Game on

"What do we do about Marvel?" I ask quietly. It's been a quiet day, but my stomach is rumbling. I haven't eaten since the tree and according to Cato, that was two days ago. We've been discussing our options for the past hour or so, arguing back and forth over where we should go and what we should be doing instead of arguing.

Cato appraises the boy in the mud critically. "We could just kill him now," he suggests thoughtfully and I punch his arm gently.

"No. We might need him later."

"Well what do you want to do with him? Sit here and baby him until he wakes up?"

"I don't know, I'm just saying, he could be useful later on. You know, when we start fighting the other tributes."

The boy in question moans in his sleep, still completely dead to the world.

"Clove, let's think rationally for a second here. If the positions were reversed-"

"But they aren't."

"But if they were-"

"They're not Cato-"

"Shut up. Do you really think that he would spare our lives if the shoe was on the other foot? Let's face it. He's not from our District."

"But he's a Career. And Brutus said-"

"Screw Brutus! Are you stupid or something? Brutus doesn't give a fuck about us Clove! He hasn't sent us a god damned thing since we got here. We've been here for five days already and we've been sent nothing. That bitch from 12? She's got burn cream from her mentor. And she's from 12, Clove. 12. 12 gets expensive gifts that are giving her an edge on us, and we have nothing. So get it into your thick skull and stop whining over what Brutus said. You're just being pathetic."

He spits the last word at me and I rock back on my heels like he'd slapped me. It hurts almost as much as if he did.

"Fuck you," is all I say and I grab my gear and storm off into the trees.

I throw a knife at anything that moves and in an hour I have a nice collection of squirrels and fat chicken like birds. I walk back to the clearing, just following the path of broken branches I'd made in my fit of rage.

Cato is sitting with his arms folded across his chest, staring at the place where I left with the angriest expression I've ever seen on his face. I don't think I'll be seeing soft Cato any time soon. I walk into the clearing and just stand there, glaring coolly at Cato until he finally breaks my gaze. Without a word he stalks over to me and I can't help but shiver involuntarily in fear. He raises his hand and for a split second I think he's going to hit me again until he reaches behind me a takes some of the fatter of my kills.

"Throw the rest back. We'll eat these tonight and then tomorrow we'll go back to the Cornucopia where there are more supplies. If Marvel's awake by then, he can come too. If he's not, we leave him here, end of."

I begin to protest but he shakes his head, grabbing my hand and pulling me roughly into his chest. With his free hand he covers my mouth and I sigh, deciding to wait it out.

"I risked my life saving him once. I won't put our lives in jeopardy to save him again. If he's not awake at dawn he can fend for himself or die trying. He isn't our problem."

I look up at him and nod slowly. He didn't move his hand, just stood there looking down at me with his eyes narrowed as if he thinks I'll argue. Instead, I part my lips beneath his hand and run my tongue across his skin.

He yelped as if I had bitten him and pulled back his hand, glaring at me in disgust. I start to laugh, mostly at his expression, and double over, clutching my stomach. I see his feet take a shocked step backwards and laugh harder. When his feet come closer, I slowly straighten, still laughing like a complete nut case and I see him staring at me in wonder. I reach up and playfully push his lips into a smile and he grabs my hands, catching them gently and engulfing them in his own.

"What's so funny?" he asked, fighting to keep a straight face.

"You are," I only just manage to reply before a new round of giggles takes over.

I know he's confused but I don't care. I laugh on and on, only getting louder when he starts to chuckle too. And then we're both laughing and it's not because anything is particularly funny, but just because we can. Because we were alive in this moment of the games, even though we were surrounded by so much death. Because if we weren't laughing we would probably be fighting. And if we where fighting, we probably wouldn't have noticed the small silver parachute that slowly floated down from the trees.

We both rush over to it, still giggling and chuckling like school kids and I tear the parachute off without thinking, leaving Cato to open it.

Inside is a dream come true. Soup, a pack of bacon and some dried apple pieces. I'm relieved, one because it means that Brutus does care (or he didn't and Enobria sent it), two because we have sponsors, and three, because we have food. Real food. Not dead squirrels that I've killed with my knife. There are no fur and blood and guts and bone in this food. We wouldn't have to skin it or cook it over a fire. Well, the soup maybe but I was so hungry I started wolfing it down cold while Cato ripped into the bacon and apple pieces. We swap over quickly, him finishing the soup and me the bacon and apple.

I shoot a guilty look at Marvel but he's still deeply asleep, twitching in agitation as he dreams of unpleasant things.

"I'm going to apologise for Cato because we all know he's too proud to do it himself. Thank you Brutus and Enobria!" I shout to the sky's, giddy now that my belly has been filled. I hear Cato laugh and he drags me over to him, pulling me into my lap.

"Go to sleep Clove. It's a big day tomorrow."

"Wake me in a couple hours."

"Sure, whatever."

I know he'll never do it but I say it anyway, because I want him to know the options there. It wouldn't be fair if he had to stay up all night before we moved out at dawn. I wait until they've played the anthem but there are no faces in the sky tonight. Those in the Capitol must be getting restless. There needs to be a death, and soon, or the Game Makers would instigate their own little plot to create one themselves. I quickly count for who's left: Marvel, Cato and I, the boy from 3, the girl from 5, the boy from 10, and both from 11 and 12. Lover Boy would be on his way out soon according to Cato and I had no doubt he in my mind that he was right. Still, we had 8 more to go. It was about to get serious.

Game on.

A few hours passed by the time Cato roused me. I opened my eyes blearily and looked at Marvel first, who was still dead to the world, before titling my head back to see Cato.

"You look terrible," I croak quietly, my mouth dry from the lack of water. He let me sit up and get comfortable before lying down, his head in my lap.

"Wake me at dawn," is all he said before he closed his eyes and began to snore quietly. I allow myself some time to wake up, massaging my neck gently to try to alleviate the tension that was building there. But the pain from the Tracker Jacker sting became too much so I dropped my hand to Cato's head, stroking his hair gently while he slept. I had been wrong with my previous assumption. Soft Cato was always there, just hidden behind his mask of brutality. But when he slept, all that was left was the softer side, his almost permanent scowl being replaced by a look of fearful innocence as he dreamed. I wondered vaguely what he dreamed of before I heard it.

Or rather, when I didn't hear it. I reached for my knife but before I could do anything, Marvel had a spear in his hand and was aiming for my head. Unlike Glimmer, he was actually alright with weapons.

"Where is she?" he spat angrily.

I didn't answer straight away. My eyes never left his as I slowly lifted Cato from my lap and lay his head gently onto the floor, and he moaned in his sleep at the movement.

"Where is who?" I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. I'm still moving slowly as I push myself to my feet and take a few steps away from Cato, leaving him unprotected. But Marvel is following me, completely ignoring the larger boy and for that, I'm grateful.

I shoot a glance at Cato, just to make sure he is still sleeping, and that moment of distraction is enough for Marvel to barrel into me and shove me roughly up against a tree, the tip of his spear pressed uncomfortably close to my throat.

"Glimmer. Where is she."

"She's dead."

"No."

"Yes. Tracker Jackers. Same as 4."

"No!"

Roared this time and it's loud enough to wake Cato. He sucks in a deep breath and sits up slowly, his eyes growing wide as he sees what's going on. He starts to reach for his sword but I shake my head with the tiniest of movements. Not yet.

"She tripped at the tree and couldn't get away in time. I'm sorry Marvel. She's gone."

The cry that came from his lips is more anguished this time and I sigh, brushing away the spear and taking it from his hands. Cato makes me his way over, his eyes hard and an unreadable expression on his face.

"We're going back to the Cornucopia at dawn. If you want to come with us, you are welcome too. But if you don't shut up, I'll kill you now."

I glare at Cato. It's not like he was known for being nice but the boy had just lost his District partner, probably the last thing that could remind him of home. I tilt Marvel's head down so his watery eyes focus on me.

"Did she suffer?" he asks before I can say anything and I falter before deciding the truth would probably be the best option.

"Yes."

Apparently it wasn't the best option because he began to howl in despair, loud enough to disturb the night birds that roosted in the trees that surrounded us. Cato sighed in exasperation, pulling the boy into a headlock and covering his mouth and nose. He looked almost bored as the smaller boy tried to struggle for a moment before he went limp in his arms and I looked at him in shock.

"He's not dead. Just temporarily knocked out. He'll be quiet this way at least," he said defensively and I shake my head, pushing past him to get our gear ready. I'm left to carry two of the packs, one on each shoulder, and Cato gets the last one, tossing the limp boy over his shoulder carelessly.

The sun is beginning to rise as we start off into the trees, keeping our weapons of choice at the ready. We only stop once, when we come across the sound of someone struggling through the woods. I get my knife ready and lay the packs down gently, then wait for whoever it is to appear.

From the way he's limping, I know it's the boy from 10 immediately. He had been crippled at the reaping and had only made his injury worse during the training. I wondered how he had survived for this long before shrugging and throwing my knife. He didn't see it coming. The boom of the cannon rang through the air and I grabbed both of my packs, slipping them back onto my shoulders before hurrying forward to retrieve my knife. I wasn't going to lose another one.

We must have been travelling in a wide circle without even realising, because we reach the edge of the forest well before midday. I throw my arm out when we get to the edge of the trees, staring curiously out to where the pedestals are. Someone is crouched at the base of them and is digging fervently, looking around every so often as if he's scared someone might come and kill him as he worked. In our current situation, it's not that crazy an idea. I lean up against a tree and we watch him as he finally pulls out something and shouts in glee. I squint under the glare of the sun and let out a small gasp of surprise. It's the mines that were used to blow people sky high when they stepped off their pedestals too early in the beginning of the games.

"It's number 3," I whisper to Cato excitedly. He just stares at me blankly.

"Oh come on, District 3! Electronics! They work in the factories!"

I can see from his expression he still doesn't get it and I sigh, pointing to the boy in exasperation.

"Bombs! We could get him as our ally and he can help us. Look at him, he's smart. He's already dug out 5 of the bombs, and we could use them!"

"Then why don't we just go get them and kill him now. There's 5, and once he's dead we can use them on 5 of the tributes. Lover Boys on his way out so we could use one for this lug, and I'm thinking a little something special for 12."

He reaches up and rubs under his eye where he was stung, setting his jaw tightly.

"But they won't be active. After the minute at the start they get turned off. He could turn them on for us."

"Clove..."

I can tell he doesn't think it's a good idea but I think it's perfect. So before he can protest further I run from the trees, getting my knife ready. The boy from 3 looks up and sees me, dropping the sixth bomb in terror and starting to bolt. But I'm faster, even with two full packs on my back and I lunge at him, landing on his back and sending him sprawling.

I put my knife at his throat and his eyes bulge, darting from side to side to find an escape.

"Can you make the bombs active again?" I ask curiously, tracing gentle patterns across his back of his neck with my knife. He gulped in terror and turned his head so he could meet my eyes slowly, nodding once.

"Show me."

I let him up and follow him back to the last bomb he's dug up. He crouched down in front of it and began to fiddle with the bottom of it for a while.

In my peripheral vision I can see Cato slowly step from the trees and make his way over to us; just his presence makes the boy start to shake in terror. I roll my eyes and lean forward to cuff the back of his head, hard.

"Ignore Cato and work. He won't hurt you."

I shoot Cato a pointed look and he glared at me before lowering his sword. This seems to relax 3 slightly and he begins to work again. After a few minutes he shows me the bomb slowly and I notice it's lit up and seems to be working again. I look to Cato and he nods with a heavy sigh and I grin, clapping my hands in excitement.

"Can you turn all of them on?"

"Of course."

"Excellent! Because I have an idea."

The day passes quickly but I don't mind. We put our packs and the knocked out Marvel at the base of one of the pedestals that has already had its mine removed and get to work shifting all the remaining packs and weapons into a huge pyramid in the middle of the Cornucopia. 3 works tirelessly digging up the mines and putting them into a small pile next to our packs. When we're all finished Cato and I dig small holes where he instructs us to and when they're deep enough, he puts in a mine, covering it up slowly with enough dirt to hide it from view. Night begins to fall by the time we're finished and I'm quite pleased with the result. Even Cato seems impressed, but he doesn't say anything, just goes to collect our packs and Marvel who is starting to stir. I tie him up to one of the crates so he doesn't panic and bolt when he wakes and then sort through some of the food that Cato has laid out in a mini feast for us. I pile a whole bunch of food in front of me and then split it in two, giving the larger portion to Cato and he laughs, both of us remembering Enobria.

Marvel woke up a little later but has the good grace to not struggle and I go to set him free, explaining the bombs to him as we walk back to the food. No-one speaks as we eat and when it's all finished we set up some tents for the night ahead. Marvel takes the first watch because he's slept all day and Cato pulls me into one of the tents without a word. There's a single sleeping bag inside but neither of us care, sliding in and curling up around each other. We're asleep almost instantly and I can almost imagine that we're back in the Capitol in our apartment, sleeping with no worries about dying.

Of course, in the Hunger Games, such a thing would be impossible.

Marvel wakes us later, urging us out into the night. He starts to argue about the watch and I feel my anger rising. Had he really just woken us to complain? 3 was sitting a few feet away, fiddling with a piece of plastic. I tune Marvel out, relaxing into Cato's side when he jumps, yelling something and pointing to the woods. I turn and follow his finger and feel my spirits rise as I see a thick plume of smoke rising from the trees.

"God, don't they learn?" I say excitedly, reaching to my waist where I've hooked a knife. "Who's going?" Personally, I wanted to go with Cato. Marvel annoyed me and 3 seemed pretty useless. It was a bit like having a male Glimmer, although he was a hell of a lot more useful than Glimmer had ever been. And he certainly didn't complain half as much.

"All of us should. But leave 3 here. We need someone to guard our stuff," Marvel says, shooting the boy a harsh look.

"He's coming. We need him in the woods, and his job here's done anyway. No-one can touch those supplies," Cato growls, and Marvel has the good sense not to argue, but he does keep going.

"What about Lover Boy?"

"I keep telling you, forget about him. I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet. At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us. Come on."

He thrusts a spear that was lying around near our camp into 3's hands and we set off at a run. Before we reach the trees, Cato stops us and says in a loud clear voice so that there is no way anyone of us can misinterpret it:

"When we find her, I kill her in my own way, and no-one interferes."

We run through the trees for a good half hour until we reach the camp site and I stare at the fire in front of us, completely confused.

"Who makes a bonfire this big in the Games?" I ask in exasperation, kicking a stray stick into the flames.

It's just a hug pile of sticks and green foliage all bundled up and I slowly understand what it is. "It's a diver-" I start to say but Cato has already taken off, disgruntled that there is no-one here and eager for blood. Because in the distance, there is another thick plume of smoke rising. I sprint after him, an easy task since he has left such destruction in his wake, but when we reach the next fire, we're met with the same sight. He starts to turn in circles, searching for the instigator of the fires and it takes a lot of shouting for him to stop turning and look at me.

"Cato! For fucks sake! It's just a diversion. They wanted us away from the camp. Come on, let's go back," I plead. He shakes his head.

"They can't touch the supplies. They'll be blown to smithereens. But whoever lit the fire has got to be around here. They can't have gotten far."

His eyes dart around to the trees and I sigh, turning slowly to Marvel as Cato resumes his manic circles.

"Set up some traps in the nearby area, would you? And take 3. I'll try and get Cato back to camp or something."

Marvel nodded, heading off into the woods with 3 trailing behind him. I grab Cato's forearm and he tenses for a moment before glaring down at me.

"Let's go. Whoever wanted us away from camp probably has an accomplice that lit the fires. We should start heading back."

"There might be more."

"And there might not be. Come on Cato, let's just-"

"We should just check the woods a bit longer. The supplies aren't going anywhere."

"Cato-"

"Great, let's go!"

God he was annoying sometimes. But I give in, because I figure the quicker he realises that there is no-one here, the quicker he will get tired and go back to the supplies. There's a niggling feeling in my gut that tells me we should have left 3 there to watch over the supplies and as a few hours pass and we find nothing, my unease grows. We walk back to the clearing where the second fire was lit and find Marvel and 3 already there, silent and staring into the dying flames.

"Come on, let's get back. There's no-one he-"

Before I can even finish my sentence there's a huge bang and it feels like the whole ground is shaking. I instinctively turn to where the Cornucopia rises above the trees and I gasp at the mushroom of fire that has spreads up into the sky. The bangs continue long after we have started running, and as we near the edge of the forest they begin to subside, one going off every few minutes or so.

When we burst from the cover of the trees I yell in despair. All of the supplies that we had spent all day collecting and counting and moving into the pyramid have been blown sky high. From a glance I can find nothing in the rubble. I slow down to a walk when we get closer and kick at the bits of broken weapons that littered the ground. Cato is in full rage mode; he's yelling something awful and pulling at his air, beating the ground with his fists. I don't dare go closer until 3 has declared the mines all detonated and then Marvel and I slowly step forward and pick through the mess, looking for something to salvage in all the wreckage. Cato joins us, entering stage two of his rage mode: the tantrum stage. He's kicking various containers and other things from the rubble and shouting terrible, horrible things. And then he rounds on 3.

"This is your fault!"

"No- no I swear, I swear I didn't know!"

"What do you mean you didn't know? You didn't know that your stupid mines would blow up everything? We have nothing now!"

I stop what I'm doing and turn to watch. 3 is trembling from head to foot, and honestly it's amazing he's still alive. I'd pulled a few Tracker Jackers from him and Cato had backhanded me. This kid pretty much got our entire lot of supplies blown up. And Cato was obviously not in a forgiving mood. 3 seemed to realise this too and he started to turn and run. But Cato is too fast. He reached out and grabbed the smaller boy, pulling him in. In one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around his neck and twisted it viscously. The cannon sounded and the boy went limp, flopping onto the ground when Cato lets him go. He rounds on us and then he's shouting again. But I've had enough. I had a head ache, I was hungry again, I'd wasted my night searching the woods for a Tribute who was just toying with us and Cato yelling at me was doing nothing to improve my temper.

"Cato, Cato! Cato, listen to me!"

I slap him as hard as I can across the face and he stops shouting, staring down at me in shock. I glare at him, not backing down because his temper tantrum was really grating on my last nerve.

"Stop yelling at us and just listen, for gods sake. Whoever blew up our supplies is probably dead anyway."

This catches his attention, probably more than the slap had. If he wasn't being such a whiny brat I would probably feel a bit more guilty about the red hand print that is starting to appear on his cheek.

"What do you mean they're probably dead?"

Marvel walked over uncertainly and together we point at the sky. Cato just stares at us in confusion and I sigh.

"Whoever got close enough to set off the mines would have blown themselves up too."

"But there wasn't a cannon!"

I'm considering slapping him again and Marvel obviously sees this because he's stepped in between us, a solid barrier.

"We wouldn't have heard them because of the explosions," he explains slowly, using a similar tone that a teacher would when explaining a simple concept to a small child. Cato's shoulders slump in acceptance and he joins us as we hunt through the rubble. But the only thing that seems to have survived the wreck is anything we have in our packs at the time. And suddenly I'm glad I'd lined my jacket with knives and stuffed my bag with food and a blanket. At least I could survive with that.

"Whoever did this had to have a helper. Someone who was in the woods that lit the fires. I say we go track them down and kill them before the sun comes up," I murmur to Cato. He nodded silently and went to grab his pack, checking everything is in order before he called Marvel over. If whoever had helped blow up our supplies thought we were going to give up now that we no-one longer had all of the resources we needed, they had another thing coming. It was truly game on now.

"Get your gear ready, we're going hunting."

In Cato's pack we find two pairs of glasses, the kind that helps the user see in complete darkness, and he hands me a pair, slipping the other on himself. Marvel grabbed a branch and quickly lit it on fire as we set off into the night, each going separate directions to cover more ground.

The theory is that no-one would still be awake at this time, asides from whoever lit the fires. I'm a little worried though because during the trainings, the long hours of school back home and for every night and day I've spent in the Arena, I have never once been alone. It's a little spooky at first and every twig that snaps makes me jump. I'm starting to give up and go find the others when I hear Marvel shouting with glee somewhere to my right. I practically sprint through the trees to find him.

He's standing in the middle of a clearing, staring down at something struggling in a large fishing net that has been stuck into the ground. I make my way over slowly and realise it's the girl from 11, looking absolutely terrified.

I find I can't even look at her, so young and tiny and defenceless.

"What's she doing?" I ask blankly. Marvel looks a little disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm but he's practically jumping for joy and he brushes it off.

"She's the one who set all the fires! One of the traps we set earlier caught her! Oh, this is fantastic! Cato! Hey, Cato!"

I slap my hand across his mouth in agitation. "Shut up you idiot! We're not the only ones in this forest. Why didn't you just kill her?"

Her eyes widen in fear and a tiny squeal escapes her mouth. My heart pulls for her but I know I shouldn't care. Because its the Hunger Games and for Cato to win, everyone else must die. Including her. No matter how sweet and innocent she was.

"I wanted you and Cato to be here." He said it as if the answer was obvious and I stop, completely thrown for a moment.

"Why do Cato and I have to be here? We aren't your guardians."

"You didn't think I killed 8 on the first night." I sigh and shake my head.

"That's because you didn't you idiot. You cut her up, sure. But you didn't kill her, Lover Boy did."

"No way! She would have died for sure if Lover Boy didn't go back!"

"Yeah, she would have died slowly and it would have taken all night. We might be Careers, Marvel, but that doesn't mean that we have to make stupid people suffer. Unless they're really stupid and helped someone blow up all out food."

I slowly turn to face 11 and she looks like she might start crying.

"So what do we do?"

"Well, you've taken too long to kill her now. Just leave her here. She can either starve to death or be eaten by wild dogs. I hear they like to chew on little girls," I sneer, my eyes narrowing. Marvel looks like he's about to protest but I grab him and throw him roughly into a tree.

"Don't argue with me Marvel. I'm tired, I have a headache and it's fucking cold. Leave her and let's go, before I decide to let her go and leave you here instead."

He glared at me and shrugged off my hands, storming off into the trees. He stops though, only a few paces away from the clearing.

"I'm staying here. It's the final 6 now anyway, so we should think about parting ways soon anyway."

I nod slowly and head off through the trees before looking back and catching his eye.

"Good luck, District 1."

"And may the odds be ever in your favour, District 2."

And then there were 2.