The 200th Annual Hunger Games - The Ultimate Games

The Ultimate Games - Day 5 (Morning)

Rudy was dead.

Valentina ripped free from my grip, coughing loudly and massaging her throat, then picked up her weapon and fled into the trees.

I didn't go after her.

I rolled onto my side, tears rolling down my face. Rudy's corpse laid a few metres away, still. Cold. I laid there for what seemed like hours, staring at my best friend.

He was gone. He was dead.

I was alone.

Ali Richardson POV

"It's day 5," Thomas said slowly.

"Yes."

An awkward silence descended upon us.

"We said that we would split in the morning of Day 5."

"We did."

I gnawed on my bottom lip. Daphne looked up at me, her gaze sad.

"Is this goodbye?" Phillip asked. Thomas remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Yea. We have to split sooner or later."

Phillip and Daphne stood up, lugging their packs onto their backs. Daphne shivered as a cold gust blew through the trees, goosebumps standing up on her arms. I stood up and took a step forward.

"Bye," I murmured, "Good luck."

"You too," Phillip said. Daphne stepped forward and gave me a hug, resting her chin on my shoulder, and I returned the hug. I stood there for a moment, just enjoying the basic human company.

"It's almost over," I murmured, "I can't believe it's almost over."

"Good luck," Daphne hugged me tighter, "May the odds be ever in your favour."

This time it wasn't a joke. This time, we were deadly serious. This was the end. Within the next few hours we'd either be safe in the Capitol, or dead. This was go time.

Daphne and I released one another and stepped back. Phillip and Thomas exchanged an awkward handshake, with mutters of "good luck" and "see you on the other side, man" before stepping back too. I stood next to Thomas, letting out a deep breath.

"Take care of yourselves," Phillip said, shooting us a small smile. I nodded, tightening my grip on my backpack straps, then watched as Phillip and Daphne turned away and, with a final over-the-shoulder glance, disappeared into the trees.

Arwin Yates POV

I was still in shock. I still couldn't believe it.

Fern murdered Benji. She killed him.

I hated her.

I trudged through the trees, goosebumps racing up and down my arms as a cold gust whistled through the leaves. I rubbed my cheeks fervently, attempting to restore some warmth in my face. It didn't help much.

I began to wonder for a moment. What would have happened if, way back at the District 3 reapings, I had never volunteered for Mia. I wouldn't be here. I would be at home. Maybe Mia would have allied with Fern and Benji.

Or maybe she would have died on the first day. You can only go so far with a crippled leg. I wondered who she would have allied with. Would Benji still be alive now? Would Shane and Eve still be alive now? What would have changed?

No, I didn't regret volunteering. But I just wished these games never existed. Then everyone would be alive, and I'd be at home, and everything would be OK.