Chapter 8:

Bloodbath


I'm taking long gulps from a glass of water. I don't know when my next drink will be, so I want to be as hydrated as I can.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Zackar asks me.

I nod. "Just feeling a bit queasy," I respond.

"Eat these crackers." Zackar responds, picking a small bowl up off the table and handing them to me. I nibble on them in between drinks of water. I think this is my eighth glass.

I glance over to the tube the will take me up to the Arena all too soon. I could be dead in ten minutes.

The thought makes me tremble.

Zackar takes my hand. "You'll be alright." he whispers. "You're smart. You're talented. And from what Moore tells me, you can throw quite a punch."

I laugh half-heartedly.

I look down at my shoes. They're brown sneakers, built to be waterproof and good for running. I'm wearing long socks, ankle length denim pants, a white cotton short-sleeved shirt, and a brown jacket. The jacket is one of the more interesting parts for me. The outside is water-proof, and the inside is soft. But it's obviously not designed for warmth, more cover than anything else.

Considering the shoes and the jacket, I'm obviously going somewhere mildly damp, which relaxes me a bit. But not much.

Zackar has put my hair in a tight, elaborate braid which I won't be able to undo unless I actively try.

On my arm, I have my mother's bracelet. I toy with it a bit, trying to calm myself down. It doesn't help.

I think about my strategy.

Grab whatever's in front of me at the Cornucopia, don't go farther than the backpacks. Get out of there quickly. Meet Peach and Perry. If any of us are delayed, go without the other. Find water. Find a tree to climb up. Don't draw attention to yourself. Once you know who's died the first day, go from there.

A voice announces it's time to prepare for launch.

I take one more big gulp of water. So big I almost choke, but I power through. Trembling, I make my way to the metal plate that will take me up into the Arena.

Zackar squeezes my hand, then lets go as the glass cylinder drops.

I wonder vaguely what would happen if I just stepped out now, let the plate go up without me. Or what would happen if I, say, dragged Zackar in here with me?

Strange thoughts. Stuff that nobody's ever done because they just want to live.

I finger at the hard lump on my arm where a man injected a tracker in me earlier. It hurts.

When the platform begins to rise, I really begin to panic. I'm in a tight, pitch black space.

My breathing quickens pace. When am I going to get out of this bit?

I count. One… two… three… four… five… six… a small beam of light appears at the top of the cylinder… seven… it's stretching farther down… eight… it's hitting my forehead… nine… it's stretching over my whole head, but I can't see… ten… it's over my whole torso, and my eyes are trying to adjust… eleven… and I'm out.

The light is still bright, too bright to make out anything but shapes.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Games announcer, booms over the Arena "Let the Sixty-eighth Hunger Games begin!"

There's sixty seconds that we have to stand on the platform, but we don't have a timer. We just have to wait for the gong to sound.

So I start counting.

One… two… three… I see Perry, a few spots to the left of me… four… five… six… seven… we're in a field that reminds me of pictures I've seen of District 11... It's corn rows… eight… nine… ten… Peach is completely on the other side of the semi-circle… eleven… twelve… thirteen… there's a deep purple backpack about twenty yards from me… fourteen… fifteen… sixteen… seventeen… eighteen… nineteen-

BOOM!

I jump and almost lose my balance. Apparently someone stepped off their platform too early. If you do that, you get blown up.

The person was only one spot to my right. My ears are ringing and I feel dazed. I've lost my count.

I stance myself to run at anytime. I wait a few more seconds and I hear the gong.

I sprint for the backpack and reach it first, throwing it over my shoulder before anyone else has a chance to get it. I scramble quickly to my feet and begin to run towards the rows of corn, where I can see Peach waiting just behind the first layer of stalks-

Something hard hits me from behind.

I fall to the ground and turn over as quickly as I can.

Bubble's on top of me. I throw a good, hard punch at her face and she's bewildered for a few moments that allow me to throw her off balance. I try to get away, but she pulls at my hair and pins me down again, this time holding both my arms with one hand while she waves a knife tauntingly in front of my face.

"Those eyes of yours really are pretty," Bubble taunts. "Do you think you'll scream as much as your Mommy?"

I try my best to get away from her, but I just can't. It's hopeless. I'm going to get killed at the Cornucopia.

And then a beautiful thought hits me. I can see the small lump in Bubble's arm where her tracker was inserted. It's in the arm that's holding mine down.

I crane my neck and bite her arm as hard as I can, right at the spot where her tracker is.

The pain causes her arm to give out and she falls on top of me with no way to steady herself.

I roll her over and grab the hand holding the knife. I wrestle with her over it. She slaps me across the face, but I keep fighting. I spare a hand to press as hard on her face as possible, so she can't see. I reach down and bite her hand. She finally loosens her grip enough for me to grab the knife and I immediately stab it into her windpipe. Followed by her chest. Then her chest again.

I wipe the blade on her shirt, grab her other knife out of her belt, and stick them both into mine.

And then I run. Fast.

When I hit the rows of corn, I know that Peach and Perry will be long gone. It's okay. It was apart of our plan to run if one of the others couldn't make it in time. They probably think I'm dead.

I run until I'm completely out of breath, then stop a moment to catch it and inspect my body for any injuries. There's a nick on my wrist and one of my palm from the struggle over the knife. I inspect my face and when I pull away my hand it's covered in blood.

I panic for a moment before I realize that this is Bubble's blood. She coughed it on me when I stabbed her.

I shake myself and start forward again, using my jacket to wipe the blood off of my face.

Before too long, I come to the edge of the corn field. But now I'm in a grassland, going upwards slightly, so I need to keep going. I try to stick to the sparse trees, and walk until my legs are aching. Even then I keep going until I reach a stretch of fence.

I peer around. The word farm registers. There's a giant, decrepit barn, a dangerously old wooden house, a few scattered trees, a fence surrounding the whole property, and a stream!

Grinning to myself, I climb the fence and run to a spot in the stream concealed by a large willow tree, all ache in my legs forgotten. I'm not planning on drinking right away, but I rinse all of Bubble's blood off my face.

I examine the contents of my backpack. A water bottle, some iodine, a spool of fishing line, a small knife, some sunglasses, a blanket, a rope and a package of beef strips.

Pleased with this, I tuck my third knife into my belt and pull out the water bottle and iodine to get some water.

I put on the sunglasses, only to find that they're completely useless. They make it harder to see.

Bewildered by this, I tuck the glasses back into the backpack, wondering what's wrong with the Capitol.

While I wait for the water to purify, I start walking upstream, interested in how far the stream goes. It seems to get much narrower the farther I go, and by the time I reach a clump of woods not ten minutes later, it branches out into a few trickling mini-streams.

I walk back to my spot with the willow, intending to follow the stream downriver to see where it ends up.

First, I take a break, waiting the last ten-ish minutes for my water to finish, then drink it greedily.

I've already drank a lot today, but everything counts. After finishing the bottle, I fill it up again and before setting out on my journey, I go to check out the decrepit old house.

Glancing inside, I see that it consists of two rooms. I glance around cautiously before carefully setting foot inside. There's a loud, ominous creak. Someone heavier would break through the floorboards.

I grin to myself and carefully make my way to the other room. I could sleep in here. The Careers would never make it past the porch even if they did suspect someone would make their camp in here- in which case I would hear them and be able to arm myself.

I walk carefully around both rooms, figuring out where it creaks loudest so I would know not to step there. I find a spot in the second room where it hardly creaks at all and decide that that's where I'll sleep. I put my blanket there, because frankly, it's too heavy to lug around in my backpack all day.

Satisfied with this, I cautiously make my way out of the old house and set on my journey downstream.

After a half hour or so of walking, in which I pass through a small section of thin woods, I find myself at a lake in a clearing.

I turn and start walking again, making a mental map for myself. So far, I know the length of the stream, the lake, my farm, and a bit of the corn field.

I scan the trees, looking for any sign of Peach and Perry. However, after an hour or so of searching, I can't find either of them, so I admit defeat and head back to my house.

When I'm close to the edge of the woods, I hear a strange rustling noise.

I stop, look around. I don't see anything. Thinking that maybe it was just a bird I start walking again, only to hear the same noise, closer this time.

I take one of my knives out of my belt, ready to throw it if need be.

I hear the rustling noise again right before a cannon goes off.

Cursing to myself and listening for the rustling, I start counting the cannons. Each one symbolizes a dead tribute.

One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine…. Nine.

I hear a rustle again. I'm starting to get a bit freaked out now.

I glance around wildly, continuing towards the edge of the woods. The rustling is following me.

At some point, it turns into a kind of chase. I'm going as fast as I can, but the rustling just keeps following me.

I'm starting to panic and I can see the edge of the forest-

"Denim!"

I nearly jump out of my skin and throw my knife at the source of the noise, quickly drawing another.

I hear a male voice cursing quite colorfully and a female giggle from above me.

I look up at the agitated and amused faces of Peach and Perry.