Author's Note

I do not own The Hunger Games.

Vivaldi Perlman, 16

He didn't know what made him do it. Whatever had made him play the hero once before, he supposed, a sudden sense of bravery. He stepped in front of Zephyr, pushed the smaller boy down, and prepared to take an arrow to the heart.

The arena flickered, pixelated, and disappeared around him.

Something was crackling, crackling, and oh god he was gonna die and be like those faces in the sky; he must have died in the arena–

Then he was falling, falling, and one of his ankles cracked terribly because it wasn't meant to bend that way.

He landed flat on his front on a cold floor.

A small hand covered his mouth. "Don't scream."

He still wanted to scream – but then the hand was removed and his brain started working and he raised his head to look up.

"Phoenix?" he whispered. He must be dead then. She was dead too, and they were here, wherever here was–

"Don't be too loud," she whispered.

"Where are we?" he asked, reaching back to prise his foot free of whatever was still holding him. A black boot, clamped closed around his ankle. Vivaldi saw stars as he pulled on his leg, struggling to free it.

Phoenix frowned, scuttling back to help him release it. "The pod room in the Game hall."

Vivaldi rubbed his eyes and looked around himself. "Then I'm not dead?"

Phoenix laughed. "No, Vivaldi, you're not dead. I pulled your emergency release."

"Oh." He blinked the stars from his eyes, working his foot in a circle. It made an awful cracking noise and sent waves of pain crashing through him. "I think my ankle's broken."

"Can you walk?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, you better try, because I need your help."

Ares Gilmore, 15

Luminescence returned to tell them that the cornucopia was safe, as it had been the last time Ares and Iridescent were here – only yesterday? It felt like longer – and so they followed him back to the great golden horn. Many of the supplies were still here, though Ares did notice it looked like less than when they'd visited before. Someone else must have been here and taken some. He didn't resent them for that, it was the smart thing to do.

Iridescence and Luminescence jumped in without a second thought to dig through the piles of supplies for rope and wire and weights, anything they could make traps with. Ares positioned himself at the mouth of the great golden horn to stand guard. It still felt strange, not to need to keep his eyes on Iridescence every moment of the day now that Luminescence could bear some of that burden.

"So, how well do you know those two?" asked Andreas.

"What?"

"Little Miss and Mr Clone."

Ares flinched at that description. Apollo and Artemis had never looked quite as similar as the Sterlings, but they'd been teased often enough for him to hear it.

"How well do you know them?" asked Andreas again.

Ares shrugged. "Well enough."

They'd been enemies, not friends, before now, but he'd seen enough of them. And more of Iridescence over the last in-Game week. She had to be the strongest person Ares had ever known. Artemis had always prided herself on her strength and abilities, but Iridescence had managed to both play The Game and stay alive so far in her condition. It really was incredible. They just needed one more death and she'd be in the top twelve. Three more, and she'd be in the top eight.

"You're not worried at all?" asked Andreas.

Ares shrugged. "Why would I be?"

After everything, there had to be some trust between them. The Sterlings had been their competitors, but never bad people.

"I thought you three were some kind of ancient enemies or something."

Ares managed a smile. "Only while it was fun. We got serious once people started actually getting hurt."

"Do they know that?"

Ares sighed. "What are you getting at, Andreas?"

Andreas shrugged. "Nothing, if you're not worried about it. I'm just wondering who's going to be the first to go once this little alliance starts to crack."

Marcellina Arnoult, 16

The four of them had built a small camp as the afternoon drew on, though the air remained tense between them. None of them really trusted the District boy, Emeria still didn't trust Zephyr, and Marcellina just didn't know what to do.

She wished Calpurnia were still here. Calpurnia might have known what to do.

"I can leave if you want me to leave," said the District boy at last, staring into their small fire. He'd said the girls could find them if they wanted to find them, so it didn't matter if they lit a fire or not. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Yes," said Emeria.

"No," said Zephyr.

They all looked at Marcellina.

Marcellina tried to think. What would Calpurnia have said? She would have agreed with Emeria, wouldn't she? Because this boy was a nasty, smelly, District barbarian.

Except Marcellina didn't know if that was true.

She looked between the three of them, trying to judge the situation. Zephyr looked almost pleading. Emeria looked close to angry.

"I–" she said.

A scream cut through the air.

The four of them leapt up. Marcellina clutched her knives.

And the scream became a voice.

"Help! Help me!"

And Marcellina recognised the voice.

Luminita.

She had been her ally from before she entered the arena, she'd spent most of The Game with her, until they were separated.

And now she was screaming.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Marcellina was frozen with indecision.

Thorin wasn't.

He sprang to his feet. "I'll make the decision for you and leave," he said, before taking off at a sprint in the direction of Luminita's voice.

Marcellina hesitated a moment longer and then followed.

Etheria Arquette, 17

The stench of smoke from the burning meadow never lessened, and Iridescence dug out cloths that they could tie around their heads to ease the pressure slightly. Even still, Etheria developed a pounding headache, the rhythm thumping against her skull.

The cornucopia was still filled with plenty of supplies they could build traps with, and they spent the afternoon setting them around the cornucopia. If those District kids did come back here, they'd be in for a nasty surprise.

By the time they were finished, Etheria was exhausted. She collapsed against the side of the cornucopia and laid her hands in her lap.

"I know we wanted to stay here for the night, but maybe we should move away from all this smoke," Luminescence said hesitantly.

Iridescence shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Ares and I could–"

Iridescence raised her hand. "No, Luminescence. I'm staying here. I need to sleep."

Ares nodded. "She's right. And this should be as safe as we'll get it for the night. We're surrounded by traps."

Luminescence looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately gave in. "Alright. We stay here for tonight. Then tomorrow we go hunting."

And all Etheria could do was wonder now how long it would be before they left her.

Or she became prey.

But she wanted to stay with people, and if they were all going to die anyway…

Maximillian Marcus Badondé, 18

All it would take was one good shot, but his handcrafted arrows had proven to be almost useless. Most had spun wildly off target, and two had snapped entirely.

"Arrows please," he muttered again, but no sponsor gifts had materialised so far.

Which meant he had to change tactics.

He fired the arrow in his hand and gripped the bow by the shaft, hefting it like a bludgeon.

There was more than one way of killing someone.