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“C’mon, c’mon, come on! ”
Gusts of wind stole the air from Sapnap’s lungs, smothering his frantic curses while it tore through the hollowed-out frame of the abandoned building. With trembling arms, the Tribute tore open another bandage. He gripped one end tight between his teeth as he wrapped the other around his arm. It bloomed red where Feinberg’s bullet had grazed his skin.
The storm was disorienting, coloring his vision shades of purple and buffeting his already weakened body around until he barely knew what direction he was moving. His bloody footprints were still behind him, so he was moving forward at least.
Tying off the end of the bandage with a grunt, Sapnap leaned heavily against the outer wall of the abandoned apartment building. Fruit’s team was somewhere inside, judging by the sound of artillery fire amidst the storm.
Probably picking off the last of the opposition. Sapnap thought bitterly, a numbness spreading through his chest as images of Hannah and Punz’s crumbled bodies flashed before his eyes.
“ Puto- ”
That familiar voice had Sapnap’s dull heart beat faster again in excitement. Peering around the corner of the wall, he grinned wide. A shock of bright orange hair appeared as another Tribute threw himself through the doorway of the dilapidated office that Sapnap was peering into.
Shadoune slammed the door shut behind him, stumbling away as the force knocked it off one of its hinges. Pulling his rifle down from where it was strapped across his shoulders, he limped toward one of the desks that had been pushed on its side, whether from the last Hunger Games or by its previous inhabitants. Nobody was sure how the Capitol chose or evacuated the lands that would be dedicated to their competitions.
The barrel of the sniper rested across the top of the desk, pointed toward the door as Shadoune settled in. Even from this distance, Sapnap could see the slight tremble in his shoulders.
It would be the perfect time to take revenge. When George had been murdered by Shadoune’s team, he was cornered and alone and probably terrified. Bad had likely been killed under similar circumstances.
It would only be fair that Shadoune fell prey to the same fate.
Sapnap started moving himself forward, towards the door to the outside that Shadoune seemed not to have noticed. The crash of thunder and wind howled still around him, but Sapnap was a stubborn son of a bitch. He wasn’t about to be killed by some weather when a hundred people armed to the teeth had already tried and failed.
There would be nobody left in the Games to avenge Sapnap if this went south. Not that he had any doubt in his own skill, but with unchecked bleeding and ammunition running low, he wasn’t going to be making it to the end. Certainly not on his own, against the behemoth of a team that was left. But he was a petty man had always been a believer that it was better to take someone with you if you were going out anyway.
Keeping one eye on Shadoune through the window and sections of wall that were missing on the side of the building, Sapnap limped forward.
Despite the entire menagerie of emotions that writhed in his gut, Sapnap found that anger wasn’t one of them. While some might call that wisdom or the mark of a strong warrior or some other bullshit, it was a bit disorienting. As kind and generous as he could be, he was no stranger to grudges or vendettas. For some reason, Shadoune didn’t spark the same reaction from him.
He wasn’t sure why. Respect could have been a part of it, sure, but that didn’t fully explain it. Shadoune was a talented fighter, a resourceful survivalist, and had a strategic mind to rival Sapnap’s own well-honed skills. When their teams had spent the night huddled up in the same bunker, under a gentleman’s agreement to ceasefire while they slept, it was Shadoune that he had watched from afar.
Even with a broken understanding of Spanish, he could tell that Shadoune was the one who was checking in on others, showing them how to properly clean and prepare their guns, and inquiring after old wounds they had sustained from the first few days in the arena.
Sapnap could relate, although his own team was fairly self-sufficient after having trained together for years in preparation for the Hunger Games. In another life, maybe Sapnap and Shadoune could have been friends.
Shadoune’s laugh was certainly contagious enough, and the exhausted smiles they’d exchanged from across the makeshift dinner table in the bunker had made him feel comfortable in a way few Tributes had. It was familiar, although Sapnap was fairly sure they’d never met before. They each had been pulled from different districts, after all.
In one of these other lives, maybe it had been himself and Shadoune that teamed until the end. Maybe it had been them having to betray their own, dispatching quickly with the other team members. They would turn to each other as the last two men standing in a lonely world.
Maybe the end would come in a shootout like this, ducking behind cover and peering down scopes until their crosshairs aligned. Or maybe it would be with just their bloody knuckles and open palms, throwing punches they hoped would land on throats laid bare. Sapnap hoped it would have been under a clear open sky like in the old Westerns, and not in a storm as claustrophobic as this.
As he reached the yet-unnoticed door to the outside world, he extended the barrel of his gun around the corner, trying to get a glimpse of Shadoune through the scope.
In the crosshairs, he watched as Shadoune pulled his hood up, covering his profile with the eerie pattern of smiles that Sapnap had learned to spot from a distance. The smile filled his magnifying scope, and something about that cartoon smile gave him pause.
He was still a stubborn and petty and grudge-holding bastard. He always would be. A lifetime of preparing for the battlefield had taught him to trust his own instincts, and he knew that he was going to take someone out with him when he died. But he also knew his heart wasn’t in it for this particular kill.
Lightning struck the tree nearby, setting its leaves alight.
“ Shadoune! ” Sapnap bellowed, making his decision. “Team! Team, team, team, team!”
Sapnap barrelled into the room, turning his aim away from his rival and onto the same door that Shadoune had been guarding.
“Wha- Sapnap?” Shadoune asked, head whipping around to stare with disbelief at the last man he expected to see. A grin of disbelief curled at his lips, like he wasn’t sure if the blood loss was starting to cause hallucinations. “Us, team?”
“That’s what I just said, puta ,” Sapnap pulled on his playground levels of Spanish as he tossed himself behind the same overturned desk. The arm bandage he had tied a few minutes before was already soaked with his own blood, and the red smeared against the shiny material of Shadoune’s coat as they brushed arms.
“Team.” Shadoune agreed, adrenaline pulling a laugh out of him that Sapnap’s own nerves echoed. “Team! Team!”
They were being far louder than they should, but Sapnap couldn’t bring himself to care at this point. He would enjoy these last few minutes, and he would do it on his own terms. Not Feinberg’s, not Fruit’s, not Dasnerth’s, and certainly not the Capitol’s.
He could distantly hear the sounds of combat boots approaching as the enemy team tried to narrow down the corner of the building they were hiding in. The targeting system would be too accurate to evade, and with the storm raging outside there was nowhere they could have gone anyway.
Sapnap leaned heavier into Shadoune’s side, ignoring the protest of his aching body. Shadoune pressed back, sharing their weight as they laughed. A team was a powerful thing to men like them. It was the last light at the end of the tunnel.
“Two gringos left, me and you, and we 1v1 at the end, okay?” Sapnap insisted with a grin. Neither of them would survive that long, and they both knew it. This was a shootout, not a Western. They were lucky if they had minutes left. Sapnap was pretty sure he could hear someone shouting about a monster on the loose in one of the rooms adjacent.
“How do I know you wouldn’t shoot me as soon as they are dead?” Shadoune laughed, elbowing him sharply in the side.
“I trust you, you trust me, ok? Tu es mi hermano! ” Sapnap teased, and to his own surprise, he meant it. To illustrate his point, he threw an arm around Shadoune’s shoulders, squeezing him and throwing him off balance until Sapnap was batted away.
“Wait- I have to heal, I have to heal.” Shadoune complained, pulling out his last medkit. Sapnap felt a bit bad for distracting him, but it was probably too late for some painkillers to make much of a difference.
Sapnap wanted to ask him what his favorite movies were, or whether he would have chosen to be a pirate or a ninja on the playground, or whether he had also been training his whole life for this competition.
They heard the enemy team open fire in the hallway outside, shooting holes through the useless wood of the door. It wouldn’t hold them back for long.
Sapnap pulled his shotgun from his back, moving quickly from his cover behind the desk to hide just to the side of the door. He could buy Shadoune some time and maybe have some fun doing it.
The door flew off its hinges, splintering into pieces across from him. A spray of bullets accompanied it as Feinberg’s team painted the wall opposite, thankfully missing both of them. Sapnap waited, biding his time until- there!
As the Tributes poured through the door, he unloaded his first shell into Fruit’s body armor and ducked behind cover. They turned their fire on him, buying Shadoune another moment with his medkit.
They were screaming and shooting and Sapnap knew he landed a few good shots because Fruit was bleeding and Feinberg looked pissed, but it wasn’t enough.
Their next bullets tore straight through what was left of Sapnap’s armor, holes riddling his torso and one of his arms. He staggered and collapsed, and they turned to look for Shadoune in the room.
Damn , Sapnap had been hoping for at least one more kill.
“Oh I’m dead-” Sapnap felt the blood welling up from his lips. “ Shadoune , WIN!”
Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched as Shadoune opened fire from his spot behind the overturned desk. He landed a few good hits as well, and Sapnap could tell they were probably on their last legs. Before he could finish them off, Sapnap saw the spray of bright red as Shadoune’s blood decorated the wall behind him and the shock of ginger as his hood fell back again.
“He’s won, he’s won, he’s won-” Shadoune warned as he hit the ground with a thud.
With them both on the ground and bleeding out, the team stormed away to pick off any remaining stragglers. Sapanp could tell that whoever ‘won’ this competition would need emergency medical attention before they could claim any prize money.
Sapnap was crawling as soon as they turned, pushing aside the feeling of disappointment that they hadn’t managed to take any of them out. It wasn’t as important as making sure his friend didn’t die alone.
“Shadoune, GG! GG, mi amigo!” Sapnap called, ignoring the way his body was shutting down as he dragged himself across the ground.
“GG Sapnap. We fought together at the end!” Shadoune called back, and Sapnap could hear the shuffling as he started crawling too.
They met somewhere in the middle, long red streaks painting their paths across the floor.
Shadoune used the last of his strength to prop himself against the wall. The back of his head knocked against the concrete with a thud as it rolled to the side, wearily watching as Sapnap closed the rest of the distance.
Sapnap was pretty sure he didn’t have the strength to do the same, but he couldn’t refuse Shadoune’s outstretched hand as it helped to pull him up.
Again, their shoulders pressed together. This time, Sapnap couldn’t tell if it was his blood getting on Shadoune, or if he was just covered in his own. He didn’t really care, either.
Pressed together from shoulder to hip, Sapnap sagged against the wall. He found that he couldn’t feel his legs anymore, but he still had one arm left.
Reaching out delicately, he nudged Shadoune’s hand with his own and grinned as Shadoune rolled his eyes. Weakly, Shadoune flipped his hand over and let Sapnap thread their fingers together.
“We die together.” Sapnap was satisfied with that. It was better than any of his other friends had been given. He had a friend with him, to hold him at the end of the line. Maybe leaving side-by-side in this world would mean that they could go into the next one together.
“We fought well.” Shadoune added, squeezing at Sapnap’s bloody knuckles. He sounded weary, but there would be time to sleep soon. His light eyes were already going cloudy and it would be a shame to see them without the spark he had observed on the battlefield.
“Yes. We did.” Sapnap agreed. He would have been content with losing to Shadoune, if it came to that. He was a little annoyed that this particular group of careers were the ones that were going to make it to the end.
“Can I just rest my head here?” Shadoune asked, his words starting to slide together as he laid his cheek on Sapnap’s hair.
“‘s fine,” Sapnap teased, laying his cheekbone against Shadoune’s shoulder in turn.
The rattling sound of their breathing started to even out.
“Did you ever watch Westerns as a kid?” Sapnap mumbled, and Shadoune made a confused noise deep in his throat.
“Not really,” Shadoune smiled and he could feel it against his hair.
“We should watch some after this.”
“Whatever you say, Sapnap,” Shadoune sighed.
Sapnap had never been one for comfortable silences, but he let it hang between them for a while as the storm outside began to quiet and the last of the cannons began to fire. There was a winner somewhere out there, but he would never know who.
“What did you watch, then?” Sapnap asked, trying to take his mind off it.
But there was no answer and the hand in his had gone limp. He squeezed Shadoune’s fingers once more.
“Fine, I’ll just ask you next time.”