"I really want to save him," Rick muttered. "I'm getting calls from frantic sponsors. He's really a favourite, isn't he? Dorkiness and looks pay off, I guess."

"Fine, whatever," President Clair rolled her eyes. "That boy's no trouble. The scorpion wasn't even meant for him."

Rick pressed the button to let the parachute through.

◼▲◼

The Careers gathered around their spasming teammate. Holding in her panic, Piper slapped his face, "Percy, can you hear me?" The only reaction he gave was irregular breathing. She could see his pupils rolling around wildly under his eyelids.

"You've got to be kidding me," Bryce groaned at the sky. "Now we're down another swordsman!"

"Help him!" she snapped. "He's the one reeling in all the sponsors, remember?"

That got his attention. Bryce bent down, "Okay, uh, I could chop off his hand?"

Piper nearly slapped him, then actually considered his words. But Percy's arm was twitching and threaded with bulging green veins. Poison was almost always fast-acting in the arena, and it was way too late to just slice off a limb. Besides, a quick death from poison was a lot better than risking a slow death from blood loss.

"Keep his hand below his heart," Clarisse added, more helpfully. "So the venom circulates slower."

Piper propped him against her backpack and adjusted him, though at this point she knew it was hopeless. She didn't even know why Clarisse bothered to suggest something.

They didn't know how else to help. She checked his pulse, which was beating extremely fast. She sat back grimly, "There's nothing we can do." She wondered if she should say a few parting words, but Careers never did that and she didn't know him very well.

Bryce reached for Percy's belt, "I call first dibs on his sword!"

"No way!" Clarisse snapped, elbowing him. "Since when did you use swords? Let me have it!"

Piper tiredly watched them argue, not noticing the silver parachute until it fell past her face. She grabbed it. Inside was a slim box containing a syringe with clear fluid.

"Guys, move!" She shoved Bryce out of the way and inserted the needle into Percy's arm, pressing down on the plunger.

She pulled out the syringe, and they watched.

It took a minute for Percy's breathing to even out, and his skin slowly went back to its normal colour. Bryce made a noise of disbelief, "He got an antidote? No one in the previous twenty-three Games ever survived being poisoned. This is favouritism."

Piper rolled her eyes, "The sponsorships are based on favouritism."

It was also the main reason they stuck together. Tributes got significantly more sponsors as a group than apart, and no one wanted to leave only to find out they weren't the one who'd won the sponsors over.

And so far things were grim. The Games usually lasted two weeks, and they weren't even halfway through. Already their supplies were destroyed, two of them had been killed on the first day, and Percy just got poisoned.

Percy turned over, drool going down one side of his mouth.

Bryce sat down heavily, chin in his hand, "Well, I guess it's a bad move to kill dear lovable Perseus."

◼▲◼

Will and Calypso did not agree on their next move.

Calypso wanted to stay in the oasis, where nothing had harmed them yet, but Will was determined to go find Nico.

"The sky is completely clear," he argued, "that means no rain. No rain, no quicksand."

"Your arm is infected," she scowled, gesturing at it. "Look at it. It's gross and making you weak. It might even kill you. Do you really want to go off into the forest? Sure, it'll be better for your sunburn, but there are only more dangers there."

He grimaced, knowing she was right. "He's all alone. And if I'm right in thinking he hasn't gotten water this whole time...this is his last day."

"Back to the forest," she muttered, "I nearly died in there. Multiple times."

"You nearly died in the desert," he pointed out. "And by sand, of all things." At this, she glared at him, but he ignored her, "The Capitol can't keep sending mutts after you forever. The forest is our domain, Calypso. District 7 is lumber."

"Fine, we'll go," she decided, "you probably would have gone without me anyway. I'm simply saying that it's a bad idea. There's a ton of mutts and other tributes, and our chances of finding him are extremely slim. You understand that, right?"

"Yeah, but I'll take those chances." He hesitated, "And you don't have to come with me. I can't deny that we might be in the safest part of the arena."

Calypso shrugged, "I already told you I have no plans of winning. I just don't like how the Capitol turned my forests against me by sucking out their water and replacing it with mutated animals."

"We've got water," he said. "That gives us a huge advantage there already."

"I already said I'm coming," she rolled her eyes. "Now let's pack up so we can find Nico. Maybe even Leo."

Will got to work collecting their food — mostly fish, but also a few roots and nuts — in a makeshift bag stitched from the fabric of the waterproof tent.

Calypso had quickly sewed two more waterskins from the tent and filled them. She handed one to him, then checked that the knife she'd picked up in the rainforest was secure at her belt, and they set off.

They made it to the forest as the sky began to signal the evening. Will carefully stepped around the pointy rocks on the ground as they walked, ignoring the slight dizziness he felt at his injury. "Leo has an ally, doesn't he?" he asked, mostly to distract himself.

His companion had been occupied with glaring at the space in front of her, and she snapped out of it to respond, "Yeah, the boy from 6." Her face was impassive, "I really doubt he's in more danger than Nico, and not only because he has a friend. I'm pretty sure the president likes him. Impressed by his force field —"

She cut herself off with a startled yelp. He whipped his head around and saw that she was bent down and swearing vehemently.

"What happened?" he asked frantically. "Did you twist something? Oh..."

Her foot had fallen into a hole in the ground. "This goddamn forest," she snarled irritatedly, and she proceeded to flip off the nearest tree.

Will backed up so she had room to yank herself out, but it wasn't working. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but I don't think I broke anything. It's just really stuck —" she yanked again to no avail. "I hate this. It feels like it freaking closed on me and I can't even move. I really hope there's no animal in there."

He knelt down and started trying to dig at the earth, but it was unnaturally hard. Someone really didn't want Calypso to survive.

And because things couldn't get any worse, they heard a sinister buzzing from above. In District 7, that was never a good sound. He looked up, which only confirmed his fears.

On a long branch just seven feet above their heads, was a nest of active tracker jackers, wasps that would chase and sting you to death. And they were getting more agitated by the second as they slowly noticed the tributes.

◼▲◼

It was the early evening of day 5. Travis had been picking berries half a mile from the tree when he met a cow. He vaguely recalled the name of the animal from school. They produced milk, he remembered. They ate grass and were generally harmless.

But Travis didn't remember them being grey. It was sniffing at the ground, but everywhere it went, the flowers wilted and died.

Travis backed off slowly. Poisonous breath? The Gamemakers were getting creative.

The grass was too dry and brittle, so every footstep of his sent up a loud crunch. The animal looked up, and Travis quickly averted his stare so he wouldn't challenge it by accident.

He'd gotten the barest glimpse of its eyes, but it was enough to make his stomach twist and threaten to eject all its contents.

Was its gaze poisonous too?

The thing took a step forward, and Travis turned slowly and walked sideways from it, keeping it in sight of his peripheral vision.

It growled loudly and bounded towards him.

Travis swore and took off running, weaving around trees and turning frequent corners to slow it down.

The tree where he and Leo were camped was easy to climb and he could make it up to safety in no time flat, but he didn't want to lead it there. Travis took out the knife he'd stolen from the Career and continued to sprint in complicated circles, away from the shelter.

The cow wailed with outrage. It didn't give any sign of tiring, but Travis was. His muscles were still sore from evading the Careers, and every time his feet hit the dirt it felt like his legs were going to collapse at any second.

If outrunning it wouldn't work, he needed a Plan B.

He came to a stop in front of a large tree, taking a deep breath as he did so to calm himself down. He'd seen tributes do something similar in previous Games, and he hoped the Gamemakers hadn't tried creating a mutt that was immune to the trick.

The cow raced straight for him, and his hands shook as he fought the urge to run immediately.

He kept his eyes focused on the ground to avoid getting sick, which only made it worse because he had to rely on sound to gauge when to move. The stench got fouler and stronger, the sound of hooves got louder, and the urge to escape became so overwhelming that his every nerve begged him to leave.

Finally he ripped himself away, and a mass of grey fur slammed into the bark. He heard a deep bellow of pain and scuffling.

Travis had originally planned to stab it while it was dazed, but it was shaking and lashing out so much that he didn't risk it. So he ran.

He didn't dare to turn back and look, even when the roars got so loud they seemed to be resonating in his stomach.

When he was sure the cow was far enough behind and not following, he slowed down and made his way back to Leo's tree, checking his snares on the way.

He hadn't found anything, and that stressed him out. Food was running dangerously low, and so was water. He didn't want to go back to where he'd met the cow, but...

Leo was still asleep. Travis settled himself near him, rested for a half hour, then took a look at Leo's leg. It was noticeably better. He couldn't see the bone anymore, but he really doubted it'd healed enough for him to walk.

He thought back to the destruction of the acid rain. The affected area had been left a blackened land of death. If it started again, Travis needed to be able to leave. A second wave would definitely go far past where they were now.

And if a mutt managed to get up the tree...

"Leo," Travis whispered. "Leo."

He didn't react.

Travis's mind went into overdrive. He had to do it quickly. Maybe if he was fast enough, Connor would miss it. He'd be at work right now, wouldn't he? As for his parents...he hoped they were busy.

He swung himself up to a better position, trying to calm his heartbeat, which had started up again. His hand shot out and shoved Leo out of the tree.

With a surprised shriek, the boy from 3 flipped off the branch and hit another before slamming into the dirt. A bone snapped and he rolled onto his side, groaning loudly. "Travis — my arm —"

Travis climbed down and stood over him, the knife clasped conspicuously by his side. He didn't want Leo to see. He didn't want anyone to see it, including himself.

Leo's blood was seeping through the bandages, staining them bright red. He curled himself up and clutched his arm, gasping, "Travis — did you —"

Travis bent down, knife raised.

"NO!" Leo hollered, propelling himself backwards. His bad leg flopped around weakly and sweat beaded over his bleeding forehead. "Please...don't."

"Let me do it quickly," Travis followed him, and his voice caught. "Leo."

"Travis —" he panted. "Travis, I don't want to die."

"Neither do I," he whispered, his hand shaking. "I want to see my little brother again. You...you don't have anyone to go back to. I do. My chances are crushed if I'm with you, don't you get that?"

Leo clutched his arm, his face twisted with agony and despair, "You can't just — make this kind of — decision — for someone else!"

"I know!" he snapped. Why was he making this so hard? "But the Games are the Games. Only one person can live and we can't escape that."

"Every problem has a fix."

He laughed bitterly. "That's what the rebels thought until the Capitol killed them and created the Hunger Games. I'm sorry, Leo."

Leo looked extremely angry, and nobody could blame him. "You didn't have to kill me. You could've just left me!"

Travis faltered, and the guilt got too close to catching up. "You wouldn't have made it on your own."

"And you had to thin the competition," he growled, fierce accusation in his eyes.

"Yeah," Travis muttered. His thoughts were whirling, but he desperately pushed them aside. It was far too late to undo what he'd done, and he needed to end it now. "I'm sorry."

"Did you plan this from the beginning? When we — when we first met in the Training Center?"

"Yes," he admitted, "but I changed my mind. I got delusioned into thinking we could do this together. Then you got hurt...and..."

Leo collapsed onto his back, still breathing hard from the pain. "I can't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He was hyper-aware of how many times he'd said it. The words felt like sand in his mouth. Maybe if he let them out enough his throat would stop feeling so dry.

Travis could feel Connor's ring on his finger, and it made the knife seem heavier in his hand. His promise came back to him, that he would do anything to win.

I'm coming back to you Connor. Bet on it.

Leo had his eyes closed in surrender, so he plunged the knife into his heart. In a few seconds, the cannon boomed, and Travis was officially a murderer.