Oh sparks, sparks, sparks. I wince as the tribute on screen digs through the rocks to clear out a hiding space, cutting open her hands in the process. She needs to move faster, the sun is going down, and now she has to be careful about not leaving a blood trail. Shit shit shit. It's as if Wiress can hear my thoughts, she only pauses for a moment before she takes off her light jacket and wraps it around her hands. My jaw unclenches only slightly, there are still entirely too many variables for me to relax. Too much danger.
Next to me, Elyse signals for an avox to come by with a tray of drinks and nods at me to take one. I only do so in order to avoid an argument. "She's not the boy, Beetee," Elyse murmurs. "She's not your tribute." She isn't, not technically anyway, but Elyse hasn't been much of a mentor in my opinion. Not cool, detached Elyse. She stays sober and alert, so she's better than many, but she is all business, all advice and no humanity. I was the one comforting both tributes that first evening, the one who heard them cry and learned about their families and what they had wanted out of life. One of those children is already dead. Wiress is still alive and I am absolutely frantic to keep her that way. Elyse's calmness is driving me crazy.
I don't say anything, instead I keep my eyes on our screen, on Wiress settling in her little fort of rocks, covering the entrance so she can't be seen. She's good at this, covering the little details that so often get people killed. She's smart. When I spoke to her, her thoughts flitted from topic to topic but the depth of her knowledge was just as impressive as the breadth. I can picture possibilities for how her life could have gone, I'm sure she could do any job she wanted, her looks and easy good humor would ensure her choice of mate, her soft voice and loving heart would make her a good mother…
The fact that I think these kinds of things is the difference between Elyse and I. I guarantee that she has never once considered what Wiress' life could have been. Ever since my tribute died yesterday -the tribute Elyse refers to simply as the boy but I can't think of as anything other than Mikhail, Mikhail of the brown eyes and no specific talent other than being a fourteen year old boy who deserved to live and didn't get to- I'm considering it all too much. I'm thinking about Wiress a bit too much. She has a chance to live and I will help her all I can, and every single year I want District 3 to win but also she's touched me a bit deeper and I don't think I've ever wanted a specific tribute to win as much as with her.
I fiddle with the mentor tablet at our station, opening the sponsorship screen. "Stop it." I hadn't realized Elyse was standing behind me, arms crossed and staring daggers at the back of my head.
"Stop what?"
"She's my tribute. No interference unless I ask, got it?"
"Yeah." I hate it, but I'll keep away. I hate it.
"She needs someone with a cool head, which you most emphatically do not have right now. Go get a drink or some sleep or something." She raises her eyebrows at me as though she is a stern mother, not another killer only eight years older than me. I find myself obeying automatically anyway. There's food at the back of the room, and I head there but jerk around to the screens at any loud noise. Is Wiress safe? Have they found her hiding spot? Where there mutts around that smelled the blood from her hands? Is she hungry? Thirsty? Tired? Lonely? I stare at the table of food without interest. I can't eat at a time like this. I can't eat when Wiress has nothing. There wasn't any food or any water in the tiny pack she grabbed. Just a little knife useless in combat, the light jacket, matches, and an empty canteen.
My thoughts are troubled, but I get some sleep in an armchair. It's dreamless, which is a blessing. I awake to a cannon blast and the gentle murmuring of the mentor room. I'm slightly panicked until I seek out Wiress on screen, slowly trekking over the rocks. She's moving slowly, tiredly. Low energy.
I make my way to the District 3 station. Elyse has her tablet out, but she seems unconcerned that Wiress looks like she is about to drop.
"Are you sending her anything to eat?" I try to keep my voice calm so Elyse won't hear my panic.
"No." She doesn't even look up. I wait. We're not really partners in mentoring, but we aren't working at cross purposes either, so she doesn't have any good reason not to share her strategy with me. "I'm sending cord."
"Cord?" I don't mean to be an ass, but my disdain comes through. "What good will that do? There's almost no wildlife in this arena, nothing to snare and eat anyway."
"It's not for wildlife, Beetee." Elyse says carefully, as one would explain to a child. "She hasn't made any kills yet, the Capitol will be bored. We planned this together." I lean in to watch as Elyse confirms the purchase. It will be in the arena momentarily.
"There isn't enough money for you to send any food if she can't find any tonight. It's been several days, she needs it." There's a whine in the back of my voice I can't keep out. I hate the idea of a fighter like Wiress dying from starvation. It feels so weak.
"One exciting kill will refill the sponsorship funds and then some. Sparks, Beetee, you're usually better than this. Keep your mind clear."
"I just don't see what she can do with plain cord."
Elyse turns, a smile playing on her lips. "All that time getting to know her and you're not even aware of her skills?"
I frown at her. "We talked about family...hopes."
"Well, I talked about important things. I asked her about her skills. Now watch." She motions to the blur of silver on the screen, landing at Wiress' feet. She hasn't spoken since she entered the arena, but a rough giggle now escapes her lips. She gets to work immediately, and I reach out to brush her image on our small screen before I can even stop myself. I'm still and silent, just watching her as she tests the tension of the cord and begins to build. I don't recognize what she does, her fingers move quickly, creating knots and pulleys. It's not arrogance to say I'm the smartest person alive, just the truth, but at the moment I'm just not following.
An hour later, she has three things at her feet, things I can only label as 'contraptions'. Her eyes scan her surroundings, searching for the perfect spots, and she carefully connects portions of her contraptions to the scrubby little trees. She then builds a fire, the kindling and wood is set up properly, but she starts each time the match catches, her hands shaking enough that it burns out.
"Come on, girl," Elyse mutters.
"She's from the factories," I tell her. "Of course she's afraid of fire." I'm smug, sure, but Elyse had intimated that knowing the tribute's background was useless.
"I know. She also spent several hours at the fire station last week. Shut up."
The fire finally lights, Wiress smiles at it but I'm dismayed because it's a smokey fire. Her wood must be wet somehow. There are already rustles on the other screens as tributes notice the smoke. Elyse grabs my arm before I move and glares at me. "Stop."
Wiress' tiny knife is at the ready, she tenses up as the first tribute arrives. A small moan escapes my throat when I see that it's the boy from District 11. He's tall and has fifty or sixty pounds on her easily. Even without a weapon, he would be absolutely deadly, but he's also brandishing a knife with a wide blade, the kind used for imprecise slashing and hacking. It doesn't require any skill to wield a knife like that. He sees her and runs towards her, only to be stopped when he hits her cord. However she connected it to the trees snaps it up with great velocity, hitting him multiple times in the chest, neck, face. The tribute shrieks, blinded by blood trickling down his forehead. I wait for Wiress to make some sort of killing blow, but she calmly grabs his dropped knife and backs away. He runs away from her footsteps, and she lets him get away.
Injuring another tribute is helpful, but she should have finished him off if she wanted sponsors. I open my mouth to question Elyse and she shakes her head, motioning back to the screen, where the pair from District Two are carefully stalking towards the fire. The bloody cord is now loose on the ground, just harmless twine now. They silently signal with head movements so the girl circles around to Wiress' back. I'm breathing heavily and then not at all as the tension mounts in my chest. I would give anything to be able to warn Wiress, to be able to help her. "Breathe," Elyse whispers. I don't know if she means me, Wiress, or herself.
The girl from District 2 readies a throwing knife, aiming at the vulnerable back of Wiress' neck, just as Wiress falls to the ground, ruining the shot and allowing more tension cord to whip through her clearing. It's fast, the tension causing it to easily slice through human flesh. It went right through the girl's wrist where she held up the knife, and partially through her neck. The cannon fires. Wiress frowns at there only being one, and inches towards where the boy stood, knife at the ready. The cord hit the girl first, had slowed by the time it reached him. Since he is taller, it only got him in the chest, but it still ripped through meat and ribs. He's bleeding on the rocks, bleeding and groaning, and Wiress shushes him gently as she puts him out of his misery. I can see her muscles relax when the second cannon fires.
I can finally breathe again.
"Oh, nice." Elyse grins. Messages are popping up on her tablet, sponsors inquiring about Wiress, offering funds and deals. I stand up to see better. If Elyse has her choice, there might be a few with no strings attached. That would be perfect.
"Is there-" Elyse sighs at the sound of my voice and covers the tablet with her arm so I can't see.
"You can be as hovering and creepy as you want once I bring her home. Now go away."
"I'm being creepy?" I'm hovering, sure, but it's not creepy...I'm just trying to keep her alive. I'm trying to help.
"Yes, Beetee!" Elyse is clearly losing her patience with me, she pushes me away from her chair and turns back to the screen. "I get it, you like her, you're into her, fine. If you want her to survive so you can try to steal kisses, let me do my job."
I leave mostly because I'm so shocked by her words. Obviously with our ages and genders being what they are, people will make assumptions. People will misread my interest. I try to form my side of the argument as I make myself a plate of food and as I force each dry bite down. I'm not interested in food. I'm interested in Wiress' survival. I'm interested in Wiress. Ugh. If I want to be absolutely honest with myself, and I should be, I'm a very logical man and Elyse scolding me as being emotional is rubbing me the wrong way, if I am truly honest, then yes if Wiress were to live, then she is exactly the type of person I could see myself getting along with, she might be a future romantic partner, she would certainly be a part of my life. However, I think I am rational and capable enough of understanding that those thoughts need to be left out of matters of life and death such as this one. I spend the whole next day out of the mentor room, working on one of my projects. There's a television showing the main Hunger Games feed, but I am away from the temptation of analyzing Wiress' every small movement.
I have a more difficult time keeping away when I re-enter the mentor room. The number of tributes has gone down considerably, with Wiress as one of the most active killers. Still, every time it looks as though she will cross paths with another tribute, I tense up. A tussle with two girls, girls whose names or districts I don't even register as I watch, leaves Wiress with a bloody forearm and two more kills. I rush over to Elyse, even though I know perfectly well that she's seen it. "She needs bandages."
Elyse speaks to me like I'm dumb, calmly reminding me that I was gone the day before and have no idea that Wiress has been hoarding the supplies of everyone she killed. She apparently has bandages and antibiotic cream as well. My heart remains in my throat until Wiress is properly bandaged up and back on the move.
"Emotional." Elyse shakes her head at me.
"I'm not. It's just common sense. She needed to bind her wound."
She raises her eyebrows and flips her long hair over her shoulder. "You saw her hungry so you wanted to send food, you saw her in danger and you wanted me to waste our money on that when she is perfectly capable on her own. You're not thinking of the big picture because you care about all of her little hurts." This is the softest I've ever seen her, almost motherly as she talks to me. "If you want her for keeps, I need to do this my way."
"You're making me sound sleazy, Elyse."
"Oh I am?" I can't tell if she's mocking me or teasing me. We like each other alright but I don't make friends easily. Or at all, really.
"Really, Elyse! Just because she's an eighteen year old girl-"
She interrupts me. "-that you find attractive and interesting and are so emotionally invested in that you can't stay calm. An eighteen year old woman you seem to want to survive so you can work with her and live by her and make little nerdy babies with her." Mocking. She's definitely mocking me. I glare at her and walk away.
"I'll bring her home," she calls after me. I ignore her in favor of sitting in the back of the room and getting drunk.
I don't really know if time passes, just that I can't watch. I can't watch Wiress if I can't help her. Everything is an utter blur and I accept a few murmurs of congratulations before anything actually registers.
The anthem is playing, and my brain can't figure out where it's coming from. My mouth feels dry and I trip over my own feet as I try to stand. My eyes go immediately to the screens, and they all show the same thing. Woman. Short dark hair. Tears in her eyes. A hovercraft. It comes together very slowly. Wiress.
Wiress has won. My hands cover my mouth, agape in surprise. She's alive. She'll stay alive. I can see her again. Soon, even.
"A cool head, Tesla." Elyse swats at my head with her papers as she walks by.