Hail the Conquering Hero
(AUTHOR'S NOTE. The sex and violence level is higher here than in previous chapters, but still within the T classification, I think)
Chapter 10 The Trap
They retreated inside the Cornucopia for privacy. Neither could remember seeing inside the structure in any prior Game, so they assumed that there were no cameras to spy on their lovemaking. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as Clove's bed at the Academy – Clove had to lie on a discarded sack - but after all, this WAS a Hunger Games arena.
Afterwards Clove fell asleep, still naked. She looked not only desirable, but vulnerable. Was it really possible that, up to a few hours ago, they had actually been planning to kill each other in the end? They hadn't really TALKED about it much – most of the talk was about getting rid of the bitch from 12 – but it had been at the back of his mind. And Clove had been aware of the possibility ever since she had decided to volunteer for his Games.
And without the distraction of the Games business, Cato realized how much he cared for Clove. It was deeper than the lust he had felt for Glimmer, or the fantasies he had about girls throwing themselves at his feet once he returned home as victor.
Clove began to stir. "Wha' happened?" She looked down, saw that she was naked, and hastily threw her arms across her breasts.
"Everything's all right," assured Cato. "We're safe in the Cornucopia. Safe as we can be in the arena."
Clove found her clothes and started dressing. "Terrible dream. I was getting stung by the trackit jackets, but it was tangled up with the whipping I got in the Academy, my first week. One pain after another and I couldn't fight back. I swelled up like Glimmer did, but I didn't die. I turned into a monster instead, and I was wandering around the Academy—"
"Don't dwell on it," said Cato; her narration was giving him the willies. "We're in the arena now, and we've got four people to get rid of. Then we can go home."
"Right. Boy from 11, girl from 5, both from 12. Have you figured out why they're letting both of us go?"
"Dunno. But I think they've decided, as you did earlier, that there's something important and dangerous about the girl from 12. They're so anxious to get rid of her that they want us to kill her at all costs. They're letting us both survive so we'll concentrate on her, and not worry about fighting each other afterwards."
"Yeah. All right, let's go."
But, as in the previous day, "going" accomplished nothing. The four enemies were nowhere to be found. Cato remembered how Brutus had mentioned the different forms of "strength"; hiding was definitely one of them. What counter-strategy could they use? If they still had more Careers, they might have kept an eye on the largest bodies of water and caught their prey as they came to drink or replenish their water bottles, but there was little Clove and Cato could do as a pair. Set traps near the water supplies? There was Marvel's specialty, and the boy from 3's.
"I thought you were supposed to've hurt Loverboy a lot," Clove said crossly. "So why isn't he dead?"
Cato couldn't vocalize the obvious answer, that the wound was less serious than he intended. "I suppose he's hiding with his partner, and she's using her sponsors' money get medicines."
"You think the Five Girl is with them? And Eleven Boy?"
"Eleven Boy said he'd be a loner, and he's certainly been acting it. I don't remember anything about Five Girl, except that she had red hair. Who'd have thought she would last this long?"
"I suppose Brutus would say that we should've taken any possibility into account."
"If we win, it won't matter what we did wrong on the way."
"If."
They returned to the Cornucopia hideout empty-handed. What was worse, their recaptured food was starting to go bad, and Clove refused to sleep with him this time. It would sap their energy, she said.
They were awakened the next morning by a tremendous stench, "like tonnes of s*** all piled together", as Clove bluntly put it. What was worse, knowing the Gamesmasters, there could be something poisonous mixed in. Clearly the Gamesmasters were kicking their asses, telling them to get out of the Cornucopia and do their jobs.
But the Gamesmasters' attitude worked two ways. They were getting impatient with the lack of action in the arena. So as night fell after another quiet day, there was another announcement.
"ATTENTION, TRIBUTES. YOU ARE INVITED TO A FEAST AT THE CORNUCOPIA AT SUNUP TOMORROW."
That explained their being driven away. The Gamesmasters wanted to set something up without Cato and Clove being unfairly close.
"THIS IS NO ORDINARY FEAST. EACH OF YOU NEEDS SOMETHING DESPERATELY. EACH OF YOU WILL FIND THAT SOMETHING IN A BACKPACK, MARKED WITH YOUR DISTRICT NUMBER, AT THE CORNUCOPIA AT DAWN. FOR SOME OF YOU, THIS WILL BE YOUR LAST CHANCE."
"Bait!" exclaimed Clove. "They're drawing us all into the same area at the same time. Even if we don't need that backpack, we'll find the bitch from 12."
"What if she stays away?"
"Needs something desperately. Maybe it's the medicine she needs to save her Loverby. The Gamesmasters have been watching everything. They KNOW if we need something."
"OK, we'll go when the sun comes up and –"
"Oh, no. I'LL go. We agreed that I'd get the girl."
"Then we agreed that I'd kill her in my own way."
"I've got ways too. They taught me about a lot of tortures in the Academy, to test my Insensitivity Training. Ever heard of the Chinese ling-chi torture?"
"How does it work?"
"Also known as the Death of a Thousand Cuts. You cut pieces off of your victim, big enough to hurt a lot but not serious enough to kill them altogether. Perfect fit for my knife collection. I'm going to do it to her face. Slice off her ears, nose, lips, maybe her eyes, though it may be better to let her see what's coming next. I'm going to give the audience a terrific show. You can watch the rerun when we get back to the Capitol." Clove seemed to be getting very excited at the idea.
"But what do I do?"
Clove snorted. "Keep an eye on where the bitch comes from, then follow the path back to find Loverboy. Finish the job that you should have done several days ago. And you can collect their food stash."
Cato suddenly had an image of Clove as a nagging wife. But he too was pleased by the prospect of Clove torturing their enemy to death, exorcising any notion that the girl was the darling of fate or anything so grand. In the end they'd both get the credit, as Mr. and Mrs. Cato.
When they got to the Cornucopia the next morning, the stench was gone. There was a table in front of the Cornucopia, with four backpacks with large numbers on them.
The first thing that happened was startling: the redheaded Girl from 5 rushed out and grabbed her backpack. Cato was tempted to attack but Clove shook her head. They didn't want to screw up their biggest chance to get the bitch from 12.
There! The girl with the bow appeared. Cato took careful note of where she emerged from the forest, circled around to the point, then proceeded into the woods on her presumed path.
There were no footprints, no smushed-up leaves or twigs. Among other skills, the girl seemed to know how to walk through woods without leaving a trail. Cato had to concentrate on continuing to walk in the same direction. It occurred to him that he had seen a rocky area of the arena in this direction, with a brook running through it. Belatedly he realized that it would make an excellent hiding place, complete with water supply. They should have tried it earlier.
"Cato! Cato!"
Clove's voice, and she sounded terrified. Something had gone wrong. Cato abandoned his search and rushed back toward the clearing, but it was tough running through the woods. At one point he actually thought he saw Twelve Girl approaching, and was tempted to try to kill her. No. If Clove was in danger, rescuing her took priority. If Twelve Girl spotted him, she must have reasoned the same way, and decided to continue to her hideout and tend to Loverboy.
Things were in a mess when he reached the clearing. The gift table was overturned. Clove's knives were scattered around. Clove herself was lying in a heap right in front of the Cornucopia. No sign of an enemy around.
When he knelt down beside Clove, he saw how badly she was hurt. Some of her hair was matted with blood, and there was something wrong with the shape of her head, as if somebody had battered her skull in. Her eyes, still open, were dilated; he had heard somewhere that that was a symptom of concussion or brain damage. She gave no sign that she knew he was there.
"Clove! Clove! Hold on. Stay with me! I'll – " what could he do? "I'll win the Games, and they'll take us back to the Capitol and fix you up. Just hang on. Hang on! I – "
BOOM went the death cannon.
"—love you."
His beloved Clove was dead. Cato looked around desperately for something he could do. He vaguely remembered a legend about a hero who wrestled with Death and made Him release His prey. But real Death was intangible and beyond his reach.
In the distance he saw the huge boy from 11 running away into the field, carrying two bags, and realized that he was the one who had bashed Clove's head in. The girl from 12 didn't have the strength for that. Cato got to his feet, drew his sword, and gave chase. It didn't matter that the kill would bring him one step closer to victory. The stolen bag didn't matter. Even the survival of the bitch from 12 didn't matter. He was going to avenge Clove.
TO BE CONTINUED.