Laurel

Every night, when the day saw tributes die, the Anthem would play and display the faces of the deceased with their districts bannered below in the dark sky above the arena. A way of showing those uninvolved in the deaths of those who were no longer in the competition, and those who were still in the Games. And above all else, a reminder that it could be their faces in the sky one night. No one was safe.

With the cannon from this afternoon, they'd be waiting for nine faces tonight. Less than half the tributes they started with, and yet it still felt like too many. When the horns sounded, Laurel signaled Joanna and Danny to join her at the entrance of the cave so they could watch together.

They started with District Three, showing the face of the girl, Felicity. That meant that none of the tributes from Districts One and Two were dead. For the most part disappointing, but Laurel also felt some relief. That meant Oliver was still alive and in the Games.

After the District Three girl, they went directly to District Five, so her district partner was still alive, as were the District Four tributes. District Five showed the faces of both their tributes, meaning they were out of the Games completely. Next was District Six, which only showed the face of the girl. Zolomon was alive too, unfortunately.

When they showed District Seven, something got caught in Laurel's throat. Both Rory and Evelyn's faces accusingly stared down at them, and Danny began to tear up again. Joanna put a hand on his back in comfort, while Laurel hid her eyes. She couldn't be seen crying. The Capitol would just perceive it as a weakness.

They skipped District Eight, which meant Vanch was alive too. Unsurprising, but no less infuriating. Joanna and Danny's presence next to her meant skipping District Nine as well, so it was on to District Ten. Both tributes were dead there as well.

Both of the Elevens were alive. Which meant the last dead tribute was a Twelve. After a second, the face of the girl was shown, and the Anthem cut out. "Nine down, fourteen more to go," Joanna noted morosely. What went unsaid was that some of those fourteen were going to be at least two of them. If they were really unlucky, it was going to be all of them.

Laurel simply shook her head. "Let's just go to bed. I'll take the first watch."

From the outset, one of the agreements Laurel and Joanna made was that none of their younger allies would be put on watch duty at night. They were just too young to last that long with that little sleep and would be little defense against whatever threat came their way. Instead, the two of them would split the watch shifts into two four-hour shifts, using a moonlight tracking trick one of the trainers showed them to count the hours. They would switch who would take which shift every night to keep things fair. None of the children had been particularly happy about this, so a compromise had been made to let them help with managing the supplies and making snares, so they would feel useful.

So Laurel spent her last four hours of wakefulness sitting at the front of the cave, watching the ocean, and the moon, and drawing pictures in the sand. Part of her wondered if there was any point to having watch duty considering how unlikely it was for the Careers to hunt at night this early into the Games, but then she remembered it wasn't just the Careers they had to worry about. The Gamemakers were not above sending mutts after the tributes at night or finding some way to make things more perilous in the arena by removing a water source or setting some kind of trap.

When the four-hour mark passed, Laurel went ahead and woke Joanna up. It was a trial, considering the other girl had fallen asleep curled around her younger brother, but somehow they managed with Danny none the wiser. Joanna set herself up in the same spot Laurel had earlier, while Laurel collapsed next to Danny, making a makeshift pillow out of her backpack. She was out like a light within minutes.

She woke up four hours later, suitably refreshed. This was to say that Laurel still felt like she had at least a good two hours left in her, but they didn't have the time for that and this was enough to make do. She headed to the freshwater pool at the back of the cave, stretching her arms and legs, and washed her face to wake herself up. After refilling her water bottle, she headed to the front of the cave to say hello to Joanna.

"Give me a few minutes," Laurel told the guard. "I'm going to head to the forest and see if Danny's snares caught anything for breakfast."

Joanna, already close to nodding off, gave her a thumbs up. Satisfied with her approval, Laurel slung her small backpack over her shoulders and jogged to the forest. She didn't want to keep Joanna waiting, but at the same time, she didn't want to go so fast that she scared any potential game off or (worse) signal another nearby tribute of her presence. This just wasn't the time for that. She was hungry. They were all hungry.

Thankfully, when she arrived at the trees and the first of Danny's snares, she found a dead squirrel in one of them. Pleased, she freed the meat from the wires, cleaned off some of the blood, and tied it to a long branch she found. She did the same with the rest of the game she found (more squirrels and some rabbits), doing her best to calculate how much food all of it could provide them. With good moderation, it would be enough to last them through tomorrow. Perfect.

She made sure to reset the snares before returning to the cave with the dead animals. Relieving Joanna of watch duty and allowing the other girl to catch up on some sleep, Laurel restarted the fire inside the cave and woke up Danny. The boy (once he was fully awake) was more than happy to help her prepare breakfast, roasting the meat while Laurel carefully skinned every squirrel and rabbit she had gotten her hands on.

When they were done cooking, Laurel kept one cooked rabbit and one cooked squirrel, setting them aside for them to eat when they were done cooling, and packed the rest in the plastic bags that came with her pack. That would keep the food preserved and saved until it was time to eat it at lunch and dinner later today. She stored the bags in her small pack and then began cutting into the cooked meat she had set aside, separating it into three equal portions for herself, Danny, and Joanna.

Breakfast was quiet. They woke Joanna up so she could eat, and that was all they really did. Nobody was up for any conversation, either because it was early in the morning, or because the fact that they were actually in an arena, in the Hunger Games, was finally sinking in. That would be overwhelming for even the most prepared tribute.

"Should we stay in the cave?" Danny asked when breakfast was over and they moved on to discussing strategy. "We have fresh water, and we're not too far from the forest. It's safe here."

Laurel and Joanna exchanged sympathetic looks. Oh, if only they were still so young and naive. "We can't, Danny," Laurel replied carefully, adopting a certain gentleness. "The Capitol won't like that."

An understatement. That would make them boring, and the Capitol hated boring tributes. Staying in one place and doing nothing was just begging to have a mutt or something worse sent after them.

"Plus, staying in one place will make it easier for the Careers to find us when they start hunting in our direction," Joanna pointed out when Danny didn't look quite convinced yet. "So we have to keep moving."

"But…" The young child looked around helplessly at the cavern walls and the warmth and safety they provided. Truly, an ideal shelter — it was no wonder he didn't want to leave.

But they had to, or else this place would become their prison — and quite possibly their deathbed. "Danny, how about this?" Laurel suggested. "Why don't we travel for the next couple of hours and, if we don't find a new place for us to sleep, we come back here? Does that sound fair?"

Danny frowned at her words but didn't outright dismiss them. After a moment of thought, he slowly nodded, and Laurel nearly cheered in delight. With their course of action for the day decided, the trio of tributes began cleaning up the cave and preparing for their departure. They packed up all their supplies and did their best to conceal any signs of their previous presence in case the Careers began tracking for tributes in this direction.

When they were done, Danny took his sister's hand and they left the cave, heading in the direction farthest from the Cornucopia — and away from the Careers.

Oliver

In exchange for agreeing to stay behind as guards during the hunt yesterday, Oliver and Chase were excused from night watch duty. Therefore, when Oliver woke up the following morning, he was completely refreshed. A quick sip of cold water and a splash more on his face, and he was fully awake.

A quick look around showed he wasn't the only one: Emiko, still on watch duty, was up as well (if close to dozing off again), as was Helena, who had graciously offered to take first watch as a concession for having managed to get the first non-bloodbath kill. Chase was also stirring, the only other person who had gotten a full eight hours like Oliver. Only Nyssa and Diaz were still asleep.

"I'll make breakfast," Oliver decided, announcing it to his allies with little fanfare. He headed to the stockpile of food and started picking stuff out, not bothering to wait for any agreement or protest.

Surprisingly (or perhaps not), Emiko still had enough vitriol this early in the morning to make a snide remark. "Do you even know how to cook?" she asked mockingly.

"I do," he offhandedly replied, not even bothering to look up. He didn't need to see Emiko's shocked snarl and allowed himself the tiniest smirk. "My family's maid taught me everything she knew growing up."

"And she was a great teacher," Helena interjected, fiddling with her crossbow. She had tasted Oliver's food before, at a school-sponsored potluck. "I'm fine with anything you make Oliver — as long as it isn't chili."

Oliver couldn't help himself. He chuckled. "Got it, Helena."

The next hour was spent preparing an armful of eggs, vegetables, and meat into six large, delicious omelets using the grill. Oliver carefully plated each one and handed them off to each of his allies, starting with Emiko. Despite his dislike of her, he couldn't deny that she deserved the first one for taking the last shift of watch duty. He still had that much courtesy left in him.

Thankfully, there were no complaints about his cooking. On the contrary, everyone was flushed with compliments, even Nyssa, and Emiko hadn't delivered him a single insult. Diaz offhandedly suggested that Oliver be in charge of all meals and the District One tribute, sensing an opportunity, smoothly stated that he would be happy to if it meant he would be permanently off night watch duty. Everyone considered this a fair trade and agreed, some more reluctantly than others, and Oliver rejoiced in the victory.

Once breakfast was over and they were all full, they went ahead and began discussing today's activities. The general agreement was that they would go after another of the solo outliers, and common sense told them they go south, the same direction as last time, in search of one of the two remaining tributes who had run in that direction after the bloodbath ended. Having one tribute die brutally this morning would be enough to satisfy the Gamemakers with their alliance for today and possibly tomorrow, and make them more likely to go after one of the other alliances for further entertainment.

Oliver nearly volunteered to stay behind for guard duty again but stopped himself before he could. Too many guard shifts in the row would make the others suspicious, if not give off the appearance of cowardice or weakness. Some of the smarter ones, like Chase, might even start suspecting his reluctance to kill if Oliver wasn't careful enough. If they realized the truth, that would only end in disaster for him.

So this time, Nyssa and Helena were the ones to stay behind. Nyssa because she had gotten the most kills in the bloodbath, and Helena because she had gotten the kill for yesterday. The rest of them were off to the south to search for their quarry.

Chase took the lead this time. Whether it was because of his proximity to Nyssa as her district partner or because he was such a smooth talker, nobody protested. Emiko and Diaz guided them to the location of the three trails they had found, and after some debate, they decided to split up — Emiko and Chase would follow the left trail, towards the beach, while Oliver and Diaz would follow the middle trail, toward the mountains. Nobody took the right trail, as that was the one Helena chose, the one that took her to the girl from Five.

When Diaz and he closed in on the mountains, they decided to split up further and search the general area. Whichever tribute took this path had to be around here, as none of the ones that had gone solo had shown great climbing skills during training. They might have been faking it, but Oliver highly doubted it.

He did his best to pretend he was looking for the sake of the audience watching at home. In reality, Oliver was just waiting for one of the others to find the tribute and get on with killing them so he could go back to the camp as soon as possible. The raging sickness in his heart ever since he had killed the boy from Five was as strong as ever, and Oliver had no desire to make it worse. Especially when he was expected to kill this next tribute slower this time around.

Just when enough time had passed for him to feasibly call it quits with everyone none the wiser, a flash of red hair crossed his sight. Oliver froze, and ducked behind the nearest tree, tentatively peeking behind the trunk to see what it was.

It was a tribute. More specifically, it was the girl from Eleven: Pamela, if he remembered correctly. She was hidden beneath a large bush, shivering under a piece of plastic. Had she slept there?

Oliver did his best to try and remember something about her, but nothing really came to mind. Her interview hadn't been particularly inspiring and her score, a six, had been low. Just barely beating out the margin for competency. And training, all he could remember there was her hanging out a lot at the edible plants station. What little time she spent at the combat stations showed little aptitude for fighting, so that made sense.

Regardless, she was a sitting duck right now. Oliver had her dead to rights. Career strategy dictated he should attack her right now, restrain her, and make her death a slow and painful one, but it dawned on him he didn't really have to. None of his allies were here as far as he could tell. He could just kill her quickly and claim that it was the only way, that she was too wily or something to pin down. It's not like any of them would know — only the audience would, and they had no part in what happened in the arena beyond giving them money for sponsorship gifts. He was home free.

With that in mind, Oliver drew out an arrow and notched it into his bow. He aimed the projectile at Pamela, his arms trembling. The girl was completely oblivious to his presence, her body shivering. Instinctively, she turned around on her side, giving Oliver a full glimpse of her young face. Her eyes were still closed, she was still asleep. Oliver pulled back the arrow, the bowstring now fully taut.

A minute passed. And then another.

"Come on," the archer groaned beneath his breath, lowering the bow. He (gently) hit his head against the bark of the tree trunk, muttering multiple curses. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he do it?

After a few more minutes of trying to gather back his courage, Oliver re-notched the arrow and tried again. He took aim, pulled back the arrow, and prepared to fire. Then Pamela yawned and curled into herself, and Oliver knew at that moment that he couldn't do it. That he might never be able to do it, not ever again. And if he couldn't kill her like this…

He put the arrow back in his quiver and strapped his bow back to his back. He left the area as quickly as he could, as far away as possible, making sure that Pamela didn't hear him on the way out. Oliver would just pretend he never found her to the others. It's not like they would ever find out.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Oliver froze. It took him a minute to realize the words weren't directed at him, and he turned around to see a smirking Diaz approaching the prone Pamela. The girl opened her bleary eyes, only to shriek when she saw the huge Career. Diaz's smirk widened into a full grin, and Oliver fled before he could see the rest of the confrontation, listening to Pamela's screams with a pale face.

He headed toward the direction of the rendezvous point, wandering there with a dazed expression. When he arrived, he went ahead and sat on the ground, doing his best to block out the distant sounds of cries of a dying young girl.

About three hours later, the cannon finally sounded. Diaz returned to the pack carrying a massive picnic basket filled with sandwiches and fruit. All for the death of that one girl.

Oliver did what he did best, and tried not to think about what that meant.

Laurel

Laurel and her alliance spent almost the entire day traveling across the coast of the island, past the mountains, and towards a jungle that populated the furthest reach of their area of the island. About every two hours or so they stopped for breaks, though there was a brief lull when another cannon sounded sometime around lunch. Everybody froze, and only the sight of the hovercraft appearing on the other side of the arena calmed them down. The tenth death in the arena meant they only had thirteen more to look forward to. Joy.

Eventually, they reached the edge of the jungle and found a curious installation near where they landed: a large, ominous stone temple. It looked ancient, covered in vines, and with nips and chips everywhere. That necessarily didn't mean anything in an arena, where the Gamemakers focused as much on aesthetics as they did on making everything deadly, but it wouldn't be surprising if this was an original feature of the island before the Capitol had gotten its hands on it.

It was almost a shame that it had likely been completely renovated into some kind of death trap. Who knew how much history was seeped into these stones? Laurel's mother, a history buff in what little, little free time she had, must be weeping right now.

"You think there's anything good inside?" Joanna asked through the resounding silence as they all stared at the temple.

"Yes."

"You think it's probably booby-trapped to hell?"

"Yes."

"You think we should leave?"

"Yes. Very much yes."

Nobody argued. They all turned and prepared themselves to leave, but then the sky suddenly began to darken and there was some sort of crackling sound in the air. Looking up, they saw a gathering of black clouds and felt a certain chill in the atmosphere. A storm was brewing.

"That's not a natural storm, is it?" Danny asked dully. Young as he was, even he was well aware of how the entire arena worked according to the whims of the Gamemakers.

Joanna clicked her teeth. "Nothing about this arena is natural," she declared darkly, and Laurel was inclined to agree.

The weather was almost certainly Gamemaker-made, and the message was very clear: the powers that be wanted them to go inside that temple. Go inside, and face whatever horrors awaited there. It seemed they were to be the mid-afternoon entertainment. And if they didn't play ball, then whatever was waiting for them in that storm was going to be infinitely worse.

There wasn't even a debate. They had to go inside. With a sigh, Laurel led the three of them up the rough stone stairs, climbing them with understandable wariness. When they made it to the entrance, however, they found that the doors were already slightly ajar. "Do you think someone's already inside?" Laurel wondered aloud.

Joanna and Danny shrugged, but they also looked apprehensive. In the background, the sound of drops of water falling against the stone echoed. It was raining, and it would soon be pouring. Not inclined to get soaked and risk illness, Laurel pushed against the doors, swinging them open and allowing them a clear path inside.

From the outset, the interior of the temple looked even more worn down than its exterior. As if it had been built long before the arena that surrounded it, long before even the Dark Days. Their steps echoed throughout the hallowed halls, and Laurel felt a different kind of charge in the atmosphere, so much different from the storm outside. As if there were ghosts here, watching their every move, ready to curse them for trespassing on this once-sacred place.

Well, they were being watched, but it wasn't by ghosts. Or at least, not only ghosts. The entire nation was watching them as well, waiting with bated breath to see if this was going to be their tomb.

This time, they didn't have to fashion a torch. There were several hanging on the walls, and Laurel, the tallest of them, pulled one out of its holder. Thankfully, it didn't seem to trigger anything, so now they had something that would allow them to see where they were going without having to waste a match or anything like that. Every resource they had needed to be conserved in case of worst-case scenarios. That's how precious they were.

With that settled, the alliance started their exploration of their new location, probing deeper into the temple. They walked through the front hall and to the beginning of a long corridor. Before they could cross the threshold, however, Laurel stopped them, her instincts flaring up. Before either of her sibling allies could ask her what was wrong, she began slowly swinging the torch around, trying to get better clarity.

Then, she spotted it. "Tripwire," Laurel said, gesturing to the ground. Sure enough, there was a thin, almost invisible wire crossing the corridor, taut and ready to be sprung.

Both de la Vegas blanched. "Slower?" Joanna asked, gripping Danny tightly.

"Slower," Laurel agreed. Together, they carefully stepped over the wire. Once they were certain nothing particularly nasty was about to strike them down, they continued with their trek, every movement even more careful and calculated than before. Laurel made sure to keep her torch up and out, a consistent light that allowed as much of a full view of their surroundings as possible throughout the journey.

That was probably what saved them from falling into another trap, this time a pressure-based one. If Laurel hadn't noticed the slight, suspicious rise of one of the stones that made up the path, Joanna would've been impaled on both sides by a pair of spikes. Her friend had looked unnaturally pale after Laurel had thrown a rock on the trap to see what bullet they had dodged there.

Though painful as it was, at least it would've been instantaneous. Laurel had a feeling the rest were going to be a lot worse.

After about an hour or so of slowly navigating what Laurel was beginning to call the 'Hallway from Hell', they finally arrived at the end of the corridor. They were met with another set of doors, emblazoned with the image of a phoenix and just as ancient-looking as the last. Exchanging wary looks, Laurel sighed. "They forced us in here for a reason. They're probably not going to let us leave until we find what they want us to find," she reasoned.

It was sound logic, and Joanna seemed to agree, as she pushed the doors open right after. Almost immediately, they were beset by an onslaught of bright light, the room lit up with dozens of torches, much like the entrance hall at the front of the building. When their eyes adjusted to the light, they were faced with a wide open space, covered with ornate carvings and statues. They had found the heart of the monastery — or what was closest to it.

Either way, it resembled a place of worship. The brightly painted walls of curious scenes of strangely dressed men and women and mythological creatures, the oddly shaped characters (an ancient language?), shiny, green-colored rocks… it was unlike anything they had ever seen. All three of them couldn't help but be entranced for several moments, stuck in mute awe.

But then, their eyes were drawn to the center of this seemingly wondrous place, to a solitary figure. It took a moment to recognize him, but when they did, they all blinked. It was the boy tribute from District Three. Laurel did her best to recall his name… "Cisco?"

It was more of a question than anything else. But her voice echoed throughout the room and caught the attention of the other tribute. Cisco had presented a haggard form, his back slouching with heavy bags under his drooping eyes. Truth be told, he had looked about ready to keel over. But Laurel had woken him up, and when he caught sight of them, his expression was one of panic.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, half-hysterical. "Get out of here! This place is booby-trapped!"

That was startling to hear, if not exactly surprising. Everyone froze at those words, staring, and Cisco gritted his teeth. To prove his point, he slowly crouched down, picked up a small rock, and threw it on the tiled flooring surrounding him. The minute the rock hit the surface, a trap door in the ceiling snapped open and dropped a cadre of snakes. Laurel and Joanna both shrieked.

Before the snake could slither over and attack them, however, Cisco picked up another rock and triggered another trap. This one opened a hidden pit in the ground, one filled with what looked like lava of all things. The snakes fell into the lava immediately, burning up in the heat. Joanna nearly collapsed in relief, clutching Danny to her, while Laurel breathed out in gratitude.

"See!" Cisco shouted, waving his arms in a shooing motion. "Go!"

Laurel hesitated. One look at Joanna and Danny showed that they were about to flee, but she was of a different mind. "What about you?" she asked.

The dark-haired boy winced and looked away. He didn't answer back, and in that moment Laurel knew he had no intention of trying to leave. "Don't you want to escape?"

"I do," Cisco admitted, and his awful mood was so removed from the jovial boy from the interviews. It was sad to see. "But there's no point. The moment these traps were activated, I was dead. And while I'm not courageous enough to go ahead and trigger one of them and get it over with, I'm not stupid either. Eventually, I'll collapse or slip, and that'll be the end of me."

The resignation in his voice was horrible. Laurel bit her bottom lip, a war now raging in her head. Already, she could hear everyone in her life telling her not to do it. It was an unnecessary risk, in an already extremely risky situation. Cisco wasn't even her ally, not like Joanna and Danny were. He was technically an enemy, and his impending death was good for her. It was one more kill she didn't have to make, and another step closer to home — to Uncle Ted and Sandra, to her parents, to Sara.

By all accounts, she should just leave, and leave him to his fate.

She should… and yet she couldn't. No matter how hard Laurel tried to force her feet to move, she couldn't bring herself to go. She could hear Joanna already calling for her, her two allies already at the door, but it was like a distant ring in Laurel's ears. With a sigh, the blonde silently handed the torch to Joanna, took off her pack, handed it to Danny, and began stretching her arms and legs. "Is there a safe path through the traps?" she asked Cisco, her voice echoing.

Cisco blinked, his mouth dropping slightly. He was a smart one, being from District Three and all, so he had probably figured out what she intended to do. Joanna and Danny, who were urgently asking her what she was doing, still had no idea. He cleared his throat and gestured to one of the tiles. "The ones with phoenixes painted on them are safe," he explained. "They lead to that rope over there, which you'll need to cross those two tiles because they're too far apart from each other to jump. That's why I haven't escaped yet — my legs are too short to make the jump on their own, and I don't have the athleticism to jump high enough to grab the rope and swing to the other side."

Laurel nodded. Seemed reasonable enough — Cisco was rather short for his age, and District Three tributes were famed for their intelligence, not for their physical capabilities. If Cisco said he couldn't make it on his own, he probably wasn't lying.

Her, on the other hand… "Get ready," Laurel told him from her side of the room and then pounced.

There were gasps from behind her but she dutifully ignored them, focusing instead on making her way to Cisco. A quick flicker of her eyes around the room allowed her to get a general idea of which path to take, and Laurel picked up a rhythm as she jumped from phoenix tile to phoenix tile, gradually picking up speed. About a dozen hops and skips later, she had made it to the rope Cisco pointed out and quickly reached out to grab it.

"Careful," Cisco warned her, though with a hint of shock in his voice. He was every bit as surprised as the de la Vegas were, and Laurel paid his surprise as much mind as she did theirs. That was, to say, none at all.

She swung to the other side in a graceful arc, landing on the next phoenix tile without so much as a stumble. After taking another breath, Laurel turned to Cisco and gestured him forward. He blinked, but at her silent, encouraging look, nodded. With that, he tentatively jumped to the phoenix tile nearest to him and made his way to her.

Once he was close enough, Laurel took his hand and with one smooth movement, switched places with him. A stunned Cisco had barely any time to react as she all but shoved the end of the rope into his hands. By the time he was finally gathering his senses, Laurel already had her arms around his waist and he was guiding him backward, getting ready to push. "Wait, what are you—"

"This is the only way to get you enough force to swing to the other side," Laurel calmly cut him off before he could start protesting. "Now, get ready."

He grimaced but didn't say anything else, instead finally playing along. Laurel started a count, and at three, Cisco ran while she pushed. He swung far less gracefully than Laurel had and there was a scary moment where it looked like he'd be stuck dangling from the rope instead, but a bit of kicking got him on the right side long enough to land on the correct tile. There was an expression of disbelief on Cisco's face when he realized he had regained his shot at winning in the Games, and it took him a moment to remember to swing the rope back to Laurel and the sense to jump to another tile so she had free room to swing.

When they returned to the front of the room, where the de la Vegas had been watching the two other tributes in complete rapture, a ragged cheer broke out. Cisco, looking more alive now than when they first saw him, slammed into Laurel with a grateful embrace. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he chanted.

Laurel smiled and patted his back. "It was no problem."

And that was when the temple started shaking.

It seemed the Gamemakers weren't ready to let the fun end just yet and wanted to squeeze one last bit of entertainment out of all of them. They only had a moment to rejoice in Laurel and Cisco's accomplishment before stones began falling from the ceiling. As the shaking grew worse, their next step was clear — to get out of this temple as soon as possible and avoid certain death.

They escaped through the open doors and ran down the corridors, Joanna leading the way this time since she was the one carrying the torch. All around them, more and more of the stone walls fell apart, revealing many of the hidden traps that they had managed to evade during their trek through the monastery. Then, a large crashing sound reached their ears, the entire building rumbling and trembling at some sort of powerful force.

Laurel craned her neck around to see what it was, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. Behind them, a giant boulder was rolling after them, threatening to crush them to death. What the fuck?

"Faster!" she hissed. "Faster!"

They didn't bother asking her what was wrong, they just did what she said. Which was great, because it meant not getting crushed by the boulder, but it was also an issue because they were too concerned with running to pay attention to any of the traps they had initially avoided the first time around. Laurel had to stay alert the entire time, ordering her allies to jump to avoid trip wires and other nasty pits, to duck under swinging axes and dropping spikes.

Luckily, they had the foresight to leave the doors at the end of the corridor, so that meant they didn't have to pull them open when they finally got back to the entrance hall. Never before had a light at the end of a tunnel looked so wonderful.

Crossing the entrance hall in one last sprint, Laurel and Joanna quickly pulled the entrance doors to the temple open to let Danny and Cisco through. They quickly followed, and the four tributes jumped off the crumbling steps just as the once-grand and ancient installation collapsed into rubble.

When the dust cleared, they were all alive. Covered in scrapes, cuts, and bruises, dripping in mud thanks to the wet ground from the storm, but alive. And that, truthfully, was all that mattered.

The skies were clear, the winds and the rain long gone. The Gamemakers were satisfied, at least for now. Slowly, all four tributes got back to their feet and turned to stare at the pile of rubble in dazed disbelief.

"So," Cisco said, once the silence settled. "Are you guys up for another ally?"

Laurel couldn't help it — she laughed.

Sorry for the late update. Been a bit busy this week reading a lot of webtoons and have been neglecting proofreading this chapter.

Hoped you enjoy this one! My little homage to Indiana Jones and a look at Oliver's decaying faith in the Games. And of course, Cisco! Was waiting to include him, and boy are we going to have a lot of fun with him!

Next Chapter: A confrontation.