somewhere to hide, that's probably where they are. Seems like a sort of chicken-or-the-egg thing. In order to find the bats so you can find their hiding place, you have to know where their hiding place is."

Kenji nodded, his hands moving quickly as he relayed what Emery had said. Florence nodded. "It was just a thought."

Kenji's forehead wrinkled, and then he signed something. Florence raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I've never tried that before."

"Tried what?" Emery asked.

"Tried to summon bats," Kenji explained. "It's something that vampires in movies can do, but I wasn't sure if it was a real thing or not."

"Probably not a thing you'd want to do very often," Emery pointed out.

Florence cocked her head as Kenji signed something. "It might work," she agreed. "And there's not really any harm in trying. She shrank back into bat form and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Or at least, nothing seemed to come out. Bats could do that, right? Make sounds too high-pitched for humans to hear? Emery concentrated, and her ears shifted to a wolf's ears. A series of squeaks and pinging noises filled her ears, so incessant that she quickly shifted back. Had all of those sounds come from Florence? Or were some of them the other bats responding?

For a moment, they all waited. Emery wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. Maybe a swarm of bats descending out of the sky, leading them to a cave. When nothing of the sort happened, she shrugged. Kenji shrugged. Florence gave a shrug with her little bat wings. It had been worth a try, at least, and it certainly hadn't hurt anything.

Maybe it would just take a little while.

Jaime Sanchez, 20

It would probably take a while to get there.

Jaime gasped for breath as they and Kylena finally slowed to a stop. "I don't think anyone's following us," they managed, removing one of the water bottles from their pack and taking a long drink.

"Probably not," Kylena agreed. "But we should keep going. This storm isn't going to get any better – not anytime soon, at least."

"You think it's Rick causing it?"

"Yeah." He'd told them that he could control the weather, but from the look of things, it was more like he could let the weather get out of control. "Probably trying to keep anyone from finding him and Vi," Kylena suggested.

Jaime shook their head. "You think they're still alive? They got burned pretty bad."

"Probably wouldn't kill them that quickly, even if it's going to," Kylena pointed out. "Not like lightning."

Not like Evelyn. Neither of them said it. Neither of them needed to. Makenzie was dead. Evelyn was dead. Both of them had been willing to fight. Evelyn had even been eager for a fight. And it hadn't been enough. It hadn't saved either of them. They'd been outmatched, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Maybe none of them stood a chance. Not against someone who could shoot lightning or fire. Not against someone who could melt everything they touched. Not against a vampire or a werewolf or someone who could move faster than they could blink. What good were bubbles against that? What good was being able to transfer pain? Neither of those things was a weapon – not really. Sure, the fact that Jaime had transferred Rick and Vi's pain back at their attackers had allowed them to escape, but that was all it was good for. Escaping. Eventually, they would have to do more than that. And when they did, they would die. Just like Evelyn. Just like Makenzie.

Damn it. Jaime took another drink of water. For a little while there, they'd really thought that maybe they had a chance. That maybe with five of them, strength in numbers would be able to make up for what they lacked in powers. Evelyn had made the plan sound so simple, they had really thought it had a chance of working.

Maybe there had never been a chance at all. Not against mutants who could do what the other group could. Jaime shook their head as they packed the water bottle back in their pack. "We don't really have a chance, do we," they said quietly.

Kylena looked up, surprised. "Of course we do. We're still alive, aren't we?"

"Only because we ran away. Evelyn is dead. Rick and Vi will probably be dead soon, especially if the other group catches up to them. We can't just keep running away from everybody. Eventually, someone'll catch up to us, and what are we supposed to do then?"

"We're supposed to fight."

"How?" Jaime snapped.

Kylena said nothing. There was nothing to say. They didn't even have any weapons. Evelyn had taken one of the boy's knives. The other still had his, but the two of them … They didn't have anything. "Maybe there are still weapons in the other backpacks," Kylena suggested at last.

Jaime shook their head. Would Rick and Vi really have left anything that could be useful behind? Probably not. But maybe it was better to let Kylena keep hoping, even if Jaime couldn't. "Maybe," they said noncommittally. "But even if there are, you saw how much good a knife did Evelyn."

"She killed one of them," Kylena pointed out.

"And then she died. Not exactly a great outcome."

"So we're going to have to be more careful."

Jaime nodded. Maybe 'careful' was a good place to start. Maybe not charging into a fight with someone who could shoot lightning bolts was a good place to start. What had they been thinking? What had Evelyn been thinking? She should have known better. They all should have.

Next time, they would know better. But how many 'next times' would there be? They had already lost Makenzie and Evelyn. Vi and Rick were gone. Elio and Lea were … somewhere. For all the silliness of their plan, at least they'd had the right idea when they'd decided to avoid the other contestants. But there had to be something in between, didn't there? Something that wasn't charging into every fight they could find but also wasn't running away from every chance to accomplish something.

Accomplish something. Kill someone. That was what they really meant. They couldn't pass up every chance to kill someone – not if they wanted to get out of here. But they also couldn't pretend that they had a chance against someone when they were clearly outmatched.

Jaime adjusted their backpack as the two of them set out again. They probably didn't have a chance at all, but they also didn't have a choice. They certainly weren't just going to sit around and wait for someone to come and kill them. So they would keep going. They would keep fighting. They would try to pick their battles, try to play smart, and try not to be too disappointed when ultimately, inevitably, they lost.

It was only a matter of time.

Seb Krause, 16

It was only a matter of time.

Seb leaned back in his chair, staring out the window at the snow. He'd traded shifts with Alphonso a few hours ago, and it was probably time to wake him, but he was enjoying the silence. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to just sit and think. Alphonso always seemed to want to be doing something, and that was all well and good and kept their minds off of the fact that they were in a fight to the death, but sometimes it was nice to have a little stillness.

Alphonso was never still. Even when he was sitting still, he was fidgeting, drumming his fingers, twirling his hair, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. It wasn't nervousness – not really. It was just energy. A sort of wild, playful energy that made him seem even younger than he was. Even now, lying in bed, he turned over every now and then, his fingers flickering this way and that as if playing with something, his lips twitching as if he was talking in his dream.

He probably was. Seb stared out the window at the snow, which had started at least an hour ago. There was quite a blanket of it on the ground now, and more falling quickly. He couldn't help a surge of pity for anyone who was stuck out there without shelter. Which was … well, probably quite a few of them, now that he thought about it. Certainly none of the others had a house.

Some of them might have something, of course. He hadn't really given much thought to what had been in the packs in the center of the circle at the start of the Games. All he'd needed was a pen, and he could make whatever he needed. Or whatever he and Alphonso wanted. They certainly hadn't needed a two-story house complete with beds, a table, plenty of chairs, lots of blankets, and more candle-lit lamps than they knew what to do with. But Alphonso had wanted this, and he … well, he had gone along with it.

And why not? It was already the third day of the Games, and no one had bothered them. Probably no one wanted to go after someone who could create anything they wanted. Seb smiled, glad he'd decided to show off what he could do during the talent show after all. It had pretty much guaranteed that people would leave him and Alphonso alone.

Come to think of it, that had been Alphonso's idea, hadn't it? Participating in the show. Well, it had been a pretty good idea, whoever's idea it had been. It meant they didn't have to deal with anyone coming after them – not right away, at least. Eventually, things would change. People would get desperate, or there would only be a handful of them left, and they would decide that it was time to take chances. But for now…

For now, they could wait. For now, they had everything they wanted, while the other contestants were stuck outside in a snowstorm. When it eventually did come to a fight, he and Alphonso would be ready. They would be well-fed and well-armed, while the others probably wouldn't be either of those things. Certainly the others wouldn't have guns, and they would only have what food they'd been able to find in the wilderness, or whatever had been in the packs. That probably wasn't much. The others wouldn't be ready. He and Alphonso would.

Seb twirled his pen in his fingers. He didn't feel ready. Not for a fight. But maybe that would happen when the time came. He didn't need to be ready for a fight right now. If anyone found them now, they would probably be stumbling in out of a snowstorm, half-frozen and starved. They probably wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight.

Probably. If their powers could keep them warm in this weather, after all, they probably weren't going to bother looking for shelter. Seb stood up, stretched, and headed for the kitchen. He should probably wake Alphonso soon, and he would want breakfast. Maybe pancakes today. Yes, that sounded good. Seb smiled. It wasn't just what would sound good to Alphonso. Pancakes sounded good to him. They certainly weren't something he needed, but right now, they were something he wanted.

And he was starting to feel like that mattered.

Vi Voclain, 18

It didn't matter what he did now.

Vi rolled over a little, trying to find a better position in the snow. It was still falling, despite the fact that Rick had passed out a while ago. Exactly how long ago, Vi wasn't sure. He was pretty sure he'd passed out, too. At some point, one of them had taken the tarp from one of the backpacks and laid it over the pair of them. He was pretty sure Rick had done that. He certainly didn't remember it being him.

Vi closed his eyes. He didn't remember a lot of the last hour or so, if that was indeed how long it had been. But he was used to that. Pain did funny things to people's memories. His brain had probably already blocked out the worst bits. The painkillers were helping with the rest. Helping, but not completely eliminating the pain. And they didn't have an endless supply of them. And they wouldn't protect either of them from infection if it turned out they hadn't bandaged the burns well enough or soon enough. And, and, and…

So many things that could go wrong. So many things that probably would go wrong, if the MAAB had anything to say about it. What were the chances they were really going to leave his collar turned on now? Just watching the two of them lying around in the snow wasn't very exciting. But if they turned it off…

Then what? Maybe a wild animal would find them and eat them. Maybe the snow would get worse and bury them both alive. Maybe the girl with the lightning would decide to let some off for fun, or just to let off some steam, and she would get lucky. Or he would get unlucky. Those were the same thing, really.

He just hoped Rick wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

Vi clenched his teeth. There was a way to be certain that Rick wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. He could leave. He could take half the supplies; that would be fair enough. Rick would have a better chance without him. That would be the right thing to do. That would be what was best for Rick.

But…

Vi drew a steadying breath. They probably hadn't turned his collar off yet. He would know if that had happened, wouldn't he? Something bad would happen. But by the time it did happen, it would be too late to do anything about it. Too late to protect Rick.

Too late to save his friend.

Slowly, carefully, Vi slid out from under the tarp. Would he even be able to stand? His leg was still throbbing, even if the pills were dulling the pain a bit. He probably wouldn't be able to move very fast, but he didn't need to move fast. He just needed to get far enough away.

"What're you doing?"

Shit. Maybe Rick wasn't quite as out of it as he'd thought. "I just need to … you know … take a piss," he lied.

Rick's face turned a little redder. Or maybe that was just the burns. The flames had missed most of his face, but there were parts of his chin and neck that had been hard to bandage, and it had seemed more important to bandage the burns that were worse, the ones that were red and raw instead of just pink. Priorities. They only had so many bandages. There were more back in the tunnels, of course, but that seemed so far away now.

Maybe that was where he should go. They'd said the collars would automatically activate if they entered the tunnels again. Would he make it that far without something awful happening? Would he even be able to stand?

"I think I already did," Rick admitted as Vi struggled to his feet. "When we were hit by the flames, I mean. Pretty sure that's what smells so bad."

Vi shrugged. Compared to the smell of burning flesh, a little shit wasn't that bad. "Nothing to worry about," he assured Rick. "There's clean clothes in the packs."

The packs. How was he supposed to take one now without Rick noticing? Vi's eyes flicked to one pack, then the other. Maybe he should just leave. That would probably be better.

"Don't go." Rick's voice was quiet, almost pleading.

"I told you. I'm just going–"

"I'm not stupid, Vi." Rick sat up, wincing. "You're worried that they've turned your collar off – or that they're going to."

"You think they won't?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. But that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"That it doesn't matter."

Rick Clifton, 19

"That it doesn't matter."

Rick watched as Vi shook his head, trying to process what Rick had just said. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? If they turn it back off, anything could happen. Bad things will happen. How can that not matter?"

"No, I meant … If they do turn it off, it doesn't matter where we are."

"If we go back to the tunnels–"

"It won't matter. If they really want to keep it off, they'll keep it off even if we're in the tunnels."

"They said–"

"I know what they said. Did it ever occur to you that they might have lied?"

Vi blinked. Maybe it hadn't occurred to him. Maybe he'd been so desperate that he'd been willing to believe it. "You're right," he admitted at last. "Even if we go back there, you're not safe."

"Me?"

"That's why I was leaving, Rick. Why I am leaving. If they decide to turn my collar off, I'm done for. But that doesn't mean I have to drag you down with me."

It was Rick's turn to sit there, blinking, confused. "Is that how it works?"

"What do you mean?"

"If there's someone you care about, something bad happening to them counts as bad luck for you, too?"

Vi looked away. "That's … how it seems to work, yeah. I haven't exactly had a lot of friends, but the one time I did get close to someone … yeah."

"What happened?"

Vi shook his head. "They died. They died, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I wasn't even…" He trailed off, then slumped back to the ground beside Rick. "Shit. You're right. It doesn't matter where we are – or even if we're in the same place."

"Why not?"

Vi took a deep breath. "Their name was Alex. We were at boarding school together. I went to a lot of different schools back then – back when I actually went to school. Every time something awful happened, it looked like it was my fault, so nowhere really lasted long. But Alex … They never cared about that. They saw something more when they looked at me – something more than the unlucky kid who was always getting into trouble. Something more than a walking disaster. We were only together a few months, but those months were the best of my life."

Vi shook his head. "Then bad stuff began to happen. Not just to me, I mean. I'm used to bad things happening to me. But bad things started happening to Alex. At first, it was just little things. Things that were easy to ignore. They'd lose something, or be late for a class, or miss their alarm. Neither of us really thought anything of that. I mean, everyone has some bad luck, right?"

Rick nodded. Vi's voice was almost pleading, desperate for reassurance that he hadn't done anything wrong, that anyone could have missed the warning signs. "Of course. I mean, I know I've lost things, and been late for things, and I've never thought anything of it. That's just normal, everyday bad luck."

"Exactly. And that's how it started. But it got worse. There was a bad batch of drugs that landed them in the hospital for a few days. They fell down a flight of stairs and broke their arm. They got hit with a brick that fell off a building they were walking past. And then … they fell out their window and hit their head wrong. They were in a coma for two days before they died."

Rick hesitated only a moment before wrapping his left arm around Vi's shoulders. Vi looked up, surprised. "There's nothing you could have done," Rick insisted.

Vi shook his head. "How can you say that?"

"The same way you keep telling me that there's nothing I can do about the weather," Rick pointed out. "I mean, it's still snowing, but you're not blaming me for that. You can't control what your power does, just like I can't control this." He gestured at the snow with his right arm, immediately regretting the movement as pain shot through his shoulder. "If this isn't my fault, then what happened to Alex wasn't yours."

"It's not the same."

"Why not?"

"I…" Vi trailed off, unsure. "I don't know," he admitted. "It just feels like I should have seen it coming. I should have known I couldn't be … happy. Not that happy, not for that long."

Rick gave Vi's shoulder a squeeze. "But you can. Nothing bad's happened yet, which means your collar is still on. And even if they turn it off–"

"If they turn it off, it doesn't matter where we are," Vi repeated. "And it doesn't even matter if we split up, because…" He trailed off for a moment before finishing. "Because I wasn't there when Alex fell out the window. I was on the other side of town when it happened. I was miles away, and it didn't matter. It didn't matter that I wasn't physically close to them. So even if I left you…"

"The fact that you care enough to want to leave to protect me means that it wouldn't make a difference."

"Yeah."

"So is there anything you can do about it?"

"What?"

"Well, that's what you keep asking me about the weather. Is there anything I can do to change it? And there's not. Shit happens. That's what you said when the storm started after we attacked those two kids in the tunnels. If there's nothing we can do about it, then … What's so funny?"

Vi was laughing. It had started as a chuckle, but now he was almost rolling on the ground with laughter. "You haven't even noticed, have you?" he managed through gasps of laughter.

"What?"

"The snow stopped."

Frederick Bouvy, 17

At least the snow had finally stopped.

Frederick brushed the snow from his clothes as he trudged on through the layer of snow that was already on the ground. It was maybe three or four inches, but it seemed like a lot more. It felt like a lot more. It had already begun seeping into his boots, through his jacket, down the back of his shirt. It got everywhere. He'd always thought of snow as something fun, on the rare occasions when it did happen, but he'd always had somewhere warm to go afterwards. A nice, warm drink. A clean, dry pair of clothes to change into.

He'd never thought he would miss that so much. He'd always taken it for granted – having plenty of food, plenty of clothes, a dry place to sleep. Sure, he'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that there were people who didn't have those things, but he'd never imagined he would be one of them. It had always seemed like those were things that happened to other people. Runaways. Addicts. People who lost their jobs. Those were the sort of people who didn't have things.

Not people like him.

Not people who hadn't done anything.

Frederick kicked some of the snow out of his path, then looked behind him. Damn. He was leaving a trail. Of course he was leaving a trail. Anyone who happened to find his footprints would be able to follow them right to him. He'd assumed that no one would want to be on the move while it was snowing, but now that it had stopped…

Now he would have to be more careful. But what was he supposed to do? It wasn't as if he had anything to wipe away the path with. Even if he did, the amount of time that would take would slow him down. He could probably turn some of the snow into goo, but would that be any better? No, it would probably just leave a trail of goo rather than footprints. Not only would that tell people where he was, but it would tell them who he was.

They could probably already figure out enough from his trail, of course. They could tell he was alone, and that narrowed down the list of contestants by quite a bit. How many of the others had been working alone?

Except he hadn't been working alone. Not at the start. If people thought he was still with Alphonso and Seb, it might not even occur to them that the tracks might be his. Anyone could be working alone by now. They had no way of knowing how many of the other contestants might be dead. There could be a lot of people working alone now.

Frederick relaxed a little at the thought. Even if someone found him, it might just be one person. He should be able to handle one person, right? Of course, a lot depended on who that person was. If he could get close enough to touch them, he stood a chance. And he still had a pistol in his pocket. Cold didn't affect guns, did it? Probably not unless the powder got wet. Had it gotten wet? How was he supposed to tell?

Frederick's felt around in his pocket. Yes, it was still there. Of course it was still there. There was no way it could have fallen out. Still, it felt good to know that he still had a weapon he could use from a distance, that he wouldn't have to let someone get close enough to touch them in order to have a chance at taking them out first.

Taking them out. Killing them. Frederick gripped the pistol tightly. He'd assumed, at the start, that the Games would be almost over by now. He'd imagined the contestants finding each other more quickly, fighting, killing, and then it being done. He hadn't enjoyed the thought of killing, but he'd been willing to, in order to get this over with as quickly as possible.

As quickly as possible. Right. That was the idea. He hadn't imagined it like this. He hadn't imagined trudging through the snow and the cold, trying to … what? Find food? He was so cold, it hadn't even occurred to him for a while how hungry he was. That wasn't good. That couldn't be good. Come to think of it, it had been a while since the last tiny lake, as well. There was snow, but trying to drink that didn't seem like a good idea. It was so cold, he would never be able to drink enough to keep himself hydrated.

Frederick shook his head. It was getting harder to think clearly. He needed to find somewhere warm. That was important. The cold would kill him before the hunger or thirst did. He needed to find somewhere warmer – or at least something to huddle up in – and quickly. But how was he supposed to do that, when he wasn't even sure where he was anymore in the snow? He'd been going in the same direction for a while, but after what seemed like hours of trudging around in the snow, he couldn't be sure he hadn't gotten turned around.

He could be anywhere by now.

Elena Burleigh, 21

They had to be close by now.

Elena pulled her jacket tighter as she, Liv, and Lee neared the mountain in the distance. She wasn't sure exactly what they were hoping to find there, but it had seemed like a good way to gauge their progress. It was something to aim for – something solid, something certain. Liv had suggested making camp there for the night once it was clear that the storm was beginning to subside. It had seemed a little early to start thinking about settling down for the night, but she hadn't realized quite how far away the mountain was.

Up close, it looked larger – larger than any of the others in the area. Or maybe that was just because it was nearby. It was so hard to judge the size of anything out here. There was nothing to compare it to – not anything nearby, at least. There were just other mountains in the distance, which looked small, but … well, if this one was so large up close, the others probably were, too.

Elena shook her head. Maybe this was how people from smaller towns felt when they came to bigger cities for the first time. Except instead of the noises and the sights and the sounds being overwhelming, it was the lack of anything around, the lack of any reference point, the lack of any sound that was disorienting. In fact, aside from the occasional breeze and a bird or two every now and then, there didn't seem to be any noises at all.

Maybe that was why the three of them had been so quiet. It was so quiet, it felt like any sort of noise might give them away. But who would be nearby to hear them? Aside from the mountains in the distance and the occasional tree here or there, they could see pretty far in front of them. They hadn't seen anyone else since the start of the Games. If the other contestants were having the same luck…

Then they would be here quite a while. Of course, not everyone could be having the same luck. Ansel had left, after all. But if even most of the contestants had managed to avoid each other so far, the Games could go on for weeks. Maybe even months. Elena pulled her jacket a little tighter, trying to imagine living for months out here.

Of course, it was a better thought than the idea of dying out here instead. And that was the other option. There wasn't really any way of making the Games go any faster – not without at least some idea of where the other contestants might be. And aside from the scream they'd heard more than a day ago now, they had no idea.

Maybe Liv had been right. Maybe they should have tried to find whoever was screaming. But that would mean they would have been closer to that same area when the snow started, rather than farther south where they were now. They might have gotten caught in the snowstorm despite Liv's best efforts. No, this was better. They would find someone else eventually.

Until then, they just had to keep doing what they were doing. Keep making progress, rest when they were tired, refill their water bottles, and eventually figure out some other way to find food. They weren't running low on anything just yet, but it was only a matter of time. If they were really going to be out here for weeks, they would have to find food.

One thing at a time. Right now, they were headed for the mountain in front of them. Maybe there would be animals there. And right now, animals meant food.

Well, some animals meant food, at least. Hopefully they wouldn't run into any animals that were dangerous instead. Maybe something like a squirrel or a rabbit or some sort of bird. Not wolves or coyotes or mountain lions or whatever else might live out here. Come to think of it, she didn't really have any idea at all what sort of animals lived in Wyoming. Right now, there didn't seem to be much at all.

But there had to be something. The MAAB wouldn't have chosen this spot for the Games if there wasn't going to be something that they could eat. The food from their packs would only last them so long, and it wasn't as if they were going to be able to refill them anywhere. Not as if they could just go to the nearest grocery store or gas station and get more supplies.

Elena shook the thought from her head. Damn, she missed being able to just walk down to the corner and get something to eat. Something that didn't come out of a backpack. Something nice and hot and not dried or salted. Hell, she could even go for a sandwich. Not even anything fancy. Just a nice ham or turkey or roast beef sandwich with real bread and something to drink that wasn't water. Soda or juice or even tea or lemonade. Anything that felt … well, normal.

That was it, really. It wasn't that she missed food, although she definitely did. It wasn't even that she missed her apartment, her bed, her job, or even her friends. She'd always enjoyed a change of scenery, a little shake-up in the routine of life. But this … this was different. Nothing here was normal, and it wasn't because of the scenery. Even though they hadn't seen another person for days, she couldn't shake the feeling that something could happen at any moment, that she could be dead in minutes and there wouldn't be a thing she could do about it.

If not for that, this might have been fun. The mountains, the hiking, getting to know Lee and Liv. In any other situation, she would have enjoyed this. And that was what was getting to her, now that she put her finger on it. The MAAB had taken a scenario that could easily have been a fun vacation, a break from her everyday life, and turned it into a nightmare.

It just wasn't fair.

Lea Cervantes, 18

It wasn't fair, really.

Lea watched with a smile as Elio pushed another batch of fish to shore. It was strange, really, how quickly they'd fallen into a rhythm. It was almost enough to make her forget why they were here, and that … that just didn't seem fair. To forget for a moment or two that their lives were in danger, and then to have it all come crashing back when she remembered. When she remembered that Makenzie was dead, that the rest of their group was gone, that there were people trying to kill them.

It was easy to forget, in the moment. It hadn't taken them long to find another lake, and Elio was getting a little better at creating barriers. Maybe not as good as he would have been if he'd practiced during training, but he was getting the hang of it. So it looked like it was going to be fish for supper again.

Fish for supper. Her parents would have approved of that, even if it wasn't a Friday. Was it Friday? No. No, it had to be later than that. It had been a Sunday when they had been taken for the Games. The talent show had been on Monday. That meant training had been Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. The Games had started on Friday, then, and this was the third day of the Games.

"Huh." Lea realized she'd said it out loud. Elio was already turning to ask what was on her mind, so she explained. "I didn't realize it was Sunday."

Elio cocked his head. Apparently, he'd forgotten, too. It certainly hadn't taken them long to lose track of time. "I guess it is," he agreed. "It seems like it's been more than a week, doesn't it. Since they took us, I mean."

"Yeah."

Elio finished pushing the fish towards land. "Probably going to be pretty easy to lose track of days, especially if the Games last a while. I mean, not that it really matters what day it is, but it's something … well, something real. Something human."

"And mutant, I guess," Lea muttered.

Elio chuckled. "We are human. All the things that make humans human – all the emotions, the beliefs, the fears, the drive to organize, to form groups, to connect with others – all of those are things that mutants do, too. I mean, take days of the week. Animals don't have those. They don't care what day it is. They keep track of the seasons, in a way – migrating, mating, giving birth, and such – but weeks? Months? Those are human inventions. Even if they might have been invented by mutants somewhere along the way."

Lea couldn't help a chuckle. "Never really thought about that. We have no way of knowing, do we – how many of the people we learn about in history class might have actually been mutants."

Elio shrugged. "Would it matter?"

"To some people, probably. If people realized that our calendar or our measuring system or maybe even our language was invented by a mutant…"

"What would they do? Stop using it? Not a chance. We use a lot of things today that were probably invented or discovered by people we might not want to associate with personally. That's another human thing, I suppose – taking the parts of something that we like, that we think are good – and dismissing the rest. Ignoring it. Or even refusing to acknowledge it. That's–"

"Human. Yeah. I think I get the picture. So that's it, then? All this is just … human nature?"

Elio chuckled. "Yes and no. We're all human, which means we all make mistakes. We all have temptations we need to face, prejudices we need to overcome. But the fact that we do work to overcome them, to do better than we have in the past – that's human nature, too. Deep down, we all want to do good. We want to be better than we are. And that's the part of human nature that's a gift. That's the part we need to hold onto. Even here."

Even here. It was easy to forget. It was so easy to think of it in the abstract, but here … human nature seemed a bit too messy. The girl who had killed Makenzie had the same instincts as the rest of them, the same drive – the drive to do better, to be better, perhaps, but also the drive to survive. And the MAAB had convinced most of them that survival meant killing each other, that the only way to make it out alive was for everyone else to die. How long could people – even good people – ignore that sort of pressure?

How long could she ignore it?

Maria Nanami, 26

How long would the MAAB let them just keep going?

Maria watched as Elio and Lea made their way farther south. For Lea's sake, she was glad the storm had stayed to the north, and had now stopped completely. The two of them had been heading in more or less the same direction since the start of the Games. Sure, they'd stopped to fish a few times, but they were still making progress, and although they had no way of knowing it, they were a safe distance away from anyone else.

The nearest group was Liv, Lee, and Elena, but even they were pretty far away. It was hard to gauge distance exactly, but the three of them were planning to stop for the night at a mountain that Lea and Elio had passed the day before. So there was at least a good day's worth of travel between the two groups. Even if both of them kept going in the same direction, and even if Lea and Elio kept stopping every so often, they weren't likely to find each other anytime soon.

Manaka and Marcus, meanwhile, were even farther away from anyone else. They'd turned northeast a while ago and were following a small river between some of the steeper slopes. No one else had really gone that way at all, so the closest contestants were probably actually Seb and Alphonso, who showed no signs of going anywhere. Maria shook her head. Vi was worried about the MAAB turning his collar back off because he and Rick weren't doing enough, but they were probably the last contestants the MAAB was actually worried about. At least they were trying to keep things moving. Most of the others didn't seem to be looking for a fight at all.

Not that she could blame them for that. Not really. She would probably be doing the same thing in their position. Most people would. Most people, if they were told that there were twenty-nine other people who were going to try to kill them, would try to stay as far away from those people as possible. It was a rare person who would actually take the initiative and try to take their opponents out first. Most people, when it came right down to it, would rather avoid a fight unless they had a good reason to strike first.

And the fact was, most of them simply didn't. Most of them didn't have a reason to go out of their way to look for a fight. Of course, when it did come to a fight, most of them would also be willing to kill in order to save their own lives, but it was probably only natural to want to put that moment, that choice, off as long as they could.

For most of them. And the ones who did want to fight … well, they didn't seem to be having much success. Rick and Vi had gone out of their way to fight, and where had it gotten them? It had gotten them injured. It had gotten Evelyn killed. Ansel had gone looking for Fae, and it had cost him his life. Sybil had made the mistake of approaching Henry, and now she was dead.

Of course, there wasn't safety in hiding, either. Joseph and Alannah had tried that. Makenzie hadn't been looking for a fight; she'd only been trying to grab a bag so that she could help her group. But that hadn't stopped Frederick from attacking her.

Maria glanced over to the screen that showed Frederick. He'd certainly seemed like someone who was willing to fight at the start, but now he was trudging through the snow, cold and hungry and just trying to find food and water. He was getting closer to Florence, Emery, and Kenji, but they didn't show any signs of moving. If Frederick kept moving in the same direction and they stayed put, he would miss them by quite a ways.

And they probably would stay put for a while. No bats had come in response to Florence's call. Maybe they'd been hiding from the storm. Maybe there simply weren't any bats in the area. Florence had only seen a few the night before, after all, and they could be anywhere by now. Unless something happened, the three of them would probably stay put for a while. Iola, Kiara, and Fae, as well, hadn't budged from the spot where they had been waiting out the storm.

Maybe it was the snow. Maybe the contestants were worried that if they started moving around, they would leave a trail that others could follow. Most of them had stopped once the storm had started, except the ones who were trying to outrun it – and Jaime and Kylena, who hadn't stopped since they'd left Vi and Rick. Even now that the snow had stopped, they were making their way back towards the circle of tunnels where the Games had started.

That probably wasn't a bad idea – and might actually be the safest place for them to go. There wasn't anyone in the area; the closest group was Seb and Alphonso, but they would have no reason to go back to the tunnels any time soon. They already had everything they could want. Maria leaned back in her chair, glancing around at the other coaches. They'd settled into a restless silence once the storm had finally stopped. It seemed like things should have started moving again now that there wasn't a reason to stay put, but maybe they shouldn't have expected that. Objects at rest and all that…

Maria looked up as the door opened. Alvin had brought lunch, but from the look on his face, that wasn't the only thing on his mind. "What do they want?" asked Ian, who had apparently noticed the same thing.

"What do you want?" Penelope corrected, directing the question at Alvin. It was an easy thing to forget – that Alvin was just as much a part of the MAAB as the rest of them. Sure, he'd voted against the Games, but it wasn't as if he'd resigned in protest or refused to be a part of them or anything. He was still here, still helping with the Games, which made him one of them despite the smiles and the easy chatter and the fact that he remembered to bring them lunch.

Alvin set the sandwiches down on the table. "What makes you think we want something?"

Penelope shrugged, reaching for a sandwich. "The fact that you still have no poker face."

Alvin nodded. "Fair enough. We want your help."

"Help with what?"

"We want you to help shake things up."

"Rushing off without a plan won't help."