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Alone

Maria Nanami, 26
March 26, 13:12 MST

Even more of them were alone now.

Maria shook her head as she watched the screen. Kylena was still running southeast, away from the circle. Liv hadn't moved from her place by Lee and Elena's bodies. Savannah was headed straight for her, maybe attracted by the storm cloud that still loomed over Liv's head. Farther south, Lea was still retracing her steps back towards the circle. Rick was following the little golem that would probably lead him to Henry, who hadn't moved since sending the golems out to look for water. All six of them were alone.

That left only two groups – Kiara and Fae, and Kenji and Frederick. This wasn't what they'd been expecting when the contestants had been told that two of them could survive, but maybe it should have been. After all, they'd all started off working with at least one other contestant, but it was unrealistic to assume that could continue forever. People died – and teammates wouldn't necessarily die at the same time.

And now six of them were left alone – two of them left alone because of the most recent fight. A fight that the coaches had orchestrated. They'd drawn the groups together, and what had it gotten them?

Maria shook her head. It had gotten them closer to the end of the Games. That was what it had gotten them. That was all it was ever going to get them – all that was certain, at least. And maybe they had bought Seb a little time, drawn enough of the MAAB's attention to what was going on in the Games so they wouldn't be able to focus on tracking him down. Maybe. If he made it out, they would probably never know. They would only know if they failed – if the MAAB found him.

So no news was good news. And so far, they'd had no news – nothing except a few updates from Alvin about how things were going in Grand Junction. More numbers kept coming in. At least nine people were dead. Nine people who'd had nothing to do with the Games. Nine people who the MAAB had assumed would be far enough away from the Games that any impact would be minimal.

This didn't feel minimal.

Maria leaned back in her chair. Nine people were dead. But there were twenty contestants who had died in the Games so far – well, nineteen or twenty, depending on whether you counted Seb – and eight more who would, before the end. They hadn't done anything to deserve it, either. They'd simply been going about their lives before the MAAB had chosen them for the Games. Why should people care any more about the nine people who had died in the storm than they did for the children who were dying in the Games?

But they would. People were already sending aid and supplies to Grand Junction, and demanding that someone be held responsible for the damage. Except they weren't demanding that the MAAB be held responsible. They wanted to hold mutants responsible. Never mind that one of the mutants responsible was already dead, and the other was still trapped in a fight to the death. That wasn't good enough for them.

Nothing would ever be good enough for them.

"No, it won't," Vincent said quietly. "It doesn't matter what we do. They'll never be satisfied with it. It doesn't matter whether we use our powers to protect them or to fight them, or just try to stay out of sight. Something like this happens, and suddenly it's all mutants who are responsible. All mutants who have to pay, who have to be held accountable. A mutant does something good, and they're an outlier. A special case. A mutant does something harmful, and we're all monsters – no matter what any of the rest of us do." He shook his head. "Makes me wonder why we ever tried."

"Vincent…"

"The Professor thought that if we stood for something, if we protected them, then they would eventually come around. If we turned the other cheek long enough, they would see that we weren't monsters. That they would accept us. He was wrong."

"You don't mean that."

Vincent shook his head. "I do. He was like a father to us, Maria. The father I hadn't had in years. He was good, he was noble, he was decent … and he was wrong. They won't accept us – ever. There's no point in trying to protect them. And we can't fight them – not now. It doesn't matter what we do. Whether we cooperate or not. It won't change anything."

Maria said nothing. She shot Ian a look, but his gaze was fixed on the screen. Finally, Penelope shifted a little, positioning herself between Vincent and one of the fans. Vincent chuckled a little. "Oh, you would have liked him. And he would have loved you. If things had been a bit different, you would've made one hell of an X-Man." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "I wish you'd gotten the chance."

For a moment, Penelope smiled. Then she caught a glimpse of the screen that Ian was watching, his eyes still glued to it. "Whoa."

Ian nodded. "Whoa is right. Did we know she could do that?"

Maria turned to look. Liv was still standing under the storm cloud, but her hair was standing straight up as if electrified, and the wind whirling around her seemed to be growing stronger. Maria shook her head. "No, we didn't. We assumed her power was like Rick's – that she could influence the weather conditions that already existed, not create her own out of … well, thin air. She never did anything like this during training, or even in the Games – not even when the other tornado was that close."

Penelope nodded. "Something about the last fight must have triggered something."

Maria nodded. Something about the last fight. Maybe the shock of whatever pain Jaime had been projecting at her. Maybe the emotional shock of losing both Elena and Lee. Maybe both. Whatever it was, it had changed something.

They would just have to wait and see what else had changed.

Liv Holle, 18

Everything had changed.

Liv clenched her fists as the wind swirled around her. They were dead. They were both dead. Lee and Elena – both gone because they had come back to the circle. Because they had listened to their coaches' advice. Both dead, because she hadn't had a better plan. Because she had insisted that they could take on the other group with a mallet, a bit of rope, and some camouflage. They were both dead, because she had been wrong.

And now she was alone. Maybe she deserved to be alone. Maybe—

"Did you do that yourself?"

Liv looked up, startled. How long had the other girl been standing there? And why the hell hadn't she attacked? Okay, maybe attacking someone with wind rushing around them and a storm overhead hadn't seemed like a great idea, but then why had she gotten this close? Liv took a step back. "Who the hell are you?"

"Savannah. Savannah Kingston. What's your name?"

"Liv Holle."

"Did you make that storm?"

Liv blinked. "I … yes. I didn't mean to, but yes, I think I did."

"Is that how they died?"

"What?"

Savannah nodded to the bodies on the ground – Lee, Elena, and the other contestant who had attacked them. "Did the storm kill them?"

"No." Liv shook her head. "No, it didn't. They did."

"Who?"

"Whoever sent us these." She pulled the purple envelope from her pocket. "We got one of these, telling us to go north, and we found two other contestants waiting for us. They wanted us to fight. They wanted us to kill each other."

Savannah hesitated a moment, then pulled a matching envelope from her pocket. It was red, but otherwise exactly like the one Liv held. "Looks like I missed the fight."

Liv clenched her fists. "Maybe not."

Savannah held up her hands. Little bolts of electricity crackled along her fingertips. "You sure you want to do that?"

"It's what they want, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is." She took a step forward. "It's what they want. What do you want?"

Liv hesitated. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to take the pain that had flooded her mind and shoot it directly at the MAAB. She wanted them to pay – to pay for Lee, and Elena, and all the others who had died. She wanted to take the storm that was swirling over her head and strike out at every single one of them.

But that … that wasn't going to help. Not now. Not yet. In order to do any of that, there was one other thing that had to happen first. "I want to get out of here."

"So do I." Savannah shook her head. "So did Coburn and Lilith."

"Were they your…?"

"Friends. Yeah."

"What happened to them?"

"We were attacked by another group. We scared most of them off, but one of them stabbed Lilith. And then Coburn…" She shook her head. "I happened. He was trying to help me, and … He got hit with the lightning."

Liv nodded. "So you're alone."

"Yeah."

Liv hesitated, but only for a moment. Savannah probably wasn't lying. If she'd wanted to attack, she could have before she'd said anything. Hell, she could probably have shot some lightning at her from even farther away and finished the fight before it started. Liv gestured to the bodies on the ground. "So am I. But maybe we don't have to be."

A smile crossed Savannah's face. Maybe this was what she'd been hoping for. She certainly hadn't been hoping for a fight. "You want to work together?"

Liv could feel the wind around her settling down a little. The anger, the rage that had been welling up inside … it was still there, but now it had a purpose. They could work together. They could win. They could get out of here.

And then she could put it to good use.

Kenji Rose, 12

At least now he could put his power to good use again.

Kenji beamed as Frederick applauded, clearly impressed by the number of fish Kenji had managed to catch in such a short time – or at least in what had seemed like a short time to Frederick. They'd found a lake fairly quickly and decided that fish sounded better for lunch than anything that was in Frederick's pack. Now they just had to figure out a way to cook them.

Maybe some of the wood would be dry enough now to make a fire. Maybe not. If they had to wait a little while for it to dry out enough … well, it wasn't as if they had anywhere else to be. Frederick didn't seem to be in a hurry to go looking for a fight, and Kenji couldn't really blame him for that. After what had happened in the last fight he'd been in himself, he wasn't exactly eager for one, either.

Except he hadn't exactly been in that fight. He'd kept the other boy away from Florence long enough for her to suck the boy's blood, but he hadn't really tried to kill the other boy. And the fight at the start of the Games … He'd run away from that, too. He'd been ready to fight Frederick and Seb in the caves – or at least, he'd thought he was ready – but he'd ended up being talked out of that fight, too. Maybe he just wasn't ready for a fight at all.

But he couldn't keep avoiding fights forever. He was working with Frederick now, but it was only a matter of time before they came across someone else. Someone who wanted to kill them.

No. No, that wasn't quite right. Most of the others probably didn't want to kill them either. The boys Florence had attacked had fought back because she had attacked them. Now that he thought about it, the same was true of the group Florence and Emery had attacked at the start. They'd been willing to fight back, but would they really have started a fight?

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it didn't matter. Enough people had been willing to start a fight. People were dead. He didn't know how many, but … but enough. Enough people were dead – enough people were still dying – that the Games were still going. But not enough that the Games were over. That was all they knew. All any of them knew.

Florence was dead. Emery was dead. The boy they had attacked was dead. And the boy who had been with Seb – the boy whose body they had found at the house – he was dead, too. Other than that…

"How many others do you think are dead?" Kenji blurted out before he could stop himself.

Frederick looked up from the fish he'd been trying to remove the scales from. "Don't know, really," he admitted. "Alphonso – he's the boy Seb and I were working with at the start – he's dead. And a girl I was working with during training – Sybil." He shook his head. "That seems like such a long time ago. Training, that is. Hard to believe it's only been a week."

"Has it?"

Frederick nodded. "Pretty sure. I know. Seems like longer, right?"

"Yeah." It seemed like a lifetime. Kenji turned a fish over, replaying what Frederick had said. Two people he had been working with were dead. If those were the only contestants he was certain were dead, then… "You haven't actually killed anyone yet, have you."

Frederick blinked, then shifted uneasily, then finally shook his head. "No. No, I haven't. You?"

"No." Dogs probably didn't count. And fish certainly didn't count. "No, I haven't either."

Frederick nodded. "But we're still alive."

"Yeah."

"That's what counts, right?"

"Counts?"

"Last two standing, right? They never said it would be the two people who killed the most or anything like that. Just the last two alive."

"I guess so."

"It's a marathon, not a sprint, right? That's what Ian said at the start."

Kenji blinked. Had he? That seemed like such a long time ago. And he hadn't really been listening much, right before the start of the Games. He'd been too scared. Too focused on trying to decide whether Florence's plan to attack the other group was a good idea. He hadn't really been listening…

"And the other guy, Vincent – I didn't really get to work with him because he wasn't coaching any of the people I was working with, but he said … he said that groups would shift as the Games went on. As people left, or joined, or died." He shook his head. "Guess he knew what he was talking about."

Kenji nodded. "I guess so. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? If two people can survive, it makes sense to try to find someone else."

Frederick cocked his head. "It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

"Convince myself of what?"

"Convince yourself to stay." A hint of a smile played on his face. "Look, I get it. After working with a vampire and a werewolf, a kid who can melt things and hasn't actually killed anybody probably seems like sort of a step down, huh?"

Kenji shook his head. "It isn't that."

"Isn't it?"

"No. I just…" He shook his head. "Look, it just hasn't been that long since … since Florence died."

"And you feel like joining up with someone else is … what? Betraying her?"

No. No, that wasn't it. But joining up with someone else – for long, at least – meant abandoning the idea of going back and saving her. Or saving Emery. The more he got to know Frederick, the harder it would be to justify going back and saving Florence or Emery instead of helping him. Kenji shook his head. He couldn't tell Frederick that. "I don't know. Maybe."

Frederick eyed him curiously. "Look, if you want to leave, I can't exactly stop you. No one could. Just … don't run off without a plan, okay?" He shook his head.

"No one deserves to be alone out there."

Kylena Albright, 16

She was alone.

Kylena gasped for breath as she kept running, despite the fact that the storm cloud in the distance was gone. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, anyway. It could just mean that the girl didn't want to be noticed if she decided to head somewhere else. If she decided to follow Kylena.

Shit. If she decided to follow, she knew exactly which direction Kylena had gone. Maybe it would be better to head in a different direction. Kylena turned a bit to her right, then a bit more. South. That was the direction the other group had come from. Maybe that meant there would be no one out here. If the coaches had been trying to herd them together, there probably wasn't anyone else in this area who hadn't already headed back towards the circle.

Maybe. That was assuming there were any more groups that had received notes – and that they'd decided to listen to their coaches' advice. It seemed like the group with the yellow envelope – the group that had simply tossed their instructions into one of the tunnels and gone off somewhere else – had the right idea after all. What had following instructions gotten her?

But…

But the thought was still nagging at the back of her mind – the idea that this had to happen eventually. Not Jaime's death, necessarily – two of them could survive, after all. But it had only been a matter of time before they ran into a group that would be able to fight back. Only a matter of time before they met their match. Maybe this had been inevitable.

But she was still alive.

She was still alive, and Jaime was dead.

Kylena finally slowed to a stop long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. It wasn't fair. Jaime had done everything right. They'd been playing the Game the way it was supposed to be played. They'd been willing to fight, they'd come up with clever plans, and they'd even taken the initiative to look for other groups. But it hadn't been enough. It hadn't saved them from being crushed into the ground by someone who simply had a stronger power. It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

Kylena glanced back behind her. She knew what she should do. What the MAAB would want her to do. Maybe even what the coaches would want her to do. They would want her to come up with some sort of a plan. To head back and attack the other girl while she still had some idea of where she was. But how was she supposed to fight the weather? She hadn't even been able to get close to the other girl without being blown back. And that was while Jaime had been projecting their pain at her, which had to be distracting. If she tried to attack while she had the other girl's full attention, she wouldn't stand a chance.

Except…

Except the other girl was alone now, too. Her friends were dead, too. And everyone had to sleep, didn't they?

Kylena kept her fists and started walking again – slower this time, but still heading away from the circle. Everyone slept sometime, but she had no way of knowing when. And she would have to sleep, too – this time without anyone to keep watch. She had to find somewhere safer. Or if not safer, then at least a bit less open. It was only afternoon now, but the afternoons seemed to pass quickly, the sun setting swiftly behind the mountains. It probably wouldn't be long before it started getting dark.

What was she supposed to do then?

Savannah Kingston, 19

What were they supposed to do now?

Savannah glanced around as she and Liv made their way around the circle, sorting through the bags of supplies that were still there. She had to admit, it had been good to have some sort of a goal – somewhere to go, something concrete to do. The card that Penelope had sent had led her to the circle. Led her to Liv. But what were they supposed to do now that they had found each other?

Savannah pulled a few bandages from one of the bags. That was one thing they could do, at least – bandage Liv's leg a bit better. Whatever supplies Liv and her group had had before returning to the circle, they apparently hadn't included many first aid supplies. Liv nodded reluctantly and sat down, bracing herself for the pain. "So what happened?" Savannah asked as she removed the makeshift bandage. It looked like something had pierced her leg.

"Debris from one of the tornadoes." Liv couldn't help a grimace as Savannah poured some rubbing alcohol over the wound. "Elena shielded us from most of it, but a bit got through."

"Huh."

"What?"

Savannah shook her head. "Nothing."

"What?"

"Just … well, my electricity doesn't hurt me, so I guess I figured your storm wouldn't hurt you."

Liv looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. Finally, she shook her head. "That's not the same thing. Think of it like … like if one of your lightning bolts struck a tree, and the tree split and part of it landed on your head, that would still hurt, right?"

"Yeah."

"It's kind of like that. A lot of the damage a tornado does isn't from the actual wind. It's from the things it picks up and just … hurls all over the place. Those things can still hurt me, even if the actual tornado might not."

Savannah nodded. That made sense. "Still pretty neat, though. I only saw them from a distance, but … wow. I guess they're probably a bit different up close, though, huh?"

"Yeah." Liv shook her head as Savannah finished bandaging her leg. "A bit like your lightning, I suppose. Beautiful from a distance, deadly up close."

Savannah looked away. "Yeah."

Liv shifted awkwardly, then slowly got to her feet. "Let's see what we've got for food."

"You don't think we should…"

"What?"

"Head somewhere else? Take some supplies and … leave?"

"And go where?"

"I don't know," Savannah admitted. "But do you really think it's safe to stay here?"

Liv cocked her head. "As safe as anywhere else, probably. Why?"

"Don't you think people will come back here?"

"You mean besides the people who already did?"

Savannah hesitated. "Maybe. We don't know how many people might be left. There could still be other groups out there who might think that coming back here is a good way to find other contestants."

"Like you?"

"Well … yes. I came here looking for people. I found you. If others have the same idea…"

"Let them come."

Savannah blinked. Oh. She knew that look. After Coburn had died – after she had killed him – she had wanted a fight. Any fight. Maybe Liv did, too. Except … well, she hadn't fought her. But if anyone else came along, they probably wouldn't want to start recruiting. Not now. Two of them could survive, after all. Would people really want to start forming groups larger than that now that they were farther into the Games?

Maybe. They didn't really know how many others were left. And a lot of them had formed larger groups at the start. Still, something in Liv's expression suggested she wasn't looking for more people to join them. Savannah reached for one of the bags of food. "Let them come," she agreed. "We'll be ready for them."

But would they really be ready?

Rick Clifton, 19

Was he really ready for a fight?

Rick pulled his jacket tighter as he followed the creature dragging his water bottle. It hadn't slowed down, and had only stopped a few times when the water bottle had lodged itself against a rock and the creature had to wrench it free. It wasn't very fast, but it was persistent. Wherever it was going, it was determined to get there.

Rick adjusted his backpack, wondering – not for the first time – whether this was really a good idea. But it was a bit late to go back now. He'd been following the little creature for hours. If he didn't see this through, that meant he'd wasted … what? A few hours? It wasn't as if he'd had anything better to do. Still, the thought that all of that walking had been for nothing was … disappointing.

But there was something else. He was curious. Curious about who he might find up ahead, about who else might be left. He just wished he had more of a plan. Or at least more of a weapon. He'd picked up a few rocks and tucked them in his pockets, and he was holding onto one of them, but that didn't seem like much. Then again, if whoever was up ahead was sending out little creatures to find water for them, they might not have much in the way of supplies, either.

Unless it was a trap.

Rick shook his head. He kept coming back to that thought. It was probably a trap. He was probably walking right into a trap. So why was he still walking?

Up ahead, the creature finally stopped. Stopped by a large rock. No, not a large rock. It was moving. Just a little – just barely enough for Rick to be certain. But he was certain. It was moving. Which meant that someone was moving it.

Rick froze. He'd been following the little creature for hours, and he hadn't exactly been trying to hide. Even if he'd wanted to, there hadn't been anything to hide behind. So it couldn't possibly have failed to notice him. Which meant whoever was controlling the larger rock creature had to know he was there. Rick watched as the rock shifted a little more. He could still run. He probably should run. Except…

Except no one had attacked him. If this was a trap, wouldn't it have sprung by now? Wouldn't the rock creature be doing something, instead of just sitting there, watching him?

And it did seem to be sitting – slowly sitting up, and reaching for the water bottle that the smaller one still held. But what would a rock want with water? Unless…

Rick took a step closer. It wasn't just a rock creature, controlled from elsewhere. There must be someone controlling it from inside. As he took another step, the arm that was reaching down stopped, as if whoever was inside had finally noticed Rick. Rick dropped the rock in his hand. It wasn't as if it was going to do any good against another much larger rock anyway. And maybe there was another option…

Rick held up his hands. "Are you alone?" No answer. He nodded towards the little creature with the water bottle. "I was just following it because it took my water." There was a slight movement. "It's all right; I've got another one." Rick removed his other water bottle from his pack. "You're welcome to that one, and I can show you where there's more water."

That was the strange part, really. He'd passed several smaller lakes on the way – one of them quite recently. If whoever was inside the rock suit had simply wanted water, there were easier ways to get it. Unless…

"You can't move, can you," Rick realized. The rock had moved, but only to a seated position. It hadn't stood up. Hadn't charged him. Maybe that was because it couldn't. Because whoever was inside couldn't. Rick's stomach churned. Maybe he would have a chance in a fight. But whoever was inside was still covered with a layer of rock. Even if they couldn't stand up, one swing from that arm could probably do a lot of damage.

But if they couldn't stand, then they couldn't follow him. He could just leave. Maybe he should just leave. Rick took a step backwards. "Look, I don't want to fight. I don't think that would end well. If you don't want to talk, I can just … I can go. I'll just go now." He took another step backwards, and then another. Maybe that was the best he could hope for now – being able to walk away with his life.

Suddenly, the top of the rock creature began to melt away, revealing a face. "Wait!" called a voice, hoarse and raspy, but loud enough for Rick to hear.

"Please wait."

Henry Helstrom, 14

"Please wait."

Henry held their breath as the boy took a step closer. His lips were moving again, too quickly for Henry to even take a guess at what he was saying. Henry shook their head, instantly regretting the sudden motion as a wave of dizziness hit them. "I can't hear you." It was still strange not being able to hear their own voice, but the look on the stranger's voice confirmed they had said the words aloud. The boy's mouth formed an "o" of recognition for a moment. Then he pointed to Henry, then gestured around the area, then made a shrugging motion. Henry took a guess. "Am I alone? That's what you want to know?"

The boy nodded. Henry hesitated, but only for a moment. There wasn't much point in lying. "I'm alone," they confirmed. "You?"

The boy nodded. So they were both alone – and they would both just have to take each other's word for that. But if the boy wasn't alone – if there was someone else hiding nearby – they would have attacked by now, wouldn't they? And the boy was probably thinking the same thing about Henry.

Henry glanced down at the little golem with the water bottle and flicked their wrist. Quickly, the golem unscrewed the cap and scrambled up the larger golem's arm, bringing the water bottle to Henry's lips. Henry drank quickly, gratefully, and then turned back to the stranger, who was watching curiously. Henry took a deep breath. What the hell. "I'm Henry."

The boy's lips moved. Then he glanced around as if looking for something. He rummaged in his backpack for a moment, and removed something. Henry squinted. "A pretzel?" The boy shook his head. "A piece of pretzel. A pretzel stick." That got a nod. "A stick?" The boy put a hand to his ear. "Sounds like stick?" Another nod. "Mick? Nick? Dick? Vick? Rick?" That got a thumbs-up. "Rick? That's your name? Rick?"

The boy – apparently Rick – nodded. He took a few steps closer, holding out his pack. Henry hesitated. They were hungry. A wave of their hand sent the little golem scampering forward to investigate the pack. It returned with a beef stick in one little hand and a graham cracker in the other.

Slowly, Henry let the rock around their right arm melt away, allowing them to grab the food. They could just let the golem keep feeding them, but that felt too … too babyish. They could still move. They just couldn't walk straight. Couldn't fight. And didn't even want to think about moving their left arm, which was still covered by the rock. They didn't want to look at what might be underneath, but it still hurt like hell.

Rick's lips were moving again. Henry sighed in frustration. Damn, they needed a better way to communicate. Rick's expression turned apologetic, and he gestured vaguely towards Henry's arm, and the golem suit. Henry understood that clearly enough. He was curious. He wanted to know what had happened. No point in lying. "Tornado picked me up and threw me," they explained.

Rick cringed, and Henry was pretty sure he mouthed the word "sorry." Henry raised an eyebrow. "No point in being sorry unless you made the—" Oh. "Were those … your tornadoes?"

Rick nodded. He looked almost … embarrassed. Henry took a bite of the graham cracker. "Pretty impressive. I mean, it probably would've been cooler if I hadn't been caught right in the middle of one, but still impressive."

Rick took a seat nearby, then gave his own ear a tug and pointed at Henry. Henry shook their head. "No, that happened afterwards. How about you?"

Me? Henry couldn't hear the word, but it was obvious in Rick's expression. Henry pointed to Rick's shoulder. "Looks like a burn. Leave a campfire going too long?" Rick shook his head. "It was a fight, huh? Someone who controls fire?" Rick nodded. "So you fought someone who could shoot fire, and you survived? Sounds like you're on a hot streak." Nothing. "Get it? Hot streak?"

Rick facepalmed, but there was something on his face that was almost a smile. It was pretty impressive – surviving a fight like that. Rick pointed at Henry, then made a swirling motion with his hand. Henry nodded. "Yeah, I survived a tornado." Maybe they weren't in great shape, but they were alive. That was the important thing.

And now they weren't alone.

Frederick Bouvy, 17

At least he wasn't alone.

Frederick leaned back against a tree as Kenji rubbed a couple sticks together with ridiculous speed. Sparks leapt from the sticks, but still hadn't managed to catch the wood below on fire. But at least Kenji had decided to stay a while longer. Frederick had thought he might take off earlier, and there was no telling what he might do once night came and one of them had to sleep, but for now, at least, he had some company.

"Look, if it won't catch, that's fine," Frederick insisted. "We've still got plenty of other food. The fish can wait until tomorrow. Maybe the wood will dry out by then."

Kenji nodded. "I just thought … well, a fire would be good for warmth, too, right?"

"Are you cold?" Frederick only realized after he'd asked just how silly a question it was. Of course he was cold. Frederick was cold, too; it was just that he'd gotten used to it. He hadn't been really warm for days. Had he been warm since the Games started? Not since that first night – in the house with Seb and Alphonso. That seemed like such a long time ago.

Frederick pulled the sleeping bag from his backpack. "Here. We can wrap up in this if you like. Warmth is warmth, right?"

"Yeah."

"I guess it was pretty easy to keep warm with a werewolf around, huh?"

Kenji nodded. "Florence liked to snuggle up in her fur."

Frederick chuckled. "Huh."

"What?"

"Guess I never pictured a vampire turning into a bat small enough to do that. Always pictured something bigger. Pretty sure the bat she turned into during the talent show was a bit big for that."

Kenji nodded. "Yeah. It was just easier to ride along on Emery when she was smaller. She couldn't fly very well after…"

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "After what?"

Kenji hesitated, but only for a moment. "The first day, we attacked another group, and one of them screamed. Made Florence deaf, but it also affected her balance. She couldn't fly very well after that."

Frederick shook his head. "Must've made it hard to communicate."

Kenji shrugged. "Not really. We both know sign language … knew sign language. My twin sister's deaf, and Florence … well, she was over a hundred years old, so I guess she picked it up somewhere."

"Huh." He'd just assumed the rest of the contestants were around the same age. And she certainly hadn't looked that old. But vampires didn't, did they? "Twin sister, huh?"

Kenji nodded. "Yeah. Mika." For a moment, there was silence. When Kenji spoke, his voice was quiet. "I don't even know where they are right now. We split up when the Sentinels came – those of us who were there. My dad, Mika, and Emi. Isamu and Nami were already … I don't even know if they're alive. I'll probably never know."

Frederick shook his head. At least he knew where his family was. Well, his parents, at least. It had been ages since he'd even thought about—

"I don't know where my brother is, either," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Kenji looked up from his sticks. "What happened?"

"He left. When I was little. That's what my parents said – left. I found out later they'd sent him to a mental institute. But that was it. I don't know where, or if he's still there. They never wanted to talk about it, and I barely remembered him." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. That's probably not anything like what you're feeling. I just…"

"What was his name?"

"Roderick. Roderick Ferdinand Gerard Bouvy."

"That's a mouthful."

"Yeah."

"But sophisticated."

Frederick managed a smile. "I always thought so. Mine's Frederick William Phillip Bouvy."

Kenji smiled back and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Frederick William Phillilp Bouvy." Frederick shook it.

It felt good.

Lea Cervantes, 18

It felt good to keep moving.

Lea slowed down long enough to take a few sips of water and then kept going. She was making progress, and she wanted to keep making progress as long as she could. The sun was already getting lower in the sky. Soon, it would start to set behind the mountains, and then it would be dark. Which meant it would be harder to keep moving. Eventually, she would have to stop.

And whenever she stopped, she had time to think.

No. No, moving was better. Making progress towards her goal was better than thinking about what she would have to do once she got there. Better to keep her mind on something else. Anything else.

That had been easier when Elio was there.

No. No, that wasn't a helpful thought, either. Elio was gone. And the more she thought about him, the more she pictured him watching her disapprovingly from … wherever he was now. Heaven, if he was right. If what she'd always believed was right. He'd been so certain. She'd been so certain, once. Now…

Now it didn't seem to matter as much – what happened afterwards. She was too focused on trying to survive the now to worry about that. In the back of her mind, something insisted that it didn't matter what happened here – that eternity was a lot longer compared to the time she might buy herself on this earth by surviving the Games. But that time was … well, it was easier to picture. She could see herself living a life after the Games. Maybe it wouldn't be the sort of life she'd always imagined for herself, but it was a life. She didn't want to die here. Not yet. There was so much she still wanted to do.

So much she wouldn't get to do, even if she survived.

Lea shook the thought from her head. Life was life. The coaches were still alive. Penelope had survived last year, and she certainly didn't seem to regret it, even if coaching contestants wasn't what she'd pictured doing with her life. Besides, it wasn't as if she would have to do that for the rest of her life. Would she?

Now she was getting ahead of herself, she knew, but picturing what life might be like after the Games was better than the alternative. What did the coaches do the rest of the year? It seemed like they had helped prepare for this year's Games, but that couldn't take up all their time, could it? And once there were more of them, then what? Could the MAAB really just … keep them somewhere?

Of course they could. But would they? Maybe. Maybe she was kidding herself, and there wasn't really anything to look forward to after the Games. Maybe it would be better if it all ended here, and she went on to … whatever was next. Maybe Heaven would be better than this.

But…

But if she lived, she could try to make it better. Wasn't that what they were supposed to do? Make life better here on earth? After all, Heaven would always be better – no matter what you compared it to. But that wasn't supposed to stop people from living their lives and trying to make other people's lives better.

Except the MAAB didn't want her to make other people's lives better. They wanted her to end other people's lives. Or for other people to end hers. They didn't really seem to care which way it went, as long as they got their show. As long as they could show the world that mutants would always turn on each other, that they were dangerous, that they deserved what was happening to them.

And here she was, playing their Game. Contributing to their story. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that those were the only two options – play along or die. Or play along and die, of course. Playing the Game like they wanted wasn't a guarantee that she would survive. It just meant that there was a chance.

But she wanted that chance.

Lea clenched her fists as she kept walking. She wanted to live. Just like everyone else. If God was going to punish her for that … well, then he had his work cut out for him, because just about anyone else would do the same thing, in her position. The other contestants this year were doing the same thing. The contestants last year were doing the same thing. If he was going to condemn her for that, then at least she would have plenty of company.

They'd all made the same choice.

Kiara Moore, 15

"Looks like we made the right choice."

Kiara nodded towards the lightning in the distance. It was getting darker now – dark enough to see the lightning clearly. It was coming from back towards the circle. Someone was there – someone they might have run into, if they'd followed the coaches' directions. And someone who could shoot lightning like that certainly wasn't someone they wanted to run into.

"Looks like," Fae agreed, but there was a slight tremor in her voice.

Kiara cocked her head. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You sure?"

"I just … I just want this to be over."

Kiara raised an eyebrow. Fae wasn't really suggesting they should go back and attack someone who could shoot lightning like that, was she? "So do I," Kiara agreed. "But I'd rather make it out alive than not make it out because we wanted it over with quickly. We're in no position to take on someone who can do that."

"Maybe not, but will we ever be?"

Kiara hesitated. That was a good question. Would Fae even be able to get close enough to scream before lightning could strike her? How far away could the lightning strike? If Fae got hit, would Kiara have time to heal her, or would lightning kill her instantly? If she managed to scream and make their opponent deaf, that wouldn't stop them from shooting lightning. And if Fae probably wouldn't get close enough to scream, Kiara definitely wasn't going to be able to get close enough to touch them. "I don't know," she admitted. "But we're definitely not right now."

"What if it's just them? What if we're the only ones left – us and them?"

Kiara hesitated. She didn't have a good answer for that. She'd been hoping that some of the other contestants – the stronger contestants, with the powers that were more useful for fighting – would take each other out before they had to worry about them. But if they were some of the only contestants left…

No. No point in getting caught up in the maybes. "I think they would've told us if that were the case."

Fae raised an eyebrow. "Would they?"

No. Of course not. Why would they? Just because she and Fae wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible didn't mean that the MAAB felt the same way. They were probably enjoying this. They probably wanted it to last. Hell, maybe they'd even sent the envelopes knowing that she and Fae wouldn't listen, that they would head off in some random direction away from a fight. Maybe they were enjoying watching the contestants play cat and mouse games. They probably wanted this to go on as long as possible. The longer it lasted, after all, the more footage they got.

Kiara gave Fae's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's just focus on getting through tonight, okay? We're a good distance away from … whoever's back there. Doesn't look like they're moving, either. They stay there, we find somewhere to rest. We can figure out a better plan tomorrow."

A better plan. They'd never really had much of a plan. They'd just been trying to survive, one day after another. Trying to avoid the other contestants. It hadn't worked, but at least they'd tried.

Fae nodded. She probably didn't have a better plan, either. And she did look tired. It wasn't quite dark yet, but there was no rule saying they could only sleep while it was dark. Besides, by the time they had something to eat, it would be almost dark. "Let's make it to that lake up there," Kiara suggested, pointing up ahead. There wasn't much cover anywhere nearby, but at least there would be water to refill their bottles, and they had plenty of food. "We can rest there for the night."

"Okay," Fae agreed, but there was still a reluctant edge in her voice. She wanted to get out of there. Kiara certainly couldn't blame her for that. But they had to keep playing it smart. Some of the other contestants might be able to afford to be reckless – to shoot off a bunch of lightning and just dare people to come and try to attack. She and Fae couldn't play the Game like that, but that didn't mean they couldn't play.

They just had to be more careful.

Fae Tomasini, 13

She was tired of being careful.

Fae kicked a small rock into the lake as she and Kiara settled down. Kiara had a good point. She wanted to play it smart. She wanted to play it careful.

But where had that gotten them?

They'd done their best to avoid the other contestants, but it hadn't helped. They'd been attacked right at the start. A boy had found them the very first night. Then they'd been attacked again. And then the storm. Playing smart and careful hadn't been enough to save Iola. And it would have gotten them all killed if Iola hadn't been able to shield the two of them. Maybe it was time to change their strategy.

Except…

Except the two of them were still alive. If they hadn't been so careful, would they all be dead? Or would they all still be alive? There was no way of knowing. No way to tell how things might have gone, if they'd done things even just a little bit differently. If they'd waited a little bit longer. If they'd known a little bit more.

If they'd known…

Henry had known.

Stop it. She'd taken care of Henry. They were as good as dead now. Maybe they were dead by now. She had done that. She'd had to do that. If she and Kiara were going to live, then Henry had to die. That was all there was to it.

That was all.

Fae looked up as Kiara handed her a poptart and a package of fruit snacks. At least they had plenty of supplies now. Enough to last them quite a while.

But she didn't want the Games to last quite a while.

"I know," Kiara said softly, wrapping an arm around Fae's shoulder. "Look, I know. I want this to be over, too. But if we feel that way, then everyone else probably does, too. They'll start to get tired. They'll start to make mistakes. And that's when we'll have a chance. We don't have to be able to play it smart forever – just a little bit longer than everybody else. We just have to wait for them to slip up first."

"You think they will?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Kiara nodded towards the lightning in the distance. "That. Does that look like playing it smart? No. And maybe we're not in a position to attack them and come out on top, but maybe someone else is. If nothing else, they're giving away their position. Telling us where to avoid going. That's not playing smart. That's reckless. That's a contestant who doesn't have anyone to hold them back from doing something outrageous."

"Like attacking someone who can shoot lightning."

"Yeah."

"Like I wanted to do."

Kiara shrugged. "Hey, we all have terrible ideas now and then. That's why we have each other – to make sure we think before we do something like that."

Fae nodded. "Thanks."

Kiara gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You're welcome."

Fae shook her head as she watched the lightning. Kiara was right; whoever was back there certainly wasn't being subtle. Maybe they were gambling that they didn't have to be. Maybe they didn't know how many of the other contestants were left, either. Maybe they were hoping to draw in the last few.

Except they would never know when it was the last few. Even if the MAAB sent them some sort of message telling them there were a certain number of contestants left, they had no reason to actually trust them. They could be close to the end, but they would have no way of knowing unless they were the only two left.

She just wished she knew whether they were close.

Dr. Alvin Mendelson, 61

"Did you know?"

Alvin took a step back towards the door, surprised by the force of the question. Maria's face was red, and Ian was glaring. "Did I know what?" Alvin asked.

Maria took a step closer. "Roderick Ferdinand? That name doesn't mean anything to you?"

Alvin shook his head. "Should it?"

"He didn't know." Vincent's voice was quiet, but certain. "Think it through. They knew about Kenji's family. They knew about Rick's mother. They told us about both. Why wouldn't they have told us if they knew about Rod?"

Alvin nodded as he put the pieces together. Rod. Roderick Ferdinand Gerard Bouvy. "Frederick's brother. He was one of yours."

Maria nodded, the color in her face subsiding a little. "We knew him as Rod. Rod Ferdinand. We just assumed that was his full name. No one at the school ever asked too many questions about things like that. Someone shows up wanting to be called Rogue or Nightcrawler, you don't question that. Some people don't go by the names they were given – and some drop the last name."

Alvin nodded. "We knew Frederick had a brother. That much was in the file. Bit of a family scandal, details hushed up, that sort of thing. He was sent to an institute when Frederick was four. Some sort of schizophrenia, I think."

"Telepathy," Ian corrected.

"Easy mistake to make," Vincent added generously. "That's what the doctors thought about my voices, too."

Maria shook her head. "That was thirteen years ago. You didn't have any more recent information?"

"The institute's records indicated he died nine months after he was admitted," Alvin explained. "We didn't see any reason to dig further. Clearly, we were wrong. I take it your professor arranged for the forged paperwork."

Vincent nodded. "Probably. The timing sounds about right. He'd been there for a little over a year when I arrived. Hot Rod – that's what we called him. Before the attack on the school, he was working on some sort of tech he thought might be useful against the Sentinels."

Alvin took a seat. "It didn't work, did it."

Ian crossed his arms. "What makes you say that?"

Alvin sighed. "If you had something that actually worked against the Sentinels, I don't think you'd be stupid enough to tell me about it. That, and the fact that the Sentinels were successful in their attack on your school. He died in the attack, didn't he."

Maria nodded. "He was one of the first. He said he had to fire his weapon at close range, so he volunteered to try to fend off the attack."

"We didn't find his body. We ran DNA tests on the ones we did find; we would have noticed the connection when we got Frederick's DNA."

"The Sentinels don't always leave bodies," Vincent pointed out bitterly.

That was certainly true. The Sentinels were something of a blunt instrument. They weren't subtle or even very precise, but they got the job done. Alvin shook his head. "I'm sorry. If we'd known before, you could have told him. But between the forged papers at the institute and the records you three destroyed before the Sentinels got to you, there wasn't much of a trail. We'll look closer next time."

Ian leaned forward. "There's still something you can do. He deserves to know."

"You want to send him something?"

"Damn right I do."

"If it's not something that will move the Games along—"

"You don't give a damn about that," Vincent muttered. "You're the one who gave Rick that information about his mother – not because it would do anything for you, but just because you thought he should know. What makes this different?"

"The others will want a reason why we're sending something."

"Then give them one." Everyone turned to look at Penelope, who shrugged. "It may not help move the Games along, but telling Frederick about his brother does help you with something else."

Alvin leaned back in his chair. "I'm listening. Why does it help us?"

"Because Frederick's not alone."

"We can't hide from the whole world up here. There are kindred spirits out there for us, but we've gotta look for them, and we've gotta give them a chance, or else we'll always be alone."