Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

Phoenix Sterling, 13

The alarm was still blaring, ringing out against her skull. Phoenix groaned, grasping at the door of her pod in search of a release. There must be one; there had to be one. Safety precautions said they needed one.

Her hands were still stiff and aching, and her body ached. Her siblings had never said anything about this part of The Game. She flexed her fingers, working some feeling back into them before returning to feeling around her pod. She was sure there had been blue light in here when she got in, but now it was pitch black. Phoenix blinked, hoping her eyes just needed to adjust. It didn't help.

She muttered a curse that her mom would have scolded her for and continued groping uselessly around her pod. With a cold horror, she realised the emergency release might have been supposed to open the door to her pod and failed to.

Phoenix went to bang her hands against the inside of her pod and then froze and brought them down on top of the gloves.

She couldn't do that. The people outside her pod probably weren't friends.

"Focus," she told herself.

If the emergency release was meant to open the door, she should try that first, she decided. She felt down for it again, pulling it up against the awful resistance. She pushed it down – and the door hissed.

It didn't swing open, maybe something had broken in her pod and stopped that, but it did separate the tiniest crack from the rest of her pod. Phoenix worked her fingers into that crack and prised the door open. Leaning forward, she peered through the new gap. The aisle outside looked empty. She widened it a little more, until it was big enough for her to slither through.

Her legs buckled beneath her upon her losing the support of her pod, and she landed awkwardly on her hands and knees. She grunted at the impact and then clamped her mouth closed. Fear choked her at the thought someone might have heard her, but no one came looking.

A little more carefully this time, she stumbled to her feet. She hurt all over, stiff, numb, and aching. Warily, she took a look around herself. The other pods were illuminated by a neon blue light, with glowing strips running around the edges and framing the windows.

Her pod was dark.

Phoenix paused, listening for any sound of life around her. She heard nothing.

She padded to the next pod over and pushed herself up on her toes.

She wished she hadn't.

Phoenix turned and vomited, bringing up all the fruit her siblings had fed her earlier in the afternoon.

She steadied herself against the pod and drew in a deep breath to ground herself.

Radiance was dead.

Luminescence and Iridescence weren't.

Vivaldi wasn't.

Many other players weren't.

She had to save them.

She looked the pod over, looking for some sign of an external release. It didn't need a key, but she couldn't see a handle or lever.

Phoenix glanced to either end of the aisle in the hopes that there might be an obvious shut-off. She found nothing.

But there had to be an emergency shut-off somewhere.

Slowly, quietly, she crept to the end of the aisle. There, she found there was a large screen set into the wall, displaying different parts of The Game. They were running a little fast in her opinion, but thinking of the few livestreams Radiance had shown her, those had all been the same. The Game just ran quickly, like a real video game. A list down the right side showed who was still alive, and she smiled at Vivaldi's name. The screen flickered to show him with two boys she didn't recognise. New allies? She frowned. Had he replaced her that quickly?

And then–

The stream slowed to a normal playrate as a fight started, four girls arriving to surround them. Phoenix held her breath as the seven fought.

Vivaldi needed help.

She glanced around the hall, scanning the pods. They were all numbered. What number was Vivaldi? Towards the beginning; she vaguely remembered him telling her he'd got here early during the night they spent just talking about their lives. She hurried to the pod labelled one a one, braced herself, and peered inside.

…

No.

She turned to pod two, glancing back at the viewing screen. Vivaldi looked to be trying to protect the smaller boy from a girl with a bow.

Phoenix peered through the window.

Her heart soared.

The girl drew back her arrow.

Phoenix scrabbled against the polished door. No release. But she could force her fingers through the rubber seal if she fought the pain. The pod hissed, letting out a puff of cold air. She wrenched it open, forgetting to be careful, and wrenched Vivaldi's emergency release up.

Luminita Summerfield, 17

The boy chased after her, half-crazed, firing off more half-made arrows. Luminita was glad for their not fully effective form. If they were proper sturdy arrows, she'd almost certainly be dead by now.

But how did she lose him?

Or–

How did she kill him?

She'd lost her knife… but Luminita didn't want to die.

And even more, she didn't want to go down to this boy spitting up black liquid and screaming incoherently at her.

Except…

"I won't play your games!" she screamed.

That was what this was, wasn't it? They expected her to kill this boy as part of this twisted revenge.

And she had already decided she'd do no such thing.

Which meant she had to outrun him.

She glanced around the graveyard. Somewhere to hide? But then this boy was an actual player, not a mutt. He might not be stupid enough to hide from.

But if she couldn't kill him and couldn't outrun him…

She caught a snatch of movement from elsewhere, somewhere to her left. Other players, or mutts?

"I'll have you dead!" shouted the boy behind her.

It didn't matter. Whatever it was, if this boy could be forced to turn his attention to something else, anything else, it was worth the try.

Luminita changed direction and ran for that movement. Her feet pounded against the ground. She would die here. Sorcha had always been the athletic one, the social one, the one their parents had expected to succeed.

Sorcha was dead.

And what did that mean for Luminita?

How was she meant to survive when Sorcha hadn't?

And then she was closing in on the two girls, one holding a sword and the other an axe.

Axe-girl hefted it. "See, I told you! They really are coming to us!"

"In-In-fec-ted," Luminita gasped, skidding to the right to get around them.

"What?"

"Infected!" she cried again, looping around them. Mentally, she encouraged the boy chasing her to change focus, to decide on these girls. He did seem to be hesitating, the bow wavering in his hand.

The girl with the axe grinned. "Oh, I see." She laughed. "Well, I'm sorry to inform you, Greenie, but he won't turn on us. So you better get back to running." She gave her a slight wave. "Go on."

Luminita looked between her and the boy, debating whether they were telling the truth.

She didn't look like she was joking.

Luminita swallowed her fear and continued to run.

Behind her, the boy's footfalls were loud.

Zephyr Almon, 13

He missed Celeste more than ever, if only because having her as an ally made things easy. He knew he could trust her, and she knew who else could be trusted. Together they had been safe.

(that, and she might know why he kept getting flashes of blue light and couldn't warm up no matter how hard he tried)

The world without her was no longer safe.

The District boy, who told them his real name was Enki but he'd prefer to be called Thorin, had stayed with them. Emeria kept shooting him uncomfortable looks and had kept a knife in hand, but Marcellina was happily chatting away to him about nothing in particular.

Zephyr curled his fingers into the sleeves of his jumpsuit. He wasn't sure if any of them had a plan anymore, and he was pretty sure Emeria still wanted him dead. If he split now–

What would he do?

An echoing boom ripped across the arena, and black smoke erupted into the air. For a split moment Zephyr was somewhere else and there was air as cold as ice in his lungs, the taste of smoke in his mouth–

Marcellina froze. "What was that?"

Thorin frowned. "They must have taken out another part of the arena."

"Isn't there a lot of us still left for that?" asked Emeria.

"Possibly, but it's been seven in-Game days. They could be running out of time on the outside." Thorin gave them an abashed smile and blushed pink. "We, ah, we were meant to be a little more successful at killing you guys off."

Zephyr flinched, huddling into himself. "That's… not comforting."

"So they what, make the arena smaller so it's easier for you lot to hunt us down?" asked Emeria.

Thorin shrugged. "And push you guys closer together. Remember you can kill each other too."

Zephyr remembered.

He remembered a boy with blue hair dragging Emeria's partner from a cliff face and the two dying at the bottom.

He remembered Calpurnia's dying screams.

He remembered Celeste.

"Then we hold out," Zephyr said, gazing up at the smoke as it rose into the air. "We hold out, and the Peacekeepers will stop the hijackers, and we can get out alive."

And Celeste would still be dead.

Luminescence Sterling, 17

The gold gleam of the cornucopia gleamed ahead of them. Luminescence held an arm out to keep Iridescence beyond it. She sighed. "I can look after myself." She held up her bow. "I have the long range weapon, remember?"

"I know, but…" Luminescence shook his head. "Look, I– I just think it would be best if you wait here. Andreas and I will go ahead and scout out the cornucopia. If that boy with his bow is still there, we'll– think of something."

"Maybe I should come–" Ares suggested.

Luminescence shook his head, and this time Iridescence went along with it.

"No." She clutched at his wrist. "Stay with me."

So Ares and Etheria stayed back with Iridescence while Luminescence followed the track he had taken only the day before with Andreas.

"You really trust that kid with your sister?" asked Andreas.

Luminescence sighed. They had spent years fighting with the Gilmores (and he watched artemis die). He knew a little of Ares's personality, the things he held important. He also knew he'd spent most of this Game keeping Iridescence safe.

"I do," he replied.

Andreas snorted. "And what happens when a few more players get knocked out? An alliance this size isn't feasible, you know it isn't."

That was true. Luminescence had been trying to think of a way round it. He had to be with Iridescence, but then who else did they keep? Iridescence would want Ares, but Etheria had been steadfast throughout the Game.

How did one make that kind of decision?

"We'll deal with that when we come to it," he said.

They slowed as they neared the cornucopia, edging towards it. Luminescence scanned any vantage points it and the surrounding area might have, but he couldn't see any sign of the boy with the bow.

"I don't see him," he muttered.

"I don't like the idea of taking chances."

"I've got nothing left to stop me." Luminescence stepped out into the glade. He half expected to immediately be hit by an arrow, but it never came. Relieved, he hurried to the cornucopia, glanced inside, and then returned to Andreas.

"Looks like he's gone."

"So are the player-mutt things," Andreas said, indicating bloodstains in the glass.

Luminescence grimaced. "Good. I wouldn't want to see them here. Come on, let's go fetch the others."