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Prepared
Penelope – 098, 13
March 25, 23:42 MST
He hadn't been prepared for this.
Penelope watched as Vincent stared blankly at the screens, one of which showed Fae and Kiara, one of the few groups still on the move. Moving away from Henry, who hadn't budged since the other two had left. Whatever Vincent had been expecting if the pair of them found Henry again, it hadn't been this. But what had he been expecting?
"She just wanted to help," Vincent muttered softly, his eyes still not leaving the screen. "She wanted to contribute. I didn't want her to blame herself. Never thought she'd end up blaming Henry instead. Henry only lied because I asked them to. I begged them not to tell Fae, and now … this."
Ian took a step closer, into the path of the fan. "You couldn't have known—"
"I should have," Vincent snapped, turning in his chair and springing to his feet, only to immediately start swaying. He reached out a hand to steady himself, but there was nothing to grab hold of.
Penelope caught his hand firmly, placing it on her shoulder, steadying him. Maybe, she agreed. Maybe the truth would be better than a comforting lie. Maybe you should have. But you didn't. Just like I didn't realize that hiding in the tunnels at the start would get Joseph and Alannah killed. Just like none of us realized getting too close to the border would get Manaka and Marcus shocked. We can't see everything coming.
"But if Henry had just told them the truth…"
Then what? Then maybe Fae thinks twice about screaming, knowing the effect it'll have on Iola, and maybe Florence takes advantage of that and manages to kill one of them then.
"Maybe, but—"
That's the point. Maybe. We don't know. We'll never know. She shook her head, remembering what Ian had told her at the start of the Games. And if we don't find some way to deal with that, it'll eat us up.
Vincent nodded weakly and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You're right. It's just … easier said than done."
"Henry is still alive, though," Maria pointed out. Henry hadn't moved, and they were still hidden inside the golem, but their collar was still transmitting their location. The other contestants' collars had disappeared from the map on the screen after they'd died.
Vincent gave Maria a look. Then, making his point far more succinctly than words would have, he removed his hand from Penelope's shoulder and staggered back towards his chair, nearly falling before he caught himself on the backrest. Penelope said nothing. Iola and Florence had lasted longer than any of them had thought after Fae's scream had crippled them, but they'd both had help. Henry was alone, unless you counted the golems, and it was apparently taking all of Henry's concentration just to control the one that was surrounding them.
Penelope turned as the door opened, revealing Anita. Penelope raised an eyebrow at the object she was holding – a cane, which she quickly offered to Vincent. "I thought you might—" she started, before catching herself and stepping into a better position for Vincent to hear her thoughts.
Vincent relaxed his grip on the back of the chair and accepted the cane instead. "Thank you." But the words were flat, his expression a mask. Something else was going on. Something else was being communicated. "But you didn't come here just to give me this."
"No." She pulled out her cell phone. "I wanted to keep the four of you in the loop, and the others are … occupied."
"With what?" Ian asked bitterly.
"With this." She turned the screen to face them. A video clip showed flashes from power lines amid rain, lightning, and a terrible rumbling noise. One of the flashes illuminated the tornado, dark and towering and plowing towards the city in front of it.
Ian's tone changed immediately. "Where?"
"Grand Junction, Colorado. It's all right. We're in contact with your cousin Monica and her family. They're safe."
"How did you know—"
"That you had family there? Please. Compared to some of the contestants, your family isn't exactly hard to trace, and they're not actively trying to hide."
Ian nodded, apparently deciding now wasn't the time to complain about the MAAB keeping tabs on his family – not when it meant knowing for certain that they were safe. "How bad is it?"
"Bad." She circled around the room, pacing anxiously. Or at least, in a way that was probably meant to appear anxious, but just so happened to mean she was alternating positions where Vincent could pick up her thoughts and vice versa. "At least two people are dead, several more in critical condition, and that's just the reports we have so far. They had some warning, but there will always be people who don't take the warnings seriously or don't get the message in time."
"Or don't have anywhere else to go," Vincent finished, and Penelope wondered if he knew how sharp his words sounded. He didn't have to finish the thought. Living on the streets was harsh at the best of times. During something like this…
Anita ignored the jab. "We won't have a full picture until morning, but we've dispatched a number of Sentinels to help with rescue and cleanup efforts."
Penelope kept her expression deadpan. She didn't have to be able to pick up Anita's thoughts to hear what she was really saying. The MAAB would be distracted. There would be fewer Sentinels. There was a window – a short window – where they might be able to do something. They couldn't save everyone, but…
"How very humanitarian of you," Maria mumbled.
Anita circled the room again, ignoring the comment. "I guess that's it. Just thought you should know. Let me know if there's anything else you need."
"Don't you think you've done enough?" Vincent asked, but there was something just a little off about the words, as if he was reading them off a script.
Anita headed for the door. "I guess we'll find out."
As soon as she was gone, Penelope and Vincent immediately shifted position. Vincent swayed a little, but managed to remain upright as Maria and Ian caught on, positioning themselves next to Penelope. There was a hint of a smile on Vincent's lips as he nodded at Penelope. Okay, then. His gaze turned to the screens again.
Here's the plan.
Frederick Bouvy, 17
This hadn't been part of the plan.
Frederick clenched his fists, biting back a few choice words as he and Seb turned the corner, facing yet another dead end. He had to admit there hadn't been much of a plan to begin with, but however much of a plan he'd had depended on leaving Seb somewhere where he would be able to find another way out of the cave. But that plan was only going to work if there was another way out of the cave.
Of course, there were still passageways they hadn't explored, but that was the point. They could spend days in here – maybe even weeks – before stumbling on the right one. They had some food, which he'd been planning to split with Seb, but not enough to last weeks, especially when they had no way of knowing how long Seb might be on his own after he made it out. If he made it out. They were in the middle of nowhere. This was probably why the MAAB had chosen somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Just in case something happened. Just in case their plan went wrong.
Frederick shook his head as the pair of them turned around. There it was again. For just a moment – just a tiny fraction of a second – he was sure he'd seen something as they turned. He didn't see anyone now, but just for an instant, he'd been certain they were being watched.
But that didn't make any sense. There had been three boys during the talent show who could move that fast. But one of them had been working with the vampire and the werewolf – the ones he had followed here in the first place, the ones he had stolen from, the ones he had sealed inside the cave. Surely they wouldn't hesitate to attack him if they had the chance.
That left the other two. The ones who were working together. Or at least, they had been working together. Frederick was pretty sure the boy he'd run into while he was running from the vampire and the werewolf – the boy he had spared, the one who had said he would hold them off for a little while – had been one of those two. Maybe he had survived. Maybe he was the one watching them.
But then why hide?
Was it because Frederick wasn't alone anymore? Maybe. Maybe he was playing it safe, unsure whether Seb would be as generous as Frederick had been. But Seb had no reason to want to kill anyone now – not now that he was no longer part of the game. But had whoever was watching them gotten close enough to see that? Close enough to tell that Seb no longer had a collar?
And even if they had been close enough to tell, would they be able to work out what that meant? After all, Henry hadn't. Or at least, they hadn't been certain enough about what it meant to want to stay with both Frederick and Seb. They had run off, and maybe they had made it back to the tunnels in time, but those tornadoes … they'd been in the same area as the circle, as far as he could tell.
As far as he could tell. But he and Seb had been pretty far away by the time the last two tornadoes had plowed through. Maybe Henry had made it. Maybe not. There wasn't much he could do about that right now.
But he could do something about this.
Frederick took a step back towards the passageway they had come from, shining the flashlight ahead of him. "I know you're there."
Immediately, Seb shot him a frantic look. Maybe he hadn't realized someone was following them. Maybe there was no one there. For a moment, Frederick wondered if maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe they weren't being followed at all. Maybe it was just his imagination.
Then a boy stepped out of the shadows. But not the one he'd been expecting. Frederick raised an eyebrow. "You?"
But the boy's gaze was fixed on Seb, his eyes red from tears, his voice shaky as he pointed an accusing finger.
"You're supposed to be dead."
Seb
"You're supposed to be dead."
Seb moved a little to the side, stepping out from behind Frederick. "How did you know that?"
"We saw your body."
Oh. He hadn't thought of that. Of course, on some level, he'd known that his body was still out there somewhere. His other body. His first body. His real body? But the thought that someone might find it and assume he was dead hadn't really occurred to him. Of course, he hadn't really been worried about whether the other contestants thought he was dead or not. On the whole, it was probably better if they did. That way, they wouldn't come looking for him.
"We?" Frederick's question cut through Seb's thoughts. "So you weren't alone then? But I think you are now."
The boy crossed his arms. "How do you know my friends aren't just hiding?"
Frederick shook his head. "Nice bluff, kid. But you were working with a vampire and a werewolf. If they were still with you, you wouldn't be skulking around in the shadows, and both of us would already be dead." He gestured to himself and Seb. "Playing with your food is a cat thing. I don't think that was your friends' style." He shrugged. "That, and the tears. Was it the tornado?"
The boy nodded a little. "Florence. She was sucked up into it, and I don't think…" He trailed off.
Seb nodded. "I don't think she would have survived that, either."
The boy glared. "Just like Emery didn't survive your dog?"
"What?"
"The dog you made. The dog you sent to kill Emery."
"Is that what happened?" Seb asked, too baffled to deny it. "Phantom ran off, but I didn't tell him to. Why would I do that?"
"Why would you want to kill people in a fight to the death? Really?"
Frederick took a step forward. "Look, kid—"
"I'm not a kid anymore!" He took a step forward quickly – very quickly – only stopping when Frederick raised his pistol. "My name's Kenji! Theirs were Emery and Florence. They were people. We're all people. And they're both dead!"
Seb nodded. "And you're not."
Kenji glared. "But you might be soon."
Frederick took a step forward, hanging the flashlight to Seb and slipping a glove off instead. "Maybe. Or maybe not. You really think you're that fast? Faster than a bullet? Or maybe fast enough to grab the gun first – is that what you're thinking? You sure you'll be able to do it before I touch you?"
Seb blinked. Was he bluffing? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it didn't matter, because the boy looked ready to try his luck. Maybe he figured he didn't have anything to lose. After all, both of his teammates were dead. Dead, just like Alphonso. Seb shook his head. He hadn't been able to save Alphonso. Just like he hadn't been able to save his uncle Niklas. But maybe there was something he could do to save Frederick.
Seb took a step forward. "Wait. Please, just wait a moment."
"Why? To give you time to write another attack dog?"
Seb shook his head. "If I could do that, don't you think I would have done it by now? I can't. You were right about finding my body. I died. Sort of. But I wrote my own name just before I died, so … here I am. But I don't have my powers. I'm not a mutant anymore. I'm not part of the game anymore. You don't have to kill me. We're here in this cave because we were trying to find a way out."
"A way out?" the boy repeated skeptically.
Seb nodded. "It was Frederick's idea. I think … I think he was planning on leaving me here, letting me try to find a way out on my own once we found a path that actually led somewhere, because I don't have a collar. The MAAB can't track me. At least, I don't think they can. So if I can get out—"
"Seb!" Frederick hissed.
Seb shook his head. "You think they haven't figured out that's what we were doing in here? I thought there might be a chance for me to escape. To get out of the Games. That's what we all want, after all, and this … it seemed like a way to do it without killing. Without anyone else having to die. I never wanted to do that in the first place."
Kenji hesitated. "Neither did I."
Seb nodded. "I know. That's why you haven't attacked us yet. Why you didn't attack before we had the chance to notice you. Look, if I can get out, that's one less person who has to die. One less person you have to kill. You don't have to kill me." He took a step closer.
"But if you're going to, then at least leave Frederick alone."
Kenji Rose, 12
He hadn't been prepared for that.
Kenji blinked. "What?"
The boy gestured towards his friend. "Frederick. Leave him alone. He was just trying to help me. If you want revenge for your friend, I get that. Someone killed my friend, too. If I had a chance to kill them, I…" The boy hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, they only killed him – and me – because they knew they had to in order to survive this. But I do know that if I had a chance to kill the guy who killed my uncle – well, the guy who told the Sentinels to kill my uncle – I would, because he didn't have to do that."
"The Sentinels killed your uncle? When they came to take you?"
"Yeah."
Kenji swallowed hard. "They killed my mom."
"When they came for you?"
"No, when they attacked the school."
"What school?"
Kenji hesitated, but only for a moment. They hadn't asked him to keep it a secret, after all, and the MAAB obviously already knew. "The coaches – they worked at a school for people like us. A school for mutants."
Frederick lowered his weapon a little. "That sounds … amazing. I always wondered what it would be like, you know – to meet other people like me. This … well, this isn't exactly how I pictured it going." He shook his head. "Bit of a dumpster fire, huh?"
"What?"
"You know, a dumpster fire. Something that's just … really bad, and there's no good way to put it out."
Kenji took a step back. "If there's a fire you're trying to douse, you can't put it out from inside the house."
"What?" Frederick asked.
But a look of recognition crossed Seb's face. "It's a line from Hamilton."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "Is it? Florence just said it was something she'd heard once. It's something she told me during training. She asked if I knew what it meant, and…" He shook his head. "I said you can't fix a problem if you're stuck inside it. I thought that meant we would have to win the Games before we could really make a difference, but … maybe it doesn't. Maybe that's not the only way out of the house – not for you, at least." He turned to Seb. "I think I can help you."
"What?"
"You're trying to get out, but this cave … there are a lot of tunnels, right? Too many for you to explore – or at least, too many for you to explore quickly. I can do that faster."
Seb shook his head. "You'd do that? Why?"
Kenji hesitated, but only for a moment. "My mom died because she was trying to give the students there time to escape. She was trying to give my brother and sister time to escape. I don't know if it worked, but I do know what she'd want me to do. What Isamu and Nami would want me to do. I think … I think they'd understand if I killed someone because I had to. If there was no other way for me to survive. But you're right. I don't have to kill you." He nodded towards the flashlight Seb was holding.
"So let me help you."
Frederick Bouvy, 17
He'd been prepared for a fight.
Frederick watched silently as Seb handed over the flashlight. Kenji eyed it curiously for a moment, as if it might explode, but then took off down the passageway. Frederick let out a sigh of relief despite the fact that it was now pitch black. "Nice work."
"What?"
"The whole 'Kill me if you want to but spare my friend' routine. Nice play. Good thing he didn't call your bluff."
"It wasn't a bluff."
Frederick blinked. "You would've just let him kill you?"
"I don't know. I just … I just didn't want to get you killed, too. Like I got my uncle killed."
"You said the Sentinels killed him."
"Because he was trying to protect me. They were only there because of me. If they hadn't been looking for me…"
"If they hadn't been looking for you, they would've been looking for someone else. And that someone else might've had loved ones who tried to protect them, too. It's not your fault."
"Maybe not, but … I don't want anyone else dying for me."
Frederick slipped his glove back on. "Well, I'm just as glad I don't have to."
"Were you bluffing?"
"When?"
"When you asked if he could grab the gun before you could touch him. You think you could have touched him first?"
"Maybe, but I wasn't going to. I was going to touch the gun."
Seb was silent for a moment. "Clever."
"Thanks."
"And then what?"
"I don't know. Hope that threw off his plan long enough for me to touch him, too. Not much of a plan, maybe, but better than dying." He shook his head. "This is better, though – as long as he comes back."
"You think he won't?"
"I don't know."
"If he was just going to leave, he could have done that at any point."
Frederick nodded. "True, but now he has our flashlight. And don't you think it's a little weird that the MAAB would just let him?"
"Do they really have a choice?"
Frederick shook his head. "Really? Of course they have a choice. All they have to do is turn his collar on, and he's just as slow as the rest of us. Hell, if they wait until he's a couple miles down a tunnel and then turn it off, maybe it takes him days to find his way back to us again. Didn't look like he had too many supplies."
That was probably his fault, of course, but he didn't say so. No point in reminding Seb that he'd stolen some of his supplies from Kenji and his friends. And if Kenji remembered, he didn't seem to be holding a grudge about that. Of course, compared to creating a dog that had killed one of his friends, swiping a bag of supplies probably didn't rank too high on the 'need for revenge' list.
Or maybe he simply hadn't recognized him. The werewolf – Emery, he corrected himself – had been following his scent, and Florence might have been able to recognize the smell of his blood or something, but Kenji probably had no way of knowing who had stolen his supplies. And it wasn't as if the bags were particularly distinctive. He relaxed a little. Kenji probably didn't have a clue about that, and he certainly wasn't going to fess up. Instead, he turned his attention to Seb – or where he was pretty sure Seb still was in the dark. "So you made a dog, huh?"
"Yeah. Alphonso and I thought it would be good to have some protection."
"Not a bad idea."
"Didn't work out too well, though."
"A lot of things didn't," Frederick pointed out. "But we're both still alive. That has to count for something, right?"
Not just something, really. It counted for everything. As long as they were still alive, they had a chance. Everything else was secondary. Had to be secondary. But now that survival hinged on a boy they had just met – a boy who had been about to kill them – being willing to help them.
And there was nothing they could do but wait.
Rick Clifton, 19
There was nothing to do now but wait.
Rick swore under his breath as he threw the flashlight to the ground. "Damn, damn, damn." Why had he and Vi taken all the batteries out of the flashlights? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time – making sure that anyone else who came back to the circle would only find useless flashlights and headlamps. He hadn't counted on that person being him. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd thought maybe it would be a good idea to try to keep moving, but it was just too dark. If it weren't for the clouds…
No. He didn't want to try that. And it wasn't as if he had any idea how to get rid of those clouds even if he wanted to. Vincent had said that the weather seemed to respond to his emotions, so if anything, being frustrated was probably making the clouds worse. It was a wonder it wasn't raining or anything yet.
But it wasn't. There was no rain. Maybe something as big as a tornado had … what? Taken it out of him? Exhausted his power for a while? Was that how it worked? Or was he simply not frustrated enough for these clouds to be doing anything? After all, it wasn't as if getting some rest was a bad idea. He just hadn't been able to get to sleep.
Rick sighed and settled down on the ground again. All of the blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows back at the circle had been soaked through, so he hadn't taken any. Besides, it wasn't as if he had gone far. He could always go back later once everything had had a chance to dry out. There would still be stuff there.
And there had been plenty of supplies still there, even if there hadn't been any painkillers. Rick rolled over a little, trying to find a more comfortable position, trying to ignore the stinging in his shoulder and neck. It wasn't as bad as it had been a few days ago, but he was still hoping that maybe if he waited long enough, the MAAB would decide to restock the supplies at the circle. That was what they had done before, after all. That was one more good reason to stay put.
Because the other thing he'd been hoping to find back at the circle was a weapon. Vi had had their only knife when…
When he had died. Wherever the tornado had dropped his body, that was probably where the knife was, as well, but he had no intention of going and looking for it. It could be anywhere. If the MAAB hadn't collected it yet. None of the bodies that had previously been at the circle had been there when he'd gone back recently, so they were obviously doing something with them. Even if a wild animal had come along and eaten them or something, there would still be something left. Clothes. Bones. Something.
Stop it. That wasn't helping. If anything, it was making the darkness worse. But it wasn't really animals that he had to worry about. In all the time he'd been here, he hadn't seen anything more dangerous than a bird or a fish. A few smaller rodents. Insects. Nothing all that frightening. No, what he really had to worry about was the other contestants.
Rick closed his eyes. All the time he'd been here. What had it been? A week? A little more? A little less? It seemed like ages.
It seemed like a lifetime.
Henry Helstrom, 14
It seemed like a lifetime before they felt strong enough to move.
Henry took a slow, shallow breath. Even breathing too deeply hurt. Everything hurt. And they'd only made it worse by getting up and trying to run before Fae had screamed. They'd fallen, and they hadn't bothered trying to get up again – not even to see if Kiara and Fae had left. They had to have left by now, right? There wasn't really any reason for them to stay. Unless they were waiting for Henry to fall asleep, hoping that their control of the golem would slip while they were asleep.
Henry closed their eyes, bracing themself for the pain that was almost certainly coming as soon as they tried to move. They weren't sure exactly what would happen to the golem when they fell asleep. It had stayed intact while they were unconscious after the tornado had thrown them. But how long had that been? A few minutes? Hours? If they slept all night, would it still be around them in the morning? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was only a matter of time before they would have to find out.
But not yet. They opened their eyes again. If they were going to sleep, then they damn well weren't going to sleep face-down on the ground. Slowly, they moved their hand a little, hoping the golem would respond despite the small gesture. It did. Slowly, painfully, the golem repositioned itself, first rolling over onto its back and then sitting up a little. Just a little.
But that little bit – that slight movement – was enough to send Henry's head spinning. Everything seemed to be turning at once, despite the fact that they knew the golem had remained perfectly still. Henry squeezed their eyes shut again, hoping that would stop the sensation. And it did make it a little better.
But only a little. Henry leaned back against the back of the golem, grateful there was something there to rest against so they didn't fall over. He didn't say anything about that. That was what had slipped out at the start of the Games, when Iola had revealed that not only couldn't she hear, but she was having trouble keeping her balance. Vincent hadn't said anything about that part, but Henry had paid enough attention in biology to work out what was going on, once they'd had time to think about it. Between the dizziness and the pain, they probably wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
Except…
Except they would have to eventually. And probably sooner rather than later. They had no supplies. No food. No water. The watch on their arm. The knives and compass in their pocket. That was it. Nothing to eat. Nothing to drink. They were already thirsty. If they waited here too long, they would simply die of dehydration.
Unless…
Would that work?
Henry opened their eyes. They couldn't see the dirt around them – not with the golem in this position – but it was still there. They could still use it. They didn't dare try to make anything too big – not while they still needed to control the golem around them – but they didn't have to make something big. Just big enough to be useful.
Henry flicked their wrist a little, and a smaller golem formed, hopping onto the larger golem's head, just beside the slit they'd created, so that Henry could just barely see it in the dark. Two more flicks of their wrist, and two more little golems appeared beside the first one. "Water," Henry whispered. At least, it was probably a whisper. Their throat was so dry, they weren't even certain the word had come out at all. "Find water."
That was apparently enough for the little golems, who scampered off in different directions. It was a risk, maybe – hoping that no one would see the little golems wandering around in the dark. But doing nothing was also a risk. No, more than that. Doing nothing was a certainty. They wouldn't be able to survive on their own – not like this. But they didn't have to.
Now they just had to be patient.
Caihong Lee, 25
They just had to be patient.
Lee yawned and stretched his arms as the sun began to peek over the mountains in the distance. It was probably time to wake the others, but there certainly didn't seem to be much of a rush. Between Elena's bruises and Liv's injured leg, they could afford to take a little more time to rest. They needed their sleep. It made sense to rest.
So why was he getting so impatient?
Lee shook his head. Maybe it was just the fact that this sunrise marked the seventh day of the Games. Seven days, and they were still alive. How many of the others could really be left after those storms? How many of them hadn't had any sort of protection? What if there were only a few of the others left? Maybe it could all be over in a day or two. Maybe he could be going home soon.
Except … no, he wouldn't be going home, no matter what happened. But he could at least be somewhere with a real bed, real food, a roof over his head so he didn't have to sleep in the rain. All those little things that he'd taken for granted until … well, until about a week ago.
Suddenly, something caught his attention in the dim light. Something dropping down out of the sky. "Look out!" Lee called, shaking the other two awake. But whatever was falling from the sky didn't seem to be falling as much as drifting. Liv and Elena both sat up in time to see a small parachute land next to them.
Elena started to shift back to metal, but couldn't hide a grimace. Maybe she was still a bit sore. "What's that supposed to be?" she asked.
Lee heard the strain in her voice because he was listening for it. "You all right?"
Elena nodded. "Just a bit stiff. I'll be okay once we get moving." She prodded the parachute and, when that didn't seem to cause anything to happen, picked it up. There was a small envelope attached to it. The envelope was purple, with a black "V" on the back. Elena turned it over, then back again, then handed it to Liv. "I think this is for you."
Liv nodded, taking the envelope wordlessly, none of them acknowledging what they had all recognized. "V" for Vincent. Purple for the colors they'd all been assigned at the beginning. The colors that the coaches had told them didn't mean anything.
Liv opened the envelope carefully. Inside was a purple index card. She stared at it for a moment, then turned it over, clearly hoping for more than what was written on the front, which read simply 0°. "Zero degrees?" Liv asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Lee shook his head. "I didn't think it was that cold." It was a bit chilly, sure, but not zero degrees.
"Maybe it's a suggestion," Elena offered. "Maybe he thinks you should make it zero degrees."
"But why?" Liv asked. "I mean, even if I could just make it colder on command, why would we want to do that?"
"Maybe it's not a temperature," Lee suggested. "What if it's degrees like on a compass? Zero degrees would be north."
"But that's the direction we're already going," Elena pointed out. "Why send us a message telling us to keep doing what we were doing anyway? That doesn't make any sense."
Liv stuck the card back in the envelope. "Maybe it does. Think about it. They're coaches. What are coaches doing during a race? Are they telling you to turn around and go the other way? No. But they might give you a little advice on when to hold back, or when to push forward a little harder. Maybe this is just a push."
Lee raised an eyebrow. "So he's just trying to tell us to stop sitting around and get moving?"
Liv shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe he knows something we don't. Maybe there's a group just north of us, and he thinks they won't be there long. Or maybe there's a group that will be north of us eventually, and he wants us to get ahead of them before they get there. Either way, we should probably get moving." She winced a little, but managed to stand. "Let's go."
Lee glanced at Elena, who shrugged and slowly stood up – a bit stiffly, Lee thought, but he said nothing. Liv was probably right. Vincent probably knew something they didn't. A little more information would have been nice, of course, but maybe the MAAB would only let him send something like this. Or maybe he was trying not to play favorites. After all, the people in the other group – assuming there was another group – could also be his contestants.
Lee shuddered, trying not to think about what that might mean. What if he had sent a message to the other group, too. If there were two groups headed for each other, that would be very bad for at least one group – and possibly both. Was this really an instruction they wanted to follow?
But it was the direction they had been going anyway. And if they were headed for another group … well, wasn't that the point? They would eventually run into someone. They'd been pretty lucky so far, but they couldn't avoid a fight forever.
All they could do was make sure they were prepared for one.
Jaime Sanchez, 20
At least now they knew they had to be prepared.
Jaime turned the index card over in their hands. "That's it? 190°?"
Kylena shrugged. "That's all that was in the envelope. That, and the M on the back of it. Or it could be a W, I guess, but I think it's an M because–"
"Because that means it came from Maria," Jaime finished. That made sense, along with the fact that the index card was blue. But something else didn't. "Wonder why the map we got before didn't say who it was from."
Kylena shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe that was from both of them. Not really sure how that works." She hesitated. "Unless M stands for MAAB. Do you think they sent it?"
Jaime shrugged. "Well, they're the ones doing the actual sending in any case, so it's not like the coaches would be able to send us something they didn't approve of or anything." They pulled the compass from their pocket. "190° would be mostly south. A little bit west. That's pretty much the direction we were going, anyway."
"Because that's the direction we figured the circle was," Kylena agreed. "Maybe they want us to keep going that way even after we get to the circle."
Jaime nodded. That made sense. They'd been planning to head for the circle and see if anyone was hiding in the tunnels there, but they hadn't really discussed what the next move was going to be after that. It was good to have some sense of … well, direction. "Guess we should probably get moving, then."
Kylena nodded. The pair of them quickly finished their breakfast of graham crackers and celery and packed up their supplies. Jaime tucked their knife back in their pocket, their fingers brushing the pistol they'd taken from the house, safely tucked away in case they needed it.
When they needed it. It was only a matter of time, after all. Neither of them had said it, but there was a reason their coaches had sent them a message. The last time, the map had led them to the house and the two boys they'd killed. Wherever the coaches were trying to lead them now, the result would probably be another fight.
Jaime glanced at Kylena, who patted her own pocket. They were about as ready as they could expect to be. They were armed. Neither of them was badly injured. If they got out of this, they'd probably have a scar where the dog had clawed them, but all in all, the two of them were in pretty good shape. And after a tornado like that, how many groups would be able to say the same? How many of them had been able to shield themselves, or had been lucky enough to be farther from the tornado? How many of them were left?
Was that why the coaches had sent them a message? Were there only a few of them left, and they were trying to draw the last few of them together? Maybe. It was probably best not to get their hopes up, but maybe they were close. Maybe they could actually survive the Games.
Of course, that was the point. That was what they'd wanted all along. They'd wanted to survive. But now … if the message did mean that there were fewer of them left, then it felt a bit more real. A real possibility. Two of them. Two survivors. Jaime flashed Kylena a smile as they set out.
Maybe it really would be them.
Fae Tomasini, 13
It had to be them.
Fae's gaze drifted off to the west as she and Kiara pulled the last of the backpacks out of the tunnels. The sun was starting to peek over the mountains, but there was still no sign of anyone else. In a way, that was a relief. There had been no one waiting for them at the circle, no one to ambush them. On the other hand, it also meant that they hadn't been able to surprise anyone, either. And if there had been someone in the tunnels, that would have meant their collar would be on, and she and Kiara would have had the element of surprise. They would have been able to kill them. And they would be just a little closer to going home.
And they had to go home. It had to be them. If they didn't win now, if they died despite everything, then everything Iola had done to protect them would be for nothing. They had to survive now. They had to get out of here.
Maybe then it would be worth it.
"Fae?" Kiara's voice cut through her thoughts. How long had she been calling her name? Obviously long enough to be concerned that Fae hadn't responded. "Fae, are you all right?"
"Yeah," Fae replied automatically. But after a moment, she shook her head, sinking to the ground beside the backpacks. "No. No, I'm not all right. Iola's dead. And I know you told Henry it didn't matter whose fault it is, because it's everyone's fault, but…"
Kiara wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "But you think it's yours. Because I saved you rather than her."
"I…"
"She knew what she was doing, Fae. What I do, it … it takes time. It was all happening too fast. She was hurt too badly, too quickly, too many times. Even if I hadn't been healing you instead, I don't think I could have healed all of her injuries quickly enough." She held Fae close for a moment. "But even if there had been a choice, she would have wanted me to choose you. She chose to save us."
Fae nodded slightly. "And now we have to save each other."
"Exactly."
"We have to get out of here."
"Well, we should probably get some supplies first, but—"
"I meant out of the Games."
"I know. But one thing at a time. Let's sort out this food, see what's still good, and take what we can carry. Then we can focus on—" She stopped short, glancing up at the sky. "Do you see that?"
Fae looked up. Something was floating down out of the sky. A small parachute, with something attached to it, landed at their feet. Kiara reached down. It was a small yellow envelope. Kiara opened it carefully and removed a yellow index card. There was a capital I on one side, and 10° written on the other. Fae stared at the I. "Do you think it's from Ian?"
Kiara shook her head. "I think that's what they want us to think. Whether it is or not … Who knows?"
"Why would they pretend it was?"
"They probably figure we'd be more likely to listen to instructions from the coaches."
Fae shook her head. "You think it's an instruction?"
"An instruction. A suggestion. Something of that sort. They want us to go north. Well, mostly north." She shook her head. "But if that's where they want us to go, we'd probably be better off turning around and heading the other way."
Fae cocked her head. "What if it is from Ian?" From Ian, but not from Vincent. Fae's stomach churned. Vincent probably wouldn't want anything to do with her.
Kiara shrugged. "What if it is? You really think they're trying to help us?"
Fae opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The coaches were trying to help them, weren't they? Except…
Except if they were trying to help them, why hadn't they told the truth? Why hadn't they told Kiara she hadn't healed Vincent, that she wouldn't be able to heal anyone else deafened by Fae's scream? If they had really wanted to help, they would have made sure that they were prepared. Fae nodded. "No. No, you're right. The only people we can count on for help are each other. So what do we do?"
"Head south, I guess."
Fae nodded, but there was still something not quite right about that. "Unless…"
"What?"
"Well, what if they knew we wouldn't listen to their suggestion? What if they're counting on it? What if they're telling us to go north, but it's really—"
"Reverse psychology," Kiara finished. "Good thinking." She tucked the index card back in the envelope and tossed it into one of the tunnels.
"Good thing there are plenty of other directions."
Savannah Kingston, 19
At least she'd been heading in the right direction.
Savannah turned the index card over again, tracing her fingers along the P on the back. Penelope. Penelope had sent her a message. Even after what had happened – even after what she had done to Coburn – Penelope was trying to help her. Trying to encourage her, reassure her that she'd been headed the right way.
210°. As near as she could tell, that was the direction she'd been headed anyway before she'd decided to stop for the night. Or at least, it was pretty close. Back towards the circle – that had been her idea. She hadn't thought it would take her this long to get there, though. Would anyone still be there by the time she got there?
Maybe that was what Penelope was trying to tell her: that there was someone there, and she should hurry up. Or maybe it was the opposite: that there was no one there at all, so now would be a good time to get there, take some supplies, and maybe wait for someone else to arrive and … what? Ambush them? Savannah could feel her fingers tingling with energy. She'd finally managed to get some sleep, but she couldn't be certain – not really certain – that she hadn't shot off any lightning while she'd been asleep. If she had given away her position, would she really have the element of surprise?
Then again, no one had attacked her, either. She'd been worried about falling asleep while she was alone, but maybe she was far enough away from the others. Or maybe they had all stopped for the night, too.
Or maybe there simply weren't very many of them left, and the chances of running into each other by chance were slim. Was that why Penelope had sent her what certainly seemed to be instructions? What if she wasn't the only one who had gotten a message? Wasn't that what they had done last year, after all? They'd dropped a bunch of messages for the contestants telling them there were a certain number of them left.
Except it had been a lie.
But those messages had come from the MAAB. This was from Penelope. She wouldn't lie to her, would she? Then again, she hadn't said there were a certain number of contestants left. Savannah had assumed that on her own. All she had sent was a number. 210 degrees. That could mean anything. It could mean that there was someone in that direction or that there wasn't. Hell, maybe she had completely the wrong idea, and it was a temperature or something else entirely. What else was measured in degrees?
And of course, only the P on the back of the card indicated that the message was from Penelope. The MAAB could just as easily have put it there on their own to make her think it was from Penelope. Maybe they were the ones who wanted her to find someone, to hurry things along.
Savannah shook her head. She could stay here second-guessing herself for hours, or she could do something. After all, if it was a direction – which certainly seemed more likely than a temperature – it was the direction she'd been going anyway. The direction she probably would have kept going if she hadn't gotten a message at all. Maybe it didn't really make a difference whether Penelope or the MAAB wanted her to go that way, too.
Maybe that was the point. Maybe it was just encouragement. Keep doing what you're doing. Maybe it was just meant as a reassurance that Penelope was still out there rooting for her.
Well, probably not just for her – unless there were only a few of them left. Each of the coaches had seven or eight contestants that they had been working with, after all. Savannah tried to shake the thought from her head as she shouldered her bag and set out. That had to be hard – working with that many contestants for days, getting to know them, all the while knowing that, at best, only two of them were going to survive.
Two. The thought kept coming back to her. Two of them could survive. It didn't just have to be her. Maybe – just maybe – that was what Penelope was leading her towards. Maybe there was someone else out there that she wanted her to find – not for them to kill each other, but for them to help each other.
Maybe. That was a pretty big maybe. But for now, there wasn't anything more she could do about that possibility than any of the others. All she could do now was keep going and do her best to be prepared for whatever she happened to find.
She just hoped that she was.
Lea Cervantes, 18
She just hoped she wasn't making a mistake.
Lea stared at the white index card that had landed in an envelope beside her, then back at the compass in her hand – one of the few supplies she still had, along with the knife in her pocket. 342° was written on one side; the other was blank. 342. A very precise number. Not just a general "keep going north," but something very specific. They were leading her towards something.
Or someone, of course. But would there really be anyone else nearby? And they would have to be nearby in order for something so specific to be useful. People moved, after all. Even if there was someone in that exact position now, there was no guarantee they would still be there by the time she got there. Especially since that direction, as she could see now from the compass, was leading her back up into the mountains.
Lea tucked the index card in her pocket. That was the direction she was going to have to go anyway, but she'd been debating trying to go around the mountains rather than over them, as she and Elio had done. It would mean going farther, yes, but it would also mean not having to go up a mountain. Maybe that was all the MAAB wanted – for her to waste her energy going up a mountain and not make it back to the circle at all before she died of hunger or dehydration.
Except…
Except that wasn't what they wanted. Contestants dying of hunger in the wilderness wasn't the point of the Games. If she starved out here, alone, what good did that do them? What did it prove? That mutants would die just like ordinary humans if they couldn't find food and water. That wasn't what they wanted to show the world.
But if she gave them what they wanted…
Lea shook the thought from her head as she made her way towards the mountain. It wasn't as if she was headed towards the mountain because she was going to kill anyone – or even to fight anyone. There probably wasn't anyone there at all. After all, this was pretty much the direction the tornado had come from. Anyone who had been in the tornado's path was probably dead, anyway.
Just like Elio.
Just like she would have been, if Elio hadn't saved her.
One step. Then another. It was slow going, but at least she had a goal now. Well, a direction, at least. A direction that would probably lead to a goal. Finally, she reached the foot of the mountain. At least this first part wouldn't be too steep. That was good, because she was already tired. Tired and hungry and thirsty. But none of those were likely to improve if she just sat down and waited. At the very least, if she kept going, she might be able to find water.
Water, but no way to carry it. So she would have to make do with drinking whenever she found water. Slowly, checking the compass every now and then, she made her way forward. Suddenly, her foot slipped on something. Something small and smooth and … metal? Lea knelt down and picked up a battery. What was a battery doing out here?
Then she saw the rest. A scattered mess of batteries, scraps of food, and even clothing, strewn across the ground. Roughly in the middle was a bag, split open along the seam. Lea stared. Was this what they had wanted her to find? She glanced around, but there was no one else nearby. Of course there wasn't. Whoever this had belonged to, the tornado had probably swept it away. Probably quite a good distance away.
Quickly, she gathered the supplies together. There were some pieces of water bottles, but not enough to really hold any water. The clothes, however, were still soaked, and she wrung some of the water out into her mouth. Well, that was one way to carry at least some water if she found a lake or a stream or something.
And there was food. Some pieces of crackers, a few chunks of beef sticks that had survived inside the bag, and even a few pieces of cookies. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was something, and it was certainly more than she would've had if she hadn't followed the MAAB's directions. And there might be even more along the way—
Along the way back. The tornado had come from the north. If she kept heading this way, there might be more supplies. Enough, maybe, to last her until she made it back to the circle. Lea stuffed the food into her pockets and tied the extra shirt and pants around her waist. "Thank you," she whispered.
That felt … wrong – thanking them. Elio would probably have thanked God for providing for them. But she hadn't gotten directions from God, as Elio would have. And where had those directions gotten him? God hadn't led her to food and water. The MAAB had. Of course, they had also condemned thirty of them to a fight to the death, which did tarnish the gift a bit. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be grateful.
She just wished it didn't feel so wrong.
Seb
He just wished he could help the others.
Seb clenched his fists as he and Frederick waited for Kenji to return. How long had it been? Hours, at least. He knew there were a lot of tunnels, but how long would it take for Kenji to explore all of them and make his way back? If he was even planning on coming back. How long could he and Frederick give the younger boy before it was clear he wasn't coming back at all?
Seb shook his head. There was a part of him that was hoping that the boy wouldn't come back, that he would have to stay here with Frederick instead. After all, if Kenji came back with directions out of the cave, Frederick wouldn't be coming with him. Couldn't be coming with him. He still had his collar on; the MAAB would be able to track him. He couldn't escape the Games – not like this. The only way for Frederick to make it out alive was to fight.
Seb hadn't wanted to fight. But now that it came down to it, it didn't seem fair to just be able to run, either – not when he was the only one who could. The others didn't have a chance of escaping, of just leaving the Games. What had he done to earn that chance? He'd been lucky; that was all. He'd died, and been lucky enough to be able to come back. That was all it was: luck. It didn't seem fair.
On the other hand, it definitely wouldn't be fair to stay. If he stayed, and he made it out alive the official way, then someone else would have to die – someone who wouldn't die if he simply escaped. There could be two survivors, or there could be three. That was the choice here. And he was the only one who could be the third.
Maybe the other two would be Frederick and Kenji. Maybe. But once he was gone, once he was no longer a part of the Games, then he had no say in that. He couldn't help Frederick any more. Just like he hadn't been able to help Alphonso when…
Stop it. Alphonso hadn't exactly helped him, either. It had been Alphonso's idea to stay in the house. Alphonso's idea to get drunk. It had been Alphonso's idea to make the house in the first place, instead of something a bit more subtle. Alphonso had made them a target. But that in and of itself was the reason he could escape at all. If he hadn't been killed – if Alphonso's recklessness hadn't gotten him killed – then he would still be part of the game. He would still have his collar. And maybe someone would have killed him in a way that wouldn't have left him time to write anything at all.
"Found it!"
Seb nearly jumped at the voice as Kenji came racing back, flashlight in hand. "Okay," the younger boy grinned. "Okay, I think I've found you a way out. I didn't leave the cave because I didn't want them to be able to tell which of the paths I was following would lead out if they can still track me, but I saw daylight. Do you have anything to write on?"
Seb shook his head. "Why?"
"So I can draw a map. If I just give you directions out loud, they'll hear. If I can draw something…"
Frederick nodded and removed his backpack. "I'll see if I can find something." He started rummaging through the pockets, then stopped once he got to one of the outside ones. "What the hell is this?" He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
Kenji hurried over to take a look. "Wait, you had a map? Why didn't you say something?"
"How was I supposed to know it was there?"
Seb shrugged. "It's your bag."
"Yeah, but I got it from…" He hesitated. "I got it from one of the other contestants. He let me have his supplies, and I let him live. I was in a bit of a rush, so I didn't check all the pockets."
Seb shook his head. "That still doesn't make sense. How did he get a map?"
"They must have sent it to him," Kenji offered.
Seb raised an eyebrow. "They? The MAAB? Why would they send him a map?"
Kenji shrugged. "They sent us a flashlight, the last time we were near the caves. And they sent us a house – a little plastic one."
Seb shook his head. "Why?"
"To lead us to the house you made. That's where we found your body."
"Huh." So the MAAB had been giving people hints? Was that how the other two contestants had found the house, too? Maybe. Or maybe it had just been too obvious, like he'd thought. Still, the fact that the MAAB had been helping some of the contestants was a bit unsettling. "It's almost like they're playing favorites."
Kenji shook his head. "Maybe. Didn't help us much, though. There was no one at the house, and you were already dead. Well, we thought you were. And I lost the flashlight along with the rest of my supplies when I ran from the tornado." He turned his attention to the map. "Anyway." He pulled a knife from his pocket and made a small notch in the map. "Here's where we are now. You need to go this way until you get to a fork, and then turn this way and go about … this far." He poked the map a few more times, making sure to keep his directions vague in case the MAAB was listening. "Turn this way, and then when you get to the next fork, make sure to go this direction, and you should see daylight from there. Well, assuming it's still daytime when you get there. Questions?" He turned to Frederick, whose mouth was open. "What?"
"You had a knife this whole time?"
Kenji Rose, 12
"You had a knife this whole time?"
Kenji nodded. "Yeah. You didn't really think I was going to try to wrestle you for the gun, did you?"
The older boy stared, his expression a mixture of surprise and … what? Admiration, maybe? "Clever. What was the plan? Race behind me and cut my throat?"
"Something like that." He shook his head. "But you're right. I don't have to kill you. Seb, you should go. The longer we wait, the longer we give the MAAB to figure out where that exit is, and if they catch you…"
He didn't finish the thought, because he wasn't entirely sure what they would do if they caught Seb. Would they just put another collar on him and put him back in the Games? If he didn't have his powers any more, he wouldn't stand a chance. But maybe that wouldn't matter to them. They didn't really seem to care about whether someone was a threat. He was only twelve, after all, and he was in her along with mutants twice his age.
And he was still alive.
Seb nodded. "Thank you."
Frederick was already dividing up his supplies. "You should take some of these. Just because Kenji was able to find the way out that quickly doesn't mean it won't take you quite a bit longer. And once you get out…" He trailed off.
"Keep going and don't look back?"
"Something like that, yeah." He handed Seb one of the packs and clapped him on the back. "Now get out of here."
Seb held his hand out to Kenji. "Thank you."
Kenji shook it. "You're welcome." He handed the flashlight back. "Good luck."
Seb took off down the passageway, leaving Kenji and Frederick in darkness. "Back the way we came in, then?" Frederick suggested.
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Well, I'm assuming you came in the same way we did."
Kenji nodded, then realized Frederick couldn't see him. "You should know. You were following us the first time."
"What?"
Kenji chuckled. "Oh, come on. You just happened to stumble across the entrance to a cave you knew would be safe during a tornado? That seems a bit unlikely … unless you'd been here before. The last time I was here – with Florence and Emery – we got trapped. Someone had piled some rocks on top of the entrance … and melted some of them together. Oh, and then stolen some of our supplies."
Silence. Then, after a moment, Frederick asked, "You knew?"
"Yeah. But if I was out for revenge, I'd say 'creating a dog to kill one of my friends' ranks a bit above 'swiping a few supplies.' You saw an opportunity, and you took it. That took guts."
"It took desperation," Frederick corrected. "I was starving. That was the first real food I'd seen in days."
"Seems like you found some more."
"Yeah. While you three were chasing me, I came across another contestant. Like I said, I let him live, and he gave me this." He patted his backpack. "I wonder what happened to him."
"Why let him live?"
"What?"
"Why not just kill him and then take the supplies?"
"He said he was going to try to hold you off."
"And you believed that?"
"No. He was in pretty bad shape, but … well, seemed like a waste of a good bullet."
"I'm not buying that."
Frederick sighed. "Yeah, me neither. Look, I didn't want to kill him unless I had to, all right? And I didn't have to. Just like we don't have to kill each other now."
We. There it was again. "You want to … work together?"
"Sounds better than trying to kill each other, doesn't it? Two people can survive, right? What do you say?"
Kenji hesitated. Two people could survive. He'd wanted it to be him and Florence, or him and Emery. But they were dead. And even though he'd managed to fall asleep earlier, he hadn't gone back in time. Hadn't been able to go back in time. There was only one explanation for that: the MAAB was stopping him. But then they had turned his collar back off – and hadn't turned it back on while he'd been running through the tunnels, even though they knew he'd been looking for a way for Seb to get out. Was that deliberate, or…
Or maybe it meant they weren't completely in control. Maybe there was something about the caves that made it harder to control the collars. Or maybe it was a message. Maybe letting Seb live – letting him make it out – was supposed to be an incentive not to go back in time and change things. After all, if he went back and saved Florence, they wouldn't have a reason to come back to the caves, and then Seb would be stuck trying to find his way out on his own – and probably dying in the maze of passageways down here.
Kenji shook his head. It was too much. Too many choices. But this … this didn't have to be a hard choice. Either he and Frederick could work together, or they would have to kill each other. That was the choice. Not much of a decision. Kenji nodded.
"I say we should get out of here."
Dr. Anita Donohue, 35
"Can he really get out of there?"
Anita glanced up at the question. It had probably been directed at Alvin, but Alvin was still engrossed by the images on the screen. The faster-moving green and yellow mass to the north had finally overtaken the red and orange section of the storm, and was starting to swallow it up. But the damage had been done, and there were plenty of updated damage reports to keep Alvin's attention. She was the only other person in the room, so maybe if she played this right…
"Maybe," she offered with a shrug. "The coaches are certainly hoping so."
Nicholas shook his head. "You think that's why they agreed to send those messages? They're hoping to … what? Speed things up a little bit so we're distracted? Do they think if we're focused on what might happen with the contestants who are headed towards each other that we won't notice where Seb's gone?"
Here goes nothing. "Well, that, and they're hoping we won't notice the storm chasers just outside the border."
Nicholas blinked. "What?"
"The storm chasers over on the southwestern edge of the border. Most of the cameras over there are still down, but one of them caught them."
Nicholas' face was growing red. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"
It was Alvin who answered, his gaze never leaving the screen. "Because you told me that whatever my wild cards were doing wasn't more important than a tornado plowing through a city in the middle of the night."
Anita fought back a chuckle as Nicholas opened his mouth, then closed it again, then shook his head and sighed. "I did, didn't I."
Anita took a step forward. "And you were right. This isn't more important. But it could be an opportunity."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Seb dying in the Games – again, after losing his powers – was always going to look a bit bad for us. If his powers really are gone, if he's a human, then leaving him in there to die at the hands of a bunch of mutants … not really the best image. If he escapes now, what have we really lost?" She leaned forward. "And what have we gained?"
"You're talking about the coaches," Nicholas realized.
Anita nodded. "They're cooperating. All of them. Steering the contestants towards each other, even when most of them would probably benefit from a little time to recover. And they're doing it because I told them they might get something out of it."
"So they think they're winning."
Anita shook her head. "A good plan isn't one where someone wins. It's where nobody thinks they've lost." From across the room, she heard Alvin suppress a snort, but she ignored him and continued. "It's not a zero-sum game, Nicholas. Not for us. Not from outside the Games. The more we can nudge them into cooperating now – and into sending their contestants things that lead them to cooperate – the more the contestants in future Games will believe something was sent by the coaches to help them."
"Unlike last year."
"Exactly. Last year when you sent those papers, you relied on tricking them. But that sort of thing only works once. What the coaches sent this time – it'll have the same effect, but without the lie. They all worked out what the numbers meant, and most of them are headed in the right direction."
"Most of them," Nicholas agreed. "The numbers – they were just the direction of the nearest contestant, weren't they."
"Yes. That seemed like the fairest way to go about it."
"And the ones who didn't get a message?"
Anita shrugged. "Each of the coaches got to pick one contestant to send a message to. But I think they made good choices. Frederick and Kenji are still inside a cave, so there's not really a reliable way to send them anything. Henry isn't in much of a condition to go anywhere right now even if they wanted to. As for Rick, I think they're still trying to avoid steering the two weather manipulators in the same direction."
Nicholas leaned back in his chair. "And Lea? You said each of the coaches got to pick one contestant to send a message to. But five of them received one – and Lea's was the only one without a color or an initial. Why her?"
Anita nodded. "That was my choice. And the only direction that led to food rather than towards another contestant, although it's still the same general direction as most of the others. As for why … Think about it. If she dies of hunger out there, how does that look? Or worse, what if she doesn't die, and manages to outlast the other contestants simply by not being in a fight? The coaches are steering the contestants towards each other, so it's not impossible that the Games might be over soon. If she was one of the last two alive, what then?"
"But if she has enough food and water to make it back to where the others are, you think she'll fight."
"I think if she wasn't going to, she would've stayed where she was. Or kept heading south. She knew heading north meant heading back towards the other contestants. She knows what she's going to have to do, even if she can't admit it to herself yet."
Nicholas nodded. "And all this … this was your idea?"
"Yes, sir."
"A plan where no one loses."
"Where no one thinks they've lost," Anita corrected. "There's a difference."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Yes, there is. These storm chasers – on the southwestern border, you said?"
"That's right."
"Interesting that those cameras would be the last ones to get replaced, don't you think?"
Anita shrugged. "Not my field, sir. But I believe Francine was prioritizing the areas the contestants were closest to."
Nicholas nodded. "I'm sure she was." He leaned forward. "Very well, doctor. Tell Francine to direct the Sentinels away from the southwestern border – if she hasn't done so already."
"Most of the Sentinels were sent to help with the rescue efforts in Grand Junction," Anita pointed out.
Nicholas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course they were. How's that looking?"
Anita shook her head. "Bad," she answered vaguely. "Reports are still coming in, but I think Mack is going to have a hard time spinning this one our way."
Nicholas shook his head as he stood up. "I doubt it, but I should probably have a word with him. I'll see you later. And make sure to get some rest, doctor. If those contestants are headed straight for each other, you may have your patients sooner than you thought."
Once he had left the room, Anita sank down in a chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Alvin finally turned his attention from the screens, fixing his good eye on her. "Well played."
Anita shook her head. "All I did was tell him the truth."
"Exactly. It's amazing what you can get away with when you do that – when you tell them exactly what you think and what you're trying to accomplish rather than trying to hide it."
Anita said nothing. Was that … approval in his expression? He had voted against the Games, after all. And he was still here, trying to … what? Not trying to change things – not really – but maybe … maybe trying to nudge them a little. He was the one who had made a deal with Diana the year before, after all. A deal that had meant there would be two survivors instead of just one.
And this year, if they played their cards right, there could be three.
"Kenji was wrong," Alvin continued. "A fire this big … you can't put it out from outside the house, either. All you can do is get as far away as you can. Or…" He shook his head. "Or stay, but accept that you can't save the whole house. Because you haven't got a fire hose, or even a bucket. Just a little trickle of water that probably won't make much of a difference at all."
Anita smirked. "It depends on where the drops fall."
Alvin raised an eyebrow. "Water dripping on a stone?"
"Yeah."
Something in Alvin's expression changed. "Oh."
"What?"
"Water."
"What about it?"
"Henry. They told their golems to find water."
Anita shrugged. "And? Sensible thing to do, I thought. They aren't exactly in any shape to go look for it themself."
Alvin shook his head. "No, but once the golems find it … then what? They're what, a few inches tall? Nothing to fill, no way to carry it. What are they supposed to do with it if they find it?"
"Oh."
"Exactly." Alvin shook his head.
"I don't think they're prepared for what comes next."
"I suppose we need to be prepared for whatever's out there."