Nothing Personal

The Grand Finale - 2

Skyler knew she wouldn't have to look for whoever was left. The Gamemakers would do something to drive them together. She headed for the Cornucopia anyway, not wanting to give the Gamemakers any reason to prod her.

"You're still here," the jabberjay whispered, and this time it was her parents and Vintage saying it too, willing her on, not daring to watch in case the worst happened. She wished that she could turn away too.

At least they knew who she was up against. She didn't and it was like torture. Was it Megan, the sharp, harsh girl who looked like she'd kill you without batting an eyelid? Sebastian, who was probably more intelligent than the rest of them put together, who she'd missed earlier? Or was it Vedran, who she knew nothing about apart from that she'd almost fallen asleep during his interview. Then again, she'd almost fallen asleep during her own interview. Which two of them were dead since she’d seen the faces in the sky?

Her best bet was probably to get them from a distance, whoever it was. That was where she had the advantage, in the bow and arrow. Then she wouldn't have to get too close to them...

Pataya had cried out to be killed, when she'd hit her. Daisuke had done that for her, but there was nobody around to do that for her now. Daisuke was dead. So was Oak, Grace, Meridan, Fiona, Rufus. People like her, who wouldn't have killed. And she was the one left.

She tried to reassure herself. You're here. You're here, so it must be possible for you to win. To live. There's only one other person out there, and they're probably feeling the same.

But then she couldn't kill them, could she?

But they would kill her, surely. It was impossible that they hadn't already killed. And she had to stay alive, to get back to her family. To get back to District Eleven, where death was a fact of life and everything was damp and falling down...

The other person would have family too.

By the end of the day, she would either be a Victor, or she would be dead. Skyler Dashton, Victor. Skyler Dashton, tribute and corpse. She would be historic, the first time two District Eleven tributes had won within ten years of each other, or she would be another name on the endless monument back home, to be proud of and to be sad to lose, and then to move on in time for next year. Back at home it wasn't unusual for people her own age to die of exhaustion and dehydration.

If she won, she'd have to be a mentor.

Her thoughts whirled as she pushed through the thick undergrowth.

Sebastian was waiting inside the Cornucopia, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his mind wide open. He knew what happened now; he'd seen it. Either the remaining tributes made their own way to the Cornucopia, or the Gamemakers made them. There was a nice kind of circularity to it, the Games beginning and ending in the same space. There were a lot of circles, he reflected. The Cornucopia itself. The circle they'd made about it, waiting, before he'd run into the woods and watched Klaus stab Cherry and Dark murder Rufus. On a larger extent, the circle of the Games. Reaping, Games, Victory Tour, start again. The circle of the districts.

His mind was wandering. He was so close; he couldn't afford to be losing concentration. It was losing concentration that had nearly lost him his life just now.

For the first time, actually dying occurred to him.

Nothing. No feeling, no thoughts. Just black, although you wouldn't even be able to see the black because there would be no connection between your brain and your eyes. Just nothing, forever.

He shivered. That was what twenty two of the people he'd been on the stage with were suffering right now. And he'd done it to, what, six of them. Seven. Misty, Tile, Amber (well, he'd delivered the first deadly blow), Klaus, Crete, Megan, Vedran. More than a quarter of the tributes. Almost a third.