¹ THRONE ─ the hunger games

[ 022 ] this kerosene's live

"Back off, Sage," Alex said, his voice like stone. "Now."

Sage bristled, the fury in her eyes still raw and bright. A beat passed and, without taking her heated gaze off Iko, she took a step back.

"Can we get moving before the others catch up with us?" Alex drawled, pinning Iko with a warning look.

She ignored him, and shouldered her way to the front, gripping the knife in her hand so tight it felt like the hilt could fuse into the flesh of her palm. If it were up to Alex, maybe he wouldn't have hit Sage. Maybe Iko struck Sage because—even though she was happy to go with whatever the pack wanted, happy to kill, happy to contribute to eliminating as many tributes as they could before it was time to split—the girl was a loose canon. Announcing their presence to the entire world when stealth was very much required to catch virtually anyone in this arena was a stupid move. Maybe Iko hit Sage because someone needed to be the victim of her aggravation. Granted, it wasn't like she had time to dwell on whether the action had made her feel any better.

By the time they got to the fourth trap, which was empty, Iko and Sage were happy to ignore each other.

As they were trekking up to the final one, a burst of static crackled from their radios, then, Titus' voice came through. "There's no one on our side of the valley. Any luck with yours?"

Alex was the first to react. "Not yet. Meet us at the last trap."

"Copy that."

And then the line went silent. Alex pocketed his radio. They kept going, climbing with the sun. Sweat poured down Iko's back as her calve muscles burned from the gruelling hike, her pulse thrumming in her neck, a reminder that she was still human.

Iko was about to suggest they just keep going past to explore a new sector of the arena, since the forest was too quiet, too devoid of struggle, until she saw it. The ropes, tied between two trees had been raised two feet off the ground. Alex and Iko shared a glance. The trap had been activated. A morbid thrill shot through Iko's veins. True enough, at the centre of the trap, like a fly caught in a spider's web, a boy, tangled and helpless in the net, his arms twisted in the ropes. His dark eyes were wide, fearful and darting to and fro as Iko, Alex, and Sage stepped into view. All the colour seemed to drain from his face.

"Lost your way, kid?" Sage mused, smirking.

Iko took a step closer. Something deep within the boy snapped. He began to thrash violently like a deer in a bear trap, desperation overruling rationality. The net held. Nothing would save him now. An animalistic snarl emitted from his throat as he started chewing on the rope pressing against his mouth, trying to gnaw his way out. Still, his efforts were futile. As far as everyone knew, this boy was already dead. Brick by brick, Iko thought. One step closer to the throne.

"Should we wait for the others?" Sage asked, not taking her eyes off the trapped boy.

Alex started to say something, but Iko wasn't listening.

"No," Iko said. She blinked, and the world crackled sharply into view with a sudden clarity that clouded her vision. "I think it's about time we gave the Capitol the show we promised them."

Iko cocked her head, studying the boy. He was stretched sideways, all baby-faced and thin from near-starvation. He looked no older than fifteen. Iko stepped over the rope to inspect the number on the back of his shirt. 11. Looks like District Eleven wasn't going to have a victor. Again.

The knife in Iko's hand flashed in the light as she flipped it over her knuckles. He went so still Iko thought he'd died from shock, but his chest heaved, his eyes were seeing, and he was going to be her kill. And although it wasn't something she often did, she was going to have fun. Iko crouched down to eye-level and dug the tip of her knife into his cheek. The boy flinched, and the blade dragged a shallow red line just under his eye. Breathing hard, the boy whimpered like a scared animal.