Chapter 8! For people who be wondering, Carlton Banks is that guy from Bel Air Rush XD Hope you like!

Kendall didn't want to stay in the tree any longer. Slowly he urged himself to move, and unbuckled his belt, sliding out of the sleeping bag and gathering everything up before leaping out of the tree, landing easily. He packed away his sleeping bag and put his belt back on. He was just trying to decide which direction to take when he remembered the snares. Maybe checking them while the others could be so close was a dumb idea, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted meat. And maybe years of hunting just drew him back, no matter what the risk was.

On his way, Kendall came across the dying coals of a fire. It must've been the dead girl's. He walked past it quickly, not wanting to think much about the previous night. He headed back to the snares, and grinned when he was rewarded with one large, plump rabbit. He cut it down and sat under a tree, working on skinning the animal. When he was done, he left all the leftover pieces under some leaves.

He bit his lip. Damn, he would've loved a fire right now. Eating rabbit raw could lead to rabbit fever — an unpleasant lesson he'd learned the hard way.

Oh, wait. Kendall picked up the rabbit and hurried back to the dead tribute's fire. The coals were still hot. He set about cooking the rabbit, hoping the cameras were on him. He wanted sponsors to know that he could hunt, that he wouldn't be lured into traps as the others would because of hunger. While he waited, he ground up a charcoaled branch and tried camouflaging the backpack. It didn't do too well; mid would've been better. But for mud, he needed water.

Kendall stood up, picking up his food and heading in the oppooite direction the Careers —and Heather— took. Well, could he call her a Career now? He really wasn't sure. Obviously, she was acting like one now. But he wasn't sure she had it in her to actually be them. Traitor or not, she still seemed sweet, and not brutish or cruel like the others were. She was nothing like Stephanie, or that horrible Lucy. Or Mercedes.

Mercedes. Another puzzle he wanted to try and solve. Why didn't she kill him? Maybe she was distracted by all the stuff at the Cornucopia? Or maybe she decided he just wasn't worth her time. He wished he knew. Not that it'd help him in any way.

He finished off some of the rabbit and wrapped the other half in the sheet of plastic, tucking it into his pack for later. It helped the hunger pains in his stomach. But water was his priority now. He needed to find some quickly. He stood up, kicked some dirt over the coals, and walked the opposite direction the Careers had gone. He was still heading downhill, but realised now this could be a good thing. Water ran downhill, after all. He had better chance of finding it here, and there was no way he was going back to the lake.

He walked on. At some point he heard a twig snap and dived to the floor, taking cover in a bush. It was James, walking through the woods and looking around. Kendall thought about drawing an arrow and killing him there and then. But he couldn't.

James held a spear in his hand, and had a small pack attached to his belt. He took another look over his shoulder, before running off into the trees. Kendall waited a good fifteen minutes before getting up and walking on.

He wondered if he held the screens in the Capitol right now. In case he did, he made sure to keep his expression blank. Claudius Templesmith must've been going crazy over all this. A District 11 girl joining the Careers, a 12 tribute only a few feet away. He wondered now, if District 11 had any sponsors. He felt certain James did. He was handsome and strong, after all. The Captitol liked handsome.

The sun rose in the sky, and even through the canopy of the trees it seemed much too bright. After some more walking, he coated his lips with grease from the rabbit and tried to stop panting. But it didn't help. It had only been a day and he was dehydrating fast. He kept walking into the valley, trying to spot any change of environment that could indicate a nearby water source. But no, everything was the same.

As the day wore on, he realised he was in trouble. The dry patch on his tongue refused to moisten, the sun hurt his eyes. He took out the sunglasses and put them on, but they made everything look lopsided and weird, so he quickly took them off again. They made him even dizzier than he already was.

Spotting a clump of bushes covered with berries got his hopes up, but when he dived forward and picked some, he saw they weren't blueberries like he'd thought. They were a different shape, and when he dug in his fingernail and broke it open, the inside was a dark red. He bit his lip. He knew not to eat any berries unless he was positive they weren't poisonous. But it took a few minutes of repeating this for him to manage throwing them away. He was so tired now. He had to stop and rest every few minutes, and wanted nothing more than to just lie down and not get up again. But it was moving forward that would help him, so he couldn't.

When nightfall came, he climbed a tree as high as he dared with his shaky hands, and strapped himself into the sleeping bag. He coldn't eat, so he just stared up at the sky blankly until the anthem began to play. The only face to appear was Jennifer from 5, with the long brown hair. She must've been the girl who list the fire. Poor thing.

He shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Katie asked her mother.

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Mrs Knight replied quickly. "He's very good in the woods. You know that. I'm sure he'll find water."

Logan stared at the screen, eyes wide. He was worried. Worried for Kendall. His father had once told him how bad dehydration was. How it was one of the worst ways to die. And Logan didn't want that for Kendall. Never in a million years.

In the morning, Kendall's head throbbed and his heart pounded. Rather than jump from the tree, he just fell, landing on his knees with a huff. He knew he should be moving more cautiously, but his mind was foggy and all he could think was Water, water . . .

Maybe he could go back to the lake.

No way. It was like a watering hole. The number one attraction for predators. He wouldn't make it all the way there, anyway.

He could wait for rain. But there wasn't a cloud in the sky. To keep searching, however agonising it was, was his only option.

Suddenly Kendall thought of Gustavo, and felt outraged. That fat idiot could send him water! Yes, sending in gifts was expensieve, but surely District 12 had some sponsors!

Kendall took a deep breath and opened his mouth. "Water," he said as loud as he dared, noticing how hoarse and week his voice was.

But no little parachute came floating down. Nothing.

What was he playing at? Gustavo disliked him, but he couldn't want him to die. And even if he did, he wouldn't risk the anger of the District. He had a feeling that Ripper, the woman who sold the liquor would be keeping her business away from him. He wouldn't chance that, would he?

So why wasn't he helping him?

And then the obvious came to him. Maybe it was a message. If Gustavo hadn't sent him water, it must've meant that he was close to it. And this was what drove Kendall to walking further ahead. He could do this, he could do this . . .

"He's coming a little close to the West side, there," a Gamemaker called out.

"We'll soon drive him back," the head Gamemeaker Carlton Banks smiled, eyeing the camera that showed him Kendall Knight, stumbling along in a daze. "Muttation?"

"Got it," the Gamemaker replied. "Muttation, habitat . . . here, will this do?"

Carlton grinned. "Perfect."

Kendall leaned against a tree, panting like a puppy dog. Everything was spinning a little. He stumbled forward anonther few steps. And then stumbled some more because he was on a steep slope. He blinked dazedly, coming to his senses and seeing it at last. A large pond at the foot of the slope, surrounded by bushes. Ok, maybe it looked a little like a swamp, but he couldn't care less at this point. Water was water.

He ran down the hill, tripping at least twice and ending up falling and landing on his butt only a few feet away from the water. Finally. He crawled forward, grinning like a madman. The water may not have been very clear —and very dark—but he could purify it well enough, surely. He was so thirsty now it was dimming his senses.

He tentatively dipped a hand in the water. And when nothing happened, he sat back for a second, just to catch his breth. As he did, he got his backpack and opened it to find the water container.

That was when the water exploded.

Or that was what it looked like to Kendall. He shrieked, leaping back what distance he could. But now he could see why the water had burst upwards. And he was too slow to react as the tentacle shot out and wrapped tightly around his left leg.

Kendall let out a blood-curdling scream, writhing on the ground and trying to pull back as the tentacle dragged him forward. His calf was burning, stinging with an unbearable pain. His foot was now fully submerged in the water. Kendall's fumbling fingers yanked the knife from his belt, and with a roar he sliced down right through the tentacle grabbing his leg. And again. And again until blood spurted from the slimy black skin and his leg was released. Without waiting, Kendall leaped up and ran back up the hill, finding new energy in his fear. He ran, stumbling through the bushes and tripping over roots until he couldn't go any further.

The next root knocked him flat, the breath knocked out of him as he lay on his stomach. He had tears in his eyes, and prayed the cameras couldn't see. He slowly rolled onto his back, panting and trying to get the air into his lungs. Everything was a blur.

It's alright. This is a good place to die.

His hands gripped the soft earth around him, his eyes drifting shut.

"Hey!" Logan squealed, ducking and laughing. It did no good though, as another clump of mud struck him on the leg. "Watch it!"

Kendall just laughed, ducking and diving in behind the reeds as Logan flung mud at him. He was six years old, at the lake with his father and brother. Well, either small lake or large pond, his father always said it could be either.

"You missed me!" he giggled, running across the grass when Logan chased him.

"Alright, you won't be laughing long!"

Kendall shrieked as his dad grabbed him, lifting him up over his shoulders. "Swimming time, squirt! Hold your breath!"

Logan laughed as Kendall was flung into the clear water, squealing all the way. He popped up again immediately, treading water and laughing. He could smell the pond lilies that were floating around him, could feel the mud against his toes when he kicked his legs . . .

Mud.

Kendall sat up, breath catching on his throat so suddenly he burst into a fit of coughing. He could feel mud on his fingers, mud on the ground. And he could smell lilies! Pond lilies!

Kendall turned around and started crawling, fumbling along weakly to the source of the scent. He let out a weak sob of relief. A pond, half sheltered by trees and bushes, mud all over the bank. And those beautiful lilies floating on the surface. Kendall crawled forward to the edge, dipping his hand in. Somehow he knew this was ok. Grinning, he filled the flask up with water. And it was little common sense he had left that stopped him from gulping it all down. He took out the bottle of iodine and added the right amount of drops. And while he waited for it to purify, he started rubbing mud over the backpack, camouflaging it completely until it matched the forest floor almost exactly.

When that was done, he trusted enough time had passed and picked up the container. After a few gulps, he put it down again. He had to take it slow. And while he waited for that, he decided to examine his left leg.

The entire pants leg almost up to the knee was ripped and ruined, so he got his knife and cut it off entirely. He winced as he looked. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, at least. That tentacle must've had teeth or spikes or something on it, because Kendall's whole calf was covered with scratches and cuts. But they didn't look serious; the deepest was something he'd had before and nothing too drastic. He washed the blood off his leg and drank some more water. Within the next hour, he'd swallowed the entire two litres. And he felt so much better. Over the next couple of hours, he drank another two litres, then purified another as he ate some more of the rabbit, along with one of the crackers from his pack.

It was evening by now, so he hopped up into a tree and snuggled up in his sleeping bag. Now that he thought about it, that tentacle thing was probably just to drive him back. He had a feeling if we were to go back there, that swamp might have disappeared altogether. But he could never be sure.

This was the Hunger Games, after all.

Carlos had never felt anything like this.

As he watched Kendall screaming and trying to break free from the mutt that's had him in his grasp, he felt undeniable fear. Fear for the boy he'd loved for so long. A boy who from sometimes felt like his brother, sometimes his friend . . . sometimes lover. But not often. Mostly there were those two struggling souls, who leaned on each other for warmth and support.

And then when he thought of Logan, his cheeks flushed. With Logan, he felt so . . . wanted. With Kendall, sure it had been nice. A needy thing, something they did because of all the pressure on their shoulders. But he felt like Logan wanted him. It seemed more sensitive, more raw with emotion.

These two feelings were familiar. Nothing strange and alien. But the fact that he felt these two emotions together as he watched the screen— he just didn't understand this.

He loved Kendall.

Did he love Logan the same way he love Kendall? Or maybe it was the fact that he didn't feel the same towards Kendall as he did Logan.

It had his head spinning just thinking about it. He trusted he would figure it out soon. Or else try and push it to the back of his mind. For now.

Kendall's eyes opened at the sound of stampeding feet. He rolled onto his back, looking up. His eyes widened. Shit.

His first instinct was to leap from the tree, but he was belted in. He opened the belt and rolled over, falling out and landing on his back with a thump. Trying to catch his breath, he scrambled out of the sleeping bag —which thankfully had all his gear in it— and ran.

The wall of fire was gigantic, turning the woods into a world of flames and smoke. Burning branches fell from trees and landed at his feet in a shower of sparks. All he could do was follow the animals running for their lives. Their instincts were sharper than his. But they were much faster, and their feet didn't catch on roots and fallen branches like his did.

The heat was unbearable. But the smoke was worse. He pulled his shirt up over his nose; it was soaked in sweat and offered a thinrotection. He ran on, his sleeping bag banging against his bak, his face cut and scratched from branches that seemed to appear from nowhere in the smokey haze. But he kept running, choking. Of course, he knew that this was. This fire couldn't be an accident; it was Gamemaker-made. Probably to drive the tributes together. There had been no deaths today, and maybe not much fighting either. the Games were becoming dull. Something they could never do.

He leaped over a burning log, but not high enough. The end of his jacket caught fire, and he had to stop and rip it from his body, stamping out the flames. Then he stuffed it into his sleeping bag and hoped the lack of air inside would extinguish what he hadn't. He couldn't leave it behind, he wouldn't.

His lungs felt like they were burning. He couldn't stop coughing, each breath hurting his chest. He felt a churning feeling in his stomach and took cover under an outcrop of rock. Then he threw up, gagging and retching on the ground. He retched until there was nothing left to come up. He grabbed his water and took a sip to rinse out his mouth, then a few swallows to help his throat. He rolled up his sleeping bag and messily stuffed everything into his backpack, before pulling his bow and arrows back onto his shoulder. This part of the woods was unfamiliar to him, but he knew his rest was over and he had to run again.

That was when the first fireball shot out and struck a tree half a metre from his head. He shrieked, scrambling out from under the rock ledge and taking off.

Well, now the Gamemakers were looking for some real fun. When he heard the hiss of another fireball, he dove down to the ground, not taking the time to look. He was barely on his feet again before the next one hit where he'd been lying, sending up a massive pillar of fire. Never in his life had Kendall felt any fear like this.

Maybe if he got out of this part of the woods, there would be no more launchers. But he couldn't keep a plan in his head as he dodged and ran past the fireballs. He could lose his life in a split second, if a Gamemeaker wanted it. He just kept running, trusting he would get into another part of the woods soon.

Eventually, the attacks seemed to lessen. Which was good, because he was retching again. This time it was noting but an acidic substance that burned his throat and forced him to stop as his body convulsed violently, trying to rid itself of the poisons from this attack. There was no hissing, so he stayed still, the force of the retching stinging his eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his clothes were drenched in sweat. He was wiping at his eyes angrily when the next hissing came.

He didn't react fast enough. The fireball skimmed past his side, skidding over his right calf on its way. He screamed in pain, falling onto his knees. He rolled around to quell the flames on his trouser leg. Then angrily ripped the blackened fabric away. He was shaking, his calf burning, his hands covered in red welts. He couldn't move any further, if they wanted to kill hm, now was their chance.

He heard Marcos's voice in his head: "The boy on fire."

The Gamemakers must've been hysterical. Maube Marcos's designs were what inspired this torture.

The attack was over now. He knew the Gamemakers didn't want to kill him. Not yet, at leat. Occasionally a Gamemaker would kill a tribute just to show the others they could. But mostly they moved them around so they would face each other.

Which could only mean one thing. If he wasn't being fired at anymore (no pun intended), there was another tribute nearby.

If he could he would drag himself into a tree, but the smoke was much too thick. He forced himself to stand and limped away from the wall of flames. As he got further away, the woods became darker, foggy and dim with the smoke. He realised he could see the occasional stream of sunlight through the haze. He could just about see ten metres in every direction. A tribute could easily be hiding here. He could've drawn his bow, but he doubted he could hold it for long. But the pain in his hands was nothing compared to his calf. He hated burns more than any other wound. He could hardly bear the small ones from the oven, let alone this.

He let out a weak cough, stopping and leaing against a tree. Then he heard the crack of a twig on the ground. Oh shit!

He hurried forward, then realised it was a mistake. Going too fast too suddenly made his head spin, his face grow hotter than before. With a faint cough, he felt himself falling, landing on the ground with a soft thump. Everything was dim. He saw his poor burnt hands, one twirling a little plant around his finger, before he heard the cannon go off.

Oh God, it's a Career . . . they're going to kill me . . .

But he couldn't get up. His eyes slid shut and his head finally stopped hurting as he blacked out.

"He's going to kill him, Carlos!" Logan was screaming, hands in his hair, eyes wide with horror. Carlos quickly rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's only the fourth day, this isn't fair!"

"Wait!" Carlos stopped his ranting. "Just stop. Look." He didn't know what he felt right then. Jealousy, maybe? Or just shock.

Nobody expected what happened right then.

James looked down at the still body by his feet.

He hadn't expected to kill so soon. But there was a wicked part of him that felt satisfied when he heard the crunch of his spear in Jo's back, jarring her spine. He'd hoped that in these Games, he wouldn't kill anyone without a reason. Without a reason besides the 'fellow tributes must die' excuse. But he felt this time, he had a valid reason.

He left his spear in Jo's body and took hers. She had no supplies so he didn't bother searching her. He left her there and walked away, the sound of the hovercraft echoing behind him. He walked forward another few steps to where his reason lay. In his hand he held the spear that had been seconds away from stopping his heart. That was a better reason than any.

Kendall lay still on his side, his hair hanging down over his face. His lips were slightly parted, and James could hear every breath he took. He knelt down next to him, brushing the hair out of his eyes. A smile crept out over his lips as he watched the boy lying there. He knew the cameras would see his. And didn't care all that much.

He wanted to examine Kendall's wounds, but decided that it would be better if he left them alone. He slid a hand down under Kendall's waist, another behind his knees, and picked him up. Standing up, he carried Kendall carefully across the forest floor, coughing a little at the smoke still surrounding them. But it wasn't as thick as before, and he knew he would be ok. It didn't take him long to get to the pond. He lay Kendall down gently next to the water, flat on his back. As he did, the blonde's eyes fluttered faintly and James froze. But Kendall didn't wake up. He would wake here, and find himself alone. Maybe he'd wonder how he got there, or maybe he'd just assume he was so dazed when he fainted he had no idea where he was. What mattered was that here, he could heal. Which was what James wanted.

And when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Kendall's sweaty forehead, before getting up and running off, all of Panem knew who James Diamond loved.

Well, there you go! XD

IMPORTANT. When the next chapter is posted, the rating is gonna go up. So look for this in the M section. THERE WILL BE SMUT. You get a shutout of you can guess who! XD lol, review! :)