Title: Awake and Sing
Author: A Crazy Elephant
Summary: Or "Let the 10th Annual Hunger Games Begin!"
Category: Action/Adventure/Drama
Chapter Word Count: 3,071
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games universe and related characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: I'm now a college graduate, ladies and gentlemen. This means a whole lot of things, but most importantly, a semi-regular fanfiction update schedule. I'm aiming for once a week until this piece is finished or until July rolls around (in which case I will be out of the country begging graduate schools to let me in), whichever comes first. As always, I'd like to thank everyone who's read this far, especially those of you who've reviewed, alerted and/or favorited this piece. I love your feedback. ^.^
Chapter Fun Facts: Zeke and Rose introduce the term 'career' as applied to tributes. Also, there were questions as to which of Katniss' Everdeen relations Rose was – I was shooting for great-aunt, with Rose's blacksmith brother as Katniss' grandfather.
Let me know what you think! = )
Warning! This chapter contains some decently graphic violence (at least for me), particularly near the end. If that bothers you, I apologize and encourage you skip over the worst of it.
10 – Trap
There are no cannons overnight, but two sound between sunrise and noon.
The first sounds early. Shortly after sunrise. It must be far off because we hear only the boom of the cannon as we hike back to the canal to fish.
The second comes midmorning, after we've eaten. It's closer. So close, we hear the screams of a boy echo down the winding streets long before the cannon sounds.
"Doil." Zeke hisses. We break from the street, just to be safe and take cover in the rubble. Badge and Zeke stay low. In ruined doorways. Behind rusting metal scraps. Rose and I go high. She scales one of the scraggly trees like she's done it all her life. I scramble for the ruined second floor of a building.
The screams echo for what seems like an eternity. Terrified, agonized, the awful sounds are amplified in the buildings. We have to listen for what feels like hours, though it can't really be more than thirty minutes or so. It's a relief when the canon finally sounds.
Two more faces are in the sky that night. Boy 6 and Boy 9.
"We have to do something about Doil." Zeke declares after the anthem and the presentation of the fallen. "Fast."
The Gamemakers must be thinking the same thing because the storm rolls in overnight.
The rain starts during my watch. Light, little drops plink off the metal of our makeshift roof in a soothing drum. When I wake, it's pouring. Harder than it had been on Lottery Day. Lightening streaks across the darkened sky. Thunder rolls far too close for comfort.
The canal is rising quickly. From the mouth of our little metal shelter, I can see the water. Muddy, deep and fast. It's all ready breached the banks, the water creeping up to the buildings and the tree line where we are hidden.
We cannot stay here.
"Hate the rain." Badge grumbles as we begin packing. He's got quite a stream of choice and colorful curses for the weather too. I have to admit, I'm a little shocked. I've only ever heard that kind of language from the dockworkers at home. Sometimes Danny when Gram is out of earshot.
"Calm down, pal." Zeke slaps Badge's back playfully. "Remember, children are watching this program!"
"Your mother's watching this program!" Rose adds, handing me a half of an apple for breakfast. The water's too high and too fast for safe fishing, so the last of the apples will have to do for the time being.
"My mother's watching this program!" Zeke laughs again. Rose splits an apple for both Badge and Zeke too. Zeke accepts his half and continues his rant. "She's all ready going to be shamed to death I've made an appearance on national television dressed as a sexy tree – I can't have her thinking I'm falling in with ruffians and reprobates." Rose and I laugh.
"Your mother was shamed by the sexy tree suit? My daddy had to watch me stand naked next to the undertaker's son on national television wearing nothing but coal dust, Beach." Rose reminds Zeke.
"All fine and dandy for you then, hanging around with heathens like Badge." Zeke returns indignantly. "You can't fall any farther, you little savage." Badge and I snicker. Rose makes a face "I, on the other hand, am still a loving and model son." Zeke continues, oblivious to the rest of us. "Got to set an example for the community." There is teasing in his voice. We all laugh this time.
"You are a model son and a shinin' example for your community?" Badge snorts. "What kind of community are y'all livin' in up there in 7 anyway?" More laughter and Zeke snorts in mock offense.
"Do you hear this abuse, Maggie?" He asks me. "Criminal." Zeke shakes his head. We're all still chuckling as we zip our jackets and tie down our hoods. I wrap my pack, basket and all in the tarp. Zeke has me tuck the sleeping bag into my basket too. At least something will be dry tonight when we bunk down.
We have to get moving. The water is rising unnaturally fast. Getting caught in that current would surly mean death. I'm a strong swimmer, but if the current knocks me into one of those blocks of cement hiding under the mud and water, it's all over.
"They must want us on foot real bad." Rose observes as we crawl out into the downpour.
"Whadya mean?" Badge grumbles. We set out southwest, away from the canal and the lake.
"They're flushing us out like game." She explains. "Driving us out of hiding. Into the open."
"It's for Doil." I say. The others nod.
"Capitol audiences love them some violence, but he crosses a line." Badge agrees. "They're banking on him getting caught in them floodwaters."
"Or that he'll run into us or those professionals down by the lake and one of us'll finish him." Zeke agrees. We hike in silence for a while as the rain drives down in torrents and the wind kicks up.
"Why don't we?" Badge suggests, suddenly. We're only just out of earshot of the raging floodwater, but the rain is just as noisy on its own. We nearly have to shout to be heard over the roar of the rain and wind.
"Why don't we what, pal?" Zeke asks. It's only just midmorning and we haven't been out of last night's camp long. It doesn't matter. We're all nearly soaked to the bone. The jackets and the boots of the Arena uniforms are waterproof, but the pants aren't in the least. I can even feel the rain running down the backs of my knees.
"They'll cut it out with this here rain – why don't we hunt the son of the bitch down and get it all over with?" Badge proposes. He looks dreadfully unhappy.
"Let me get this straight, Mr. Evers – " Rose clarifies. "You'd like us to go looking for the loony that's been tearing around the city raping and murdering our peers because you can't stand a little rain?"
"Why? You got somethin' else on your schedule, Miss Everdeen?" Badge shrugs.
"Huge risk to life and limb. Small chance of success." Zeke muses. "I love it." He declares with a grin. "I open the floor to possible strategies."
"How's this one for size?" Badge suggests. "We lure him out and Rose sticks him with an arrow from somewhere high up and far away."
"What's going to lure him out?" I ask. The moment the suggestion leaves my mouth I regret it. Zeke has got a look in his eyes and a smile on his face that both say he's got a wonderful, awful idea. I know what comes next.
"Doil likes pretty, breakable things, Maggie." Zeke observes. "You're awful little and real pretty, baby doll."
"Are you crazy or just plain stupid?" Rose aims a punch at Zeke's shoulder. He pouts and rubs at his new Rose-shaped bruise. "You can't ask something like that!"
"The bait and trap is all we've got on the table at the moment, darling." Zeke reminds her. "He's figured out by now that food's scarce – anything like a meal would be suspicious. But a poor, shivering fellow tribute starting a fire to dry out her socks from the rain, well." Zeke grins again. "That is just downright lucky."
"What about those career folks down by the lake?" Rose asks. "If the canals are rising, I'd bet the lake is too. What's to say a signal fire won't draw them too? Y'all know how much they love hacking up fire starters."
"An excellent point, my good man." Zeke says. "But, I'd bet my ax they'll be spending the day trying to rescue their resources from the floodwaters. If they happen to send a scout of two, Badge and I will hold positions on the ground to take care of it while you pick off Doil and Maggie plays bait. Maggie isn't afraid, are you?"
I am afraid.
I'm terrified. I'm shaking again. Like the day my name was drawn and the first day of the Games. But I don't say so.
Instead, I help the others stake out a solid vantage point. We hike south, to the plaza where we'd last heard the screams yesterday morning. We pick out a decent spot in the northeast corner of the plaza. A section of building with enough of a second floor to shelter a fire. A section where I'm covered to the south by the building, to the west by Zeke and his ax, the east by Badge and his spear and to the north by Rose and her arrows. Badge gives me the knife, just in case. I tuck my slingshot into my belt and the awl into a jacket pocket. I still don't feel terribly safe.
"Make sure to scream. Real loud." Zeke instructs. We've collected a fair amount of tinder and have dug a little pit in the shelter of the ruined building. Rose has picked out a tree and Badge has staked out a position in the rubble. "Make it look good. Tears oughta do too. Cry for your mother or something."
"Cry for Thom Argon." Badge snorts a chuckle. "Maybe we'll get us a parachute. Surly he ain't going to ignore the tears of his beloved." Rose and Zeke laugh too and I can feel the blush creeping into my face.
"Aw, now, don't mean no harm." Badge pats my shoulder. "Whistle when we're in position, yeah?" Zeke and Rose nod.
"Then start the fire." I confirm.
"Then we wait." Rose finishes. "I'll whistle twice when he's dead and we'll meet Maggie back here."
"May the odds be ever in our favor!" Zeke trills. He waves cheekily. They retreat to the cover of trees and rubble.
I am left alone with the fire pit.
One whistle. Two. And finally three.
I swallow hard. Try not to tremble too terribly as I pile tinder and the strike the magnesium strip.
The fire doesn't start easily. The tinder we'd collected had been the driest we could find. But in this weather, 'dry' is relative and it takes me several tries to get anything to catch. The flames come eventually, but it's mostly smoke.
I don't like it.
Sure, the extra smoke will draw Doil in, just as we've planned. But the extra smoke will still draw Doil in.
I keep my back to the cement wall and wait. I sit and shiver and try to be brave for the cameras and my own sanity. We are most certainly the top story today. Brave alliance attempts to thwart the twisted madmen. The world will be watching.
The fire, at least, is nice. Comforting warmth that begins to dry out the moisture wicking sport fabric of my Arena uniform pants. A small reprieve from the chill of the driving rain. But the smoke still billows as I add on more tinder and the driest branches we could find. I'm sure it won't be long until someone spots it.
I'm not wrong.
"Hello, little 4." The voice comes from the ruined doorway of my shelter. The smooth, wicked one I remember from the interviews. From training. I nearly jump out of my skin.
He's closer than I'd anticipated. Scarcely three feet from my fire. Much too close and grinning down at me with an icy mirth and something like triumph in his sharp face.
"D-D-D-" The sounds from my throat are nothing but a choked garble as I stumble to my feet. Doil smiles a hungry, slimy sort of smile.
"Oh little 4, I was hoping I'd find you first." He says. "Pentheus really doesn't deserve you." He continues. I'm not entirely sure what he means by this, but at this point I don't care. Doil's closing in and I want to know how long it takes Rose to notch an arrow. He's a lot bigger up close. Not quite as massive as Flynn or the 2s, but he's certainly larger than me. His blonde hair is wet, almost greasy from the rain. His dark eyes are cold and hungry, even though there's a smile on his face. "Now, now, little 4, you won't be needing that." He nods to the knife in my hand. I hadn't even noticed I was clutching it.
"S-S-Stay away." I manage. "Y-Y-You stay away f-f-from me." Doil smiles again. He steps closer and I back into the corner of the ruined structure. I stretch out the knife for good measure but I'm shaking so terribly, there isn't a chance the thing would do me a whole lot of good.
"Stay away?" Doil laughs, cold and harsh. "But little 4, I've just found you! And we'll have to put on a show for your darling mentor – I'm sure he'll enjoy this afternoon's programming – "
Doil dives for the knife in my hand, slamming me back into the wall. Panic nearly over takes me. I try to scream, but only broken little sobs come from my throat. His hands are around my wrists. His face is in my neck. I kick out. Try free my knife hand.
Come on Rose, shoot.
"Good, little 4." Doil breathes into my neck. Still, no arrow comes. "Scream for me – scream!" He slams my wrist back against the wall. The sudden sharp contact with the cement forces my fingers open. The knife hits the ground and panic wells up. "Come now, 4, what did we talk about, little one? Scream!"
I scream. It's really more of a choked sob. But it's enough for Doil. He even seems to relish in the sound.
"Good, little 4." He says again. His entire weight is on me now. He may not even be as big as Badge, but he's still bigger than me. There's something single-minded about him too, as though his whole being is focused solely on hurting me without a care to his own self.
It's positively terrifying.
I try to kick out. To fight. But an overwhelming terror, more pervasive than the one that had swept over me at the start disks has begun to overtake me. I struggle, but all I can think of is how Doil is still very much alive and there has been neither hide nor hair of my allies. Doil is certainly within range of Rose's arrows. Even throwing range of either of the boys' chosen weapons and there has most assuredly been time to take advantage of that. Surly they wouldn't let Doil do this to me. Let him kill me so horribly. They may need me as dead as I need them to win this thing, but they aren't monsters. They'd kill me themselves before they'd let Doil have his way, I'm sure.
Then, over the fear, it occurs to me.
Something must have gone wrong.
I can't even begin to imagine what precisely. I don't want to. Regardless, it means I'm on my own.
With Doil.
Doil pins my wrists together and forces back the hood of my jacket. He's having a grand afternoon, I can tell.
"Scream, 4." He demands again into my hair. I can't. I choke again and wriggle in his grasp. "Scream!" He orders harshly, forcing me to meet his eyes.
I'm still choking out garbled sounds, but my knee finally connects with his groin. He howls in pain and releases me to clutch at his wounded pride. I'm so shocked to have actually hurt someone, even someone as cruel as Doil that my knees give out and I sink down.
My shock doesn't last long. Adrenalin and some basic self preservation instinct kick in and replace it with an order to run.
Run now.
A hand catches my ankle before I can get too far. The fall to the ground knocks the wind from me, just like the first day at the Cornucopia. Except when I look back, it isn't Boy 5 hanging onto my ankle, but Doil. And he's certainly not after a supply pack.
He is positively livid. His face has contorted with rage into something vicious and terrifying. I kick out again, but Doil is faster. He jerks me back, beneath him. He climbs up over me, using his weight to keep me pinned. He's gotten a hold on my fallen knife too.
"That wasn't very nice, 4." He snarls. "And here we were going to have some fun – " The look in his eyes is almost inhuman. Cold and full of rage as he traces my face with the edge of the blade. It leaves a trail of pain and the warm bubble of blood in its wake. My hands push at his chest, his shoulders and his face. As if I can simply push him away. Failing that, my fingers scramble for purchase in the rubble beside me. Hoping to find something useful. A rock. A branch. Anything to use as a weapon.
But there is nothing.
This is it.
Not that first day on the start disks or that day by the canal with Zeke and Rose and Badge, but here. I hope Danny hasn't let the twins see this. Or Grandfather. Gram might be able to stomach this particularly grisly end of mine, but it will destroy Grandfather. I hope that Fillipa covers her ears. That Saoirse and Thom, even Minerva Holmes won't blame themselves for failing to bring home a tribute. That someone good wins. Rose or Badge or Zeke, even Flynn. Just not Doil.
I'm crying now. From pain. From fear. This is the end.
Doil has my jacket open when my fingers find the awl in my pocket. He's so focused tugging at my clothes and carving shallow patterns across my breastbone with the knife that he doesn't seem to care what my hands are.
Somewhere between a flash of hope at getting a hold on the awl and the agony of the swirling cuts across my skin, I stop thinking properly.
I just do.
I slam the awl into Doil's neck. Blood gushes out over my hand. A sickening gurgle comes from his mouth. There is something like surprise on his face as I keep the tool lodged firmly in his throat.
He chokes. Drops the knife.
Somewhere, a cannon sounds.