Hmmm...I think I need to spice up the Games a little...
The Arena - Day Three
My stomach is twisted and gnarled, it seems. Every move I make sends a shock of dull pain through my abdomen. It takes little to tire me out, and I haven't relieved myself since yesterday. As we walk west, Quincy and I eat anything that we know won't kill us. Dandelions, blueberries, chives. But it's not enough.
"Stop," I say, leaning against a rock and clutching my torso. "I need to stop."
"Me too," Quincy breathes, sitting on the ground. "We need to eat something."
"Agreed. But what? Even if we catch something, we can't build a fire to cook it. The only other edible things here are wildflowers, and that's obviously not working!" I snap.
"Don't yell at me!" Quincy growls. "This isn't my fault!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not the idiot who went and broke her nose and caused us delay! If we hadn't wasted yesterday we'd probably be on the other side of the lake by now!"
"The only reason I broke my nose was because you were too weak to take down Kur!" I scream.
"If you hadn't been fooling around and picking flowers like some little girl he wouldn't have snuck up on us in the first place!" Quincy retorts.
A cannon interrupts our argument.
"Who do you think that was?" I blurt out.
"It doesn't matter. We'll find out tonight," Quincy replies harshly.
A feeling of hopelessness courses through me. Tears fill my eyes. "What's the point? I hate this stupid game. I want to go home."
"Yes, blubber like a baby! That will help!" Quincy exclaims.
"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" I shout back at him. Rage has replaced my vulnerability again.
"I'm not a jerk, I'm being honest," he says coldly.
"Fine! If I'm so useless, then why don't we just end it here!" I yell, pushing myself off the rock and turning back the way we came.
"Fine! You have fun in this wasteland, and I'll be enjoying a nice swim in the lake!" Quincy calls after me.
I walk for several minutes before I double over in pain. A sorrowful numbness has settled through me. I could do anything now. I don't have any responsiblities. What's the point?
I notice I'm leaning over a bush of the mysterious berries. My stomach goes ballistic, and I pluck a handful from the bush. I stare at the little fruit. It stains my hand red. No, that's blood. The bush had thorns on it.
I tip my head back and empty the fruit into my mouth.
Rolling them between my teeth, I pop the hard peel one by one. An explosion of flavor coats my tongue. Sweet at first, but with a tart aftertaste. They are delicious. I set myself to picking the rest of the berries from the bush and dumping them in my mouth. By the time I've stripped the bush, my arms and hands are covered in little scrapes and cuts, but my stomach is so wonderfully full. See, I don't need Quincy, I think.
Quincy.
Quincy!
QUINCY!
What have I done? Where is my brother? I hop off the ground and look around in vain. What is going on? Why did I split up with him? The out of place feelings of rage and sorrow tease the back of my mind. Of course! It was a trick of the Game. The Gamemakers somehow controlled our emotions. The thought makes me shudder.
I jog up the mountian, suddenly energetic and awake. I feel as if I've just woken up from a long sleep. Nothing hurts, not even my nose. I've sprinted and climbed a good mile before I even break a sweat.
After about an hour of searching, I finally find my brother. He is stumbling up a hill, almost ready to pass out. I jog and catch up to him. "Quincy!"
"What do you want?" he sneers. I recoil, hurt by this unfamiliar venom in his voice. I'd figured that the traps the Gamemakers set wore off over time or were condensed in one location. But I'm untainted, and I'm in the same place as Quincy. My emotions are wholly mine. Why are his so off-kilter? What's different?
The answer comes to me when I see a bush. The berries! They must be the antidote for whatever the Gamemakers did. I locate a berry bush and pick enough to fill my canteen, plus another handful. I don't know how many Quincy will need to become his old self again.
"I'm not eating those," he spits when I come back. "You're probably trying to poison me."
"Quincy, I would never ever do that," I say. "Please, just eat them. You'll feel better."
"I don't believe you."
"Here, I'll eat some!" I say, thoroughly panicked. What if his emotions stay like this? What if the berries aren't the answer? Quincy watches me with the up most suspicion as I take a portion of the berries and dump them in my mouth. He says nothing until I chew and swallow. "See? They're harmless."
He stares at them for a long time. I know I've won. No starving person can resist this. He finally takes the berries and pours them in his mouth. I hand him the canteen and follow him from a distance for a while. The truth is, this angry Quincy scares me.
"Annie!" he says suddenly, wheeling around.
I turn around as a reflex, expecting Kur to be there with an arrow to my head. There is no one. Then I realize that the berries must have taken affect. I sigh in relief. My brother is cured.
He runs to me and envelopes me in a hug. I'm surprised when he lifts me off the ground and spins around. Wasn't he just ready to keel over and die? How is he so strong now?
Of course. The berries. Our salvation.
"I'm so sorry," he says, stroking my hair. "I didn't mean anything that I said, I swear. It must have been - "
"A trap, I know. I'm sorry too," I say, hugging him again.
Then I see it. The tiny silver parachute gently gliding to the ground behind my brother.
"Quincy!" I say, pointing. We run over to our gift and inspect it, confused. It's a little glass vile, with an amber colored liquid inside. I open it and sniff it, quickly revolted. It's musky, kind of like urine. Urine...
"Ew," I say, wrinkling my nose and pulling it away from my face. "I think I know what this is."
"What?" Quincy asks, taking it from my hand and turning it around.
"Animal urine," I explain.
"Why would we need animal urine...?"
"To attract animals," I say. "Rabbits, rats, wild dogs...depending on the animal I guess. We spread it around on the ground and they'll come eventually."
"But what if there's another earthquake? Then we would have wasted it," Quincy points out.
"Well, then I guess there's only one way to make sure that we don't," I say mischievously.
"Annie, you don't mean..." Quincy begins, his face twisting in disgust.
I nod, smiling slowly.
"Ew! No!"
"Come on, Quincy!"
"There is no way I'm covering myself in pee!" he objects.
"Even if your life depended on it?" I ask.
"Why can't you do it?" he complains.
"Okay, how about this: you wear it today, and I'll wear it tomorrow. There's plenty of it in there," I suggest.
"Fine," he consents. Five minutes later he reeks of animal stink. Ten minutes later we have a hefty brown rabbit to cook.
"Well, I guess it's rabbit pee," I say. "Come on, it's almost dusk. Let's get a fire started and..."
The rocks around me become slightly out of focus. "And..."
"Annie?" Quincy asks, concerned. "Annie?"
"And...um...fire started..." The world blurs again, and then becomes black altogether.
When I come conscious, I feel like I was just attacked by a shark.
Everything hurts; my head, my stomach, my legs and arms. Not only that, but I'm exhausted. Like I haven't slept in days. I do notice that it's well into the night, and that there is a warm orange glow flickering among solid cave walls. Quincy must have started a fire...
I roll over. Quincy is unconscious beside me.
I scramble to my feet, steadying myself on the wall when the cave tilts to a dangerous angle. Leaning against the adjacent wall, watching me with something like amusement on his face, is Arthor.
"Have a good sleep?" he asks.
"I...I..." I stutter. I can't think of anything to say. Quincy and I are trapped.
"Here," he says, patting the space next to him. "Why don't you come sit beside me?"
My face burns. This is surely being broad casted. Finnick... "No, I think I'll stay over here."
"Are you sure? I've got lots of food," he says, sliding a rock holding the rabbit and some various herbs. My mouth waters and my stomach growls. I look at Quincy.
"I'll wait for my brother," I decide, crouching in front of him protectively.
"More for me," Arthor shrugs. He takes a rabbit leg and bits into it. I watch grease dribble down his chin.
"That's ours!" I protest.
"I don't see your name on it," he replies with a cocky grin. "If you want it, come get it."
I stay put. "So...how did you...find us?"
"You were both passed out from hunger a couple miles from here. I brought you to my cave and nursed you back to health," he says with a wink.
"Why aren't you with the Careers?" I ask.
"They're a bunch of imbeciles," Arthor rolls his eyes. "The only reason I paired with them was so I could get some loot from the Cornucopia without being slaughtered. Then I snuck away when it was my turn to watch."
I have to admit, that's smart. I've never heard of anyone using that strategy before, but obviously it's worked. Arthor is doing just fine in his little cave. He has a large backpack overflowing with food, a nice fire going, blankets neatly folded in the corner, and weapons jutting from every opening of his jacket. I do notice the big red gash on the side of his face. "You were cut?"
"The earthquake," he explained. "My old cave collapsed and almost took me with it. Your nose?"
"The boy from District Eleven broke it," I say.
"Wow, really? You took on that ox?" Arthor says.
"Yeah, but he got away."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I took care of him," Arthor remarks. I feel a chill go down my spine. It isn't quite what he said, but the way he said it. His tone is...pleasure. I could probably understand triumph, maybe, but actual enjoyment at another human's death? I shudder.
"How long have we been out?" I ask hoarsely.
"Only a couple hours as far as I know," he said. "You probably had a good day left if I hadn't found you."
A few hours...so the cannon that morning...it was Kur's. "Did anybody else...?"
"No, only Kur," Arthor says.
I curse under my breath. That means the audience will be getting antsy, waiting for more action. The Gamemakers will need to answer their cries. Quincy stirs beside me. I brush the hair from his forehead. Suddenly, another chilling question comes to mind. "Arthor?"
"Yes?"
"Why didn't you kill us?"
"You could be of some use to me. No need for you to go to waste," he says matter-of-factly. I stare at him in disbelief. The way he talks about us...it's like we're pawns! Minor obsticles if crossed, maybe. He's not in the least bit concerned about us winning!
He meets my eyes and holds up the other rabbit leg. "You sure you don't want any?"
Quincy groans and opens his eyes. "Annie?"
"I'm here," I say, putting my hand on his.
He looks around the cave and sees Arthor. "What the...where are we?"
I explain as we eat rabbit. Soon I am as full as I've ever been in the arena. I'm beginning to wonder if pairing up with Arthor isn't a bad thing after all. Sure, he's a little slimy but Quincy and I can just sneak away or kill him if things become too strained. If we can just get some weapons from him we'd have the upper hand in a fight.
Arthor offers to take first watch. Quincy and I feel uneasy about this, but we're both still exhausted. Besides, there is only a few hours left in the night. I'm not sure if Arthor is nocturnal like the Careers, but he doesn't seem in the least bit tired. Which is absurd, because he had to drag both me and Quincy half a mile across steep rocks and stay awake while we slept. He should be ready to collapse.
"Are you sure? You did a lot today...maybe one of us should take first watch," I insist.
"Don't worry about it," Arthor says, digging around in his pocket. He pulls out of handful of the mysterious red berries. "I've got these."
"Hey, we ate those! That's how we got out of the emotion tampering trap," I say.
"You ate these? Well, that's probably why you passed out," Arthor says. "These are adrenaline berries. They're the main refined ingredient in morphling. They tap into the part of your brain that produces adrenaline and 'opens the gates', so to speak. The only set back is that you become extremely tired afterward unless you eat more. It makes them highly addictive."
"Huh," I say. "Adrenaline berries? Is that what they're called?"
"I'm not sure if that's the official term, but that's what Zona told me," Arthor remarks before dumping them in his mouth.
"Are you sure you should be eating them if they're so addictive?" Quincy says.
"I'm not worried about it. When I get out of this arena I can buy enough morphling to satisfy my needs for three lifetimes," Arthor laughs, washing down the berries with a water. I look at Quincy.
Something tells me that Arthor doesn't plan on letting us live for long.
This chapter was interesting to write. What do you think about it, hmm?
I feel like my chapters are getting shorter and shorter. Sorry about that. I'll try to make the next one longer.
~Smurf