Chapter Seven: Resignation

A/N: Hello again! Sorry this took a while. I had a bunch of yucky exams to sit and stuff. Not as much action as I initially planned, but the word count was already adding up to over 5,000 and I hadn't even gotten to the bloodiest part! Hence the cliffhanger at the end. As always, thanks for reading! You guys have no idea how happy getting those email alerts makes me! :)


I awaken to rustling outside my shelter and am immediately on high alert.

I can tell from the steady patterns that the noise is someone walking. My vision of the outside is obscured by the leaves covering my hollow, but I don't dare move a muscle. Instead I hold my breath and listen carefully to the footsteps as they get louder, indicating that whoever's there is headed in my direction.

The footfalls are lighter than what I would expect Ranther's or one of the other Career's to be.

It's probably a girl, I conclude, running through all the possible candidates in my mind. Only four girls were killed yesterday in the Bloodbath, which leaves a lot of options.

And I don't think I'd win in a confrontation with any of them.

The rustling stops for a moment and then resumes once more. By now I'm burning with anxious curiosity. Little by little and as quietly as I can manage, I sit up a tiny bit straighter and angle my head to look out through a small gap in the leaves.

The sun hasn't even made an appearance yet this morning, so my eyes have difficulty making out the figure in the dim light. When I do, however, I discover that my initial assessment was right. It is a girl.

I watch her as she travels back and forth in the darkness. She seems to be walking from tree to tree, pausing to examine each perennial before moving on to look at the next.

What is she looking for?

All of a sudden the girl stiffens, swiveling her head towards something I can't see. A moment later she's dashing in the opposite direction, disappearing from sight.

I soon discover her reason for fleeing. Not three seconds after she vanishes, another figure bursts through the trees. This one is taller, and in the faint early morning moonlight I can make out a glinting blade clutched in one hand.

"Well, shit!" the person swears furiously, kicking a pile of leaves in anger.

Dread courses through me. I remember that voice. It's the same voice that laughed at me when I couldn't climb in training, the same voice that I'm sure Mukta heard as she ran for her life yesterday.

The girl from Seven continues to mutter things under her breath. Pretty soon yet another person emerges, and by her reaction I can guess who it is.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses. "You're supposed to be sleeping!"

"Oh yeah, sure," the other girl replies sarcastically. "Why don't I go sleep unprotected while there are still thirteen other people running around in this Arena. That sounds like a perfect plan."

"Oh, please," Maya counters. "You weren't unprotected. I wasn't even five minutes away. I would've heard someone coming."

Her ally pinches the bridge of her nose. "Do you remember how long it took to take out that girl yesterday after the Bloodbath? Just a few swipes of a knife. I could have been dead in minutes."

Maya turns away from the girl from Eleven, stalking angrily over to my tree. I don't even breathe; I'm paralyzed with fear as she leans up against it and lets out a loud yawn. The entrance to my little shelter is hidden pretty well with foliage, but if she were to just look a little closer she'd spot me in an instant.

"So," Maya's ally continues, annoyed, "I'd prefer it if you didn't wander off to chase after harmless weaklings."

At this, the girl from Seven snorts. "I wouldn't expect you to understand," the blonde says, condescendingly.

"I don't understand? You're right. I don't understand why you're so insistent upon going off on some manhunt to find people who pose us absolutely no threat! It's stupid!"

Maya growls now, a noise that cuts darkly through the air and bleeds irritation. "It would have been so great for us just now if I'd have gotten that girl!" she stage-whispers. "You just don't get it. Kills are everything in these Games, Mihica."

"No, they're-"

"But because whoever that ditz was got away from me, that kill's gonna go to someone else. And that someone else is gonna be the one with all the sponsors."

Maya's ally replies slowly, as if she's speaking to a small child. "We don't need sponsors. You have a knife. We have food."

"And so will those guys from One and Two. But in the end they'll have fancy armor or something."

"Fancy armor?" Mihica's tone is sarcastic.

"I don't know, Mihica!" The blonde girl takes a few steps forward, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Whatever the sponsors give them. And that fancy armor is why one of them will end up leaving this thing alive instead of me!"

The ensuing silence is unsettling. I can't see Mihica's expression through the leaves, but I imagine it's unamused.

"Oh shoot, Mihica, I... you know what I meant. One of us. That's what I meant." Maya sounds sheepish now.

"Sure. Whatever. I still think hunting is stupid." It's difficult not to notice the hard edge in the Mihica's voice now. "We need to lie low and let the rest kill each other off. If we play our cards right, we can rethink things again once we get to the final eight."

Maya just shakes her head furiously. Her stubbornness is getting on my nerves, and I'm not even the one trying to negotiate with her.

"Look. For some unknown reason, there are still plenty of weaklings left. I'm pretty sure the girl who got away from me just now was that pesky thing from Five. Besides her, that minnow from Four's still out there. So is that girl from Twelve, and both from Three!" Maya gestures to the woods and pauses, letting her words sink in.

"Hell," she says, quieter this time, "when's the last time both of the lab rats even made it past the Bloodbath?"

In the 69th Hunger Games, the male tribute from Three made it to the fourth day, I mentally answer her question.

No, Widget, that was rhetorical. She's making a point. And as much as I hate what she's saying, Maya's right.

"As long as there's easy prey, I'm going to hunt. And if you can't deal with it, maybe this alliance was not the best arrangement."

With that, the silence falls again, and Mihica turns back to the woods, defeated. After a moment, Maya follows her, glancing around the area before disappearing into the trees.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. That was way too close a call. Still recovering from the shock of encountering others, I ponder the scene I just witnessed. It was interesting to see how other tributes behave with each other, sobering to hear Maya dismiss her ally out loud like that.

That's why one of them will end up leaving this thing alive instead of me. Because true friendships don't exist here. Allies are a means to an end. And there was nothing the girl from Eleven could have done except surrender to Maya, because the blonde girl could have skewered her right then and there if she persisted.

I wouldn't want to be in that situation. How can you really trust someone when you know that they won't hesitate to kill you when you cease to be useful to them?

I hadn't had a chance to be in an alliance for obvious reasons. My heart throbs in my chest as the memories flood my mind - Mukta training, Mukta targeted by the Careers, Mukta's blood staining the grass red. It's all so fresh that part of me can't quite believe it all really happened. That the girl I saw giving interviews in that ugly patchwork dress, that the girl I'd joked with over rich Capitol lunches, that the girl whose vibrant energy radiated nothing but life, is dead.

But I knew it had to happen. I knew in my heart that even if we managed to beat the odds, that even if we managed to fly under the radar and hold out until the very end, even then we couldn't both live.

So why does it hurt so much to think about it?

I am unexpectedly distracted from my somber thoughts by my stomach gurgling painfully. The gnawing intensifies, and I realize that I haven't eaten in almost twenty-four hours.

I assess my situation. I have a throwing knife and some rope. There are definitely tributes nearby, at least one of whom is on the hunt. I have no idea if the berries that grow on the bushes here are edible or not, and my hunting experience in nonexistent. How would I cook anything anyway? Starting a fire here would be like sending up a flare. The smoke would immediately draw attention to my location.

So what do I do?

I peek outside once again, this time shuffling into a crouched position. My leg twinges as I move. I'd forgotten that I hadn't left the Cornucopia yesterday completely unscathed.

Another stomach growl is what leads me to move. Staying in my shelter all day definitely won't get me fed, and I'll start to get weak if I don't eat soon. As quietly as I can manage, I push aside the leaves and branches at the front of the tree hollow, drawing in a quick breath when I hear a twig snap underneath my feet. After a moment's pause, I crawl out of the small shelter and into the morning sunlight.

As soon as I'm out, I back up into the shadows. My best bet would be to hide if someone were to emerge from the trees. Fighting them is barely an option, unless for some reason they are weaponless and have lost the ability to move at all.

Focus, Widget. Food. I need food. Once I get it, I can crawl right back into my little tree hole.

I draw my knife and slowly make my way through the shadows, listening intently for any signs of others. The trees, for now, are relatively quiet. I notice some small bright yellow fruit growing on some of them, and curse my incompetence. There's a good chance at least one of the plants I've seen has been edible. If I had just tried a little harder at those plant stations I might have had food by now.

I continue walking, footsteps light and senses heightened. Every single chirp and rustling of leaves has me turning my head around in alarm. I am too preoccupied with checking for other tributes that I don't recognize my surroundings until I'm standing right in front of the water.

The clearing is just as breathtaking as it was yesterday, but the location feels different now. The crystal clarity of the small pond is no longer a sight of relief, but rather one of terror. The surrounding bushes have gone from welcoming to foreboding, and I can remember the exact spot where I found the girl from Eight last night.

I shake my head to clear it. I can't let my own memories distract me from my mission. Where there's water, there's life. There has to be something I can eat around here.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, a hare darts across the grass and disappears into a nearby bush. It's too fast for me to have any hope of catching it.

Then an idea comes to me. I have rope, don't I? If I can't catch anything on my own, why not have a trap catch it for me?

I run over to a tree near the edge of the clearing. Its base is wide and the branches look strong. If I could climb, perhaps I'd have decided to rest up there for the night.

It's perfect for a snare.

Wasting no time, I tie a firm knot around the base of the trunk. Remembering what the snare instructor said to me in training, I double-knot it for good measure. When I deem the result to be acceptable, I toss the rope over a higher branch above my head and try to remember all of the tips I received on resistance two days earlier.

The snare takes me longer than I expected. Working on real trees is very different than with rubber poles on the floor of a gymnasium, and at first figuring out where to tie everything proves difficult. But after a few errors and minor, silent temper-tantrums, I'm finally finished. I spend the next couple of minutes gazing at my work with satisfaction.

There! I did it. I knew I'd figure out a way to get food somehow.

I stare at the snare expectedly, waiting for food to appear. The gnawing in my stomach, which the snare had momentarily distracted me from, returns full force.

Well, shoot. Sometimes I surprise myself with my lack of foresight. In my excitement I had forgotten that making the snare does not equal instant nourishment. I would still have to wait, possibly for hours, for an animal to even get caught. And then there would be the matter of cooking it.

Nuts and bolts!

I'm stuck. There's nothing left to do. I can't stab anything with my knife, and I can't tell which berries will feed me and which ones will kill me. I am the epitome of a lost cause.

Barely holding back tears, I crawl into the shadows once more. I soon find myself cowering in bloodstained grass, and realize that I am in the very same spot that sheltered Mukta in her final hours. What a parallel.

I don't know how long I lie there hopelessly, watching the shadows around me move as the sun makes its daily journey through the sky. The protesting of my empty stomach serves as a continuous reminder of my uselessness. It's pathetic, really. Only now do I stop to think about what a truly sheltered life I've lived. There hasn't been a day that I can remember where I've skipped a meal. My life in Three was never extravagant; the food I ate at PATT was always bland and unworthy of excitement, each calorie calculated precisely to enhance brain function. The Capitol didn't give us flavor, but they would never let their next generation of engineers, inventors, and scientists starve.

How many people in Panem have felt this hunger their entire lives? How many have gone weeks without anything substantial? I think of all the factory kids back home, and how I would roll my eyes or curse them under my breath for stealing and begging in the streets. They must all be laughing at me now. Ha! Look at that Tech Training girl, giving up because of a little empty stomach.

Dash must think I'm weak. I can hear him sighing and see him shaking his head at me. Really, Widget? he'd say. That's all the will you have to live? Your stomach growling is enough to make you give up seeing Mom, Dad, Coyle, and me again? You must not love us all that much.

I do, I tell him in my head. I love you so much.

Then get the hell up! The Dash in my head is clenching his fists like he does when he's really mad. I want to listen to him. I scream at my body to move, but can't bring myself to sit up.

I'm sorry, Dash. I just can't. Please forgive me. I close my eyes and surrender myself to the forest, listening to the sounds slowly fade out around me.

It's only when I open my eyes again do I realize that I had fallen asleep. The sun is still shining brightly, but the heat isn't as prominent as it was before. I conclude it must be around mid-afternoon, and that I had been out for at least two hours.

As I come to my senses, I realize that I'm not alone in the clearing anymore.

Despite my earlier resignation, fear shoots up my spine and my heart seizes in my chest. What was I thinking, curling up here like this? The truth of my ordeal hits me, and I quickly conclude that I don't want to die.

I am still, thankfully, concealed by shadows. But just as I spotted Mukta here yesterday, it won't be long until whoever's out there spots me.

I scan the clearing until my eyes land on the other tribute. She's very quiet, and if I hadn't been so paranoid earlier I may not have heard her at all. She steps forward into the light, and looks in every direction before making her way to the pond in the middle.

It's the girl from Twelve, I realize. The one who helped me with fires on my first day. A wayward strand of black hair falls into her face as she bends down to drink, and she pushes it behind her ear.

Maybe if I stay very quiet she won't see me. I have no idea how a fight between us would turn out. We're around the same height, but she looks extremely frail from afar. I doubt I could outrun her, but I do have a knife. Maybe I'd be able to take her out without getting injured too badly.

On the other hand, she does have this mysterious air about her that scares me. Life in District Twelve's supposed to be rough. Maybe the dangers of her home have toughened her up. She could have years of fighting experience.

After drinking her fill she stands up and heads in the same direction she came from. I breathe a sigh of relief. Perhaps we won't have to fight after all.

Then something unexpected happens.

To be honest, I'd forgotten all about the snare. I had been prepared to abandon the contraption in my hopeless state. I don't realize how close in proximity the girl is to my setup until she activates it.

There's a loud snap as she steps on the trigger branch. Immediately, the loop of rope tightens around her ankle, and the girl lets out a frightened yelp as the weight on the other side of the support branch plummets to the ground. I watch, amazed, as she thrashes in the air, suspended by her ankle four feet above the ground.

She swears audibly, and desperately tries to reach up and untie herself. I didn't think my trap would be able to hold a person, to be honest. The ankle suspension snare is the only one I know how to do with an above average success rate, but I didn't think I'd tied the ropes tight enough to trap a person. I'm positive that if one of the Careers had been caught in it they would have broken the trap, but years of eating practically nothing has made the girl from Twelve almost weightless.

I debate my next move. I don't think I can kill her. Knowing me, she'd somehow get ahold of my knife in the fight and slash me in the face with it. If I leave her here it won't be long until someone else finds her and finishes her off.

Then a thought occurs to me. I need food, and soon. She probably knows a lot more than I do in that department. Maybe if I let her down, she'd consider helping me out.

No. She wouldn't tell me anything. Or maybe she'd tell me and proceed to strangle me to death. But perhaps if she were desperate enough...

A plan forms in my mind. It's evil, and I hate myself for even considering it. But it might very well be my only way.

I cough just loud enough for her to hear me, and step out of the shadows. The girl's head turns frantically in my direction, and there's obvious fear in her eyes before she masks it with something else.

"Three?" There's relief in her voice. She had probably been expecting someone more intimidating to emerge.

"Twelve? What a surprise. You're not a rabbit. What are you doing in my snare?" My words come out snarky and sarcastic, and I hate it.

"Your snare?" She says disbelievingly. Apparently the thought of a tribute from Three knowing anything that doesn't involve computers is too hard to fathom.

"Yes, my snare. I was hoping to catch something more nutritious."

"Listen, Three," she starts. "How about we forget this whole thing? Just untie me, and I'll leave you alone. Deal?"

"Tempting. But what am I going to do for dinner then, Twelve?"

"There's plenty to eat. C'mon, just untie me." Her tone has a note of desperation in it, and I hate myself.

"I wish I could. But it's going to get dark soon, and I have to find food."

I turn away and take a few steps in the opposite direction.

"No, wait!" She gasps. "Please, Three! I'll do anything! Just please untie me!"

I turn my head and look her over. Being upside down means her blood's rushed to her head, making her face red.

"Alright. Wait just one second." I walk to one of the bushes on the edge of the clearing and pluck a small pink berry from in between the leaves.

There were two types of pink berries I can remember struggling with at the berry station during training. One was the harmless partridge berry, and the other the toxic, cardiac arrest-inducing yew berry. I vaguely remember the instructor telling me that one grows on trees and one doesn't, but I can't remember which was which.

The girl from Twelve might, on the other hand.

I walk up to her quickly and hold out the berry in front of her face.

"I'll let you go if you eat this."

The girl takes a moment to register my words, but then shakes her head immediately. "What? Look, Three, just untie the damn-"

"Eat it. Or I'm leaving."

"No! I'm not eating that! What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Why?" I ask. "Is it poisonous?"

"Yes!" She exclaims, then pauses. "Well, maybe. I don't know. I've never seen it before."

I shrug. "I'm fairly sure it's not poisonous," I lie. I actually have no idea if it's poisonous or not, but how else am I going to find out?

The girl narrows her eyes at me before shaking her head once more. "I don't have a death wish, sorry. Just let me down."

"You don't have very many options. Eat the berries and I'll let you go."

"Whatever, Three. Leave. I'll get down by myself."

I smirk annoyingly and roll the berry in my palm. "The girl from Seven's around here, you know. She's pretty bloodthirsty. She'd finish you off in a second."

The girl from Twelve spits at me in response. "Screw you, Three."

"Hanging upside down for hours will kill you, too. Trust me. It's physics."

When all I earn is more glares, I shrug once more. "Fine, then. Have it your way."

She doesn't make a sound as I take a few steps away from her. When I turn back, her upside down face is still glaring at me.

She's not reacting because she's not scared of me. She knows I won't kill her. The only way to get her to cooperate is to make her scared.

So I decide to do just that. Without breaking eye contact, I let out a long, blood-curdling scream.

All at once her eyes widen, and she holds a finger to her lips desperately. "Shut up! Are you insane? There's no way they didn't hear you!"

I turn my back again, pretending to walk away. I don't bother moving very quickly. I know what she's going to do next.

"Fine! Give me the fucking berries!"

I hastily hand her the small pink morsel, acutely aware that every second I remain in this area brings me closer to death. Maya's probably already on her way.

The girl shoves the thing in her mouth. I watch as she swallows, and wait with baited breath for her to vomit or shudder or something.

A second passes. Then two. We both stare at each other anxiously, waiting for the potential poison to attack her body.

Nothing happens.

"There! Done! Now let me go, Three! Please!"

I didn't intend to let her live. I'd made up my mind that I'd force her to swallow the berry and then leave her here for Maya to finish off.

But my muscles are frozen. As I stare into the girl's terrified brown eyes, I see Mukta staring back at me. The same helplessness that I felt when I watched the life leave her body overcomes me.

I know I shouldn't. I know this girl could turn around and strangle me. But I just can't watch another person die.

I quickly turn to the rope and begin to untie it. It's not fast enough. It turns out that knots have to be extremely tight in order to hold up a person, and my fingers just can't untangle them quickly. In a fit of impatience I slash at the rope with my knife once, twice, three times until the girl from Twelve lands on the ground with a thump.

She wastes no time in picking herself up. The skin around her left ankle is raw and bleeding, and I cringe at my own evil.

"Come here! Follow me!" I say, sprinting off into the bushes.

I register the girl's footsteps behind me, and I jump over bushes and branches all the way to my hollow. I jump in, scooting all the way to the back as the other girl piles in after me.

"Cover up the entrance," I gasp, out of breath. She does as I say, scooping the foliage outside over the hollow and hiding us in shadows. Before I can say anything else, I hear them.

"Maya, wait!" a voice I recognize as the girl from Eleven's pants.

"No! I already waited for you to finish covering up the food piles. If we don't hurry, they'll be gone soon!"

With that the blonde girl races out of sight, her ally struggling to keep up.

After a moment the outside goes silent. The only sounds are those of mine and the girl from Twelve's heavy breathing.

It's an extremely tight squeeze in the hollow, and I get a much better look at her up close.

I don't think I was wrong in assuming she probably ate nothing back home. She's so skinny I have to wonder how the force of being pulled up by her ankle didn't snap her in half. Her eyes have dark circles under them, and her black hair is dull and matted. My gaze travels down to her legs and that nasty rope burn around her left ankle.

When my eyes once again meet hers, she's glaring at me again. But I'm not scared of her. Now that I'm close enough to truly see her I realize that I'm probably twice her weight, and could probably pin her down with ease.

"You're an asshole."

The words cut through the air, penetrating my soul. I wince. I can't deny it; the stunt with the berries was anything but kind.

"But I'm an honest asshole," I reply. "I kept my word. You aren't still hanging upside down."

She continues to stare at me, but it isn't pure hatred anymore.

"Was that really your trap, or were you bluffing?" she says finally.

"I told you already. I'm an honest asshole. That snare was all me."

She whistles softly and tilts her head back, closing her eyes in what I assume is exhaustion.

"And a smart asshole. That rope thing isn't easy to pull off."

The silence resumes once again. I don't know what to say.

"Although," she continues after a moment, "letting an enemy into your shelter? Probably not the wisest move."

She's right. If she leaves here later I'll have to find somewhere else to hide.

Is she my enemy, though? Putting aside the obvious fact that I'd have to die for her to live, she hasn't done anything to hurt me since we left the clearing. Of course, that could just be because she's in bad shape right now. She could very well turn on me in ten minutes after she catches her breath.

Yet something tells me she won't do it. This girl's a weakling, like me. Is it really in her best interest to pick fights?

Feeling somewhat bold, I ask put my thoughts into a question. "Are you my enemy?"

She looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Aren't I? You did just try to kill me."

"Correction," I say, "I wasn't trying to kill you specifically. I was - and still am - extremely hungry, and I suck at berry identification. Then you just had to go and step in my snare, and, well...how else do I determine whether or not something is poisonous?"

The girl snorts and shakes her head. "Ever heard of the rub test? You just rub the juice on your skin. If the skin goes red-ly, then it's deadly."

"Nope. Never heard of it. And they must not be great poets in Twelve, because that rhyme is awful."

The girl chuckles and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Aw, man," she groans. "This is all too much. Who the hell are you?"

"Widget Irving. District Three. Professional, honest asshole and master of snares."

We sit there in the hollow, this girl and I, listening to the sounds of the Arena.

"I have to say," she utters appraisingly after a moment in a quieter voice, "when Haymitch was telling us who to stay away from, he never mentioned you. You don't look like you should be dangerous."

"Tell your mentor I'm flattered. But maybe he was right to keep me off the list. Maybe it's a sign."

She yawns at this before shaking her head.

"A sign?"

"You're weak. I'm weak. No one's placing their bets on us right now. Maybe we'll be less weak together."

"Be serious. An alliance? After that stunt you pulled out there?"

"What's your name, Twelve?"

She narrows her eyes again, and for a second I think she won't tell me. "Kim," she says finally.

"Oh, yeah! I remember it now. I saw it on TV."

"Hmm," Kim replies distractedly. Her eyes don't seem to be able to stay open for very long. I can't help but wonder what happened to her last night.

My stomach growls for what has to be the thousandth time today.

"You should go take care of that," she tells me.

I squeeze my way past her and stick my head outside the shelter. The sky is beginning to darken, and I am very much aware that I could run into someone at any second. As quietly and quickly as I can manage, I dart out of the hollow and towards a few berry bushes opposite me.

I pick several handfuls of what I now know to be partridge berries and cradle them in the bottom of my shirt, which I hold out like a bag. As I turn to pluck the next bush's worth, I glimpse something bright yellow peeking up from the ground.

Dandelions! I'm pretty sure those are edible.

When I'm done foraging I carefully make my way back to the hollow. I'm surprised to find Kim still there; a large part of me thought she would have fled while I was gone.

One of her eyes opens as I crawl back inside the shelter.

"Not bad," she whispers.

"Hungry?" I hold a dandelion out to her in the palm of my hand.

She seems surprised by my offer. "Sure. Thanks."

I eat like I've never seen food before. My mother would definitely be ashamed.

After every last berry is gone I sit back and observe my new ally. At least I think she's an ally. She never did agree to it.

Kim's eyes are closed, and I can tell she won't be able to stay awake much longer. "You can sleep first," I tell her. "I'll take first watch."

Because that's what allies are supposed to do, right? Take shifts? It seems like a smart idea, even though half a night of sleep sounds less than appealing.

I receive only a hum in response. As the minutes pass I hear Kim's breathing even out, and her head droops to her shoulder.

I spend a few hours observing the darkening sky through the foliage. When the anthem plays through the Arena, I lean forward a little and tilt my gaze to the sky.

There are no faces tonight. In my head it makes sense: I don't remember hearing any cannons, after all. My brain quickly does the math, and dread courses through me when I realize that there are still fifteen people alive.

Fifteen people. Fourteen tributes who need to die if I want to see my family again.

One of whom is sitting right in front of me.

Killing Kim would be so easy. She was so quick to trust me, even after I tortured her upside down. That speaks volumes about what a bad shape she's in. What was it Mihica said earlier today? Just a few swipes of a knife...

No. I couldn't kill her. It would be a bad idea. I am not in the position to be choosy with my allies right now. I don't know the half of what could happen to me out here alone.

One thing I do know, however, is that there will be death tomorrow. The Capitol loves bloodshed, and a day without any this early in the Games is a rarity. They won't be satisfied for long.

Hours later I find myself getting very tired. It becomes harder and harder for me to keep my eyes open, and the soothing repetition of Kim's breathing beside me acts as a sort of lullaby. But I can't wake her up just yet. She was dead on her feet yesterday; if I rouse her early I won't be doing either one of us any favors.

I recite the periodic table in my head to try and keep myself focused. I get all the way to Protactinium before I hear it.

Someone is screaming. The sound is faint, which indicates that it isn't that closeby. That fact, however, doesn't lessen the chill that shoots down my spine.

The screaming doesn't stop. Instead the sound gets louder as the screamer gets closer. There are words thrown in, now. "Please! Please! Someone, anyone! Please!"

I gently shake Kim's shoulder. She jolts awake, banging her head on the roof of the hollow.

"Shh," I whisper. "Something's going on."

She furrows her brows, confusion washing over her features.

The screaming cuts off suddenly.

"Are they dead?" Kim whispers.

"No cannon," I answer.

Just as I'm about to suggest we go back to sleeping, one last word cuts through the air.

"WIDGET!"

A/N: Reviews appreciated!