Vic looked her knife over. She lay silently on her bed. Her dull bloodshot eyes met the serrated edge, without a trace of anything on it. No gore. Because Vic didn't help them. She herself hated dabbling when she could see the cabins of idiots fighting. She was going to get up, she really was, but then her vision began to darken like it always did. Small flashes of light. Mentally she counted down how long it had lasted. Usually only two minutes or so, but this time it was at least six.

So maybe the leader of her cabin wouldn't yell at her too much. She'd just lie and say it lasted longer than she thought it would, and the map was inaccurate. Yeah. That could possibly make the punishment more bearable, or she could just say the commands were too vague. Which was the excuse she normally came up with. Nothing new there. But guilt began to rise inside of her. People probably died. What if they were her cabin mates? The wounded, if there were any-

She stopped her thoughts, and closed her eyes to get through her next words. "I'm not even going to waste my energy to go and check. Why do the good guys always have to win?"