"Wait!"

The voice is too high pitched to belong to a guy, and it stills on the near-dark air and crystallized there. Panting, I look up and see the peculiar shape of the metal hovering somewhere over me, and then I make out further features. An arm, a torso, a neck…though the face is difficult to determine given my supine position, it definitely belongs to a male.

"Who is it! You'd better talk fast, or I'm killing you." Spat out whoever the guy was, but I was certain it couldn't have been Knox, his voice was lower than this. It couldn't have been Haw either, it didn't have enough twang in it. One of the Careers? Like they were going to spare me.

I don't respond right away, for I wonder how it is I can see the metal in his hands, but no definite features of his hand, or anything else. "Herod." I finally manage to cough up, every muscle in my body tight and twitchy as hell. I could probably plant my foot in his crotch, and then maybe try and make a run for it. I was pretty sure I felt something skitter over my hand, which made me want to yank it back, but currently it and my other we supporting most of my weight.

"Herod!" came a vaguely familiar voice, the girl again. It can't be Farah, I know her voice. Unless maybe everything has changed since I've been in the arena. Was it her?

I can tell someone is moving closer to me, and I might've tried to come up with a few more possibilities, except without my knife, thin and small as it was, I was certainly going to die. "I can't see you. Oh God…" the girl whispered, and I know without asking she must've been able to determine some of my grisly appearance. "You're covered in blood." Her voice, whoever she was, dropped like a stone.

They could see me better than I could see them, and at this…I shift up slowly to my feet. Out from under the shadow of the bushes, I can see them for who they really are. Cynthia from District Ten stands before me, and next to her, closer to six foot, the kid from District Twelve. He's holding some kind of chisel-looking object, though he has lowered it to his side. This hardly means he can't use it. I wouldn't let it go, if I were him, that's for damn sure.

I might've much rather seen some combination of Farah, Knox, Motum, or Lurie, but I would take what I could get. All I needed was to find my knife, so if they pulled anything, I could at least try and maim one, maybe trip the other, and scamper away before they could do any lasting damage.

"Y-yeah…" I manage shakily toward Cynthia, and even in the near darkness, I can make out her features at this close of a range. Short dark hair, bigger eyes, it was her—though without the easy-going smile I was used to seeing. "I'm alright." Naturally the wound on my shoulder throbbed horrendously just then, seeking to prove me wrong.

"You're by yourself?" the kid from Twelve says, his head turning slightly to glance around.

"Yes. I—"

Another whimpering bark sound, ricocheting up through the air and freezing us all in our places. This sound was creepy enough, but did not hold a candle to whatever the hell had…cackled at me, a little further back, closer to the tree line. I can see they are both on edge. Was Cynthia just like Arko, waiting for me to drop my guard, and then attack? My gut should've told me no—unequivocally no, but I wasn't sure just what I knew right now.

"C'mon, lets get away from here, get out in the open." Suggested the guy from District Twelve whose name was escaping me right now. He was younger than me, but taller—go figure, right?

"I dropped my knife." I say without really thinking. Then again, was it really much different from them knowing I had a knife, considering I couldn't use it right now?

"I've got one." Cynthia says to me. "Noah's right…we can see if something is creeping up on us that way."

Regrettably I left my little switchblade somewhere on the ground. It had saved my life, whatever else I might want to say about the push-button knife. Following Cynthia and Noah—that's right his name is Noah—out and away from the heaviest line of shrubs and trees, I can see we're still far enough back on the plateau that we aren't in danger of falling off the edge or anything.

The moon was out, but behind a dense curtain of clouds. So thick that it was actually making it much darker out here than it probably needed to be. My mind was still racing, but my heartbeat had slowed a bit. I could try to tackle Noah and take his hammer, but Cynthia apparently had a knife herself. Hadn't she just gotten a three from the Gamemakers? The fact that every person I'd come across was armed, was not lost on me. I really had hauled ass away from that hill, seemingly faster than most everyone else.

The three of us stand there, glancing around us to ensure that nothing was going to sneak up on us. Eventually it was Cynthia who suggests that we stay back to back, sitting or standing, so that nothing can jump out at us. Currently my view was more toward the ridge of where our plateau headed back down to where I'd killed Arko.

"Have you seen anybody else?" Noah gets out, right as the same question was ruminating in my own mind but simply had not gotten to my lips yet.

I remember the odd weight in the cargo pocket of my pants contains my plastic bottle mostly full of water. Surely there's not enough in there to keep all three of us sated. They could kill me for my water bottle; I've seen tributes killed for less.

"Yeah." I hear myself saying. I should've lied. Unequivocally. Why the fuck I didn't lie, was beyond me. Maybe because I was hurting and exhausted, but that's still no excuse. If I was with Farah, Wren, or Knox, Wren especially, wouldn't have believed me if I were to say no. Cynthia and Noah, I might've been able to get away with it.

I sense Noah tense up a bit, and even if he's no rocket scientist, I am relatively he's a little quicker on the uptake than Cynthia there, all good-hearted and all.

"Where are they?" Cynthia asks.

Oh now it's out, isn't it? The silence is positively deafening, as my arm throbs at me while my body aches a bit as I am so focused on having enough energy to spring up and run, if necessary. Noah is quiet, not that I'd blame him.

"Down there." I say a bit hollowly.

More silence and I wonder if I'll be getting a knife in the back, or perhaps that hammer-looking thing to the side of my skull, thanks to Noah?

"Who was it?" Cynthia's voice squeaks out after what seemed like minutes, but surely hadn't been that long.

"He tried to kill me." I say. This is hardly how I would've liked our conversation to begin, but it seemed that my luck wasn't going to hold out forever. "Tricked me. Pulled a knife on me."

"Man…" Noah says slowly, and I can hear the sympathy in his voice.

Just that, makes my jaw hurt, and my tear ducts react. The fact that he wouldn't vilify me immediately, and I had a few tears falling down my face. Luckily neither of them could've seen, and I can't quite believe it myself. I hardly ever cry at home—I mean hardly ever. It may not even be a yearly event. "Umm," I say, and hearing my voice quiver a little bit of course makes me want to cry more intently. Holding it in makes it worse, but my younger company is thankfully silent as I swallow back the tightness in my throat.

I am a mess. I should've ran, I should've been paying attention to where the hell I was going. I shouldn't have dropped the knife. I should've lied about where I'd been. I shouldn't be crying right now. My brain can't seem to catch up with the fact that all these things, while seemingly bad, might turn out to be something positive. "Arko. He shows up and asks me if I've seen anybody. Then he asks me where the water is, and as I go to tell him, he stabs me."

"Are you alright?" I hear Cynthia's voice, and I feel her hand go and clamp around my forearm. The gesture is sweet, but I still find myself yanking away from her grasp as if she were a viper. I really don't mean to, it just happens. A nice girl like Cynthia from District Ten, asking me if I'm alright…makes me feel my emotions all welling up again.

"Doesn't surprise me." Noah says.

"Really?" I ask.

"Kenna said she didn't trust him. Yeah, she was paranoid about everyone, but she seemed to think that he was going to do something crazy as soon as he had the chance." Noah pauses a moment and then adds, his voice not quite breaking, although I can it's not far off. "She's dead."

"I'm sorry." I say again, without even thinking. It is genuine…I can't play any games right now. I know Roman would be ashamed of me probably, but I just can't manage it right now. I can't lie, I can't guard my responses. I should be leaping for joy that I've actually found some friendly allies…but everything seems a little different to me now. It's like I'm experiencing everything through a screen.

"I saw the boy from District Three get killed." Cynthia admits to the pair of us in the deepening evening. My eyes are getting more adjusted to the darkness, and now I can pick out a few more things in the landscape. Few stars though…the skies are just too cloudy for that. "Gage, that guy from One. He killed him." It seemed like there was more to that story, or more she was going to share, but I didn't push her. It was much easier to admit all of this to each other's backs. You didn't have to see people give you compassionate expressions, or avoid your eyes for pity's sake.

"I got this rock hammer from by the Cornucopia. That black kid from Eleven,"

In unison both Cynthia and I both say, "Pord."

"Yeah. He got it first, but I grabbed it from him, and kicked him down. Didn't see what happened from there, I ran as fast I could. I think I saw Knox and Motum, though I can't be sure. Saw the little blonde from District Five too. She started right by me. Haven't seen her since, though."

Little Lurie Sampson…the girl with the light up dress. She was shy, even shier than me. I hoped she was alive, I really did. With my tear tracts dry, I just hoped she'd not been killed yet. Or if she had, it had been quick.

"This knife I have, it's cause that Career from District Two was throwing it at Farah." Cynthia's voice is tight.

All of a sudden I feel as though a 500 pound weight has knocked me to the ground, and I even slouch forward, stretching the wound on my arm a bit so it flares up horrendously. Fine, I'm glad for the pain, because I do not want to process…anything…like that.

"I didn't see her go down or anything. She was running, fast. If it weren't for her, I think that Career would've seen me…there's no way I would've escaped. I can't run that fast." Cynthia shares with us.

"Hey." Noah says and I feel him shift a bit, sharpening his voice. "You can run just fine."

Here were these kids…both younger than me, who'd managed to get some weapons from the Cornucopia and at least saw a Career or two. I had ran away like a coward. Somewhere inside my head I can see Roman saying: a smart coward; but a coward none the less.

"Haven't seen anyone since over by the Cornucopia." Cynthia says.

"Me either." Noah echoes.

"I saw a couple of people going down into that circular valley thing, back over there…" I say, attempting to get the image of Farah dying out of my mind. What if she'd died like Arko had? My teeth hurt at the thought. I feel my lips pinching together and I cough, just to try and stave off such a thought.

"That's where I saw Cynthia."

"Yeah, but we didn't go down there. Looked too risky."

"Of course it does." I say, shaking any gory pictures of Farah's potentially mangled corpse from my mind's eye. "Same reason I didn't head down there."

"It's weird Arko wasn't with Wren." Noah is saying.

I really can't blame him, it's probably just what came to mind, but I really wish he'd not mention anything about District Six if he could help it at all. "Dunno." I say.

"She got an Eight. She's probably not dead." Cynthia intones.

"How do you figure?" Noah asks her. He doesn't say it, but somehow I know that Noah thought of the girl from Six, due to her beauty. Those blue eyes and dark hair, it was a good combination, to be sure. Cynthia here was nice looking, sure, but Wren was a beauty.

"She isn't dead." Cynthia says with conviction.

For some reason I can't help myself from agreeing with her statement. Wren was extremely impressive all-around. Intelligent, clever, well-spoken. She knew how to dress field wounds. Even if the Careers found her, it'd be to their advantage to try and take her prisoner, than just kill her. It sounded good to believe that Wren was still noble to the cause, and just Arko had been a devious little bastard.

Wait…what cause? Was there even any cause left? Part of me could say most definitely there was. Here I was relaxing for perhaps the first time during these Hunger Games, with two people I'd pledged to remain allies with. But some part of me wondered if Knox's idea wasn't all for naught. Nice sounding in theory, sure, but I'd already killed one of my supposed 'allies'. What Noah, Cynthia, and I were doing right now, was it really being allies? Or was it just the three of us happy to not have to kill one another yet?

"Haw's alive too, I can feel it." Cynthia says. I would feel good for her and Haw…they were both nice people, but all this does is make my mind return to Farah. So she was a fast…good. Still if the Careers were hunting her down, she had better have amassed some allies, or come up with some plan of attack. Cynthia and Noah are talking to each other but my mind is drifting. I've never felt like this in my entire life. It's as though my brain cannot focus on a single thing, it is like I'm experiencing 20 things simultaneously.

At least ten, maybe twenty—perhaps thirty minutes go by as I nestle in by Cynthia and Noah. Once again, I am surprised by the tributes that I have seen alive. Between the two of them and Arko, I just never would've figured on seeing them in the Arena. Somehow I got a set list in my mind of the tributes I'd be interacting with, and Cynthia, Noah, and even Arko…none of 'em had made the list.

"…stepped off the platform too soon." I hear Noah saying as I come out of my head. "She got her legs blown off."

"Oh my God." Cynthia gasps, which doesn't help the situation, as my mind sprawls back to the very beginning of these Games.

Kenna. That's who the brunette was that I saw disappear. She'd stepped off her...oh man. That explains the quake I felt, or why the kid from Three, who apparently is now dead too, was looking so jumpy. Kenna was screaming bloody murder because her legs had been blown off. We'd been informed that is what would happen if you left your post before the full minute had passed. "I saw her…" I whisper out, entirely without my recollection.

Cynthia's hand slides down over my forearm again, but this time I don't pull away. It feels foreign, but as her fingers twist and slide down my blood-caked arm, she gives my hand a squeeze. I find myself turning to find her in the darkness, but she seems just out of eye-sight so I give up, and instead give hers a squeeze back. I try to disengage our hands with the slightest of pressure, but she's got hers clamped onto mine.

Noah says, "At least we're still—"

A cannon blast makes us all pay attention. Less than a minute after that clarion sound, the first notes of the national anthem silence Noah entirely. Cynthia's hand slowly dislodges itself from mine, and I can sense both of them turning more my direction, to get a better view at the interior of the Arena. The pain in my arm goes away, and I notice just how clear the skies are. Suddenly I see plenty of stars winking down at us, and I'd not even bothered to notice how that had been accomplished.

Eventually the seal of Panem slips away, and on a projected screen, not unlike the one I now-knew to exist at the edges of this Arena, the first face is cast down upon us all. It is the kid from District Three, the one who I'd seen at the start of the Games and who Cynthia had seen die. He looked almost bored in his headshot. Next was Bells, the redhead from Three who'd sat next to me on the stage after my interview with Caesar.

My mind is still anxious to see Farah or for the oddest reason, Wren, but before that can occur I see none other than Tecla's lovely face smiling slightly down at me. With her lidded eyes and big mouth slightly curved, it's as though she knows a secret that I don't.

"Ha!" Cynthia shouts into the darkness around us, and I hear Noah make a soft amused noise, and I myself cannot help but smile. I'm actually smiling. It could be construed sick as to just why I am smiling, but I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth right now. Tecla was dead. Good.

This means that her rat-faced District mate was still alive. Damn it. Maybe Tecla's death had just been some kind of fluke? All these thoughts hiss out like fire in the rain, as I see Motum's almond shaped eyes, and handsome features looking almost challengingly down at me. The fact that Cynthia lets out an audible little sound of regret doesn't make that any easier. Noah doesn't seem to have any strong reaction, but who didn't like the Asian kid with the awesome sense of humor? What was there not to like! I brace myself to see Lurie's face next, but I do not.

I cannot celebrate the fact that Lurie hadn't succumbed to the same fate as Motum for long. Arko's face looking down at me from behind his glasses. He looks studious, clever, and alert in his picture. Seeing him makes my stomach turn, but I can't seem to look away even as it seems to me that the Capitol is keeping his face in the sky for an excessive amount of time.

The ugly guy from District Seven is shown next. Another Career was dead. I don't really know if he could be considered a Career, but he wasn't with us…so he was better off dead. What was his name?

"Two Careers. Wendell might not count...but he's dead." Noah says, referring to the guy from Seven, sounding genuinely impressed.

As Wendell's long horsy face fades from view, my stomach turns to granite. If Farah was dead, she'd be next.

Daisy Woodruff is gazing down upon us all instead, and I finally take a breath. It isn't right to shortchange Daisy's death, she seemed like an alright girl when I'd spoken with her, but the fact that Farah was alive washes over me like water. My muscles become slack and I realize I'm leaning back, almost into Noah, so I correct my posture. "Shit." He says. Obviously Noah must've had some better talks with her than I'd ever gotten with the girl.

Next is Pord, from Eleven. He looks very good in his headshot—far better than I'd ever seen him appear in real life. He is not smiling, but he looks at ease. I suppose…he is certainly at ease, now. His unattractive, dishwater blonde fellow tribute from Eleven winks into the sky right afterward. I cannot remember her name, but the hard part is over. When Kenna's face shows up with it's beyond green eyes, my face falls away. Not because I mean to be disrespectful, nor because I simply can't look…it is relief. Selfishly, even as Noah is right there, it is selfish relief. Farah Gilderling was looking up at these same faces, somewhere. Finally I come back to reality a little bit.

"Ten dead." Noah is saying, as I do.

"Means there's fourteen left." Cynthia responds. A moment and then her sweet voice adds, "Eight of us, just six of them."

I couldn't have kept track that accurately, but finally my brain catches up and I decide she's right. Unless of course Wren has defected, and is working with the Careers either by choice or by necessity. We still had Knox, Farah, Haw, and Lurie for sure…possibly Wren as well. The odds could've been stacked against us a whole lot worse. Yes we'd lost some people from our side, but so had they.

As Noah starts to pump us up with encouraging words, I am thankful for the boy some place he calls The Seam. Sounds to me more like what one of our prefectures ought to be called in Eight. I couldn't have managed to be as positive, and here…I hadn't even lost my district-mate. I knew I was not as good of a person as Noah, same went for Cynthia. I just wasn't. I hoped Wren was no traitor. Already, the Careers' six was a strong six. They really didn't need to be picking up any smart, pretty girls who could play field nurse.

This left myself, Cynthia, Noah, Farah, Knox, Lurie, Haw, and possibly Wren. Hopefully the other five were together. Just like us, if they were besieged by all six Careers, their chances of living were nominal. Still I built up a nice little scheme in my head. Knox would be the leader of course, and Farah or Wren would substantiate themselves as the second in command. Haw would be the comic relief, even if he didn't do so knowingly. Lurie would just be quiet and along for the ride...at least she still had a ride left.

"We should try and find them." Cynthia declared.

"Wait a minute…" I say, as I turn and see Noah already looking enthused. "We don't know what's out there. We have no idea where the Careers are." Earlier Noah had mentioned he was 14…and I knew Cynthia to be 16. Even if I was just older than her, I could tell I had a bit more life experience, and, not to be crass, more on the ball.

"But if the Careers find them…or us…we're screwed!" Cynthia said with passion behind her hazel eyes. "I've got a knife, he's got a rock hammer…and somewhere you've got your knife over there. If the Careers find us, we're dead."

"Hopefully Knox or Wren or someone found some good weapons, maybe some food." Noah says, and all of our stomachs growl on cue.

I tell them, "Right, we have to hope that. If the others aren't together, that's bad. We have to stick together. It is too dangerous to go looking right now. We shouldn't even build a fire. Up here it'll give our location away."

"Yeah…as if we could anyway." Noah says, but I know it isn't said with disdain. I am happy that he and Cynthia are letting me take over, even if I'd been the sad sack as recently as 20 minutes ago. They both listen to me.

"We'll have to get some sleep, we'd better take shifts. I know we don't have any food, so we'll have to go hunting in the morning. I've got Arko's glasses. If the sun cooperates, we can use them as a lens to start a fire. It won't be as obvious in the daylight, and if we hide it closer to the trees, maybe the Careers won't see the smoke. On the other hand," I stop to take a breath, "If we want to risk it, we could try and attract the attention of the others with our smoke."

Cynthia is looking impressed, solidarity in her hazel brown eyes.

"But they won't know if it's us or the Careers." Noah says.

"True." I admit, and am growing more impressed with the gray-eyed 14 year old, taller than me or not, by the minute. "We're safe up here, but there's no water."

"Maybe it'll rain." Cynthia says.

"I hope so." I smile at her, and I see her returning it more prominently than I even expected. Cynthia Reid was cute, no denying that.

Noah was saying, "We've really got to get something to eat. We had a nutrition bar that got knocked out of Pord's hands too…but we already split it."

I thought of the three hard candies in my own pocket. They might be a little bit of sugar, but they definitely were not going to sustain even one of us, let alone all three. If I had received a nutrition bar, I certainly wouldn't have already eaten it! It was pointless to get upset though. Cynthia was sweet, but not the brightest crayon in the box. Noah was smarter, but after all he was just 14. Three years younger than me…but those are three pretty important years. Wren was an old sixteen. Cynthia, not so much.

Cynthia and Noah get into a sudden conversation about food, which makes my stomach gurgle all the more, so I tune them out.

Chances were, the five non-Careers were not playing Swiss Family Robinson somewhere in the jungle. It seemed logical that one or two of them might be together, maybe even three…but all five, probably not. I hoped that Farah had found someone. Any of them would do really.

Knox was very smart, capable, and strong. Wren could be invaluable as a medic, as well as being clever and adept at a variety of things. Haw may not have been a genius, but he was a swifter than Cynthia, not to mention that he'd posted a 7 for the Gamemakers. Obviously he could do something. He didn't strike me as a slouch, in any regard. Even Lurie…she would remind Farah of her sister. Farah had told me that she was the loud one in her family. Obviously the Gilderling's weren't the loudest on the block. Lurie would be good company for Farah, I was certain of it; that alone could be invaluable to maintaining one's sanity.

I was the one with the semi-rejects, to be truthful. Still they had accepted me with all of my glaring faults, ones I was quite literally wearing on me right now. Well…maybe that was just survival, and not a fault, after all.

We had not heard any of the noises since we'd been talking fairly regular. Was that the key? If something was totally awful, it seemed like our noise would just attract it. The three of us seemed to be safe for the time being.

That's the problem with impressions, though.


A deep, quenching rain had covered the entire Arena. The droplets smacking off the leaves we'd used not only to hide just under their waxy boughs, but Noah had made a makeshift sort of funnel, to refill my water bottle. I'd downed the entire contents once, then we refilled it, and Cynthia had a turn, followed by Noah. With the water coming down so furiously, the plastic bottle filled up remarkably fast. Both Cynthia and I had drank two complete bottles of water, and by the look of it, Noah was about to get his second very soon.

"We really could use another one of these." I remark, tugging my t-shirt back on as the wet material slaps against my body. I have to gingerly arrange it down over my upper right arm, the stab wound inflicted there not big, but deep. Apparently there were worse places to get stabbed, than in your arm. This wasn't said to either Cynthia nor Noah, but more to myself. Of course I really could use a gun, or some proper food, but for now another bottle would suffice. What about Cynthia's sponsors, or Noah's? I hoped they had some.

In the light of day, it had been Cynthia's keen eyesight that had spotted the switchblade. To my delight, but also some to my trepidation, she'd agreed to let me hang onto the hunting knife, while she'd take possession of the switchblade. This seemed almost needlessly giving—even if we were allies now, that didn't mean we always would be. Sure that switchblade had saved my life, but compared to the all-black, far sturdier knife I now possessed with it's comfortable hand grip and all, not to mention it's carrying case which I'd already tied around my lower leg, Cynthia had definitely wound up on the losing side of that transaction.

We'd caught and killed some small frightened thing which looked a bit like a squirrel, except that it had larger ears and an even bushier tail. That in of itself had been somewhat comical, with the three of us chasing it from tree to tree. It was not as though these tropical things could be climbed. They were far too spindly to support even Cynthia's weight, she'd already tried.

It was bigger than a squirrel, but not by much. With it's fur and all, the thing might've been roughly the size of a small cat, but it didn't have as much meat on it's bones. It would've been nice to have a gut hook on my hunting knife, but for something this small, it wasn't really necessary. Besides while I knew how to skin a small animal like this, Cynthia or Noah might've been better at it anyway.

I had been outvoted, and therefore had to hold off on skinning the creature. Noah and Cynthia seemed to think the rain would stop, the sun would come out, and we'd be able to get a fire going. I knew it wouldn't be good for morale to start handing down declarations; better to save whatever power I possessed as 'leader' for when it was even more important.

Eating this thing raw, was going to be horrible…I could already tell. There wasn't much fat on it, so the meat was going to be sinewy and stringy. Still at least we were getting water, and that is even more important than food. Noah's funneling system worked well, and I watched him guzzle out of my water bottle in one fell swoop, before setting up the 'funnel' once more. From the look of things, the skies didn't seem to be clearing off anytime soon, but I remember how quickly they had cleared off for the anthem last night.

Was this rain real, or engineered by the Gamemakers? Reminded me of the futility of trying to plan on much of anything in here. We were all rats in a maze, which they could alter at any given moment.

Cynthia had only incurred a couple of scratches and abrasions, nothing too terrible. Noah had gotten a couple of deep gouges across his shin, and another, lighter one, by his ankle. He'd described the animal as something like a big weasel. From the looks of it, Noah was lucky that he'd gotten away from the thing, whatever the hell it had been. He tells us that it had chased him, just before he met up with Cynthia.

The meat we'd caught had wanted nothing more than to get away from us. I thought of the peacock, and then of the spider. That peacock had been very standoffish, while the spider I'd killed yesterday, had run right back for me once I'd kicked it away. The animal who'd gashed Noah seemed to exhibit similar characteristics. No spider I knew was going to chase down prey that was a hundred times bigger than it. How were we to know which animals were going to attack on sight, and which weren't?

If they run right at you, you probably know. A tricky game to play, but how else were you to determine something like that? Seemed like there were engineered animals in here, but also natural ones.

I hear Noah explaining that he knows a thing or two about dynamite. Apparently his older brother and father work in the mines. Good to know…except that we didn't have any dynamite lying around. Noah has a twin sister named Catie. Cynthia had no brothers or sisters. I eventually tell my allies about my own sister, which makes me miss her and my entire family and all my friends very strongly. I push it from my mind best as I can, watching my water bottle slowly but surely fill up to the quarter full point, and slowly beyond.

A black shape clips across the sky from somewhere above us, out over the lip of the plateau we're on, the rain battering it's wings and making it look entirely silly.

"That poor thing. Don't birds know better than to stay put?" Cynthia says. My first thought is that if it hadn't been moving so fast, we could've tried to catch it and eat it. We need as much protein as possible.

I decide that I like Cynthia much better out of the Arena. Back at the Training Center she'd been funny and easy-going. In here she seemed unabashedly well…girly. Still she'd held my hand last night, and I couldn't help but feel closer with her, than with Noah. He was the better ally, undoubtedly, but while I had no reason to dislike Noah, something about his personality fell flat for me. Noah was not too much of anything. This was both a good and a bad thing.

"That's a bat." Noah says assuredly. "We get them, back home."

Makes sense…those things going to roost last night hadn't been strange birds, they were bats. Again I had to be thankful that it didn't dive bomb us or something. Seemed like for the time being, we were on easy street.

"Still, don't bats have brains enough not to fly when it's raining?" Cynthia challenges with a chuckle.

As she and Noah talk some more, that gets my mind thinking and I hop up, surveying our surrounding area more carefully. This plateau has denser jungle to the north. The only easy way of getting up here, seems to be the way I, and my companions had gotten here. I couldn't be certain about the northern side, but from my vantage point, all other sides of this plateau were too steep to climb.

If the Careers were smart, they'd be moving while it rained. Everyone's instincts would be to stay in one place until it stops. We were sitting ducks up here. If they started climbing up after us, what were our options? Stay and fight, or throw ourselves off the side of the cliff down into the valley below.

Amidst the rain, Noah goes off to relieve himself and I am sitting there, still rather wet with just Cynthia Reid from District Ten. She's looking at me curiously, but I am almost certain that whatever it is that's on her mind, it isn't of particular importance. I like Cynthia, I really do, but even if by some miracle she and I were the final two tributes, one would have to kill the other—that's how the Games are played. My mind falls to thinking, if Noah were to die, there'd be one less mouth to feed…one less person to worry about. It's awful, but I cannot help myself it seems. Noah is the better ally, but the Hunger Games aren't really about making allies…not when all is said and done. Better that he die here and now, then Cynthia can be picked off later, easily.

I'm almost certain there is no Hell, but if there is…I must be going to it. Good people don't have thoughts like this, they just don't.

"I'm so happy we found you." Cynthia tells me, and she's smiling that effervescent smile of hers. She's playing around with Noah's rock hammer, sinking the head into the mushy ground.

"So am I." It isn't a complete lie. I am happy that they found me and allowed me to lead them in whatever way I thought was best.

"We're just so lucky to have found you, Herod. I don't know what we would've done, if…"

Cynthia's proclamation is cut short, and we both jump to our feet amidst screams from the nearby jungle. My heart is hammering into my throat, and on instinct, I snatch up my bottle of water, the funnel of leaves spilling to the ground. Half a second later, even with my arm throbbing, I snatch up the carcass of the thing we'd caught. I see movement, and seconds later, the funnel's designer comes charging from the bushes, half holding his pants up as he screams, "Run, run!"

Cynthia has already turned and begins heading toward the lip of the plateau, when the same rolling cackle descends down upon us, attacking our ears. The sound almost makes me drop everything in my hands, but as I stuff the bottle of water into my pocket, I bother to look back.

There is a dark shape emerging from the densest part of the jungle, and I turn tail, and run my ass off. As I arrive at the edge of the sloppy terrain, I can see Cynthia already vaulting herself down the side. I see her slip and tumble, but catch herself vaguely on the waterlogged slant of the hill. Noah's eyes are wide as they briefly meet mine, before he throws his legs out, and starts sliding down the mud-laden wall of earth.

My knife is still in it's sheath on my shin, but once I hear the rolling cackle, low and undulating it sparks my muscles into movement and I am soon following after Noah. Everything becomes a mess, as I go siding and scraping down the embankment with startling velocity. Mud is splattering up into my face, and then my stomach drops down into my throat as I go tumbling wildly through the air, before I land onto hard ground.

Wind squeezed from my lungs, I gasp and splutter like a fish on the riverbank, dizzy and uncertain of just what had transpired. I hear Noah coughing somewhere, or at least I think it's him. In my dim view of the world around me, I slip over onto my side, shaking as I look up to where we'd been. Just a shadow of something, looking down at me through the sense veil of rain. Though I cannot see it's eyes, I know it sees me. We watch each other, and then it is gone.

Moments pass as the rain beats down upon me, plastering everything I own against me. Swallowing deep, getting a bit of rainwater mixed in, I see Noah lying there, face-down but he's slowly turning to face me. Nearby Cynthia is flat on her back. All of us escaped the…oh why hadn't it followed us? And just what the hell was that thing! It moved as fast as we did, that's for fucking sure. We were all safe. This was welcome news.

At least until I realize that I don't think Cynthia is moving.