Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Hunger Games series, nor am I affiliated with it.
A/N: Seeing the Catching Fire movie not too long ago, I really wanted to write a fanfic that involved the jabberjays. Yes, I know it's not super original, since a scene with the jabberjays happened in the book and all that jazz. This fanfic is, more or less, my take on a possible similar scene. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Reviews/criticism/comments are always appreciated!
The sky is dark under the dome, and our camp sleeps deeply. I am only just awake, my body curled inward on the sand. My mind is blank and empty, the sound of the water echoing in my skull. Beside me, Peeta drowns in slumber. I don't need to open my eyes to know he's there; I can hear his breathing, barely louder than the tide. Someone else is snoring- it's likely Johanna. She's loud enough as it is in the daytime.
All is silent and still. Then, a scream pierces the night.
Suddenly, I am not even close to asleep. I jerk up from my sandy pillow and look down the shore. I can see two people in the distance, their bodies only shadows in the moonlight as they spin and clash with each other. Someone else is making noise- I hear the distinct sound of blade on blade and it sounds close. I am beginning to stand up when a dark shape moves from the shadows of the jungle line towards our camp. It looks like a person, and I tense up, my hand feeling for anything within reach I can use as a weapon. Within seconds, though, the stranger speaks and Finnick's voice reaches my ears.
"Get up, quick!" He yells, running like lightning through the sand. I am already shaking Peeta awake when he reaches us.
"Wake up! Peeta, come on- wake up!" I screech, pounding Peeta on the shoulder. His eyes slide open sleepily at first, frustration shadowing his face. But one look around is all it takes for recognition to flood his face and he, too, is on his feet in seconds.
I whirl around to see Finnick and Beetee cutting down the beach and through the nearby forest when I feel something grab me by the arm and drag me in the same path. Fear blinds my sight and I thrash around, trying to get out of my attacker's grip. It's only when Peeta takes my other arm and screams in my ear that it's Johanna that I stop resisting and just run.
The five of us storm a path through the jungle. Beneath the trees, the dim moonlight dances on the waxy leaves, illuminating them in shades of black and green as the night begins to fade into a dark dawn sky. After a good half hour, Finnick pauses to lean on a rock, catching his breath.
"I think we've gone far enough," Finnick says. He looks to Beetee, who nods.
"They would be foolish to follow us in the dark." Beetee replies. I turn to Johanna, who is doubled over beside me, her face parallel with the ground as she recovers.
"What happened?" I ask. Johanna's voice is muffled and terse as she answers.
"I was on watch and Enobaria attacked me from behind." Johanna straightens up and for the first time, I can clearly see her face and the thin gash that crosses her jawline in a bloody line, as if someone aimed for her throat and missed. Johanna's eyes are wild and glint like steel in the dim light.
"Johanna's screaming woke me up and I caught Brutus in the arm before he could attack the rest of us. He's not dead, though- not even close." Finnick's voice is drawn as he closes the space between Johanna and himself and examines her wound. Johanna glares at him as he does so, but she is silent and doesn't resist. It takes but a minute for Finnick to finish and, as he steps away and we fall back into silence, Johanna places her hands on her hips.
"What are we going to do now?" She asks, her voice one of frustration. I look from person to person and, when it seems no one wants to speak, I raise my voice.
"Maybe we should go back to the beach." I say. The group looks at me in turn. After a moment, Beetee speaks up.
"We don't know what zone we're in or what we may have to face." He states, eyeing the rest of us. When no rebuttal comes after a few seconds, Johanna sighs dramatically.
"Well, let's not just stand here and wait for something to kill us, then." Johanna rolls her eyes at the rest of us before proceeding to stomp off into the tropics, tearing a new ragged hole in the forest with her ax. One by one, we fall in behind her- Beetee glancing at us, eyebrows raised, before following our leader in her wake; Peeta and I following close behind; Finnick in the rear, his trident dragging in his hand- and we begin our trek back to the beach.
With the exception of our footsteps, everything is sticky and sagging in the remnants of the heavy night air- even us. Within the protection of the tropical forest, there is no sign of the breeze the beach provides. We trudge along, sweat dribbling down our faces. Up ahead, Beetee pulls off his glasses and attempts to polish them on his bodysuit. The effort is in vain; our clothing is greasy and dusty and does little more than smear his lenses.
As we move past a towering tree, brushing past its dangling branches, a bird flutters from the sky and lands in the foliage a few feet away. I pay little attention to it, keeping my eyes on the forest ahead. That is, until it starts to shriek. In a fluid motion, we all whirl around to see it scream.
It has a voice of a woman, and it's not familiar. But that doesn't matter. I now know where we are.
I turn to look at Finnick, who meets my gaze uneasily, fear flashing across his face.
Then the world turns to sound, and the birds arrive.
It's just like last time, except the world is dark and the jabberjays fly like wraiths around us, screeching and casting faint shadows over the jungle. Prim is the first thing I hear, or at least, her voice is. But she is not alone. My mother's voice wails, as does Gale's. They aren't alone; I can hear Cinna's voice in the darkness, and even Effie's shrill tones ring in my ears. Somewhere, Rue calls out to me, and it may be her voice that breaks me down.
I screw my eyes shut, but they begin to leak and my hands start to shake. I know it's not real, but I don't care. I can't take the sound; the screams drill themselves into my skull and echo in my brain. I will never get used to it. I can't. Not here.
It takes time for me to calm down. My mind is hazy and I grit my teeth to contain the noise I feel in my throat. Slowly, when I think I can hold it together, I let my eyes open. The world is whipping around me, blowing past in waves of dim light. Slowly, I turn my head and look around.
The group is in chaos. Beetee is frozen, a statue in the havoc. His eyes dart from tree to tree, his face ashen, but he doesn't move. Finnick is crouched low, his hands up shielding his face from the sharp-beaked birds. Unlike last time, he does not run, but the crazed look in his eyes is the same, his face contorted as he watches the jabberjays circle.
Johanna, on the other hand, is all action; she lashes out at the birds, slicing the pulsing air with her ax. She shows no fear as she takes down the birds one by one, her anger consuming her, as per usual. With each passing second, she swings harder.
It takes me a few seconds to find Peeta. He is on the ground a few feet away, his body huddled in the open path. He is unmovable; a silent force in the terror that swarms the air above him. I can barely see the tears that drip gently down his pale face, half hidden by his hands. He's seen the jabberjays before but until now, he's never heard the voices calling him.
Pulling myself up, I put my hands over my head and shuffle the short distance over to Peeta, blocking out the screams as best as I can. When I reach him, I duck down beside him and wait. He ignores me, his body rigid and still. We stay like this for a long time, letting the hour pass. I can't say anything to make this better. It doesn't really matter if the voices are real or not. All I can do is sit and pretend it will be alright.
Finally, the screams begin to die away, as the hour ends and the birds fly off. It takes a few moments for the shock to die off and for everyone to collect themselves. Even though the noise is gone, my heart hasn't stopped pounding yet. Nonetheless, my walls are back up. Survival comes before sanity. Living before feeling. Even I know that.
Beside me, Peeta unravels from his tight ball. He falls back onto the path, his face blank and streaked as he breathes deeply. Gently, I wrap my arm through his and pull him to his feet. He complies easily, letting me hold him up as he calms down. I don't have any words to say- being scared does that to you. Instead, I take his hand, pulling him close.
Surprise crosses Peeta's face for a moment, before vacancy replaces it. This time, however, I can feel the tension leave him, his body relaxing. We stand in silence; there is no need for words.
I glance around the group. Finnick is grim as he stretches out his legs after being bent over for so long. I wonder if the cocky golden boy I met in the Capital even existed; his angled face wears sadness like it was made for him. Steady on his feet, Beetee looks up, examining the lightening sky. His brisk attitude has returned, although he is still paler than usual. Even Johanna, with all her rage and intensity, has nothing to say. She stands apart, wiping the blade of her axe in silence.
Eventually, Finnick motions into the brush.
"We should keep heading back." He says, his voice low. Wordlessly, he cuts into the brush and everyone follows. It doesn't take long for us to reach the beach. Emerging onto the sand, drafts of cold air envelope us as we walk back to where we had been sleeping earlier.
Upon the suggestion of sleep by Beetee, who offers to keep watch, we settle onto the sand. It is only an hour or two before daybreak, but I'll take any chance I can to forget the world for a while. I think Peeta feels the same way, because the moment he sinks onto the ground, he closes his eyes and falls asleep within seconds. I lay beside him and try to do the same.
All I can think of is the birds- flocks of the jabberjays fly through my mind, their screams echoing in my brain. I can hear the voices still calling me, dying out one by one until it's just Prim's voice. As the darkness comes to take me as well, only her voice remains calling for help, fragile and fading.
I'm trying, Prim. I'm trying.