Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: Whew, it's been a while. Sometimes real life happens. Long story short: I got out of teaching, moved to a different state, and got a new job. I'm working at a bank now, and so far, it's a nice change of pace. So ... yeah, that's why the lengthy absence, but now I'm back. :)

Fault

Cecily Evans, 18
Amateur Storm Chaser
March 25, 18:47 MST

It was their own fault.

Cecily couldn't help a smirk as she watched the motion of the storm on the radar screen on her laptop. The system was still heading south, only veering a little to the east, and showed no signs of stopping. Whoever had chosen the location for the Games had done their best to pick somewhere out of the way, but even in the middle of nowhere, if you kept heading in one direction long enough, you would eventually hit something.

From the look of things, that "something" was going to be Grand Junction, Colorado.

Oh, there was no guarantee, of course, that the system would still be producing tornadoes by the time it got there. There had only been one confirmed since the ones that had been caught on camera inside the Games. And that one had been in the middle of nowhere, from the looks of it – a few miles outside a town with a population smaller than her graduating class back in Salina. And the system had just passed through Rock Springs without any more than some hail to show for it.

And of course, there was no guarantee even if there was a tornado that it would go through the city. But even the thought – even the possibility – would be enough to shake some people up. They would be scared.

They should be scared.

And they had no one to blame but themselves.

Cecily clenched her fists as the pickup hit another bump. "Could you try not to hit all the potholes?" she grumbled, even though she knew Olivia was doing her best.

Olivia rolled her eyes quickly before turning her attention back to the path ahead. "Technically not even potholes. There has to be some sort of road in order for it to be a pothole. People really drive on this?"

"It had a road sign, didn't it?"

"Had. About five miles back that way."

"Look, if you want to head back to the main road—"

"You said we'd get closer if we went this way."

"Yeah, but…" She trailed off. But it's not an exact science. That was what she wanted to say. And it wasn't. This far away, she could tell there were frightened people up ahead … somewhere. The radar data from hours ago could tell them where the tornadoes had been, but people … people were harder. They were headed in the right direction, but whether they would be able to get there undetected, or whether they could find anyone once they were there … that was different.

Still, it was a chance to do something. And right now, doing something – doing anything – was better than doing nothing. They'd both been following the Games. Watching as the government tried to frame their friends as monsters because of how they were acting in an impossible situation. They'd both been itching to do something.

And now they had the chance.

Kiara Moore, 15

She'd never had a chance.

Kiara held Fae close, tears streaming down her face, as the two of them sat beside Iola's body. She'd shifted back to her own shape as she'd died, her body beaten and broken where the debris had hit her. The debris that could have hit them instead, if she hadn't been there. If she hadn't shielded them with her own body.

There hadn't been another choice. Even if she hadn't been preoccupied with healing Fae, she still might not have been able to save Iola. There were simply too many injuries. One after another after another. She'd known what she was doing when she'd thrown herself on top of them. She'd probably known she wouldn't survive it.

No one could have survived it.

Unless…

Kiara bit back the thought. It wouldn't help anything. She held Fae even tighter, running her hand over a few smaller scratches and bruises as the rain washed over them. Just rain now, and even that seemed to be letting up. Maybe that meant the storm was moving on, but that didn't matter now. The damage was done.

Except it did matter. Kiara drew a shaky breath and forced herself to stand. They were still alive – her and Fae. Two of them. And two of them could survive. Henry was gone. Iola was dead. But she didn't have to lose anyone else. She and Fae could both make it out. Kiara held out a hand to Fae. "Let's go."

Fae wiped the tears from her eyes. "Where?"

Away from here. As far away as possible – that was where she wanted to be. After a moment, she gestured towards the circle – or at least, the direction she was pretty sure the circle was in. "That way."

"Why that way?"

Kiara nodded to the bag she'd been carrying – the bag whose contents were now strewn all over the ground. Some of it might be salvageable, but not much. What hadn't been ripped or spilled was covered in blood. She reached down and retrieved one of the water bottles, barely half full and leaking from a hole in the side. "That's why. If we want to survive, we're going to need some more supplies."

"But Iola—"

"—would want us to get going. She would want us to survive."

"What about the body?" Fae asked softly.

"I don't know," Kiara admitted. "I don't know what they've been doing with them." They'd left the other bodies before they could find out. She hadn't really thought about it. "Maybe they're collecting them."

"We can't just leave her."

"Look, unless we're planning to use her for food, that's probably the best thing we can do."

Stupid thing to say. She knew that as soon as she saw the look of horror on Fae's face. But she was just so … so angry. So tired. Healing Fae had really taken it out of her, and now…

She wanted to sleep. She wanted to scream. But neither of those things would help, so she took a deep breath. "Iola would want us to survive," she repeated, as much to herself as to Fae. "She would want us to live, and in order to do that, we're going to need supplies. And if we want more supplies, we have to go back that way. That's just the way it is." She held out her hand again. "Now let's go."

This time, Fae took her hand, and Kiara helped the younger girl to her feet. They stuffed what supplies looked worth saving into the bag and set out. It was slow going, but that was okay. At least they were going. Away from the body. Away from the reminder of what she hadn't been able to stop. And towards—

Shit. Kiara froze in mid-step, then took a step backwards. "What is it?" Fae whispered.

"Up ahead. There's someone there."

Fae squinted in the dim light. "I don't see anyone."

"I can feel them."

"How can you—"

"Because they're hurt."

"You can tell that?"

"Only if they're close. Very close. And if they're this close and they haven't attacked us…"

She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to. Fae nodded and drew the knife out of her pocket. Kiara reached into her pocket and pulled out the pair of earplugs. Whoever was there, if they hadn't attacked yet, they probably weren't looking for a fight. They would be easy pickings, as long as she and Fae could find them. But she didn't see any people. Just some broken bits of branches and a lot of rocks.

Large rocks.

Kiara held a finger to her lips and took a few steps towards what looked, from a distance, like a large pile of rocks. Closer, she could see that it was a single rock. Or at least, a single rocky creature. One of Henry's golems. And whoever was injured, they were … what? Under it? Inside it? Kiara glanced at Fae, whose face was an open book. She'd reached the same conclusion. Henry was inside the golem. They were injured. Kiara took a step closer, not entirely sure what she intended to do next.

Then she heard a groan.

Henry Helstrom, 14

Someone was groaning.

Henry's eyes shot open in a panic before they realized the groan had come from them. They were alive. They couldn't see much, but that was because the golem still covered them like a suit of armor. A slit near their mouth was letting air in – and with it light. Maybe they could make another one closer to their eyes…

Henry moved their hand a little, meaning to give the golem an instruction to make a couple holes for their eyes, but a wave of pain stopped them. Everything hurt, and moving was only making it worse. They vaguely remembered landing on their side the first time they'd hit the ground. The pain seemed to be worse on their left side, and they could barely move their left arm—

"Yeah, it's broken. Couple of bruised ribs. Nasty bump on the head. Lucky that golem of yours held up; the pressure stopped most of the bleeding, even if the rocks mean you're bruised all over. Impressive, really. Wish we'd been that lucky."

For a moment, Henry said nothing. They recognized Kiara's voice, but there was an edge to her words – a sting that they hadn't expected. Of course, they hadn't really expected to run into her again at all. But maybe they should have. Telling how badly people were hurt was part of her power, after all. Maybe their injuries had drawn her in the right direction. Maybe they'd just gotten lucky – or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it. She could heal them, after all, or…

Or not. Or she could make the injuries worse. Without the golem around them, they might have bled to death – that was what it had sounded like, from what she'd said. If she brought back the full force of that injury when the golem wasn't there…

But the golem was there. Was that the only reason they were still alive? The only reason she had said anything first instead of going straight for the kill? Maybe. Henry had hoped that if they ran into each other again, they might at least … what? Peacefully go their own ways? Maybe. But something had happened. There was a bitterness in Kiara's voice. Wish we'd been that lucky.

That meant one of them hadn't.

Henry's stomach churned, and they moved their right hand a little. The rock shifted a little near their eyes, allowing them to see a little. But not enough. All they could see right now was the sky. Slowly, painfully, Henry maneuvered the golem so that it was sitting up a little. Just enough to see Kiara and—

And Fae. But not Iola. "Iola's dead." It wasn't a question, really. It was obvious. The other two would never have just left her.

Not like Henry had.

Kiara's face was hard. "Yeah."

"How?"

"She saved us from the tornado," Fae said softly. "She shielded us."

"But couldn't Kiara—"

Even though they hadn't finished the sentence, they knew it was the wrong thing to say. Kiara's eyes narrowed. "How dare you."

"I didn't mean—"

"I did everything I could, and it wasn't enough. And where were you?"

"Flying through the air, probably. It's not my fault that—"

"Not your fault?" Kiara took a step forward. "Iola's dead, and all you care about is whether or not it was your fault?"

"That's not what I—"

"That's what everyone wants to say. It's what we want to believe – all of us. It's not our fault. Not my fault. Not your fault. Well, yes it is. All of it. It's all your fault. It's all my fault. It's everyone's fault. Or maybe that means it's no one's fault. Or maybe it doesn't matter one damn bit, because the result is the same. Iola's dead, just the same."

She was panting now, but she hadn't moved any closer. "Okay," Henry said slowly. "Okay, you're right. It is my fault. I lied. I left you. And now she's dead." They braced themself. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"If it weren't for that damn suit of armor, I could kill you right now."

"I know. Too bad you don't have a sledgehammer, huh?"

"How do you know I don't?"

"I'm still alive." They were pushing their luck, they knew, but how much worse could it get? She couldn't do anything if she couldn't touch them. And Fae…

Fae looked like she was about to cry. Or more accurately, like she was going to continue crying. She took a step forward, meeting Henry's gaze as much as she could through the holes in the rock. "You could have done something," she whispered.

Her voice was quiet. Soft. But there was something else. For a split second, Henry felt their control over the golem slip. Shit. That had happened occasionally while she was singing during training. They hadn't known she could do it simply by talking. Maybe she didn't know. But it was only a matter of time before she figured it out, or started singing. And once they lost control of the golem…

Would she think of that? Using her music as a weapon? Maybe. A week ago, certainly not. Now…

Henry swallowed hard as they realized they had no idea what Fae might be capable of now. Henry was in no condition to fight. Even if they could create another golem, they weren't at all certain they would be able to control it and this one at the same time. And if they lost control of this golem, it was over. And if Fae lulled them into losing control of the golem, it was over.

But there was another option. She had another weapon. If they could get her to use that first…

Given the choice between losing my hearing and losing my life, I know what I'd pick. That was what they had told Vincent during training. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was still true.

Okay, then.

"Yes," Henry agreed, their voice as calm as they could manage. "I could have done something. But I didn't. I made a choice. I chose to protect myself. I'm not going to apologize for that."

Something in Fae's expression changed. "Then neither am I." Fae turned to Kiara. "Put them in."

For a brief second, Kiara looked surprised. Then she put something in her ears. Bingo. Henry made a show of trying to get the golem to stand. To run. But they couldn't even make it to their feet. Too late, they wondered whether the rock and dirt in the golem would muffle the sound of the scream. It didn't. It just made it echo.

But only for a moment.

Fae Tomasini, 13

For a moment, she thought something else might happen.

Fae stood silently, staring at the golem that lay motionless on the ground, wondering what she'd been expecting. Had she been expecting it to disappear, to melt away and leave Henry there in front of them? Maybe. Maybe part of her had hoped that the scream might distract them enough for them to lose control over the golem, and then maybe Kiara could…

What? Kill them? Was that really what she wanted? She wasn't sure. But Henry was as good as dead now, anyway, alone out here, injured, deaf, unable to fend for themself. Of course, that was probably what they'd thought about Iola, and…

And Iola was dead. She'd lasted longer than most people probably thought she would have, but she was dead, all the same. Just as dead as she would have been if that vampire had killed her at the start of the Games. Just as dead as Henry would be, soon enough. Fae's stomach churned at the thought, but it was what had to happen. Two of them could survive, and she wanted to be one of them.

And Kiara deserved to be the other. She had tried so hard. She had saved Fae's life. She had stayed with the group. She had protected them.

Henry hadn't.

It was that simple.

Fae gave Kiara's hand a squeeze, and the older girl removed her earplugs. "Now what?" Kiara whispered, then apparently realized whispering was pointless, and repeated the question louder. "What do we do now?"

"We leave," Fae answered.

"What, just like that?"

Fae cocked her head. "What was your plan?"

Kiara looked away. She hadn't had a plan. No, that wasn't quite right. She'd had a plan; they'd simply gotten sidetracked. "Your plan was to head back to the circle," Fae answered when Kiara didn't. "Get some more supplies. Let's go."

Kiara's gaze flickered to where Henry still lay on the ground inside the golem. For a moment, she looked like she was about to say something, but she apparently decided against it. There wasn't anything left to say. And it wasn't as if Henry would be able to hear them if she said something snappy, something bitter. She would only be saying it for the benefit of the cameras. Maybe she didn't want to give them that satisfaction.

Fae shuddered. Kiara was right; it was Henry's fault. But it wasn't only Henry's fault. The MAAB were the ones who had brought them here, the ones who had told them to fight to the death. They were the ones who were to blame in the end.

But…

But they weren't the only ones to blame.

The rest of them had gone along with it. Most of them, at least. Enough of them. The MAAB had set up the Games, but they had all chosen to play. She had chosen to play.

So this was her fault, too.

The idea was … well, in a way, it was freeing. What she had done to Henry – that was her fault. If Henry died – when Henry died – she would be at least partly to blame. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, if it meant that she and Kiara had a better chance. They deserved to have a better chance. They'd been helping each other – and Iola – while Henry had only been looking out for themself. Maybe that didn't mean Henry deserved to die, but they certainly didn't deserve to live as much as she and Kiara did.

Kiara gave Fae's hand a squeeze as the two of them left. "What?" Fae asked, vaguely aware that Kiara had said something.

"I asked if you're all right," Kiara repeated, not bothering to mask the concern in her voice. "What you did back there…" She trailed off, her voice a little shaky. Was she afraid? Afraid of her?

Fae shook her head. "I'm fine. And so are you. And that's the way it's going to stay." She squeezed Kiara's hand.

"I promise."

Kenji Rose, 12

He'd promised not to do this.

Kenji rolled over, his eyes still shut tight, trying his best to sleep. He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. He'd promised himself he wouldn't go back in time again, after what had happened the last time. He'd only made things worse.

But how much worse could they get?

Florence was dead. Emery was dead. He was all alone.

And it was his fault.

He could have saved them, if only he'd been willing to do this sooner. If he'd gone back days ago, towards the start of the Games, and simply kept Emery and Florence from attacking the other group in the first place, they would never have been in this position. If Florence hadn't lost her hearing, if she hadn't been at such a disadvantage, how would things have played out? Maybe the Games would even be over by now. Maybe they would have won.

Except … they couldn't. Not all three of them. Two survivors – those were the rules. But now there was only one of him. Even if he couldn't save both of them, he could at least save one. All he had to do was go back to just before they'd attacked the two boys. No attack, no tornadoes. Or at least, no tornadoes right on top of them. They could just head in the other direction. Find some other blood to satisfy Florence.

But only if he could get to sleep.

Maybe if he went inside the cave. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was simply too open out here. Maybe he was too vulnerable. After all, if someone found him while he was asleep, that would be the end. Then he wouldn't be able to do anything. And Florence and Emery weren't here to protect him while he slept.

Slowly, Kenji stood up and made his way inside the cave. Not too far, of course. He didn't want to get lost. Except if he succeeded in going back and changing things, it wouldn't matter if he got lost now. Because he wouldn't be here when he woke up. He would be … somewhere else. He wasn't sure exactly what would happen, but it would have to be better than this.

Anything would be better than this.

Kenji took a deep breath and lay down again. The cave was musty and damp, but didn't seem to be in any danger of flooding or collapsing or anything. In any case, the rain had mostly stopped now. He was probably as safe here as he was anywhere in the Games.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus.

All he had to do was sleep…

Rick Clifton, 19

All he had to do was stay here.

Rick leaned back against the wall of the tunnel, staring up at the sky. The rain had finally stopped, but it was growing darker again. This time, though, it was simply because it was getting late. The storms had passed, and as long as he stayed in the tunnels, they weren't likely to resume. Or at least, they weren't likely to be as bad. There might still be rain, of course, but not … well, this.

But…

Rick stared up at the sky. If it weren't for the tornado, he would be dead. Once she'd finished with Vi, the vampire would have made short work of him. It wouldn't have even been a fight. It would have been a slaughter. Just like at the start of the Games, when he and Vi had killed those two kids. They'd never had a chance. He wouldn't have had a chance. Not against a vampire and someone who could move that fast.

His power had saved him. And Vi's power had saved him. That was … certainly something he hadn't expected. His power had been nothing but a nuisance since the Games started, and Vi had spent his time trying to ensure that the MAAB would keep his collar turned on so he wouldn't have to deal with his power. Instead, their powers had saved him.

But it hadn't been enough to save Vi.

Rick took a deep breath and began sorting through some of the supplies that were still in the tunnel. He hadn't managed to find any painkillers yet, and his right shoulder and arm were beginning to throb again. They'd had plenty of supplies, but he'd lost his backpack in the fight, and it didn't seem like the MAAB had refilled the bags in the tunnels since the last time they'd returned to the circle.

Rick shook his head at the thought. Of course they hadn't. They probably had their work cut out for them dealing with all the storms, and restocking his supply of pills probably wasn't too high up on their priority list. There was still plenty of food and water in the tunnels, so he crammed as much as he could into one of the smaller bags. He didn't want to put too much weight on his shoulder – especially if he couldn't find any medicine – and he wasn't planning on going far, but…

But leaving the tunnels did feel like the right move. It was tempting – very tempting – to stay here, with the guarantee that his power wouldn't cause any more harm during the night. But it was too dangerous – especially now that he had no one to keep watch while he was sleeping. If someone found him, that was it.

Of course, that was true no matter where he was, but there was a good chance some of the other contestants would be returning to the circle soon. He probably wasn't the only one who had lost his supplies. Or maybe some of the others would figure out that the tunnels might have been a good place to take shelter during the storm, and come back hoping to find someone there.

Someone who would be an easy target.

Rick shuddered. It was a strategy that had worked for him and Vi, after all – both at the start of the Games and then later when they'd killed the other boy who had happened to come back to the circle at the same time. It was only a matter of time before someone else thought of doing the same thing.

Okay, then. Slowly, carefully, Rick climbed out of the tunnel and looked around. There didn't seem to be anyone around. Rick slung the backpack over his left shoulder. If there had been someone coming from a particular direction, the decision would have been easy: go the other way. Now…

Now he had no idea which way to go. No idea where the other contestants might be. He and Vi had been heading northwest when the vampire had found them, and that was where the tornado had appeared. Maybe that meant there would be fewer contestants that way. After all, they would have wanted to get away from the tornado, right?

Maybe. But there was no telling which direction they might have gone to get away from it. Rick shook his head. He didn't have enough information. He might as well flip a coin. Especially since, even if he did know where the other contestants were, he wasn't really sure whether he should be trying to avoid them or trying to find them. On the one hand, he wasn't really up for another fight. On the other hand…

On the other hand, maybe some of the other contestants weren't, either. And he wouldn't be able to avoid them forever. Sooner or later, either he would find someone, or someone else would find him. And at this point, they weren't likely to want to team up.

Were they?

Was he?

Rick adjusted the pack on his shoulder. Two people could survive. He'd wanted it to be him and Vi. But if that wasn't an option, and if he found someone else – someone else who was alone – then what? Maybe they wouldn't have to fight.

Rick took a deep breath. Too many possibilities. There were too many scenarios, and nothing he could do about them right now. Nothing he could really do until something happened. But whatever was going to happen, it was probably better if it didn't happen here. Anyone coming back to the circle looking for easy pickings probably wouldn't be looking to team up. He had to go somewhere else. Not far, necessarily – just somewhere else.

Just choose. Vi would have chosen by now. He would have just picked a direction and gone with it. Okay. Rick nodded a little and headed west. It was probably just as good as any other direction.

Or just as bad.

Elena Burleigh, 21

It wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Elena grit her teeth as the last of the metal shifted back to skin and bone. Dents had turned into bruises, and her body ached all over, but it wasn't as bad as she had feared. She'd been worried that the damage might be deeper, more permanent, but this … well, it certainly wasn't good, but it was better than what would have happened if she hadn't turned to metal.

Her power had saved her. Maybe saved all of them. And now they could afford to take a little while to recover. Between her bruises and Liv's leg, they'd decided now was as good a time as any to settle down for the night, and fortunately, their supplies had made it through the storm relatively intact. Oh, the backpacks were soaked, and they hadn't really had the chance to dry since the rain had only stopped maybe half an hour or so ago, but the food was still good. That was the important thing.

Everything else … well, they could deal with wet blankets and pillows for the night. Being wet was better than being hurt. Better than being dead.

And they could have died. If the tornado had been just a little closer, or if there had been enough debris to crush them rather than causing some dents. Ever since the MAAB had told them that this was a fight to the death, she'd been afraid of dying in a fight. But that would mean they had a chance to defend themselves, or at the very least, to go down swinging. If the tornado had killed them … It just seemed so pointless.

But it hadn't. They were alive. All three of them. That was more than she'd expected would be true after a week. Last year, the Games had been over by this point, with only two survivors. There were still three of them, and no way of knowing how many others. No way of knowing how much longer the Games might last. They could be near the end now. Or maybe most of the contestants were still alive.

Of course, with that many tornadoes, the second option didn't seem particularly likely, but it wasn't impossible. Maybe some of the others had found somewhere to hide, or had some way of protecting themselves like she had protected Lee and Liv. Or maybe they simply hadn't been close enough to any of the tornadoes to be in any real danger. They had no way of knowing where the other contestants were, either.

In fact, now that she thought about it, there was a lot they didn't know.

If only they had more information.

Except…

Except what good would it really do them right now? If, for example, they knew for a fact that there were, say, fifteen contestants left, what would they do? What would change? They still needed to rest. Whether there were a few contestants left or more than a dozen didn't really make a difference to what they were doing right now. The plan would be the same, so why did it matter?

But it did matter, somehow. It was just that she wasn't sure which was more worrying: the idea that there might be a large number of the others alive, or the idea that they might actually be near the end of the Games. And if both were worrying – albeit for very different reasons – maybe it was better to hope for something in the middle.

Elena shook her head. Even if there were more contestants left now, there would eventually be only a few. There would eventually be two. Only two of them could survive. And if she wanted to be one of them, could she really afford to just wait and wing it and hope that she would come up with a better plan later when she had more information?

But what else was she supposed to do?

Liv Holle, 18

What else were they supposed to do?

Liv shook her head, massaging her leg as the three of them settled down for the night. All in all, it could have been worse. Elena was rather bruised and sore, and her own leg still ached, but they were still in pretty good shape, compared to … well, compared to what could have happened. They didn't really know how the other groups might have fared, so there wasn't really anyone else to compare their situation to. But anyone who hadn't been able to find some sort of shelter from the tornado was probably in pretty bad shape.

So they could probably afford to take a little time to regroup, rest, and prepare for whatever was coming next. And as frustrating as it felt to be doing nothing – to not be making some sort of progress – she knew it was probably the right decision. Rest when you can. That was what Ian had said at the start of the Games. He'd said they should rest and eat when they could, because they didn't know when they might get another opportunity to do so.

So they were resting, and had decided to celebrate the fact that they were still alive by having a few of the chocolate chip cookies along with their pudding and granola bars. Liv turned one of the cookies in her hands, then broke off a piece and ate it. It was a bit stale now and very crumbly, but still very sweet. One small bit of something nice in all this … this ugliness.

Lee nodded. "Doesn't quite seem to fit, does it."

Liv looked up. "What?"

"Cookies. All this." He gestured around them.

Elena chuckled. "Doesn't quite fit the vibe, huh?"

Liv raised an eyebrow. She wasn't wrong, but that was an odd way of putting it. "The vibe?"

Elena shrugged. "The vibe. The aesthetic. The feel." She shook her head. "Look, sitting around eating cookies during a fight to the death is weird. That's all I meant."

Liv nodded. She'd been thinking the same thing, but something about the way Elena had phrased it still felt off. "I wonder why they put cookies in the bags, then."

Lee leaned back against a rock. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the whole idea of the Games is to make mutants look frightening, convince the audience that we're monsters. But … cookies? Elena's right. That's the wrong vibe. It just makes us look more human. So why put them in the bags in the first place?"

"Maybe they were trying to make us homesick," Lee suggested.

Liv shook her head. "But then why give us these? I mean, I don't know about you, but I don't eat stale cookies at home."

Elena chuckled. "Fair enough. But it's been what? A week now? Anything from the start will be a bit stale. What are they supposed to do? Keep sending us fresh food during the Games?"

"They could," Lee pointed out. "They sent the contestants a few things during the Games last year. How much harder would it be to send food?" He took a bite of his cookie. "So if they did … what would you want? Not cookies, I take it?"

"Not cookies," Liv agreed. "Not usually much of a dessert person, really. But there's this lady at our church who makes really good pecan pie, and she always makes sure to save me a piece whenever there's a bake sale."

Elena cocked her head. "Didn't know you were religious."

Liv shrugged. "My family is." She hoped her tone would be enough to get Elena to drop the matter. She had no particular problem with religion as a whole, but if it weren't for her family, she would likely have walked out on a sermon or two about what was 'natural' and what wasn't. "How about you?" she asked. "What would you want besides cookies?"

Elena smiled, as if she'd been waiting for someone to ask. "There's this Mexican restaurant just down the block from where I live…" She trailed off for a moment. "Well, where I used to live. Guess I don't really live there anymore. Anyway, they make the best tamales. I'd want some of those." She raised her voice. "Y'know, if we were ordering takeout or something."

Liv couldn't help a smile. If the MAAB were going to start sending them things, there were certainly things that would be more useful than pecan pie or tamales. They weren't exactly short on food. Still, it was a funny image – one of the people in charge phoning in an order of Mexican food to deliver to the middle of Wyoming. Almost like they were requesting a last meal.

Nope, that wasn't helping. Liv shook the thought from her head. "How about you, Lee?"

"Coffee," Lee answered, stifling a yawn.

Liv nodded. Coffee always made her jittery, but she had to admit, it would be useful for whoever was keeping watch at night, or early in the morning as the case may be.

"I was actually at a cafe getting some coffee with my brothers when they got me," Lee continued. "Never got to drink it. Seems like such a long time ago now, huh?"

Liv nodded. It did. It seemed like ages since the woman had come to her door, pretending she needed to update her registration. Her parents hadn't even been there at the time, and her sister had been up in her room. She'd never even gotten to say goodbye – to her family or to Mel. If she never saw them again…

Liv clenched her fists. She would just have to make sure she did. If she survived this, she wouldn't be going back home, but at least they would have to let her see them again, wouldn't they? She hadn't even thought to ask that.

So she would have to find out for herself.

Frederick Bouvy, 17

They just had to find the entrance.

Frederick held his breath as he shone the flashlight around the rocks, hoping there was no one else around to see it. If Seb wondered why they'd kept heading for the caves even though the storm had died down, he hadn't said anything. Good. Frederick would just have to hope he would have the sense to keep not saying anything – at least until they were inside the caves. Because once they were inside the cave…

It was a long shot. He knew that. But if Seb didn't have a collar, that meant the MAAB couldn't track him. They only knew where he was now because he was with Frederick. Well, that, and they probably had cameras. But would they really have cameras inside a cave? Would they have them everywhere inside a cave?

Would they have them at the other exits to the cave?

All of that was assuming, of course, that there were other exits. He wasn't exactly a cave expert. His parents had taken him to Moaning Caverns when he was younger, but all he really remembered was how huge it had been. If this cave was anything like that on the inside, there would be plenty of places for Seb to hide, or even escape. He might be able to get out of here.

But only if Frederick left him.

Or if he left Frederick, depending on how you looked at it. Either way, the irony wasn't lost on Frederick. Seb had been upset with Frederick for leaving him the first night of the Games, but now his only chance of survival was if they split up, and probably never saw each other again.

Because if he was being honest, Seb stood no chance in the Games right now. He may have been one of the best contenders at the start, but that had been because of his powers, not his attitude. Now, without his powers, he was as good as dead as soon as someone besides Frederick found him. The Games simply weren't designed for someone like him.

But he didn't have to be a part of the Games anymore. He had no powers. No collar. Once the MAAB lost track of him – if they lost track of him – they might not be able to find him again. Or even if they could, they might not bother. Did he even count as a mutant anymore? Or would they see him as one of them?

Frederick shook his head. Even if they did, he couldn't count on them simply letting him go. If they were going to come and rescue him from the Games, they would have done it by now. But if there was a chance they would simply let him go if he escaped on his own, then Frederick had to help.

Except he didn't have to. He was choosing to. He had a choice, a chance to do something right in the middle of all this … this wrongness. It was a chance he hadn't expected to have, and it felt good to take it. In the middle of a fight to the death, he had the chance to save a life.

If he was right.

If the caves had another exit.

If no one caught them.

If, if, if…

But it was worth it, because the idea of denying the MAAB what they wanted – to prove that mutants were all monsters – felt good. Maybe spite wasn't exactly the purest motive, but if it helped him and saved Seb, then he certainly wasn't going to argue.

He could only hope Seb wouldn't, either.

Seb

He could only hope Frederick knew what he was doing.

Seb watched silently as Frederick's flashlight finally found the opening he'd been looking for. Why, exactly, they were still looking for the entrance to the cave, Seb wasn't really sure. After all, the storm seemed to have passed. Sure, there could always be another one, but Frederick couldn't really be planning to hide in a cave for the rest of the Games, could he?

Maybe. Seb and Alphonso had been planning to hide in a house, after all. Except it hadn't worked. And Frederick had known from the start that it wouldn't work. He had left the first night of the Games because he had known that staying would only make them a target, only get them killed. So what made this different?

Maybe the fact that they would be harder to spot. A house in the middle of nowhere had certainly stood out, while Frederick had trouble finding the entrance to the cave even though he'd known it was there. The other contestants weren't likely to just stumble across the cave by accident. They would have to know what they were looking for.

But some of them would know what they were looking for. Frederick had said that he'd found the cave in the first place because he'd been following the vampire. That meant that her group, at least, knew where the cave was. That seemed like a good enough reason to stay far away.

Except…

Except Frederick had been adamant that they keep going. Seb could only assume that meant he had a plan. Something he didn't want to say out loud, maybe. Which was silly, really, because the only reason for keeping quiet would be if he didn't want the MAAB to know what they were planning. But they probably had enough cameras everywhere to hear and see what they were doing, anyway, or some sort of tracking device or microphone or something in their collars.

In Frederick's collar. Seb ran his hand along his neck. He didn't have a collar anymore. Maybe Frederick had noticed. Maybe that was part of the plan.

Seb just hoped he had a plan.

Carefully, the pair of them cleared some of the rocks away from the entrance. Compared to the rest of the area, though, the entrance was already mostly clear. Nearby, trees had been blown down, branches ripped off and strewn across the ground, rocks scattered here and there, but the entrance … Once Frederick's flashlight had landed on the right spot, there hadn't been much work to do. Did that mean someone was already inside?

Seb glanced up at Frederick, who shrugged. Whatever his plan was, he didn't seem bothered by the idea that someone else might be around. Maybe he figured they could handle whoever might be inside. Maybe he was assuming someone who was still inside hiding from the storm wouldn't be looking for a fight. Maybe they would be injured, or taking the opportunity to rest. Or maybe there was no one inside at all. Maybe they had taken shelter during the storm and then left afterwards, not wanting to be caught inside if someone else came looking.

Maybe.

Frederick reached into his pocket and drew something out. A gun – one of the pistols that Seb had written that first night. Seb shuddered as the images came back. The girl holding the gun she'd taken off Alphonso's corpse. Pointing it at him. Pulling the trigger…

"You all right?" Frederick asked.

"Yeah," Seb lied. "Just didn't realize you still had that."

Frederick nodded. "Still got six shots, too. Just in case."

Just in case. At least Frederick had realized, too, that they might not be alone. But what good would a gun be against … well, whoever might be in the cave? Would a gun kill a vampire? A werewolf? Didn't you need silver bullets or something like that? And he was pretty sure he hadn't written silver bullets into the gun.

Seb took a deep breath as Frederick lowered himself through the cave entrance. He didn't have to follow. He could still turn and run. He could do what Frederick had done. He could leave. He could just … leave.

Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself through the entrance. It was musty inside. The ground was wet. And it was darker than he'd imagined, even with the light coming from the flashlight.

But at least he didn't see anyone else.

Lea Cervantes, 18

She didn't have anyone else.

Lea pulled her jacket tighter, shivering as the night air grew colder. She hadn't realized until now just how much Elio had been keeping her warm. Maybe it wasn't quite freezing cold, but it was certainly colder than it had been. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was hungry. Thirsty. Tired. All the things she hadn't really been since the start of the Games, thanks to Elio. They'd done more than keep each other company; they'd kept each other alive. Now all of that was gone. It wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

Lea clenched her fists and forced herself to her feet. Maybe it didn't matter what was right. Elio had wanted to do what was right – what God wanted him to do – and where had it gotten him? It had gotten him paralyzed. It had gotten him killed. And it had gotten her God knew how many miles from anywhere where there would be food. Trying to do the right thing had gotten her here, and now she was stuck.

But she didn't have to stay stuck. She pulled her jacket tighter and took a few shaky steps. Then a few more. North. They'd been heading south for days, so she just had to keep going north to get back to the circle where the Games had started. Back to where there was food and shelter. There would be water along the way. She just had to keep going, and then…

Then what? Give in? Play the Games the way the MAAB wanted? Maybe. Maybe not. It wasn't an easy choice, but at least she would be alive to make the choice, which was more than she would be able to say if she stayed here. Here, there was nothing. If she went back, she had a chance. A slim chance, maybe, but that was better than no chance at all.

Any chance was better than no chance. Better than nothing. Because if she had no chance – if she died – then that meant that Elio had died for nothing. He had saved her, but what did that mean if she didn't live? He would have died to give her … what? A few more days of running for her life? No, she had to make it out of here, or his sacrifice was just so … so pointless. All of this was pointless.

Lea shivered. It was pointless. It always had been. What was the MAAB trying to prove? That given the choice between killing and dying, most mutants would choose to kill? But that was just as true for regular humans as it was for mutants. The frustrating part, though, was that it wouldn't matter. People would eat it up. People would believe that they were better – that they would never behave the same ways as those poor, desperate, animal-like mutants – because that was what they wanted to believe. They wanted to live in a world where it was true; she knew that.

Because that was the world she had wanted to believe in. She had wanted to believe that she and Elio were different. That they could simply choose to do the right thing, and everything would work out. That the others could do the same, if they simply wanted to. It had been easier to believe that the others had chosen to play the Games because they hadn't wanted to make the hard decision that she and Elio had.

The hard decision. The right decision. That was what it had seemed like. Now it just felt like the stupid decision. Maybe the moral decision, but pointlessly moral. What had it meant, in the end? Who cared that Elio had died doing the right thing rather than dying fighting? God, maybe. But if he cared so damn much, then why had he let it happen? Why was Elio dead, while there were others who had done much worse things still alive out there?

Or at least, she assumed the others had been doing worse things. Horrible things. The others. The ones who had chosen to fight. But she wasn't any different than them. Any better than them. Not really. Not now.

She couldn't be, if she wanted to live.

Savannah Kingston, 19

If she wanted to stop for the night, it would probably have to be soon.

Savannah rubbed her eyes and stared off into the darkness. It was nearly pitch black now, the moon and stars hidden behind the thick clouds. Just clouds, it seemed; it had stopped raining a while ago, and she had started heading back towards the tunnels. But now that it was this dark … well, maybe it was better to stop now and rest while she could, before she got too close to anyone else.

That was an assumption, of course – that there would be more people closer to the tunnels. But it was certainly where she would have gone during a tornado, if she had been close enough. The fact that she hadn't been close enough – that she had been well out of harm's way – that had simply been luck. It would be nice to think it had been the result of strategy, some master plan to keep herself out of the path of danger, but really, she had just gotten lucky.

Savannah shook her head. Even when there had been three of them, they hadn't really had a plan about where to go. They'd wanted to head away from the others, sure, but they'd just happened to go east instead of west, this way instead of that. Hell, they'd literally flipped a coin at one point. Well, a charred rock, but still. There was no master plan. There never had been.

But what else could they have done?

Savannah ran her fingers along the knife in her pocket. She knew the answer to that. She always had, even if she hadn't wanted to admit it to herself. There was something they could have done differently, right from the start. They could have fought. They could have attacked. They would probably have had an advantage in a fight if they'd charged in right at the start.

Instead, they'd run, waited around for other groups to find them, tried to set a trap. A trap that had gotten Lilith killed. If they had simply picked a group at the start and attacked instead of running, things might have been different. Very different. Maybe Lilith and Coburn would still be here with her. Maybe the Games would even be over.

Except … both of those things couldn't be true. One of them was always going to have to die, if she wanted to live. But it didn't have to be both of them. It hadn't had to happen this way. If they had attacked at the start…

But the idea had seemed so … so unthinkable back then. Savannah nearly laughed at that thought. "Back then" had only been about a week ago. The idea of attacking someone – of killing someone – hadn't been something any of them had wanted to consider. They'd wanted to put it off as long as they could, even though all three of them had known that they wouldn't be able to put it off forever. How could they have been so … so naive? If they were going to have to fight eventually, certainly it would have been better to get it over with right away.

Savannah clenched her fists. It was too late for that now. Too late to second-guess the mistakes they'd already made. But she could make sure she didn't make the same mistakes again. She could rest now, while it was dark, but in the morning, she would head back towards the tunnels. And if there was someone there – if there was the chance to make the move she should have made at the start of the Games – then this time she would take it.

She would have to take it.

Wouldn't she?

Savannah lay down and closed her eyes. There was another option. In order for her to make it out alive, most of the other contestants would have to die. But it wouldn't have to be all of them. One other person could survive. If she found someone else – if she had the chance to kill someone else – would it be better to attack, or to ask them to join her? Would they try to kill her, or would they be wondering the same thing? Anyone else who was alone would certainly be asking themselves the same question – whether it was better to kill anyone they came across or look for someone to team up with.

Savannah shuddered. After what had happened to Coburn – after what she had done to Coburn – did she want to risk teaming up with anyone else? Did she want to risk hurting someone else? But the only alternative was facing the rest of the Games alone, having no one to watch her back, no one to stand guard. She was already taking a risk sleeping here, in the open, even though she was pretty sure there was no one nearby. The longer she did that, the more likely it was that someone would simply come across her and kill her in her sleep.

But if she found someone else, joined up with someone else, could she trust them not to do exactly that? She and Lilith and Coburn had spent practically all their training time together, getting to know each other, trust each other, work together as a team. If she came across someone else now, how could she trust them? How could they trust her?

Maybe it was better not to.

Jaime Sanchez, 20

"Maybe it would be better to stop for the night."

Jaime nodded as they and Kylena settled down near a large rock – the only landmark they'd come across since they'd set out an hour or so ago, leaving the debris that the tornado had strewn and heading for where they'd assumed the circle was. Jaime was pretty sure they were still heading the right direction, but in the dark, they could miss the circle by twenty or thirty feet and never know the difference.

Of course, they had flashlights and headlamps – two of each. Jaime couldn't help wondering why the MAAB had even bothered to include those in the bags. Anyone who was moving at night was almost certainly trying not to be seen. All a flashlight would do right now was give away their position, and between their power and Kylena's, they were pretty much relying on having the element of surprise in a fight. The boys at the house hadn't seen them coming. The group with the fire and lightning had known – or at least suspected – that they were being followed. And that had made all the difference.

Fire and lightning. That seemed like such a long time ago. It was hard to believe that it had only been a matter of days. That the Games had started less than a week ago. Two weeks ago, they'd been home with their father, studying for their mid-terms. Now…

Now this.

"I can take the first watch," Jaime offered, and Kylena nodded gratefully. She looked exhausted. She hadn't complained, but keeping her bubble stable long enough to keep them safe from the debris had clearly taken it out of her. Even if they could find their way to the circle, it was probably a good idea to rest before they had to deal with any sort of fight.

Jaime stared out into the darkness. Too dark, really, to see anyone coming. They would just have to hope that the other groups had come to the same conclusion they had – that it was better to rest and recover their strength than to keep going in the dark. And even if there were other groups moving around, anyone who was looking for other contestants would have to get pretty lucky to stumble across the pair of them. And if they had some sort of light to see by, they would be able to see them coming.

Probably. Unless they could see in the dark. Or were navigating by smell or some other sense. But if that was the case – if someone was out there hunting for them – they were probably just as safe here as they would be anywhere else. It wasn't as if they were likely to find a better shelter. Even the tunnels they had been heading back towards wouldn't really be a better spot to stay. In fact, the whole reason they'd been heading back in that direction was in the hope that someone else might have decided that would be a good spot to rest. They had been hoping that maybe they could catch some of the other contestants off guard.

It had worked before, after all.

But it couldn't work forever. Try as they might, Jaime couldn't shake the thought that they couldn't keep getting that lucky. The boys at the house hadn't been expecting an attack. They'd been vulnerable. But the longer the Games lasted, the lower the chances that anyone with that attitude would still be alive, and the more likely they were to come across … well, someone like them. Someone else who was looking to take advantage of another group's weakness. It was only a matter of time – maybe not even a very long time – before they came across a group that was stronger than they were, and just as prepared, just as ready to fight.

What were they supposed to do then? How were they supposed to survive?

Jaime stared out into the darkness. They weren't. That was the point. The MAAB had chosen all of them for the Games, knowing that only two of them would make it out alive. Most of them weren't supposed to survive. And for all they might try to pretend that all of them had an equal chance, they had to have known when they chose the contestants that some powers would be more useful than others in a fight. That some of them would have a better chance than others.

And they knew which category Jaime would be in. Which group Kylena would be in. Making bubbles was certainly useful, and it had kept them safe from the tornado, but it wasn't exactly going to hurt anyone else. And Jaime could transfer pain, but not injuries. They had killed, yes, but they had both killed with weapons, not with their powers. A gun. A knife. If they hadn't had those…

Jaime shook their head. If they hadn't had a gun or a knife, they could have used a rock. A stick. Their fists. They could still fight. But they couldn't pretend the odds were fair. No one could really say they all had an equal chance – just that they had a chance. A small chance, in some cases.

But still a chance.

Caihong Lee, 23

They still had a chance.

Lee stared off into the darkness, trying to convince himself. He'd offered to take the first watch since Liv and Elena were both injured. Between Liv's leg and Elena's bruises, they'd thought it best to stop for the night, and he hadn't argued. Physically, he was in the best condition in the group. If it weren't for the fact that his power wasn't as useful…

Lee shook his head. It didn't seem fair, really, that such a useless power had put him in just as much danger as someone who could create tornadoes on a whim or shoot lightning into the sky or turn into a wolf or run circles around them in the blink of an eye. More danger, really, since he didn't have as good of a way to defend himself.

That was the problem, really, with lumping all mutants in the same group. There were undoubtedly some who were dangerous. Some who had caused real harm – whether deliberately or not. But there were plenty of others who just wanted to live a normal life, their power more of an interesting quirk or perhaps a nuisance than a threat. But to the government, to the MAAB, and to so many people, there wasn't a difference. Mutants were mutants. And mutants were dangerous.

But he wasn't dangerous. Quite a few of the mutants he and Olivia had helped find their way to safety weren't dangerous. They were simply unlucky. Or even if their powers were a bit unpredictable, it was because they were young and untrained, not because they meant to hurt anyone. Their coaches had the right idea, really – teaching young mutants to control their powers so that they wouldn't be a danger. But the government clearly wasn't interested in that, either. They'd decided this was a better plan.

It wasn't. And not just because he was stuck in the middle of it. Even if the government got what they wanted – if mutants were contained in the camps they were organizing – then what? The mutant population was growing, despite everything. What would happen when there were too many of them for the camps? What would happen when they outnumbered regular humans?

Lee shook the thought from his head. They were a long way from that. And right now, it wasn't his problem. His problem was being trapped in here with other mutants who were stronger, whose powers were more useful in a fight.

At the same time, though, he was still alive. He was still in pretty good shape. And who knew how many of the others were dead or badly injured – perhaps even more badly than Liv and Elena.

Who knew? The MAAB knew, of course. But they weren't sharing that information, even though it would undoubtedly be helpful. If there were only a few contestants left, after all, they would probably want to keep going, end the Games as quickly as possible. Whereas if there were still plenty of others left alive, it would be better to rest as long as they could. Since they weren't sure…

It was probably better to err on the side of resting rather than not. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

Lee glanced around at Liv and Elena, then back out into the darkness. The worst that could happen, of course, was that someone could find them. But that could also happen if they were moving. That could happen no matter what they did. No matter how well they played the Games, no matter how much they knew or didn't know, someone might always find them. And eventually, someone would find them.

Or they would find someone else. They'd been following another group for a while, after all. They were heading the other way now, but once they were moving again, they were just as likely to see another group first rather than be spotted. Well, maybe not just as likely, considering none of their group's powers were particularly useful for finding anyone else, but there was no guarantee that any other group's powers were, either. Even if there had been some at the start who would probably be better at tracking and finding other groups, they had no way of knowing whether any of those contestants were still alive.

There was just so much they didn't know.

Kylena Albright, 16

There was just so much they couldn't control.

Kylena rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable position on the ground. But it wasn't really the ground that was keeping her from sleeping. And it certainly wasn't the fact that Jaime was keeping watch. She trusted Jaime. It was just…

It was just that no matter who was keeping watch, it was too damn dark out to see anyone coming before they were practically on top of them. The clouds covering the moon and stars made it pitch black, which had kept them from continuing, but that wasn't a guarantee that it would keep all of the other groups from moving, too. Some of them might have a way to navigate in the dark, or might be willing to risk being spotted with their flashlights or headlamps if it meant making a little more progress towards wherever they were trying to go.

And if they were trying to go somewhere, it would make sense that they would be headed the same place that Jaime and Kylena had been: the circle where all of the tunnels were. That was where the supplies were. That was where some contestants might still be hiding in the tunnels, if they hadn't realized that someone might find them there.

Or maybe … maybe even if they had realized it. The tunnels might be the perfect place to trap someone who was already there, but that might also make it a perfect place for an ambush. If there were still contestants there, maybe they would actually have the element of surprise if someone else came along and hadn't realized that they might be there.

Kylena rolled back over again. It was all too much. Too much guesswork, too much assuming what the other contestants would do when the reality was, they had no way at all of knowing what the other groups might do. Or what sort of condition they were in. Or how many of them were left. It was an equation with too many variables, too many assumptions, and they had no way of knowing whether any of their guesses were right.

No way of knowing until it was too late.

Kylena sighed, trying to shove the thought out of her mind. Stopping to rest wasn't going to do them any good if they didn't use that time to sleep. And she was tired. Or at least, her body was tired. Keeping her bubble stable long enough to shield them from the tornado's debris had been exhausting. Every part of her body was grateful for the rest, and would certainly appreciate the chance to sleep.

But her mind was racing.

She'd been able to protect them so far. Her bubble had kept them safe from the tornado. From the fire that had been hurled at them days ago. The pair of them had killed the boys in the cabin. Outsmarted the dog that had been guarding it. They had played their cards right, yes, but they had also gotten lucky. Very lucky. Lucky the tornado hadn't been a little closer. Lucky there had only been one dog. Lucky the boy with the gun hadn't hit either of them. Lucky no one else had come along and found them while they'd been in the house.

How long could that sort of luck last?

Kylena shifted a little. It couldn't last forever. But it didn't need to. It just needed to last long enough. Long enough for them to survive the Games. And who knew how many contestants were left? They might be close now. There might only be a few of them left.

Maybe their luck only needed to last a little longer.

Secretary Nicholas Wright, 64

How much longer was the storm going to last?

Nicholas shook his head, as if that would change the map on the left-hand screen in front of him. As if it would change the news reports that had been flooding in, filling the screen on the right. The system was still moving south. So far, it had produced two more tornadoes – one just outside Eden, Wyoming, and a second a bit south of Dinosaur, Colorado. So far, the damage had been limited to some fences and power lines in the middle of nowhere, and some hail damage in some of the areas in the storm's path, particularly a few hours ago when it had gone through Rock Springs. So far, there hadn't been any reports of injuries – or deaths.

So far, they had been lucky.

Mack, for his part, seemed as happy as a clam, ready to spin this into proof that the mutant colonies he was proposing were necessary. After all, if mutants like Rick were identified early, if they were provided with collars to control their powers, then incidents like this wouldn't happen. Never mind that dozens of people died every year in non-mutant-related tornadoes. These ones had been caused by a mutant.

Technically, that wasn't quite true. As far as he'd been able to understand from Alvin's technobabble, Rick and Vi's powers had simply amplified the conditions that were already there. They hadn't created the tornado out of nowhere. But that sort of nuance didn't usually factor into an online debate, and Mack was having a field day insinuating that maybe the pair of them had even intended for the storm to get out of control, to put ordinary people in danger as one last act of revenge and spite.

Never mind that they had been the ones to turn Vi's collar off.

Never mind that Judah was part of the reason the pair of them had been working together in the first place.

Never mind that the MAAB had chosen two weather manipulators for the Games.

Never mind that Alvin had warned them not to.

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. Whatever happened now, it was partly their fault. If someone innocent was hurt or killed, what would happen then? Would the public start to ask why they had been so careless? Or would Mack be able to use that, too, as even more fuel for his arguments?

Nicholas looked up as the door opened. Alvin, holding a stack of files. Damn. He sighed and muted the computer. "Look, if you came to say you told us so…"

Alvin set the files down on the table. "Wouldn't dream of it. Francine wanted you to know that she's almost finished replacing the cameras."

"Good. How are things looking inside the cave?"

"We're still getting a signal from both Kenji and Frederick's collars. And the microphone in Frederick's, as far as we can tell, is picking up two people breathing."

"So Seb is still with him."

"As far as we can tell, yes."

"Is Kenji still asleep?"

Alvin shrugged. "Again, as far as we can tell, yes. He's not moving, and his breathing is regular and shallow, so … probably."

"Are they anywhere near each other?"

"Not particularly, but Frederick hasn't been following any consistent pattern. We don't know what the layout is like down there, so he may happen to find a passage that brings him closer. Why?"

"Just something to keep an eye on, in case we want to turn Kenji's collar back off." They'd only turned it on, after all, in order to keep him from going back in time in his sleep. They'd never meant to leave him vulnerable. If Frederick and Seb found him now, he was as good as dead. Of course, if they found him while he was asleep, it didn't really matter whether his collar was on or off. But if they happened to wake him up first…

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Francine burst into the room. "Alvin? Nicholas? You're going to want to take a look at this."

She hurried over to the computer and turned it to face Alvin, who immediately began adjusting the display and swearing under his breath. "You didn't listen. No one ever listens."

"What is it?"

He pointed to a red-and-yellow hook shape on the map. "We've got rotation on the cell just north of Grand Junction."

"In English, Alvin."

"There's a radar-indicated tornado heading for—"

"Radar-indicated? What does that mean? Can they see it?"

"Nicholas, it's nighttime. They're not going to see it until it's right on top of them – which won't take long."

"Damn. Is there anything we can do?"

"Besides apologize? No."

"Apologize?"

"You heard me. We caused this. This is our fault. If anyone ends up dead, that's on us."

"Rick and Vi—"

"Would never have been in a position to cause this sort of event if they weren't in a fight to the death. Mack may be able to fool enough people on the internet, but he hasn't fooled me … and I don't think he's fooled you, either. We're responsible. Plain and simple."

Nicholas shook his head. "Anything else?"

Alvin glanced at the stack of papers he'd left on the other side of the table. "Actually, there was something else. Remember what I said earlier about wild cards?"

Nicholas leaned back. "I meant anything else that's important. Whatever your wild cards are doing, is it more important than a tornado headed for a city in the middle of the night?"

Before Alvin could answer, Francine interrupted. "No. It's not."

"Then it can wait."

Alvin shrugged. "You got it." He scooped up the stack of papers and hurried out of the room, with Francine trailing behind, leaving Nicholas staring at the screen in front of him.

Apologize. But it wasn't their fault. If anything, this was proving their point. This was exactly the reason mutants needed to be controlled. This was exactly why the Games existed.

It wasn't their fault.

"Not my fault? Not my fault! You sound like every human employee I ever fired! Crush all of them together and you couldn't squeeze one iota of personal integrity from the lot! No excuses, creature! Learn to take responsibility for your own actions! And stop whining!"