Finally getting to post again! =] Thanks to everyone that favorited, followed or reviewed. This chapter has more Cato than the last one, but not nearly as much as we'll see in future chapters. I know it's a little rushed, but I'm so eager to get past the beginning and on to the fun stuff. Still, I hope you all enjoy this.
The Cornucopia was huge, much larger than it appeared on TV.
She was lost, astounded by its magnificence, at least until the bitter reality that if she wanted to survive past just the first five minutes of the Games she'd have to run for her life—immediately—set in.
She could see the excitement on the faces of most of the Careers, a savage smile that she could not fathom wearing. The others looked lost, with few exceptions. She could see it plainly that they didn't want to be there. They realized that they stood no chance. Her heart ached for them, knowing that there would be little that could be done to help them. They paused for the remainder of the countdown, hearts thundering within their chests with fear and adrenaline.
Then they were released.
She took off running as hard as she could, heading straight for the cluster of trees she saw just far enough ahead to make her feel desperate. Perhaps if she could lose the others she could survive past the first night.
She could hear the awful sound of people dying, the agonized sobs and cries of those with no hope She could also hear the wicked laughter of those still standing. An image came to mind to accompany the horrible squelching and gurgling that met her ears; she might as well have turned around to see her peers being hacked apart. Blood bubbled in her mind's eye, gushing faster than her breath was coming.
She pushed herself harder at the thought, wanting to put as much distance as possible between herself and the certain carnage.
It seemed hours that she ran, breath rasping desperately through abused lungs and out a dry mouth. Her limbs felt as if they were disconnected from her body; they no longer had even a semblance of sensation running through them. She knew that if she stopped, she wouldn't be able to force herself to move again and that the aches would set in again in earnest.
Despite this, by nightfall she had dropped to her knees, gasping hopelessly for breath. Running had never been her strong suit...
The sound of someone stomping through the trail just to her left startled her, and she backed up slowly, curling in on herself amid a pile of leaves, hoping against hope that no one could hear her shaking as each tremor racked her body with pain. Those Careers had a nasty talent for flushing out unsuspecting Tributes with little to no effort.
Those same Careers soon marched into her view, disjointed as it was because of the flourishing shrubbery she'd been fortunate enough to be close to. Still, it did not afford her much protection from their aura of pure malice. The sounds of their casual conversation made her bristle, and not just because of the words; they seemed almost certain that they would catch someone, whether they crept up silently or not. It was offensive.
Of course they'd be proud of themselves after something like that...
But one of them stopped suddenly, cocking his head to the side, a predatory grin on his face. Her heart stopped when she realized that it was the boy from the training room that had captivated her before. She was dimly aware that the others were asking him what he'd heard, but there wasn't enough room in her brain to consider fearing the others. Then, making her stomach lurch sickeningly, he replied, "Someone's here."
The others glanced around a bit, and one of the boys chuckled good-naturedly. "Relax, Cato. We've got plenty of time to track down District Twelve."
Cato? The name fit oddly well.
The teen grumbled something sullenly, but continued on with his companions.
A sigh of relief escaped her, even though it was plain from the frustrated glint in his eyes that he was unsatisfied with walking away.
She woke up the next morning, still burrowed in her hiding place. Every muscle in her body screamed protests at the slightest movement, and she couldn't help but groan aloud. But the pain had to be pushed aside; if she let it control her then she would be lost.
Hunger and thirst prevented her from remaining where she was, so she set out towards what appeared to be a greener part of the woods—and water. The burning thirst superseded even the hunger; it gripped her throat and tightened her mouth. Her lips felt like they were about to crack.
She found blessed moisture in a matter of a few hours, and couldn't stop herself from taking a few deep, greedy swallows though they hurt to have. Then she scanned the trees, hoping to catch sight of something edible. There was, to her great relief, a young apple tree not too far away. The fruits were small and tart, and it took three of them to satisfy the incessant growling in her stomach because of their lack of size.
She stuffed several more into the hood of her jacket, sorely wishing that she had at least a few of the simpler spoils from the Cornucopia.
She could feel the fire. It was blazing towards her, and she couldn't help but panic knowing she was being sadly outrun by both her fellow Tributes and the heat raging at her back.
The forest glowed with the dancing flames, brightening before giving way to a sizzling, flaming mess. Tree after tree fell to it, collapsing in a grand fashion and thereby condemning several of their peers.
The ground seemed to waver in her vision, which she eventually realized was the doing of the heat. She tried to keep a steady view on something—anything—but nothing seemed to want to remain still.
A sudden glint on the ground caught her eye in this haze. Snatching it as she passed, she stuffed it into her hood for further analysis at a later time.
Eventually she found herself safe, lying on cool, damp earth at least a few miles from the origin of the blaze. She was glad, realizing that Katniss Everdeen must've drawn the attention of the Gamemakers before guilt flushed her cheeks. What a rotten thing to think...even if it's true.
She reached back into her hood to take an apple even though her smoke-clogged lungs made her sick enough that she didn't want to even think of food, but a distinctive metallic clink distracted her. Recalling the glint on the ground she fished it out, eying it carefully.
All it was was a plain gold chain, obviously the token of one of the male Tributes. It went straight into her pocket; perhaps it would come in handly later.