Later on, I could have reflected on the irony of Cato warning us to be on our guard, and then walking directly into the force field. At the time, however, I was more concerned with the brief but painful electric shock which was passed to me through the chain.
The instant his sword hit the force field, his body was flung backward and into a tree, where he convulsed several times before becoming still. Both of our cuffs had opened and fallen to the ground, emitting the odd spark at times. Peeta tried to run to me, but Finnick instead grabbed his elbow and used his weight to muscle them toward Cato. Rory and Thresh helped me off the ground, my chest feeling like it had been punched, my head throbbing. As I pushed off the ground, a pain in my wrist dropped me back on my butt. I brought it up to my face, and tried to focus on it. There was a ring of red, angry flesh where the metal had burned away the skin before it released me.
The boys helped me sit against a tree, and began digging into the trunk for water. Suddenly, everybody in the group let out a simultaneous cry, and collapsed on the ground. The Panem anthem began to play, and Plutarch Heavensbee's face appeared in the sky and he began to speak:
"Hello tributes! I'm sorry to stop the action so soon into the first day, but we seem to be having a technical malfunction with one set of tributes' cuffs. I must ask that everyone stay on the ground until I give the announcement to continue. Should anyone violate this order, they will be shocked until compliance is met. Thank you and please stand by."
Head still pounding, I looked up and saw a hovercraft which stopped above us. A ladder descended and four Peacemakers climbed down, one of them holding another set of cuffs and chain. Wordlessly, he placed one onto my burned wrist and pulled me to Cato.
"Commencing test pulse," he muttered into an earpiece, after fastening the other end to Cato's limp wrist and tossing it onto his chest.
A quick shock, smaller than what I had received from the force field, ran through me, making me shriek like Prim with a spider and I collapsed back into the dirt. Cato, however, sat up with a gasp.
"Cato!" I gasped hoarsely. I attempted to crawl to him but the Peacekeeper's words stopped me.
"District 12!" he barked. "I would recommend you stay still until Gamemaker Heavensbee gives the order to continue the Games, unless you would like to be shocked again."
He held up a small, black device in his hand with a cruel smile, daring me to move again. I simply stared back at him, wishing that he was a tribute in the Games. He would be one I would have no remorse putting an arrow between those smug eyes.
"Alright men, let's get back to the entertainment," he yelled over his shoulder. The four then each grabbed a rung on the ladder, and the hovercraft swallowed them up again. Plutarch's cheerful face appeared in the sky again, and I felt my hatred for him and all things Capitol grow until it physically hurt my chest.
"I am glad to announce that the malfunction has been rectified, and let the 75th Hunger Games recommence!" he trilled. "May the odds be ever in your favor!"
His announcement was immediately followed by another round of booming cannons; only four this time.
I immediately made my way to Cato's side, tripping over my own feet. It seemed that the double shocks had completely drawn away my balance and coordination. I didn't have far to go, and fell down by his head. He had lain down again, his eyes shut, and I could only begin to fathom how terribly he must have felt. I pushed back his hair, and grey eyes opened to stare up at me.
"What happened?" he moaned.
"You walked into a force field, idiot," I responded, reproachfully. "You almost got me killed too." I showed him the burn under the cuff, which seemed to be looser than the one I previously had. I focused my eyes on it, a harder task than I remembered. It didn't have my or Cato's name. In fact, all the identifications seemed to have been scratched off. I felt sick to my stomach; this had belonged to a now dead tribute.
Peeta must have seen my face pale, because he came rushing to me and gathered me up into his arms. I allowed him a quick hug, but gently pushed him aside to check on Cato. Finnick snuck up behind me.
"The force field stopped his heart," he whispered into my ear. "I managed to pound it beating again and get him breathing before the cuffs paralyzed us. I guess the test they administered brought him back to consciousness."
He turned my head to face him with a finger under my chin.
"So how about a kiss for my trouble?" he continued, his face ridiculously close to mine. I smiled coyly back at him, and put my hand into his arrogant, handsome face and pushed him away from me.
I turned back to Cato, and asked Finnick, after he stopped laughing, to help me get him seated against a tree. Peeta had already taken one of Finnick's woven bowls and filled it with the warm tree water. He held it out to me, but I gestured for him to give it to Cato first.
"How do you feel?" I asked him.
"Fine," Cato bit out, his teeth gritted and his hands trembling. "I feel just peachy."
"You and Katniss both need to just rest," Rue suggested with a bright smile. "I've touched the electric fence before while trying to get to an apple in the orchard. It just takes a couple of hours before you'll start to feel better."
My first reaction to Rue's innocent words was shock. They would send a small girl like her to an area that had a shock risk? She must have noticed my face, because she went on to explain that they sent the children into the tallest parts of the tree, where the branches would have buckled under the weight of the adults. She had been reaching for a far lying apple when her grip on the branch slipped and her hand came into contact with the fence. She had fallen from the tree, but a worker on the ground managed to catch her. The overseer had given her the rest of the day off.
"Let's set up camp here," Brutus ordered. "It'll be getting dark soon. Katniss, give me a set of your bow and arrows and Rue and I will get some dinner."
I handed him my spare set and they traipsed off into the jungle, Rue almost jogging to keep up with his long strides. As I was pondering how Brutus was going to get around Rue's adverse reaction to killing, Peeta let out a startled cry and Finnick swore violently. Turning to them, slowly so my head did not explode, I saw that they were kneeled by Clove and the Morphling, who still had not risen after Plutarch's order. As I stared, Cato had managed to get to his feet and was unsteadily lumbering toward their prone forms. I followed after him silently, Peeta coming quickly to support me.
He roughly shook Clove's shoulder, telling her that now was not the time to rest yet. When she didn't respond, he fumbled for a pulse. After a few seconds with his fingers at her neck, he stiffened and quickly stood.
"We need to move away from here," he said stonily. "The hovercrafts need to collect their bodies."
He made it exactly three paces before collapsing.
"We need to wait for Rue and Brutus to return," Peeta rationalized. "They won't know where we've been, and, even if Brutus can track us, he might think we abandoned them."
Thresh and Rory dragged the still unconscious Cato against a trunk.
"How did they die?" Rory questioned. "It couldn't have been another tribute. We all ate the same thing. What could it have been?" He was almost shouting at this point, scared to the point of tears.
"The Morphling's heart," Finnick replied solemnly. "I've never seen her without the drug. I guess years of abuse weakened her heart, and the sudden electric jolt was just enough to cause it to fail. Clove must have gotten the killing shock immediately after being stunned. The other two cannons must have been for the other Morphling reaped and his arena partner."
He swore again, and motioned to Peeta to help him pull down some of the broad leaves from the trees. They covered the bodies with them, and we sat facing them, nobody saying a word. I gazed over at Cato, and his face was troubled, even unconsious. Remembering how he had comforted me after my breakdown with Prim the night before our launch, I brought his head down into my lap, stroking his hair. Thinking back to what he told me about the academy at District 2, I wondered how close he had been to Clove. Surely they had been in the same classes and even trained together. They appeared to be of similar age. I hadn't even thought to ask. I thought back on all those dead tributes, whose names I hadn't even thought to memorize much less their ages, siblings, favorite songs, color, memories.
Sighing, I brought my gaze up to my allies. The first day of the arena had already taken their toll on them. Rory's eyes had taken a panicked, hunted expression that I knew would never leave them, even if he was to become a Victor. Peeta sat beside me, his head resting on his fists against his bent knees, breathing heavily. Even Finnick's eyes had lost their sparkle and snap as he stared blankly at the covered bodies. He won his own Games 10 years ago, and must have at least been well acquainted with all the Victors. He may have even known the Morphling before she had gotten to this stage, when her body was younger and better able to tolerate the drug. Thresh appeared unaffected, but he kept a hand on Rory's shoulder, his jaw tense.
Lost in our own thoughts, nobody noticed the silver parachute that landed by my feet until I kicked it. Opening the lid on the jar that it carried, it contained a cream that smelled medicinal. Assuming that it was meant for me, I applied it lightly to my burns. To my relief, it immediately stopped the pain and created a barrier on my wrist to protect it from being rubbed raw by my new cuff. Thinking back, I remembered that Cato had been holding a sword, which was currently lodged in a tree, when he hit the barrier. Picking up one of his large hands, I examined the palm and applied the cream to the scratches he had acquired when he was tossed back by the force field. His other hand, however, was a bloody, burned mess. Another parachute quickly floated down, this time carrying a small first aid kit. Fishing the bandages out of it, I applied cream liberally to the inside of his hand, and carefully wrapped his hand in gauze. Hopefully it was the same medicine that Haymitch had sent me last year when I had been burned. If so, we'd be fine in a few hours.
Rue and Brutus returned about half an hour later with another tree rat and bowlfuls of berries and nuts. We explained to them about Clove and the Morphling, and we moved a short distance away, Rory and Thresh supporting a still insensible Cato. I watched the hovercraft reappear, this time a four pronged claw descended and grabbed Clove, the Morphling dangling below her on the chain like a contorted puppet, swinging in the slight breeze. This time, I did lose my lunch behind a clump of bushes with brightly colored, sweet smelling flowers. Rory was kind enough to bring me a bowl of water to rinse out my mouth.
Peeta and Finnick remade the fire, and set the pot over it to boil water while I skinned the tree rat. I shook Cato awake to eat, and he took his rations without a word. He still required some help to sit up, but his hands seemed steadier as he shoveled the stew into his mouth. I smiled sardonically to myself, pondering how furious Effie must be with Haymitch and the other mentors for not sending us utensils, forcing us to eat with our hands. I wondered if he had actually done it on purpose.
We moved away from the smoke of the fire again after our meal, this time following the force field. Because Cato refused to accept assistance to walk now that he was awake, Finnick found him a long stick which he used to lean on when he felt weak. We moved about a quarter mile before the light dimmed, and we decided to camp for the night. I dreaded the nightly recap of the dead; dreaded seeing the tributes which I had personally killed; dreaded seeing the first two members of the alliance to fall. When the Capitol seal appeared in the sky and the national anthem finished, the faces started to appear. Because of the nature of these Games, not a single district was spared. They stuck to the color code for partners, but listed each dead tribute by district number. Two tributes dead from District 1; Enobaria, who Cato had beheaded at the Cornocopia, and Clove from District 2 (I felt Cato tense beside me, and I grabbed his hand in the dark which he squeezed tightly); three dead from District 3; three from District 4, including the old woman that had volunteered (Finnick had let out a choked sound when her face was displayed and bowed his head); all four from District 5; all four from District 6; three from District 7; Cecelia and two others from District 8; three from District 9; two from District 10; Chaff from District 11, whom I recalled drinking and laughing with Haymitch during training; and, finally, Justine from District 12. Total from just one day of Games: 32 dead, 16 still alive.
I thought I had prepared myself to see her when I saw Cecelia's face in the sky, but I broke down crying anyways. I sobbed through the closing music, angry with myself for giving up on her so quickly. I should have stood up against Cato when he refused to allow them into the alliance. I should have protected her against the distortion of the Captiol's moralities. I should have thought of her family back in 12, who must hate me for the same reasons I hated myself. More than a year's worth of normal Hunger Games tributes had died today, all in the name of entertainment for the Capitol and punishment for past crimes that few alive had witnessed in the Districts. The unbalanced situation threatened to bring the rebellious nature in me back to the surface, but all it took was Prim's cruel smile in my dream to bring me back to the present. Whatever Snow had planned for her should I die in the arena, I had to prevent from occurring at all costs.
I pulled myself together, breathing deeply, and registered the feel of Cato's now familiar arms surrounding me. He had buried his face in my shoulder, his own breathing uneven. I waited, my arms wrapping tightly around him as well, until he loosened his arms. Determination coupled with grief reflected back in our eyes, and I looked at the group. We were all exhausted, and now emotionally downtrodden. Not a single one of us had been spared the agony of seeing someone we were familiar with, close to, in the sky that night. A loud snap had us all on our feet, but it was simply Brutus, who had managed to crack a two inch thick branch clean in half, his face a mask of fury. I wondered if it had been Enobaria he was currently mourning or even if it was more than one person.
"Cato and Katniss are too weak right now to hunt tributes," Brutus stated. "Let's set up a watch schedule and get some rest tonight. We'll start tomorrow."
That's right. I was part of the Career tribute pack now. We would have to go around hunting stray tributes, and then finally hunt each other when the alliance inevitably dissolved.
It was decided that Thresh and Rory would take the first watch, Peeta and Finnick the second, Brutus and Rue the third, and Cato and I would be allowed to sleep through the night to recover from our encounter with the force field. The headache had receded at that point, but I still had a stiffness in my joints. I knew Cato had to be feeling it even worse than I. Neither of us argued with the arrangement.
I sat down at the base of a tree, reclining against it and wiggled to get comfortable. Cato settled himself on the other side of the tree, his recovered sword close by. Finnick pulled down some more broad leaves and set them on the ground. Peeta laid down next to me, while Finnick simply laid his head on my outstretched legs with a sly smile. I swatted at his head playfully, but let him stay. I was still grateful to him for reviving Cato. I fell asleep with Peeta's hand clutched in my own.
Several hours later, I was startled awake by a loud clanging of bells. Everyone in the group was immediately at the ready, grasping at their weapons and eyes scanning the dark jungle for danger. Lightning appeared fairly close to us after the 12th ring, rattling the air with thunder.
"Let's move away from here!" I yelled between the thunderclaps. "We won't get any sleep staying anyways."
My headache had disappeared and my muscles had lost most of their weakness. Cato, too, seemed stronger. We set off downhill at a diagonal away from the lightning, Cato and I bringing up the rear. Quietly, Cato again pulled me behind a tree and we fell behind the rest of the group. Putting a finger to his lips, he peeked from behind it. I began to panic, thinking that he meant to sever the alliance early. As I turned to hiss a question at him, I heard shuffling in the bushes. Two figures walked past us, Cato holding me back.
"Follow behind," he breathed into my ear. "You target the one on the left; I'll take out the one on the right. Move quickly. Stay quiet."
I wasn't sure why it was so imperative for me to stay quiet, since the thunder was loud enough to cover us. But we snuck up behind them, and I readied an arrow at the back of the tribute's head. She went down soundlessly, and her partner turned to us startled. Cato chopped off her head just as easily as he had on the beach, her flowing, red hair flying. Two cannons sounded, and we went around the bodies to catch up with the others. I heard Peeta calling for me, probably startled to find that Cato and I were missing and afraid the cannons were for us.
"We're fine!" I yelled back. We caught up to them, and he pulled me into a crushing hug.
"We heard the cannons, and you weren't there," he panted. "I had thought…"
"I know," I shushed. "I'm fine. Cato heard someone following us and we took them out before they could cause us any trouble. I didn't know either them, but I remember seeing the red-head during training."
"I think they may have been stealing from us," Finnick remembered. "I had made ten bowls and one was missing earlier. It was one that was filled with the leftover stew. I had assumed that I had simply misplaced it, but the bowl showed up again, empty. It was an interesting strategy, but wouldn't have gotten them too far."
Sighing at adding yet another tick to my kill count, I concentrated on Prim, steeling my resolve again. The thunder and lightning had stopped, and we decided to just spend the rest of the night where we were. When the first drops of rain started to fall, I reveled in the prospect of being able to cool off. By the time the first drop fell into my open mouth, it had turned into a torrential downpour. As the taste registered, I heard Rue scream and the world turned red before my eyes.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! They definitely influence the way I write and the approach I take to certain situations. I briefly toyed with the idea of having them settle into an area filled with unicorns who shot rainbows at them through their horns, but I'll save that for a crackfic ;). It's my theory that in the arena in Catching Fire, the hell of the clockwork didn't start until midnight, since the Games started around 10 am, but we didn't start off with a giant wave washing on shore, and nobody mentioned seeing a lightning show at noon that day. Thanks for reading!
Edit: I had someone point out to me that my math didn't add up, which they were totally right. I edited the recap of the dead tributes and added a current to the time tally.
