Starbright Victor
Oran Gray
Chapter Seven: This Is My Plan
I dream of my sisters that night. Indigo combs Azura's hair, singing a song my mother used to sing to me. Azura does not laugh or smile the way her sister does, but I know she is happy. I can see it in her eyes.
I wake up to find Altaira snuggled up against my chest. I blink a few times, trying to figure out how this had happened. Memories from last night come flooding back. I remember the way I'd freaked out, worrying that I'd never experience my first kiss if I am to die in the arena. The way I'd asked for her permission, and the way she'd said yes. The way she'd fallen asleep in my arms, her hair smelling of flowers, reminding me of the harvest.
I take a long look at the girl before me. She would be sixteen at most, although she seems as young as my sisters as she sleeps. Her long golden hair shines under the sunlight streaming into our cave. Her eyes are closed now, but I remember them to be the shade of a sparkling sapphire gem.
But what does this girl mean to me?
She stirs; her face tired and groggy with a frown not much different that a grumpy toddler's etched onto her face. I smile sleepily at her, forgetting where we are for just a moment. She's about to grin back when…
She starts laughing uncontrollably.
"What?" I hiss, trying not to grin at the look on her face.
"Your hair!" she chokes out between guffaws. "It's sticking up all over the place!"
I hastily flatten it, hiding my embarrassment by claiming I'm going to go drink some water from the stream. She stops laughing immediately, reminded once again of where we are.
I find the small stream undisturbed, check the trees around our cave for any sign of movement, see none and lean down to gulp in the cold liquid. Last night, I'd said to Altaira that we'd go hunting today, so I ignore the aching pain in my gut. For now, I attempt to focus on nothing but satisfying my thirst.
But as the cool, satisfying water glides down my dry, parched throat, my mind wanders. Would Altaira expect some kind of relationship now? I didn't want a relationship; I wanted to win the Games. And to win the Games, I must not become attached to others.
I'm considering this when I hear a faint rustling in the distance. I try to remain calm, not alerting the intruder to the fact that I know about their presence. After all, it could just be an animal.
No, two footfalls… definitely a tribute.
I turn just as an arrow lodges itself into the material of my trousers, narrowly missing my leg. I fall backwards to the ground, trapped.
I can see my attacker now, a tall, slender girl from District Nine. The hunting district. I'd seen her archery skills in training, she never missed. But then why didn't she aim to kill?
"Are you alone?" she snaps, her voice low and menacing, standing over me, her makeshift bow loaded with a new arrow, pointed directly at my skull. She's about seventeen, a little older than Altaira. Her hair is a deep, fiery red and is cropped messily to sit at her jaw. She too, like my ally, has blue eyes, although these eyes are as pale blue as the winter skies back home.
"Are you deaf, or just stupid?"
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Altaira crouching behind a bush, her knife ready. She motions to me to keep quiet, and then taps her ear. She wants me to listen to what she has to say, I realize.
"I'm alone," I state, trying to keep my voice even.
"Good. I'm Chouette, but you can just call me Cho," she lowers her bow a little, cocking an eyebrow at me. "And you are?"
I'm confused.
"You want something," I say, dangerously ignoring her question.
Cho nods. "Your name."
I smirk. "You shoot an arrow at my trousers, pinning me to the ground, aim an arrow at my head, and then question me only my name? I'm sorry, but I'm pretty damn sure that you want something else."
As I say this, my eyes flicker to where Altaira crouches, watching us. Why don't you just kill her already?
Unfortunately, Cho follows my gaze, her eyes landing on Altaira straight away. She was never really good at camouflaging, my conscience supplies dryly.
"You said you were alone," Cho says through grit teeth. Before I can think of anything to say to that her foot lands roughly on my gut, causing me to lose my breath as she aims her bow in the direction of my ally, pulling on the string but not releasing it.
Altaira's eyes widen. She processes her surroundings for a second or two, and then slowly walks from the bushes into the little clearing where I lie on the ground, panting for air. She holds up her hands and her only weapon, her knife, clatters to the ground.
"Who're you?" Cho hisses.
"I'm Altaira."
"And I take it that you and Oran are allies?"
"Yes."
"I'll lower my bow if you can stand perfectly still. Don't touch that knife or I shoot and you're dead."
Altaira only nods.
"So here's my plan," Cho says as she lowers her weapon. "I need allies to take down the Careers. We don't stand a chance on our own out here, but if we work together there's a better chance that one of us will win, not one of them."
I don't say anything.
"Logical. But why prolong the inevitable?" asks Altaira. "Only one of us can survive in the end, and if we were to… kill-" she winces, "the Careers, it would only result in a bloodbath of our own. Between allies."
I grab the arrow that has punctured my trouser leg, yank it out and yelp as I then remove a splinter from my index finger.
Both Cho and Altaira glance around at me with annoyed expressions, then continue on with their conversation. I look down at the gaping whole in my trousers, grumbling.
"Perhaps, but wouldn't you rather one of us lower district tributes won in the end?"
"We're all kids, just trying to get home to our families," Altaira shrugs. I find myself wondering if I've ever glimpsed the true Altaira, if this is all just a façade and she's planning on killing me in my sleep.
"That's not true. You know it, he knows it-" Cho jabs a finger in my general direction without turning around, "and I know it. All of those Careers out there volunteered for this. They trained for it, too."
"How do you know that for sure? The Capitol doesn't allow us to know anything about other districts. I'm fairly sure this conversation we're having won't even be shown on television." She's right, the Capitol won't want anyone to hear this.
"I know for sure because I forced it out of one before I killed him," Cho snaps as she strokes her bow fondly. Altaira shuts up.
"You took down the District One boy?" I ask, remembering seeing his face, the first in the sky last night.
"Yeah, he tried to climb the walls of the maze. I followed him up there and pushed him down," Cho says, turning so that she can see both of us. "Splat."
Altaira looks uncomfortable.
"So, if we can just find Ethon we'll be even with the Careers."
"What, in numbers?" I ask.
Cho nods. "Four on both teams."
"Wait, did you just say team?"
"Yes, a team," she spits. "Don't you think I would have killed you by now if that's what I'd wanted?"
"Who killed the District Four girl?" I ask.
"I did. Snapped her kneck when she tried to tackle me."
Altaira's glare fixates on her knife, and again I ponder my earlier thoughts.
"Don't even think about it," Cho snarls. "You're lucky I haven't put an arrow through your skull, doll face."
I bite back a laugh. Altaira looks nothing like a doll, standing there in her clingy red jumpsuit covered in dirt and dust from sleeping in the cave last night. Still, she looks hurt and reaches for a lock of her long golden hair, examining it.
I sit up, crossing my legs. "Who's Ethon anyway?"
"He's the boy from District Seven. Expert with an axe and a spear, he's not gonna stand a chance out here though. District Seven kids don't know a thing about the wilderness."
"Right. So, how do we know he won't chop us up into little pieces when we try and tell him your plan?"
Cho walks over and snatches the broken arrow from beside me. "We don't."
"Promising," I smirk. "Have you got any food?"
"No. But the forest is full with game. I'll go shoot something now and bring it back. You and Barbie over there go gather some roots." Without another word, our newest ally stomps off back into the forest, her bow ready and her senses alert.
Altaira swivels abruptly on her heel and marches back into the cave.
"Women," I mumble, slowly unfolding my limbs and following after her. When I arrive, I spy her sitting at the back of the cave, pulling out some roots with a pissed off expression on her face.
I crouch down beside her, helping her draw out the harmless plants I recognise from home. Not nice to eat, but at least something.
"Are you alright?"
She snorts. "No. She wants to go on a bloody killing spree!"
I laugh, which just makes her angrier. "Hey, she could be useful to us. She knows how to hunt, which means food without any effort on our part. There are no guarantees that we'll even find Ethon, and I'm pretty sure that she's not prepared to go into a fight a man down. Just give it a couple of days; we can always take off if this alliance doesn't work to our advantage."
She sighs. "I should have killed her before she saw me. But... I was never prepared for this. I don't think I can take a life."
The image of my knife propelled by my hands penetrating the heart of the District Three boy comes back to haunt me. I push it from my mind; I don't want to think of myself as a murderer.
"With Cho around, maybe you won't have to."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm- I'm just not like the rest of you. I see the way you handle this, you do what you can to get home to your family. I have a family too, albeit a small one, but I… I can't even do it for them. I don't want my father to remember me as a killer."
Her words sting, although they're not intended to. Is that what Indigo and Azura see me as now? Did they get scared when they saw me stab that boy?
"I understand," is all I can say.
We gather roots in silence then, awaiting Cho's return. It's a familiar silence, not an awkward one. I watch Altaira as she works, taking note in the way her arms move and the rhythm of her gentle breathing. I find myself staring at her lips, recalling how they felt against mine. Would it really be so wrong to ask for a second kiss?
Altaira looks up just then, catching my stare and watching me with curious blue eyes. I quickly look down, pretending that she saw nothing. You're a tribute in the Hunger Games, Oran. You don't kiss girls. You kill girls.
I shudder.
Cho arrives then, blatantly announcing her arrival at the entrance of the cave, her bow and a fox pelt both draped over her shoulder. "Blondie, you start a fire. Oran, you help me gut this pelt."
I grimace at Altaira, who is now cursing under her breath, then go to help Cho, fishing my knife from my belt. We skin the animal, burying the useless inedible parts. I don't do much, but I follow the huntress' instructions as she asks.
"Did you make your bow and arrow yourself?" I ask, trying to make conversation as we work.
"Yeah, last night. My parents owned the weaponry back home and I worked there part time."
"Do you think you could make a Crossbow?"
Cho shrugs. "Sure. I mean, it can't be that different from a regular bow."
"That would be useful. Altaira could use a bow too. She's more apt with a knife, but she's alright at archery from what I've seen at training."
"Huh. I didn't picture doll face as an archer."
I chuckle.
We head back to the clearing with our clean pelt. Altaira, who's maintaining the fire, glares at us upon arrival. "About time, I've had the fire going for ages. Anyone nearby could've smelt the smoke and came and killed me for all you knew."
"The Careers headed out towards the Cornucopia. That's miles from here, and I'm pretty sure Ethon's content keeping to himself."
"The Cornucopia?" Altaira asks; her eyes wide. "We didn't see it at all."
"It's in the meadow."
"The meadow?"
"Yeah, on the opposite side of the maze. Hook climbed the wall and-"
"Hook climbed the wall?"
"Yes, now shut up and stop asking questions," Cho hisses, wrapping the pelt in the frond of some weird plant we'd found earlier and tossing it into the fire. "Hook climbed the wall and ran to the Cornucopia, found some sort of detonator device and threw it, blowing the wall to bits so that the rest of the Career pack could get out. Stroke of luck for me really, I'd been trying to find my way out all afternoon. I was able to slip out unnoticed and circle the maze until I was as far away from them as possible. I slept the night in a tree and then came across you two."
"The Cornucopia is usually easy to find, though," I say, sitting beside Altaira and watching the flames dance.
"Seems like the Gamemakers had other plans this year," replies Cho, also kneeling down opposite us.
We all watch the fire then, marvelling in the beauty of such a deadly substance. I remember the bush fire I'd once experienced back home. I my head I can picture the tall wall of fire bearing down upon the crops, burning all our hard work. The Harvest Coordinator had been sentenced the death by firing squad that year.
"There's another way to get supplies," Altaira says suddenly. "The boy who attacked us in the maze, Oran, he had those knives! That means that the Gamemakers have hidden them elsewhere in the arena, too."
"Unless he made it out of the maze to the Cornucopia first, then went back inside," Cho supplies.
"No. He attacked us only ten minutes after the gong rang, and we were out of the maze before Hook reached the Cornucopia. We didn't hear the explosion," I say.
There's silence again, and my mind wanders back home to District Eleven. My sisters would be at school now, safe. I hope they aren't thinking of me.
When the fox is cooked Altaira and I eat ravenously. The meat is tough and not at all nice, but I'm too starved to care. I'd never gone hungry for too long at home, and it appears that she hadn't either.
Cho however, eats slowly. I'm almost positive that she ate the night before. We eat all of the fox, as we have nothing to carry any remaining meat in. Altaira and I put out the fire with water from the stream, and then eat the roots we'd gathered. "Oh no, you guys eat. I've got to do some stuff," is what Cho says when we offer her a portion.
As I chew, I watch Cho sit on the ground, drawing maps and making plans with a pointed stick in the dirt. "Eight to go," she mutters every now and again.
