Andrea sits with her eyes closed, leaning on the wall. She’s slipping in and out of consciousness, dreaming, probably. She hears the door creak open next to her, but she knows it is not real. She hears the footsteps as someone enters the room. She feels something cold and metal against her neck.
She opens her eyes.
“You’re alive,” she whispers. The hand holding the gun tenses, but stays in place.
“So are you. I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought Dani was going to kill you.”
“Oh, w-well she di- she tried. She slipped off of a toilet seat while she was trying to kill me, actually…” She sighs and looks pointedly at the gun against her neck. “Are you going to kill me, Paige?”
Paige gulps and glances at the ceiling. “I don’t want to. I mean, you’ve essentially been my main ally this whole time… But if I leave you here, you’ll die, anyway.” She clicks back the safety. “If I shoot you now… I can end it faster… I can put you out of your misery.”
“I might not die. How many people are left? Three? That means I just have to outlive you and one other person. If you go to confront that person now… There’s a chance you won’t make it. I still could.”
And this is where Paige decides to be truly honest with herself.
“Andrea… I want you to know, you’ve meant a lot to me over these past few weeks. I couldn’t’ve gotten this far without you.” She takes a breath and leans back a bit. “But all the same, I have to win. If I go kill Brad, and you’re still alive… I won’t be able to wait for you to die naturally. But if I don’t kill you now, I know that I won’t be able to do it then. I’ll just collapse.”
Andrea lifts an arm to comfort Paige, but Paige pushes it away, still unaware of the tears streaming down her own face.
“I can’t let that happen. I’m sorry, Andrea. Say hello to Francisco for me.”
She pulls the trigger.
It takes a matter of minutes to find him. Brad is seated on the steps of the alter, head bowed, fervently whispering prayers. Paige passes slowly and confidently down the aisle, eyes on her victim. The bullets are gone from the gun, but she carries with her the resilient bobblehead and an arrow she found in the School of Religion. She stops at the edge of the front pew and waits.
After a moment, Brad looks up. He sees her, but says nothing. His beard has grown down to his neck, and his eyes seem out of focus. He appears to be much older than the eighteen-year-old boy he was a month ago. He sits with his knees apart, hands clasped in front of him.
“Hello, Brad,” says Paige, coldly.
He hesitates for longer than normal, but he answers. “Hello, Paige.” His voice is hoarse and cracked, as though he is dehydrated. Paige glances at the silver trays behind him. They appear to be the same ones used in communion, but they’re empty. Not clean, just empty. He’s been living off of communion. But now… his time is up.
“Paige, I’ve been waiting for you to come to me.”
Paige raises an eyebrow. “Me specifically? Or just someone?”
He shakes his head. “You. Specifically. I always knew it would be you.”
Paige shuffles uncomfortably and crosses her arms, careful not to poke herself with the end of the arrow. “How?”
Brad shakes his head, smiling slightly. “Some are given gifts of teaching, some of discernment. I have the gift of prophecy, Paige. I knew you would come here.”
Paige sighs and stares at the stained glass window to her right. It’s a picture of Jesus on the cross. How appropriate.
“Well… Brad, in this vision or prophecy or whatever of yours… did I kill you?”
Brad chuckles and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, Paige. I only know that you came this far.”
[AND THAT’S ALL THE REST OF YOU WILL EVER KNOW! HAHAHAHA!]
Just kidding.
Paige pulls out the bobblehead and stares at the tiny button. For the opportune moment. Well, apparently, the opportune moment has already happened twice. Could there be a third? Could that many opportune moments really exist in this game?
How could the bobblehead know the time was opportune? Isn’t it just a machine? It’s controlled by an outside force. It has no mind of its own. It never required an opportune moment to act… She was the one in need of an opportune moment. She pushed the button when she did… because she knew it was the way to survive. That was the way to win. That made it the opportune moment… for her.
She thinks about the look on Andrea’s face before she pulled the trigger. It wasn’t fear or anger… it was hope. Andrea believed in her. To let her down now would be an insult to her memory.
“Isn’t it funny how we get so wrapped up in winning the game?” Brad interrupts. “It’s never been about anything more than that. I mean sure, survival may be nice, but at what cost? We will all have to die someday. Wouldn’t it be better to die with honor, than to live longer and live in fear?
“I know that you were forced into this, Paige. We all were. I understand. It seems natural, now, to finish it the way you’ve been told. One simple act, and you win the war. You go home a hero, and you’ll be set for life. And yet… If you do that, you’ll never see any of us again. It’s difficult to say if anyone out there could ever really understand what it’s like to live in here.”
Paige knows she should ignore him. Just kill him, she thinks. Push the button. Throw the arrow. Move! Do something! But she can’t move. She’s trembling, but her feet are rooted and her arms are paralyzed. Kill him, Paige! It’s the only way out of the game!
And yet, his words echo in her mind. “We get so wrapped up in winning the game…” Maybe life shouldn’t be about winning. Maybe life… should be about living. And maybe death… isn’t really losing. Maybe death is just… dying.
We’ve all got to do it someday, right?
Suddenly, as if moving on their own, her legs begin working again. Paige steps back, one, two, three feet. She keeps her eyes on Brad, but her hand is on the bobblehead. She keeps moving back. She stops halfway down the aisle, thirty feet from her fellow tribute.
“It’s just a game, isn’t it?” she says. “Maybe the end result doesn’t really matter… Maybe it was all up to chance.” She sighs and whispers a prayer of her own, then holds out the bobblehead. “See this, Brad? This thing has saved my life, twice. What sort of crazy luck was that, anyway? Who decided I should have it?”
She leans back and runs her hand over the button, then stares up at the ceiling. “It’s all a game of chance, anyway. So let’s flip a coin.” With that, she pushes the button, and she launches the bobblehead into the air.
YOU ARE READING
The Kairos Games
FanfictionIn this thrilling spin-off of the Hunger Games, twenty-six lonely college freshmen face up against their worst nightmare: death, at the hands of each other and cafeteria food. Who will win the dreaded Kairos Games? Will it be Becca, with her yellow...
