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

Note: Thanks to NaNoWriMo, my writing is about 3 chapters ahead of my posting, so the next few updates should be fairly quick.

Hope

Colonel Judah Burgess, 52
March 24th, 13:11 MST

"I hope you're right about this."

Judah shook his head as he and Alvin made their way down the hall to the coaches' room. "I don't see the harm in it. All they asked for was a map. Didn't even ask for it, really – just said that it would be a nice thing to have next year. So where's the harm in giving them one now?"

"We didn't give them one last year because—"

"Because we were worried that they might try to mount a rescue attempt if they figured out where the contestants were," Judah finished. "We figured the island might be recognizable if they knew the exact shape and size of it. We were being cautious because it was the first time we were doing this. This year is different."

Alvin nodded. "Because the people who might be mounting a rescue attempt in the first place already know exactly where the contestants are."

"Exactly. They have the same video footage we do, which means they know where everyone is. It's been five days, and they haven't tried to mount a rescue. They've just kept their little videos coming. But Mack's doing a good enough job of spinning those our way."

"There are still protests."

Judah shrugged. "And counter-protests. Almost as large, from what Mack tells me. But that's not the point. The point is, they're not stupid enough to try the same thing twice. No one is going to try to swoop in and rescue the contestants, and giving the coaches a map doesn't give anyone more information than they already had. It just helps them organize it a little more accurately, so they can plan accordingly."

"And you … want them to plan? Why?"

Judah stopped in the middle of the hallway. It was a good question, and he didn't have an immediate answer. "Because they already are," he said at last. "Vincent sending the map to Jaime and Kylena was good timing. I'm not sure what his game is with Henry and Frederick, but I'd wager we'll find out soon enough."

"Maybe he's just trying to help them," Alvin reasoned.

Judah shook his head. "He's manipulating them, and I want to know why. The more information we give them, the more they'll plan, and they'll have to do at least some of that out loud. That gives us more information, too."

Alvin seemed to accept that, and nodded as the pair of them continued down the hall. It was mostly true, after all. He was curious about what Vincent was planning. But more than that, he was hoping that his strategy might rub off on the other coaches. Vincent was getting involved. He was planning ahead. Things had happened so quickly last year, they hadn't really had the chance to anticipate what the contestants would do. The coaches had been focused on trying to rescue the contestants, and the MAAB had been focused on stopping them.

This year … well, this year was different. The Games were happening, and there was no question of stopping them. So the coaches weren't wasting their energy trying to hinder the MAAB, which meant the MAAB didn't have to waste time foiling their plans. Things were better for everyone this year, which meant a lot of spare time. Time they could use.

Judah was met with stares when he entered the coaches' room after Alvin. They were used to Alvin. Hell, they were almost friendly with Alvin. But Judah didn't need them to be friendly; he just needed them to cooperate. He headed to one of the screens and turned a few dials, then pressed a button on one of the remotes. A map sprang to life on the screen, with different colored dots representing the different contestants.

It was Penelope who fixed him with a curious stare, then raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Vincent, already engrossed in the map, waved a hand dismissively. "Why not? What harm could it do?"

Judah nodded. Exactly what he'd been thinking. Vincent must have picked that up.

"Yeah," came Vincent's immediate response. "You're good at that, you know."

What? Thinking?

Vincent chuckled. "Thinking clearly. Directly. Most people's thoughts are a bit fuzzier, a bit more scattered. Sometimes a lot more scattered. You're easy to pick up."

Judah raised an eyebrow. Had that been a compliment?

"Just an observation."

Judah shook his head as the others watched, a bit confused at only hearing half the conversation. Well, Ian and Maria were a bit confused, at least. Penelope was smirking, as if in the joke. Maybe Vincent had told her the same thing. She struck Judah as someone else whose thoughts were probably a bit … direct.

"Clear as a bell when she wants to be," Vincent confirmed.

When she wants to be. He hadn't even thought about that – about trying to hide his thoughts. It would be easy enough to step out of the path of the fan, but then the others would just have to relay what he was saying to Vincent anyway. This was easier. More efficient.

Vincent scoffed. "Almost as if we're useful for something, huh?"

That's not the issue. Whether mutant powers were useful – or could be useful – had never really been in question. Some of the things mutants could do were simply amazing. Some had the potential to make life better, easier, more efficient – not just themselves, but for everyone. If only everyone would use their powers that way, they wouldn't have this problem. The Games wouldn't be necessary. Unfortunately, it only took a few mutants with the right powers – or the wrong powers – to ruin it for them all.

Vincent fell silent, focusing on the map. Maybe he didn't have a good response to that. Maybe he'd spotted something. Penelope sat down beside him, a fan positioned so that he would be able to pick her up. Judah nodded, then turned to go.

He hoped they'd made the right choice.

Emery Mullins, 15

She hoped they'd made the right choice letting Kenji go.

Emery curled up as tightly as she could, her head buried under her paws, shielding Florence from the hail as best she could. She was easier to hide in bat form, so that was the form she'd been in for … how long had it been now? Kenji should have been back by now. He should have been back a long time ago. Unless he'd gotten lost.

Or worse.

Emery shook the thought from her head. Lost. He'd probably just gotten lost. It was dark. There was a lot of hail. He'd probably just made a wrong turn somewhere – either on the way there or on the way back. He didn't have the experience that she did with tracking, and even she would have a hard time finding her way anywhere right now. Smell, hearing, sight – they were all virtually useless right now. If he had any sense, he'd found somewhere safer to wait out the storm, kept himself safe at least.

If he had the sense to do that. He would want to make it back. He would want to help them. That was why he'd taken off on his own in the first place. They should all have gone together. That way, even if they'd gotten lost, at least they would be lost together. Hell, wasn't that the first rule of being lost in the wilderness? Stay together. They should have stayed together.

Of course, it wasn't as if they'd had much of a choice. Kenji had just taken off, and neither of them was fast enough to stop him. Florence couldn't fly. She couldn't run quickly enough to keep up when he was moving that fast. They hadn't had a choice.

If only he'd taken the time to think it through.

But he hadn't. He'd been desperate to help them. And now they were all stuck. The two of them were stuck here because if they went anywhere else, there was no guarantee he would be able to find them again. He'd found them at the start of the Games because he'd heard her howling, but would he even be able to hear that over this racket?

Maybe it was worth a try. It wasn't as if anyone else would run towards the sound of someone howling, even if they could hear her. Not in the dark. Not in this weather. Anyone with any sense would want to stay put, wouldn't they?

Except Kenji hadn't.

Emery let out a howl, quiet at first, but then louder, echoing across the rocks, above the sound of the hail. Florence shifted a little. She couldn't hear, but she could probably feel the vibrations coming from Emery's throat. But she said nothing. Probably didn't want to shift back to human form long enough to say anything.

Besides, she was probably going through the same calculation that Emery had. Probably reasoning that if Kenji was lost, if they could help him make it back to them a little sooner, then it was worth the risk of possibly drawing in anyone else who was stupid enough – or perhaps desperate enough – to run towards the sound of a howling werewolf.

She just hoped he was still all right.

Seb

He just hoped the howling wasn't as close as it sounded.

Seb shivered as Phantom rolled over, ears perked up, listening intently. Seb ran a hand along the dog's fur, which was wet and cold. "It's all right, boy," he whispered. "They're a long way off. We're fine as long as we stay here."

He hoped that was true, because he certainly didn't feel up to going anywhere else yet. The hail was still coming down, and there was no shelter here. Nothing except for the dog on top of him.

The dog that was slowly getting to his feet.

"Phantom," Seb hissed as the dog cocked his ears in the direction of the howling. "Phantom, stay. Stay here, boy."

Phantom didn't listen. Almost immediately, he took off into the darkness. Into the storm. Maybe he was just getting restless, sitting around and being pelted by hail. Maybe he wanted to do something.

Or maybe he just wasn't as good at listening as Seb had thought.

Seb tucked his knees to his chest and curled up as tightly as he could. Before the Games, he'd never really tried to make anything alive, so he hadn't been completely sure how it would work. He'd assumed that Phantom would listen to him, obey him, and he'd been doing a pretty good job of that so far.

Except … had he? He was supposed to have been guarding the house at night, but two contestants had managed to lure him away somehow. He was supposed to be protecting Seb, but now he had run off. Maybe it had been silly to expect the dog to obey him, especially now that he wasn't a mutant anymore. Maybe it was silly to create a living thing and expect it not to act … well, alive.

And living things were unpredictable. They did silly things like running off towards the sound of howling in the middle of a storm. Silly things like getting drunk in the middle of a fight to the death. Silly things like making alcohol for someone who wanted to get drunk in the middle of a fight to the death.

Why had he done that?

Seb closed his eyes. His memories were still a little fuzzy, but he remembered that it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now it just seemed … reckless. Everything he and Alphonso had done seemed reckless. Maybe it had only been a matter of time before it caught up with them.

And it had been Alphonso's idea – or at least, most of it had. The house had been his idea. The alcohol certainly had. The dog … actually, Seb was pretty sure the dog had been his idea. But that wasn't necessarily a bad idea. But the rest of it … Why had he gone along with any of that?

Because Alphonso had wanted to. And he'd wanted Alphonso to be happy. He'd never had a lot of friends, and Alphonso … Alphonso had wanted to be around him. Alphonso had appreciated him.

Or had he only appreciated his power?

Seb shivered. If Alphonso could see him now – wet and naked and alone and completely powerless – would he still want to be his friend? No. No, Alphonso had probably never cared at all. He'd just wanted the stuff that Seb could provide. And that had gotten him killed.

Killed. Alphonso was dead. There was no point in blaming him. But it certainly felt better than blaming himself. He was the one who had agreed to all of Alphonso's suggestions, after all. He didn't have to make any of the things Alphonso had wanted. He could have argued. He could have said no.

But he hadn't. And now Alphonso was dead. And he was alone. All alone except for the sound of the hail—

Just the hail. The howling had stopped. Seb opened his eyes frantically. What did that mean? Was it good or bad? Had Phantom found the wolf? It was hard to imagine that ending well. Phantom was a big dog, but wolves were … well, wolves. And it probably wasn't even a normal wolf. It was probably the werewolf. That was worse, wasn't it? But there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was too late to follow the dog.

He would just have to hope Phantom could take care of himself.

Manaka Shizue, 16

He would just have to hope the boy hadn't noticed him.

Manaka lay as still as he could long after the other boy had gone. He'd simply sped past in the dark and the hail, barely glancing in Manaka's direction. Barely. For a split second, Manaka was certain the other boy had seen him, but then he had kept on running, as if he had somewhere to be and Manaka wasn't worth his attention.

Not worth his attention now. Not in this weather. But once the storm died down, he might come back. Slowly, carefully, trying his best to cover his head with his hands and his jacket as the hail continued to fall, Manaka stood up. His legs were shaky and his head was pounding, but at least he could stand. And if he could stand, then he could walk.

Maybe. He took a careful step, and then another. The rocks were slippery. He wasn't moving very quickly. He certainly didn't want to try to run. But he was moving. Moving away from the direction of the howling, the direction the other boy had run.

Had he been running towards the howling? Manaka shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. The other boy had been moving quickly. Probably just as quickly as Manaka could have, if he weren't so exhausted. That meant it was the younger boy, who had been working with – yes, working with the vampire and the werewolf. That explained the howling. And the boy who had gone by before had said the vampire and the werewolf were after him.

But the boy had come from the other direction.

Maybe they had gotten separated. Maybe they'd sent the younger boy on ahead to scout out the area. Manaka clenched his fists and tried to move a little faster. If they'd sent him on ahead as a scout, he'd probably been looking for other contestants. Which meant he'd probably seen Manaka. Which meant it was only a matter of time before he came back – with the others. So he had to keep moving.

Maybe it was a good thing it was still hailing. That was probably the only reason the werewolf hadn't found him already. If they'd been following the other boy's scent, it would have led them right to Manaka. But the rain, sleet, hail – all of it had probably washed away the scent by now. Which meant he had time. Time before they would be able to smell him out.

But they wouldn't need to smell him if the other boy knew where he was.

Manaka pulled his jacket tighter and staggered forward in the darkness. He didn't have any control over what the other group did. If they decided to come after him, there wasn't much he would be able to do about it. Except get as far away as he could before they had a chance to figure out where he was. He just had to concentrate on that. Concentrate on what he could control.

He took a deep breath and concentrated. For a moment, everything slowed down around him. Just for a moment. His head was pounding. His legs ached. No, using his power wasn't a great option right now. He could barely walk as it was.

He would just have to hope that would be enough.

Florence Roos, 114

She just hoped the dog was friendly.

Florence watched from Emery's back as the dog padded closer. Emery took a step closer, vibrating. Probably growling. Letting the dog know that it would be a good idea to back down. It was a fight Emery would probably win, but they had no reason to fight a dog. The dog wouldn't have to die in order for them to live. No reason to fight unless it attacked first.

But…

But wasn't it better to make sure? Better safe than sorry? Maybe the dog wasn't going to hurt them, but it probably wouldn't be much help either. Its sense of smell and hearing probably weren't any better than Emery's were anyway. Besides, what was a dog doing here? Why would the MAAB just let a dog wander into the Games?

Because they hadn't. That was the only explanation. She didn't remember any other contestants who could turn into dogs, but that didn't mean that there weren't any. It just meant they hadn't been as eager to show off their powers as some of them had. Still, the dog didn't have a collar. Did that mean it wasn't a contestant in disguise? Or that it had somehow figured out how to get the collar off?

Florence gripped Emery's fur a little tighter. Every instinct was telling her that they should strike first, but she didn't have a way of communicating that to Emery without shifting back to human shape, and that might be enough to provoke the dog into attacking. Right now, it was just dealing with another dog. Okay, a wolf, but that was close enough to a dog.

Florence shifted a little so she could see better. If the dog's posture was anything to go by, it was trying to appear submissive. Its gaze was lowered, its ears back, its tail tucked between its legs. It was probably just a dog.

Probably.

Emery took a step closer to the dog, sniffing. But she probably wouldn't be able to smell much through the rain, the hail, the overpowering smell of dog. Even if it had been near one of the other contestants at some point, would it really smell like them now?

Emery approached slowly. It would be easy enough for her to run, to get away from the dog. As long as she didn't start howling again, she would probably be able to lose it. But if they moved now, would Kenji be able to find them again? Besides, the dog didn't seem to want to attack them…

The lunge came out of nowhere. One second, the dog was crouching submissively, probably whimpering from the look of him, and then suddenly, he was leaping towards Emery, teeth bared, almost certainly snarling. Emery didn't have time to dodge before the teeth sunk into her neck. When she finally broke free of the dog's grip, her neck was bleeding. Blood splashed onto Florence.

Blood.

No. No, she had to control it. The two dogs' heads were close enough now, each snapping at the other, close enough for her to leap from Emery's back to the other dog's. The dog barely noticed her as it took another snap at Emery, who was slowing from loss of blood. Florence sank her fangs into the dog's neck and focused. Focused on growing back to regular vampire size, her fangs still deep in the dog's veins.

Suddenly, there was a knife. A knife in the dog's neck, plunging in and out, in and out with impossible speed. Where had a knife come from? Florence didn't bother wondering very long. There was more blood. And she had no reason to hold back now. The dog had tried to kill Emery. Now there was a reason for the dog to die.

Now there was a reason for her to feed.

Finally, the dog went still. Something touched her shoulder. A hand. Kenji. Kenji was back. The knife was in his hand. But that meant the hand hadn't been Emery's. Florence whirled around, and immediately regretted it. Her head was spinning. Spinning with dizziness and with bloodlust. But through the fog and the confusion, she could see Emery, sprawled on the ground, bleeding from the wound in her neck. Florence's stomach churned.

She wasn't going to make it.

Kenji Rose, 12

She was going to make it.

Kenji sifted frantically through the supplies in his bag. He'd grabbed some bandages from the circle; he just had to find where he'd put them. He'd thought they would stay drier if he put them at the bottom of the bag. And they were dry, but…

Florence had already shifted back to human shape and was pressing her jacket against Emery's neck. Emery was gasping for breath, her features shifting from something almost human to fur and fangs and back again, as if she couldn't decide which shape was best, or maybe which shape would hurt less. "Stop moving," Florence commanded, her eyes locked on Emery's. "You're making it worse."

Immediately, Emery froze, her body relaxing but her eyes still full of terror as Kenji hurried over and started bandaging her neck. He was fast – very fast – but there was already so much blood, and the hail was still coming down. Slowly – very slowly in comparison to Kenji's movements – Florence pulled a tarp from the bag and spread it over the three of them. Kenji quickly signed thank you as she shone the flashlight on the wound.

The wound. If only there was just one wound. A ring of bite marks circled Emery's neck, some of them cutting deep. He held the bandages tighter, trying to stop the bleeding, but how was he supposed to get them tight enough to stop the bleeding without stopping her from breathing? Why hadn't 'how to bandage neck wounds' been part of their training?

Except … well, maybe it would have been, if they'd decided to try a little first aid training. Kenji glanced up at Florence, silently pleading for her to do something. She was over a hundred years old, after all. That meant she would know what to do. She had to know what to do. If she didn't know what to do, then…

Then Emery was going to die. Florence handed Kenji the flashlight and took over applying the bandages, but there was still so much blood. Emery lay completely still, but was that just because of Florence's hypnosis, or was it because—

No, she was still breathing. And her heart was still beating. That was something. But her breathing was ragged, and when Kenji felt for a pulse, it seemed to be growing slower. Or maybe he was just faster. Yes. Yes, that was it. That was all. She was going to be fine. Florence would fix it.

Florence had to fix it.

Because he couldn't. Not now. He could have, if he'd arrived sooner. If he'd been just a little quicker. If he hadn't gotten quite so lost. Maybe if he hadn't slowed down a little when he'd seen the other boy – the one he'd decided to leave because he'd heard the howling, and he'd wanted to get back here as soon as possible.

It hadn't been soon enough.

Kenji felt something squeeze his hand. Emery. She'd taken his hand in hers, and was squeezing gently. Her mouth was moving, trying to say something, but no words were coming out. Kenji blinked away the tears in his eyes. "It's all right. You're going to be all right. We're going to fix this. It'll be okay."

But it wouldn't. The certainty hit him like a wave, engulfing him as Emery's eyes closed. It wasn't going to be okay. Florence couldn't fix this. They were too late.

He had been too late.

The grip on his hand loosened. Kenji couldn't hear Emery's breathing anymore over the sound of the hail, but he could tell when her chest stopped moving. Finally, Florence let go of the bandages she'd been pressing tightly against Emery's neck. "I'm sorry, Kenji."

Tears clouded Kenji's vision as the flashlight slipped from his hand. "It's my fault," he whispered. "I should have been faster. I could have been faster. I could have tried just a little harder, not grabbed so much stuff, not gotten so lost. I shouldn't have left in the first place. I should have been here. She wouldn't have died if—"

Florence grabbed his shoulders, and Kenji realized he hadn't been signing. But apparently she'd been able to catch the general idea of what he was saying, because she shook her head. "This is not your fault, Kenji. There's nothing you could have done. She was dead the moment the dog went for her jugular vein."

Kenji blinked, and this time he remembered to sign. Dog? He hadn't gotten a good look, but he'd assumed it was another wolf. That would make sense, after all. Wolves lived in the mountains. What would a dog be doing here?

He'd killed a dog?

A dog that had been trying to kill Emery.

A dog that had killed Emery.

Kenji closed his eyes and buried his face in Florence's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly. "It's all right," Florence whispered. "It'll be all right."

But they both knew that wasn't true.

Jaime Sanchez, 20

They both knew they would have to leave eventually.

Jaime stared out into the darkness and the hail outside. Sure, they were probably safe here for now. For a little while. Until the storm settled down. But once people began to move around again, the house would be a target. It was practically a beacon to anyone who might be looking for some of the other contestants. And once the storm stopped, there would definitely be someone out there looking.

Just like they had been.

Of course, they'd only been looking in this specific area because they'd had a map. But if they'd been sent a map, there was always the possibility that some of the other contestants had, too. There was no reason to think that they were the only ones who had gotten something. Hell, for all they knew, all of the other contestants might have gotten maps. For all they knew, everyone knew where the house was.

No. No, that was silly. If the rest of them knew where the house was, someone would have come by now. Even if they would normally have been too afraid of whoever was inside, this weather was quite the incentive to find anywhere that might have some shelter. It had been hailing for hours now. How many hours, they weren't entirely sure, but it seemed like a long time. It was still dark outside, but was it dark because of the storm, or was it dark because it was night now?

"What time is it?" Jaime asked.

For a moment, Kylena looked startled, but then glanced down at her watch. "Almost five. Why?"

"Just wondering how long we've been here."

Kylena nodded. "You're worried someone else might find us."

Jaime shrugged. "We found them. Stands to reason someone else could find us. But we're in a pretty good position, I'd say." The two boys had apparently been big on guns. Including the one Kylena had taken from the boy who had attacked them, there were four pistols and plenty of extra bullets. But they couldn't afford to get too cocky. After all, the guns hadn't done much to help the house's previous occupants.

"That's what they thought," Kylena mumbled.

Jaime put a hand on Kylena's shoulder. "Look, as soon as the storm clears, we'll leave. It's just … taking longer than we thought. But it can't keep hailing forever."

"Why not?"

Jaime blinked. What kind of a question was that? That wasn't how weather worked. Or at least, that wasn't how weather normally worked. It rained for a while, or hailed for a while, and then it eventually stopped. Everything stopped eventually.

Normally.

But this wasn't normal weather. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. One of the contestants was probably causing this, and that meant that normal rules didn't apply. But some rules still did. Jaime shrugged. "They have to sleep eventually, right?"

Yes. Yes, that made sense. If it was one of the other contestants causing this – which seemed likely – then it would probably stop once they went to sleep. All they had to do was wait. "Maybe we should get some sleep while we can," they suggested.

Kylena shook her head. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep here."

"I saw some beds in the other room."

Kylena looked away. "Beds they slept in. The boys we killed. I don't think I could. But if you want to, I can keep watch for a while."

Jaime nodded. "Suit yourself." They headed to the other room. Sure enough, there were two beds. Real beds with blankets and pillows. No wonder the boys had wanted to stay put here. It was comfortable. It was familiar. It reminded them of home.

And that was why it was dangerous. That was why they couldn't stay longer than they had to. It would be too easy to convince themselves they could stay a little longer, and then a little more, and then they would end up staying until someone found them – just like they had found the other group. If they stayed too long, they wouldn't want to leave.

But they couldn't just get up and leave in the middle of a storm. That was even more dangerous. They could wait until the storm stopped. At least it didn't seem like it would be hard to convince Kylena to leave. The fact that there were two dead bodies nearby – even if they had moved them outside – was still unnerving her.

Jaime settled down on one of the beds. Sure, it was a little bit creepy. But it was better than the alternative. It was better than being dead themselves. And that was the other option, in the end. Fight or die. Kill or be killed. Hunt or be hunted. Predator or prey. Killer or victim.

And they had made their choice.

Henry Helstrom, 14

They hoped they had made the right choice.

Henry watched silently as Frederick slept, his chest moving slowly up and down, calm, relaxed, completely at ease. Henry wished they were as certain about their decision to work together. They had to admit, it was nice to have someone else around, particularly someone who was so quick to trust – or maybe too exhausted to question whether this had been a good idea. And two of them could survive, after all. There was no reason Frederick would have to die.

But there was still a nagging feeling in the pit of their stomach. Their last attempt at an alliance had ended … well, badly. They had no idea whether Kiara, Iola, and Fae were still alive, but they certainly wouldn't want to see Henry again. It was probably only a matter of time before this went wrong, too. Just like everything else. Nothing in their life had lasted long. Why should this be any different?

Still, that was no reason not to take advantage of it while it lasted. For now, they had someone to watch their back. Or at least, they would once Frederick finally woke up again. And they had to admit that Frederick's power would probably be rather useful in a fight – assuming he got close enough to an opponent to touch them. Certainly not a power Henry would want to find themself up against.

And that was it, really. While teaming up with Frederick may not have been the best idea, it was definitely a better idea than fighting him. Even if that was a fight Henry would have won, it would probably have been close. They could easily have gotten hurt. And they didn't want that to happen again – not if they could help it.

And they could help it. For now, at least. For now, it was better for Frederick to be here, under their sleeping bag, sleeping soundly. Better than Frederick trying to kill them. And those were the options. Work together or fight. There wasn't any middle ground. Not here. If they had just gone their separate ways…

Then what? What would the MAAB have done? There wasn't really anything they could do about it. But they would have spent the rest of the Games wondering what might have happened if they'd teamed up with Frederick. Besides, their coaches seemed to think it was a good idea.

Vincent had also thought it was a good idea to keep the extent of Fae's power a secret.

Henry shook the thought from their head. They had thought so, too. They had agreed with Vincent, and would probably have come to the same conclusion on their own. It wasn't fair to hold that against him, but it did mean that they should take their coach's advice with a grain of salt. Vincent probably had a better idea of the big picture than Henry did right now. He probably knew how many of the contestants were left, for a start. He probably knew who else was in the area. And he'd thought it was a good idea for the two of them to work together.

Probably. That was assuming that was what the glove had meant in the first place. That it had been a suggestion rather than a warning. Hell, that was assuming that Vincent had been the one to send it. For all Henry knew, it could have been someone else. One of the other coaches, or one of the MAAB. Maybe it was someone trying to lure them into trusting Frederick, only for him to turn on them when they didn't suspect it.

Stop it. They were being paranoid. If either of them was going to turn on the other, Henry had a perfect opportunity right now. Frederick was asleep. All they would have to do was order one of the golems to smash Frederick's head in, and it would all be over. Frederick wouldn't have time to touch a thing.

But there was no reason to. Not yet. Sure, they were nervous, but that wasn't a good reason to kill someone. It was a good reason to be cautious; that was all. They could still have the golems keeping watch when it was their turn to sleep. They would be able to step in if Frederick tried anything.

Probably.

Almost certainly.

Henry turned one of their knives over in their hands. They hadn't told Frederick they had two – not even when Frederick had shown Henry the pistol he'd been carrying. They'd kept the second knife tucked in their pocket, just in case. In case of what, they weren't entirely sure. It wasn't much of a weapon, compared to a gun or the golems or the ability to turn anything into goo. But it was a weapon that Frederick didn't know they had.

And something told Henry that might be important.

Kiara Moore, 15

The important thing was that they were together.

Kiara held Fae tighter as the three of them huddled together under their sleeping bag. Fae was already asleep, and Iola seemed to be as well, although Kiara wasn't sure whether she'd finally managed it or whether her eyes were just closed. They'd collectively agreed that it was rather pointless to keep watch. It wasn't as if they were going to see anything in this weather anyway. And it didn't seem likely that anyone else would be moving around looking for anyone, either. There was really nothing to do now but wait.

She just wished the wait was a little more comfortable. The sleeping bag over them provided some protection from the hail, but the ground under them was damp and soggy. They'd tried to find a patch of rock earlier, but the rocks all seemed to be full of puddles now, and that wasn't much better. If they'd had a second sleeping bag, maybe they could have spread one under them as well as on top of them. Still, they were lucky they had one. Anyone who didn't have some sort of shelter would be in pretty bad shape by now.

Of course, that was the idea – or at least, it was probably the idea – behind the weather. It wasn't a bad strategy, really. If whoever was controlling the weather had found somewhere safe to take shelter, they could cause as much bad weather as they wanted, wear out everyone else, while they were safe and sound.

But what kind of shelter could they really have found? There were mountains, yes, and that might provide some relief from the wind or the rain, but the ground would still be wet, and unless they'd found something to provide some shelter overhead, the hail would still be coming down on top of them. Maybe there were caves in the mountains, but they would have to be certain that the caverns wouldn't flood. The same was true of the tunnels where they had started; they were almost certainly full of water by now.

Besides, the MAAB had said that their powers wouldn't work in the tunnels. Of course, there was nothing to prevent someone from brewing up a storm and then diving into the tunnels, but that didn't seem like a particularly appealing option. What if the tunnel collapsed? What if it flooded? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

Kiara closed her eyes. Of course, they didn't have much idea what might have been in some of the other bags, either. There had been a sleeping bag in one of theirs; maybe that meant there was other camping equipment. Maybe there were tents, or some other kind of shelter. Maybe the other contestants were doing just fine in the storm.

If they had managed to get something at the start. There probably wasn't much left at the circle by now, even if someone did want to go back there. No, they were probably stuck with what they'd grabbed at the start. It would have to last them until…

Until they found some food on their own. They weren't likely to come across much in this weather, but the storm couldn't last forever. Eventually, it would pass, and they could start moving again. Slowly, yes, but steadily. Maybe they weren't making much progress, but they were still alive. And they were still together.

Together. She hadn't expected that, really, at the start of the Games. She wasn't sure exactly what she had expected, but the three of them, still together after … what? Five days? Six? What time was it now? She hadn't expected them to still be together. Hell, if she was being honest, she hadn't expected all of them to still be alive. The last Games had only lasted three days. They were already well past that length, and they were still here. Still together.

Kiara relaxed a little. She knew it couldn't last forever, of course. Even with Henry gone, there were three of them. Only two could make it out alive. Eventually, someone would find them. Eventually, they would have to fight again. Yes, they'd been lucky so far. Both of the boys who had attacked them had been alone. They'd won two fights. Killed two contestants. That sort of luck couldn't last forever.

But while it did, they would take advantage of it.

Elio Haines, 16

At least they could take advantage of the opportunity to rest.

Elio took a deep breath, trying to relax and focus on the light. Lea had finally fallen asleep, and Elio was keeping watch. Not that there was much to watch besides the hail that was steadily falling. No one else was anywhere nearby; he would know if they were. For now, they were safe.

Well, as safe as they could be, at least. Just because they were safe from the other contestants didn't mean there weren't other dangers. But the hail seemed to be settling down a little bit – or maybe moving off in another direction. That would be a nice change of pace. Their blankets provided some protection from the weather, and the light was keeping the pair of them warm, but it would be nice to be able to feel the sun again. To be able to see the sun again.

Of course, it might very well be nighttime by now. He had no idea how long the storm had been raging, but it seemed like a long time. Which meant that either it had stayed in one place for quite a while, or it was a rather large storm. And if it was as big as it seemed, then wouldn't someone outside the Games notice? Even if the MAAB had managed to clear the area around them, a storm like this would show up on somebody's radar, wouldn't it? Somebody would be bound to notice.

But would they care?

The thought hit him out of nowhere, like a wave coming up behind him and knocking him off his feet. Even if someone noticed the storm, even if they somehow managed to piece together what was really going on here, would they care? Would they care if a bunch of mutants were being forced to kill each other? Or would they reason, like the MAAB had, that it was a small price to pay if it kept them safe?

Except it didn't keep them safe. That was the frustrating thing. Locking up mutants wouldn't actually protect people. Not really. Not forever. Even if their plan succeeded and they managed to force all the mutants together into different settlements, there would always be some who slipped through the cracks. People were good at that. There would be some people who escaped the government's attention one way or another – whether by bribing the right people or just being secretive enough or maybe escaping to another country. They would always be there.

And they would be angry.

There would probably be a war.

Elio leaned back, staring up at the blanket above him. He wasn't quite sure what he thought of that, if he was being honest with himself. It was easy enough to say that fighting in the Games was wrong. After all, none of these other mutants had done anything to him. There was nothing here to fight for. Nothing except survival, which they could achieve just as well by avoiding the other contestants.

But if it was a matter of fighting the MAAB, or the other organizations that were oppressing mutants … well, that was a bit different. Those were people who had actually done something. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the MAAB was looking for a fight. If some mutants finally snapped and gave them one … well, it was hard to blame them, really. Maybe in that case, he would be willing to fight. But not here. Not against other mutants – other children – who were just as powerless as he was.

Except … if he thought about it, he didn't really feel powerless. Oh, there was nothing he could do about the storm, of course, but when it came right down to it, there was nothing the MAAB could do about the weather, either. There was nothing they could do about most of the contestants' powers. Sure, they could turn on their collars, but that rather defeated the purpose of the Games, which was for them to use their powers against each other. But the MAAB didn't really have any say in how they chose to use them.

Which was probably why they were sitting in the middle of a hailstorm. This certainly hadn't been the MAAB's idea. They wanted the contestants to fight, and it seemed very unlikely that anyone was out fighting in this weather. Chances were, the rest of the contestants were doing exactly what he and Lea were – staying put and waiting out the storm. No one would be moving around. No one would be killing each other.

If only it could stay that way.

Liv Holle, 18

"Think you can keep pushing it that way?" Elena asked.

Liv shrugged as the hail continued to die down. She wasn't completely sure it was her moving the storm in the first place. She'd been trying to make the storm stronger, and that definitely seemed to have worked. But whether she was responsible for nudging it away from them again, or whether that would have happened anyway, there was really no way to tell.

Still, it was nice to think that maybe she was doing something, having some sort of effect on the storm. "I hope so. It'd be nice to get out and stretch our legs a bit." They'd spent most of the day huddling beneath their sleeping bag, and while it was good that they'd been relatively safe, it was getting a bit frustrating. It would be nice to get moving again.

Get moving where, exactly, she wasn't sure. They'd been following a group the day before, but those contestants could be anywhere by now, and they had no way of figuring out which way they had gone, unless they managed to catch sight of them again. And if that was the plan, it was probably best to get out from under their sleeping bag as soon as they could. She wasn't sure what time it was, or how long the storm had lasted, but it had felt like a long time. Even once the storm cleared, would there be any daylight left?

Finally, the hail died down to an occasional ping off of Elena's metal, and the three of them poked their heads outside their makeshift shelter. It was still dark, but not quite as dark as it had been. There was a hint of light off to the west – or at least, the direction she was pretty sure had been west. She pulled out the compass, and sure enough, it was just light enough to see that she was right. West. That meant it was a sunset. "Great," she muttered. "So much for going anywhere today."

Lee nodded. "Yeah, probably best not to try to go anywhere in the dark – not when the ground's going to be this slippery. We can pick up again in the morning."

"Assuming the weather holds up," Liv grumbled.

Silence. Neither of the others said anything. Neither of the others said that it would be nice if they could be sure the weather would hold up. It would be nice if she could guarantee there wouldn't be another storm like this. Neither of them had said it, but they had to be thinking it.

Because she was thinking it. She wished she had more control, more say in exactly how her power ended up working. But she didn't. There was no way she could. She hadn't had enough time during training to work out exactly how anything worked. None of them had. They were lucky enough that Elena had turned to metal instinctively when the storm started, or things might have been a lot worse.

And Lee … well, Lee seemed to have good control over his powers, but he hadn't had much of a reason to use them so far. There wasn't much need to change something's color out here. Maybe if they were trying to camouflage themselves and hide from some of the other contestants, it would come in handy, but that wasn't really what they were trying to do. They weren't trying particularly hard not to be found, because that didn't seem to be the problem. The problem was finding anyone else.

Still, even that wasn't the immediate problem. There was nothing they could really do about that right now. It was too dark to go looking for the other contestants now. All she could do was try to make sure that the storm kept moving in the direction it was going. The rest of it could wait until tomorrow.

Then they could come up with a plan.

Coburn Hughes, 17

He would have to come up with something.

Coburn pulled his jacket tighter as he took a step back, nearly slipping on the wet rocks. He caught himself in time, still not taking his eyes off Savannah. They'd both finally managed to fall asleep despite the storm, but a prickling sensation had woken him. Lightning. Lightning was flickering around Savannah, small bolts shooting out in different directions. Small, but not as small as they had been a few moments ago. The lightning was growing stronger.

"Savannah!" Coburn shouted, but got no response. She was fast asleep. Or maybe the hail was too loud. It did seem to be coming down harder now. Maybe that was causing the lightning to grow stronger. Or maybe she'd just been keeping it bottled up for too long. It had been a while since she'd let some off. Maybe he just needed to wait…

Coburn took another step back as a stray bolt flickered off in his direction. That was close. Too close. He had to find a way to wake her up before—

Get away. For a moment, the thought almost sounded like a voice. A familiar voice. Coburn glanced around. There was no one else nearby. It had sounded like Cari. But Cari wasn't here.

But maybe she was watching.

Coburn shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was tired. He was wet. He was cold. He'd tried to warm himself up earlier, but there was nothing to burn right now that wasn't soaking wet. They would have to wait for things to dry out. He was frustrated, and so was Savannah. That was probably why the lightning was getting out of control.

But he could help her. He had promised Lilith that he would help her – that they would help each other. And he had helped her earlier, after all. All he had to do was wake her up, and he could talk her through this. But how was he supposed to wake her up without getting too close? If he got too close…

If he got too close, he might get hit. But that had also been true earlier, and he had been willing to take the risk. What was the difference now? And what was the other option? He couldn't just leave her. If she woke up and saw that he was gone, what would she think? She would assume he had left her, that he wouldn't be coming back, and then … then she probably would lose control of the lightning. And there was no telling how far away he would have to be in order to be a safe distance away.

Besides, it was dark. They had a headlamp, but that was in their bag. The bag that was next to Savannah. The ground was wet and slippery and covered in hailstones. Trying to cover any sort of distance in those conditions wasn't a good idea. It might seem like a good idea from the outside, but…

Coburn took a deep breath. If Cari was trying to give him advice, there was always the chance that she was wrong. She wasn't here. He was. Ultimately, it wasn't her decision; it was his. And his best chance was to wake Savannah up before things got really out of hand.

Carefully, he took a step closer. Then another. So far, so good. "Savannah!" he called again, hoping that maybe this time she would hear him. Maybe she would wake up. Maybe he wouldn't have to get any closer. He was almost close enough to touch her now. Maybe—

The lightning came out of nowhere. No. No, that wasn't true, Coburn knew as the pain shot through his chest. It hadn't come out of nowhere. It had come from Savannah – just like he had known it might. He dropped to his knees, barely aware of the sound of his own screams as he toppled forward.

He landed on something soft.

Savannah Kingston, 18

Something landed on her.

Savannah's eyes flew open as she sat up, bolts of lightning shooting everywhere as she scrambled out from under—

Coburn. Savannah sprang back, trying desperately to redirect the lightning that was shooting out of her hands, her chest, her head. She'd just been so startled. Startled right out of a nightmare, too. Lightning flashed up into the sky as she took another step back, and then another. She wanted to rush to him, to make sure he was all right, to see if he was breathing. But if she did that now, she would only make things worse. If only someone else was here.

If only Lilith was here.

If only Lilith was alive.

Savannah clenched her fists tightly as the lightning finally began to subside. Lilith was dead. But she and Coburn had promised Lilith that they would help each other. Coburn had been trying to help her. He had probably been trying to wake her up, and—

As soon as the lightning stopped, Savannah rushed to Coburn's side, grabbing his wrist, feeling for a pulse. There wasn't one. His shirt was burned through where the lightning had struck him. There were scorch marks on his hands, as if he'd been trying to shield himself.

It hadn't helped.

Savannah could feel a lump forming in her throat. No. No, he couldn't be dead. She quickly tore through the rest of his shirt, exposing his chest. How did CPR go again? She had to find the right spot – she knew that. Her hands were shaking as she clenched her left one into a fist, then wrapped the other around it. That was right, wasn't it?

Breathe.

It was all she could do to hold back the lightning as she pressed her fist against his chest. One. Two. Three. Little flickers of lightning danced across her fingers. Not now. Not while she was trying to save him. She had to touch him to save him.

Unless maybe—

No. No, she didn't have that sort of control. Doctors used a shock to restart people's hearts, she knew, but it had to be exactly the right strength. Too much, and she could—

What? Kill him? If it didn't work, he was dead anyway, and she wasn't going to be able to hold the lightning back much longer. She stood up, took a few steps back, and took a deep breath. Please. Please let this work.

The lightning struck. Nothing happened. Nothing happened the second time, either, or the third. Savannah sank to her knees, lightning shooting up into the sky to meet the hail that was coming down. Coburn's jacket was smoking where the lightning had struck, but that was the only movement. He was dead.

He was dead because he had stayed.

He had tried to help her.

Savannah buried her face in her hands. She could feel the lightning shooting off in every direction, but she didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. Anyone stupid enough to come after her now wouldn't get very close. And even if they did … well, maybe it would be what she deserved. Maybe it would be better than having to live with … with this. She almost hoped someone would find her. Maybe it would be better that way.

Anything would be better than this.

Rick Clifton, 19

They knew better this time.

Rick glanced over at Vi as the lightning continued to light up the sky. Vi shook his head. "Nope. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. There are plenty of other contestants to go after."

Rick let himself relax a little. At least Vi wasn't going to suggest going after the girl who could shoot lightning a second time. Besides, it wasn't as if they hadn't known where she was. Judging from the direction the lightning was coming from, her position hadn't changed much. Maybe a bit farther away, but roughly the same direction. If they'd wanted to find her again, they probably wouldn't have had much difficulty.

But fighting someone who could control lightning in this sort of weather? Not a good idea. It hadn't even been a good idea when there hadn't been a storm. There were some fights they just wouldn't be able to win.

Rick drummed his fingers on his leg. That wasn't exactly a welcome thought. Because if they were going to win this thing, they were eventually going to have to fight some of the stronger contestants. They couldn't keep picking off the weaker ones and hoping that the others would kill each other off. Because if that lightning was anything to go by, that wasn't going to happen. How could they kill someone who could zap them to death before they even got close? How could anyone be expected to win that fight?

In fact, could they really be expected to win a fight against anyone who was left? They'd only actually won one fight – and that had been at the very start of the Games, against a pair of terrified little kids. Since then, they'd gotten their asses handed to them at every turn, and now they were hiding under a sleeping bag, waiting for the weather to clear up. Weather that he was responsible for, and he couldn't even control it well enough to keep the hail away from them.

Rick clenched his fists and peeked out from under the sleeping bag. The hail was getting smaller, and didn't seem to be coming down as quickly. It was still dark, but that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. He'd turned on a flashlight long enough to glance at his watch a little while ago. If it was still working correctly, it was almost eight in the evening. It wouldn't be light until the next morning.

Slowly, Rick got to his feet. Almost instantly, Vi was standing beside him, holding out a flashlight. "Ready to go?" Vi asked.

Rick blinked. How had he known? Maybe he'd been able to tell that Rick was getting impatient. Maybe he was getting restless, too. They'd spent the entire day hiding from a storm he should have been able to stop. The werewolf hadn't found them, which had been the entire reason he'd wanted it to rain in the first place, but they hadn't made any progress either. And now—

Now they could. There was a good chance no one else would be moving right now. It was dark. The ground was still slippery. And there was still a little hail coming down. But he was sure they were pretty close to the circle by now. At least they could get there before morning, stock up on supplies, and then be ready to set out when it was light.

But set out where?

Rick shook the thought from his head. They could figure that out in the morning. Maybe there would even be someone else at the circle. Maybe someone would have figured that it would be a good place to hide. Maybe someone else would have wanted to come back for supplies. If they got there soon, maybe they could catch the other contestants by surprise, if there was anyone there. After all, that was the only strategy that seemed to have worked for them so far. They'd caught the pair in the tunnels by surprise at the start of the Games, and they had won. Maybe the same trick would work twice.

It was a long shot, but it was something. And he didn't exactly have a better plan. Vi didn't seem to, either, because he said nothing as they set out in the direction of the circle. For now, though, it was enough that they were moving. Sure, they were moving slowly, carefully, because the ground was slippery from the hail, and because Vi's leg was still slowing him down. But they didn't have to be moving quickly. They just had to keep making progress.

That was good enough for now.

Piper Galligan, 18

"I wasn't strong enough."

Piper wrapped an arm around Cari's shoulders, holding her tightly as Cari's emotions washed over her. "It's not your fault," she insisted. "You did everything you could."

"That's the point!" Cari was sobbing now. "I tried as hard as I could, and it wasn't enough. I tried to warn him, tried to tell him to leave, but I knew he wouldn't. I just knew it. He couldn't leave her, and I was so stupid to expect him to."

Piper shook her head. Not stupid. Desperate. There hadn't really been any other option. There was nothing more Cari could have done. "It's not your fault," she repeated. "It's theirs. It's their fault – the MAAB. All of this – it's on them."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" Cari's voice was bitter now, but Piper didn't let go. That was the pain talking – the pain of losing Coburn, the frustration of being unable to do anything to stop it, the anger at being so helpless, sitting here safely while her brother was…

Dead. Her brother was dead. Piper held Cari even tighter. "Yes. Yes, that's what I tell myself. That's how I live with it. Because it's true. Whatever happens in the Games, happens because they created the Games. It all goes back to them. All of it."

For a moment, there was silence – silence broken only by the sound of Cari's breathing, ragged and quick, trying to control her tears. Trying to control her emotions as they swept through the room. Grief. Anger. Pain.

A creaking from the direction of the door briefly drew Piper's attention. She quickly glanced a few seconds into the future, then relaxed and nodded as Magneto entered. "You saw what happened?" Piper asked quietly.

"Saw and felt. I had no idea your telepathy was that strong, Cari."

Cari winced. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Never apologize for using your gifts."

Despite herself, Piper couldn't stop a flicker of a smile. Magneto had told her the same thing when they'd first met, and she hadn't forgotten.

"Bet you wouldn't say that to Savannah right now," Cari mumbled.

"She wasn't at fault for—"

"I know. I know. It's just so—"

"Unfair."

"Yes. He just wanted to help her."

"To help her control her power."

"Yes."

"To harness it."

"Yes."

"That's the opportunity all of us should have."

"Exactly!" Cari was shaking. "Coburn never got that chance, either. He was so scared of what could happen, he tried to hide what he could do rather than learn how to control it. But he was right to be scared. Look where it got him!" She sniffed back a few tears. "He wasn't even on the MAAB's list originally, you know. They just came and picked him up too because our stepmother panicked. He would still be alive if…"

For a moment, there was silence. When Magneto finally spoke, his voice was low. "People should hear that."

Piper didn't need to glance into the future to see where he was going. "No way in hell."

"Snowy Owl—"

"After what she just went through? She just lost her brother, and now you want her to—"

"What is it?" Cari asked. "What do you want me to do?"

"Take Piper's place during tonight's broadcast. Tell your story. Tell Coburn's story."

"What good will that do? He's dead."

"I know. Believe me, Cari, I know. But that rage you're feeling – you can let it fester, or you can use it. Take the pain they've inflicted on you and turn it into a weapon. Use it against them before it has a chance to consume you. It's your choice, Cari."

Except there wasn't a choice. Not when he put it like that. But Piper said nothing, because as much as she hated it, he was right. He was giving Cari a chance to do something constructive with her grief. A chance to lash out at the people who really deserved it. A chance to set the record straight, to speak up for her brother even if it wouldn't do him any good. Even if there was very little chance it would do anyone any good.

This wouldn't change anyone's minds – not really. Anyone who might have been swayed by her story was probably already on their side. And anyone who was already convinced that mutants were dangerous would only see Coburn's death as further proof of that. This wouldn't change anything … except possibly for Cari. The chance to air her feelings, to let her pain out – maybe that was what she needed right now.

She would just have to hope Magneto was right.

"Perhaps there is some hope for this world."