Chivonne Ashford (D8) and Harvey Zea (D12) sit huddled together next to the Cornucopia in the early morning hours of Day 4. Harvey is half-asleep, the only indication that he’s still alive is the shallow rise and fall of his chest against Chivonne’s. She hasn’t slept, unable to stop crying after witnessing the gruesome death of Matilda Gilbert (D12, deceased). Each time she tries to close her eyes, images of the District Twelve girl being murdered play on repeat. Harvey shifts onto his side, and Chivonne runs her hand over his hair caringly.

​

“I’m not going to leave you, you know?” she whispers to him. And it’s true. Chivonne knows that splitting up now wouldn’t just be dangerous, it would be straight up stupid. “There are seven of them, two of us. We’re stronger together.” Harvey nods lightly, mumbling something that Chvionne can’t quite make out, something about the careers and north and snow banks. 

​

“The Careers went up from the Cornucopia?” asks Chivonne, and Harvey struggles to sit upright. 

“Yeah, there’s some buildings up there. I think they went into the smaller one.” 

​

Chivonne thinks about this new information before an idea begins forming in her head. Harvey sees a mischievous flicker in her grey eyes as pieces come together. 

​

“I wonder if they’re still there…” Chivonne ponders. The steady beeping of a parachute floating down catches both of their attention. Chivonne’s mentor has sent her a hot meal; the smell of warm bread, hot soup, hearty gravy covering a fatty cut of meat, and some buttered potatoes fills their small area of the arena and Chivonne barely notices the other item in the parachute as she divides the meal between herself and Harvey. It’s not until they’ve filled their stomachs that they notice Harvey’s own parcel, which includes a bottle of water, and Chivonne’s new headlamp.  

​

After treating her arm wound with the last strip of gauze and last dollop of healing balm in her first aid kit, Chivonne smiles wickedly and helps Harvey stand. “Let’s do something crazy.” 

___________________________________________

​

Tiberius Bournes (D10) sits in the snow, hidden behind a small bush with his hood pulled up tightly around his head, his stakes held tightly in his tiny hands. He’s shivering - it’s been hours since he last saw any of his allies. He slept alone in the same bush he’s hiding in now, albeit not for long. His dreams were riddled with the faces of his allies, now dead, after seeing them projected in the sky the night before. It’s still dark out and he’s having trouble seeing, but he stays put, praying that Ianthe Berengy (D6) will find him.

​

And that she does. After a full night of searching for the younger boy, during which she managed to crudely fix her busted yo-yo. Ianthe finally stumbles upon him in his bush. Or rather, he spots her and jumps out of his hiding spot and engulfs her in a huge. Ianthe lets out a huge sigh of relief and Tiberius is near tears.

​

“Are you okay?” she asks him over and over again, cupping his face in her hands and checking for any nicks or cuts. He nods fervently and smiles. “Did you see? The others…” Ianthe is suddenly very serious, and Tiberius nods sadly, thinking once again of Leah Delaware (D3, deceased), Siren Acquafredda (D4, deceased), and Ivy Hunter (D7, deceased).  

​

“I’m not going to leave you,” Ianthe pulls Tiberius back into a hug, and he then notices her arm wound and another wave of guilt washes over him. He left her with Rhys Bullock (D11) and she’d gotten hurt. He gestures toward her arm and makes a pained face. H… U… R… T, he signs the letters and Ianthe, understanding, nods. “Just a little bit, not too bad. Nothing a little food and water can’t fix.”

With that, the last of the Sugarcube Alliance walks north, finding a nice spot in the trees around the Workshop to sit. They’re coming up with a plan when their parachutes arrive - both tributes receive headlamps and Tiberius receives a set of three shiny, new daggers as well. Ianthe squeals with delight when she finds sterile gauze and healing balm in her gift, immediately treating the trident stab wound on her arm. 

​

“Do you think it’s safe to stay here?” Ianthe asks, and Tiberius looks around. After some appraisal, he nods and the two set up camp. 

___________________________________________

​

Malia Wells (D1) sits in the hayloft of the Stables, cleaning off the blades of her sais and knives. She scowls - the blood has dried and is caked onto the blades, she should’ve cleaned them off yesterday after she carved up Astrid Luca (D9, deceased). Cal Dynam (D2) sleeps a few feet away, covered in hay with his hand on his sword. 

​

Cal. Malia thinks of all the tributes who seem to be sabotaging their allies in these games. She doesn’t want to do that - she’d grown quite fond of Cal’s company. 

​

Beep, beep. Two parachutes float down into the snow outside of the loft window and Malia shakes Cal awake. “Hey, wake up. Come on.” 

​

The two climb down and out of the loft before trudging out into the snow to retrieve the parachutes. Malia opens hers and finds a tub of healing balm, which she immediately opens and applies to the shallow cut on her shoulder inflicted by Astrid. 

​

Cal opens his gift and pulls out a bottle of water and… “A headlamp?” He stares at the clunky accessory. “What could this be for?” 

​

“Night time, maybe,” Malia shrugs, “It gets pretty dark here, don’t you think.” 

​

Cal puts the headlamp in his pack and turns to Malia. “I was thinking,” he says. Malia feels her heart rate accelerate. This is it. He’s going to kill me. She grips a knife in her hand. “We should set up some traps in front of the stables, just in case.” Oh, good. Malia loosens her grip on the knife and sighs inwardly. 

“Yeah, that’s smart, let’s do it.” 

​

They begin to walk around the building together, and Cal, reading Malia’s nervousness says, “Listen, I know how this is supposed to go and I know who we are. Careers. We’re supposed to be bad ass or whatever. But I’m not going to do anything to our alliance, you don’t need to worry about that.” 

Malia looks at Cal dumbfounded before smiling. “Well, we’ve come this far. Why stop not just because there are fewer of us?” 

​

“I agree,” Cal nods. “I’ll protect you.”

 

“Thanks, but I can handle myself,” Malia laughs, brandishing her knives and jutting out her hip to display the sais attached there. Cal chuckles. 

​

The duo get to work, setting up various traps using their rope, hay bales, bells, and anything else they can find in the Stables and in the hay loft. 

​

“Is that it?” Malia asks, looking around at their handiwork. Cal nods, picking up a handful of hay and feeding it to a nearby reindeer, and the two head back up into the loft to relax. 

___________________________________________

​

Rhys spent the night lying in the trees behind the Frozen Lake. Badly wounded, he can barely find the strength to drag himself further into the foliage. In the early morning hours, a parachute drops next to his barely conscious body. He manages to pull out the gifts inside before falling unconscious again, weak from blood loss.  

___________________________________________

​

Tesla Watt (D5) sits in the snow to the west of the Cornucopia, waiting for Posi Rio (D5) to regain consciousness. She doesn’t want to stay here, exposed and out in the open, for too long. It’s mid-morning and the sun sits high in the sky when multiple parachutes drop next to Posi’s body. Tesla reaches across him and opens the one addressed to her, inside is a canteen of water which she drinks from gratefully. She doesn’t think Posi will be awake anytime soon so she opens his packages too, finding a hot meal, a headlamp, a first aid kit, and two packs of hand warmers. She opens the first aid kit, slathering healing balm onto Posi’s gaping calf wound and wrapping it tightly with gauze. 

​

When crunching footsteps in the snow nearby alert her to the presence of others, either tribute or muttation (she’s not sure which and she doesn’t want to find out), Tesla quickly packs up her and Posi’s supplies and begins to drag him further west, picking up more stones and rocks as she goes.  

___________________________________________

​

It’s only midday when the sun begins to set again. The tributes look around, confused. It’s hard to tell time in the arena, but everyone with half a brain can tell that this sunset is premature. The sun dips further and further below the horizon until it’s out of the sight and the entire arena is bathed in complete darkness. 

___________________________________________

​

“Wonder what that’s all about,” Ianthe and Tiberius stamp out their small fire and don their headlamps. It’s been hours and the sun has not risen again. It seems like the rest of the games will be in the dark. “We should gain some leverage, get higher up or something.” Ianthe suggests, picking up her things and helping Tiberius with his own. 

​

Ianthe is helping Tiberius climb into one of the trees, the highest one she could find, when something rustles in the bushes nearby. Tiberius turns to look for the source of the noise, but Ianthe pushes him further up into the branches. Ianthe pulls her yo-yos from her pockets and holds them out defensively, ready to strike at whatever or whomever comes through the bushes. 

​

Something small and white comes out of the bushes, its bushy tail and big ears illuminated under the light of Ianthe’s headlamp. 

​

“Oh, a hare,” Ianthe laughs, returning her yo-yos to her pockets and turning back to the tree trunk, getting ready to climb when the hare, not as docile as anticipated, hops forward and launches itself onto her back. She screams, dropping from the tree and thrashing on the ground.

​

Tiberius, watching from above, can’t stand to lose someone else. Thinking quickly, he grabs one of his wooden stakes from his pocket and scampers down the tree, far enough that he knows he’ll be able to get a clean shot off. 

​

“Tiberius just go!” Ianthe is still being attacked by the hare; it sinks its bunny teeth into her arms and legs viciously. Still, she’s thinking of him. No, Tiberius thinks, determination overcoming him. He sets his eyes on the hare, trying to keep a level head and a steady hand. Three, two, one. He throws the stake, just missing the hare. He tries again, missing again. One more stake left, Tiberius knows he can’t mess this up. 

​

A horrible shriek from the hare punctuates Ianthe’s screams and Tiberius drops the rest of the way down the tree and helps Ianthe get back to her feet. She’s bleeding from several puncture wounds on her arms and legs but assures Tiberius that she’s okay to climb. They choose another tree, one that’s a little shorter with thicker branches, and Tiberius climbs up the branches easily. He’s agile but not strong, so he struggles to help Ianthe up but after a few tries, they manage to secure themselves with rope. In the darkness, they have a perfect view of the lit windows of the Workshop.

___________________________________________

​

Rhys wakes in the dark. He’s still very weak but manages to actually open the parachute that was sent to him so many hours ago. Inside he finds water, gauze, and a headlamp. Remembering the full tub of healing balm in his pack, he rolls over and grimaces when snow hits his festering wounds. Slowly, he sits up and takes in his surroundings. He’s in the trees next to the Frozen Lake, just far enough to feel safe from whatever had killed Ivy. 

​

Rhys carefully puts healing balm on his back and sides, squeezing his eyes shut to keep tears from spilling out from the pain and burning of the balm. After a healthy layer is covering the wounds, he wraps his entire middle with the strip of gauze. When he no longer feels like his stomach is on fire, he manages to keep down some food and water and then begins thinking of a plan to keep his area secure.

​

Rope. Rhys remembers suddenly that there’s 10 feet of rope in his pack. He pulls it out and begins to set up a tripwire in front of his makeshift campsite, putting dead leaves in front so that the crunching will alert him to anyone approaching from the front. 

​

Rhys thinks of Tesla and Posi. He wants to try to find them, sure that Tesla had not meant to sever the alliance yesterday, but he’s still not healed up enough to move long distances. Seeing as he has no clue where they could have gone, he decides staying put is his best option for the night. He also thinks of Aisly-Parca Sullivan (D11, deceased), his dead district partner. They hadn’t been close at all for a few years, but she was his best friend at one point. He lets himself cry for the girl he watched die, the girl he missed so deeply. Regret fills him up - regret for cutting her off, regret for being so distant, for not protecting her better. He thinks that maybe, if things had been a little different, she would still be here with him. 

​

Never mind that, Rhys thinks. He needs to be productive so he collects sticks and dead leaves that are sitting around his campsite, not daring to put on the headlamp yet as it could attract too much unwanted attention, and he’s in no shape to get in a fight. 

___________________________________________

​

Chivonne and Harvey enter the Workshop and can immediately tell that they are not the first tributes to be here. There are traps, some of which have been set off, and so Chivonne is incredibly cautious as she walks forward into the warmth of the front room. A number of toys sit to the right of the door, so Chivonne picks them up and begins tossing them in front of her, checking for any traps that weren’t set off previously. She leads the way, followed closely by Harvey, and they wind through the hallways of the Workshop looking for two things, one of which they aren’t entirely sure is even here. 

​

After a few hours of searching they finally stumble upon a dark and dank room near the back of the Workshop. It’s full of wood and other fire-starting materials, and there, in the back of the room on a low shelf is exactly what they’ve been looking for. Cans of butane line the shelf and Chivonne gathers them all up in her arms, urging Harvey to grab some wood. They carefully fill their packs, emptying out things they no longer need to make room, and then turn to leave, heading back out of the Workshop and walking next door to the Stables.

​

Looking up at the big, wood and stone structure, Chivonne and Harvey are careful to avoid any windows and check the perimeter of the stables for traps. They reach the front doors and set off Malia and Cal’s wire trap with a piece of wood, watching as it’s lifted into the air and propelled by a bale of hay. It makes a loud thunk noise every time it hits against the Stable doors.

​

“We have to move quickly, they’ll know we’re here!” Chivonne urges Harvey, tossing him some wood and butane. The butane, ordinarily a gas, is liquified at such low temperatures and the two tributes empty the cans around the base of the Stables, tossing wood down for good measure. They hear some thumping and rustling from inside the Stables, but whether they’re from the reindeer or Careers, they cannot be sure.

 

“Okay, back up!” Harvey pushes Chivonne behind himself, pulling out the single match from his pack and striking it against a rough patch on the Stable’s exterior. It immediately lights and, just as the door to the Stables is opening, Harvey tosses it forward and the butane gas erupts in flame.  

___________________________________________

​

The sudden darkness catches Malia and Cal by surprise but thankfully, they’re safely stowed away in the hay loft. It’s lit dimly by candles next to each stall and is warm. After setting up their traps, they take turns keeping watch out the loft window using the headlamp as a spotlight. 

​

Malia is keeping watch when she notices low whispers coming from outside the Stables. She looks out the window, hoping to see the intruders from there, but can’t see anyone. There’s a faint smell of rotten eggs permeating the air as well. 

​

“Cal, get up,” Malia shakes him awake and scoops up her weapons. “There’s someone outside.”

“Relax, the traps will get them,” Cal waves her off, laying back down in the hay. As if on cue, banging against the door tells them that their traps have worked. Interestingly, though, there’s no screaming as you would expect from someone hanging upside by their leg, slamming against a wooden door over and over again. 

“I’m going to go check it out,” Malia says, pushing Cal awake again. “Cover me.” 

​

Malia descends the ladder and tip toes to the Stable doors, pushing them open. As she does, there’s a whoosh and suddenly everything is hot and has a strange orange tint. Malia screams, looking down and realizing she’s on fire. She can see Chivonne and Harvey, standing a little ways in front of her, but in that moment neither of them matters. Malia thrashes wildly, rolling in the hay and trying to extinguish herself but it only seems to make it worse. 

​

“Malia!” Cal looks down over the loft and sees his ally, engulfed in flames. He’s about to run down to help her when he notices that she’s not the only thing on fire. The entire building is going up in flames, the copious amounts of hay making the fire spread faster. Looking down at Malia again, he notices that she’s gone eerily still. His fears are confirmed by the distant boom of a cannon. 

​

The beating of the reindeer’s hooves below snaps Cal into action. He runs down the ladder and, as fast as he can, unlatches every stall to give the reindeer, whom he now considers to be his pets (sort of), a fighting chance. He then runs back into the loft, fire hot on his heels, and busts open the window. Looking down and seeing a large pile of snow directly below the window, Cal grabs his pack and his sword and jumps.

___________________________________________

​

Posi struggles to swim to the surface of the lake, his breathing labored and his limbs drained of all feeling from the ice cold water. He can see Ivy’s limp body below and red clouds his vision, followed by Tesla standing over Leah’s dead body, spear in hand, and a burning sensation. I want to live. Then he’s watching Tesla drag his body through the snow, blood training behind him. His step-father is there, too, feeding him ideas about how to rig the arena, how to win. How to live. More burning. Rhys is standing above him now, and he’s back in the lake, his head forced under the water. He can’t breathe. It burns. 

 

Posi sits bolt upright and hisses in pain at the burning sensation emanating from his badly wounded calf. He isn’t in the lake, he’s sitting next to Tesla against a wall. Where am I? Tesla looks over at him with concern. He can’t stop seeing her, standing over Leah. But he’s warm, and he looks ahead at the fire that’s glowing at his feet along with a number of hand warmers situated under his body. His clothes are set at the foot of the fire, the ice and snow melting off of them. 

​

“Are you okay?” Tesla asks, her brows furrowed together. 

​

Posi nods, looking around, even more confused at the sight of his ally tossing marshmallows and tree bark into the fire. 

​

“Where’s Rhys? Where are we?” Posi sits up further, taking in his strange surroundings.

 

“We’re in a house made of candy. In a Candy Forest,” Tesla says nonchalantly. Posi looks shocked, and blinks hard as if he’ll be able to make sense of this news. Tesla launches into an explanation - how she dragged Posi from the Frozen Lake, leaving Rhys behind, how she wrapped Posi’s wounds and did her best to fight his hypothermia, how she stumbled into the Candy Forest and found a house after hours of walking. How the sun went down way too early and still hasn’t come back up. “Your mentor sent you a hot meal, too. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so we can eat.” 

​

Posi, still shocked, nods and accepts a bowl of still-hot soup from Tesla, gulping it down with a bite of meat slathered in gravy. After a few moments, he puts his bowl down and looks Tesla directly in the eyes, something he struggles with usually.

​

“Um, Tesla… let’s talk,” he starts hesitantly. Posi knows he can’t attack Tesla but he also knows he can’t stay with her, he’s dead weight. He’s in no state to fight or even walk right now. “If I have enough materials to last me, I don’t know, three or four days, I can stay here safely. I can try to make something with the batteries and cords to see if they work. Just leave me here with Bess, I’ll be okay.”

​

At the mention of his tribute token, Tesla’s eyes fall to the ground. She begins picking her cuticles. “Posi… Bess isn’t here. I couldn’t find her after I pulled you out of the lake. I tried, I did. I’m sorry.” 

​

Posi feels like he’s been kicked in the side. “What?” His voice cracks. Not only has he lost a friend, but a distraction, too. Now he’s forced to think about death and pain and other nasty things he’s been avoiding for days. He feels his heart rate accelerating but, despite this, urges Tesla to leave him. She’s reluctant, flat out refusing at first, but after a few minutes of arguing she finally gives in, propping Posi up by the fire and laying out his supplies in front of him. 

​

“Good luck, Tesla,” Posi says, his eyelids heavy. He’s ready to sleep again. 

​

“You too, Posi,” the girl kneels beside him and plants a kiss on his cheek, smiling at him before turning and walking out the door of the funny candy house. 

​

Posi lies there for what seems like hours, tears falling down his face freely now that he’s alone. His eyelids get heavier and heavier until finally, they close. As he sleeps, his calf wound continues to bleed, saturating the gauze wrapped around it and leaking out onto the floor. Sometime during the night, his cannon sounds. Tesla cries when she sees his face projected in the sky later. 

___________________________________________

​

Chivonne and Harvey watch in horror as Malia burns alive in front of them. Their plan worked, but maybe a bit too well.

​

“We need to get out of here,” Chivonne grabs Harvey’s arm and begins to drag him away from the entrance of the Stables. At that moment, the doors are trampled down by the reindeer that Cal released, taking the two tributes by surprise. They stampede out of the Stables and Harvey, who was closer to the door, has his leg trampled by one of the reindeer and falls to ground. 

​

Chivonne tries to pull him up, but his leg, which is bent at unnatural angles, is not able to support any weight. Chivonne is desperate, dropping her pack and offering to carry Harvey on her back.

 

“Chivonne, no,” Harvey implores her to go without him but she can’t. Tears fall from her eyes and she tries again to hoist him onto her back. It’s no use. 

​

Cal comes around the burning building then, his sword wielded and a murderous glint in his eyes. 

​

“You did this?” he bellows at them, pointing back at the Stables. Not waiting for an answer, he advances on Harvey, who pushes Chivonne roughly away and tells her one more time to “Run!” 

​

Stumbling backwards, Chivonne barely has the senses to pick up her pack after watching Cal sink his sword into Harvey’s heart. Boom! 

​

Chivonne turns to run when a knife catches her in the back of her leg. It only causes her to trip, the adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins giving her the strength to run away as fast as possible.

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​

END OF DAY 4 STANDINGS

​

Malia Wells (D1): deceased, 9th place (burnt to death) 

Cal Dynam (D2): alive

Tesla Watt (D5): alive

Posi Rio (D5): deceased, 8th place (bled out) 

Ianthe Berengy (D6): alive, allied with Tiberius Bournes, moderately injured (bitten in the arms 

and legs by an arctic hare muttation) 

Chivonne Ashford (D8): alive, moderately injured (stabbed in the back of the right leg by a 

knife) 

Tiberius Bournes (D10): alive, allied with Ianthe Berengy

Rhys Bullock (D11): alive

Harvey Zea (D12): deceased, 7th place (stabbed through the heart by a sword)