The next day I simply focus on gathering supplies; I sat awake for much of the night, frightened that the District Ten girl would haunt me in my dreams, but I feel worse when she doesn't. I wonder if that makes me a bad person…but I don't wonder too much, I've had sponsors so far and I can't lose them now by breaking down over the death of an opponent.
I catch four little fish, wrap them in green leaves and bake on the smouldering coals of my dawn fire; I think of the first couple of days, when I was too scared to even attempt a fire, and I wonder if killing the girl has brought about a change within me. Certainly I don't want to run into Ebb and his friends, but I don't feel the terror I did before, perhaps I would even try to fight if it were one-on-one.
The fish is delicious, but it would do better on a bed of pearly grain. I sit, picking my teeth with a fish bone and looking out onto the river. Ominous, black clouds are drawing in from the mountains; I wonder if any tributes have made it that far? Probably not, the Game makers wouldn't like anyone being so far away from the action; no doubt they would've been chased back to the river with the rest of us.
An hour or so later the clouds are directly overhead and the rain begins; it's refreshing at first, but then it becomes irritating and cold. I wish I could shelter in the crevices of the mountain but my skin crawls at the thought of the spiders, so I tell myself to toughen up and sit it out. First I find some sticks that are still dry, there's not much but it's enough to act as kindling for a fire later, and store it in my backpack. Next, I thread three stiff, green leaves through my hair as a kind of hat and then draw my hands up into my jacket, keeping a firm grip on my knife.
The rain drags on throughout the day and I wonder if the river will burst its banks; it'd be good news for me and Ebb, I doubt many other tributes can swim, but I don't want to be caught sleeping in a flash flood. I sit, hunched; watching the choppy water lap at the bank, but the water level never seems to rise, even after hours and hours of rain.
At dusk the rain becomes a gentle mist and I use my dry sticks and matches to light a fire. I remove my jacket and shirt, spreading them out nearby to dry. I have two fish left and I decide to go ahead and eat them; I didn't want to risk losing my fragile fishing lines in the rain but I'll cast them again in the morning as long as the weather stays dry. A couple of hours later, my clothes are a little damp and covered in a layer of sand, but I put them back on anyway and shuffle around when they irritate my skin.
The Capitol seal appears in the sky but there have been no deaths today, I rest my head back against the huge boulder and watch something move in the distant darkness to my right. I don't find out what it is because I nod off to sleep without any effort at all.
I awake with such a start that I make a snorting noise. Panting, I look in each direction for an attacker and then sink back down again when I realise I am alone. The sun is fully up and I must have slept for hours, but it feels as if I only closed my eyes a moment ago.
The day feels warm but there is dampness in the air from the rain; tiny flies buzz around in frantic clouds and I smack them away from my arms and face as they bite me. I see to my fishing lines and cast them in the river before filling my water bottles and cupping water in my hands to splash my face.
It takes me a few moments to spot the first dead fish but then I see them…all of them…floating towards the top of the water. There must be more than forty tiny translucent corpses drifting across the river in front of me and I can see the light glinting off a hundred more downriver.
How could something have killed so many fish so quickly? Something toxic maybe? Possibly, if someone had poisoned the river but surely no tribute would be that stupid; even if someone was sent poison by a sponsor they'd have to be confident of another water supply to do this. I let the water drain away through my fingers; I can't risk drinking it now after all. Suddenly I'm furious, I just want a moment's respite from the Games, just a day to rehydrate, sleep and eat. I pound my fist into the ground and kick at the floating fish before dropping onto the wet sand with a thud.
It takes all of my willpower to stand up and decide to carry on. I carefully pack my fishing lines away in my pack, store one knife on the utility belt and keep the other in my hand; I won't be the only tribute looking for water today.
I'm not sure which direction to choose so I travel along the river bank for a while, acutely aware of the heat and hoping I don't stray into a trap. Around noon I spot a hairy mass on the sand, it's a larger version of the spiders from the mountain and it lies, pathetically, with its legs in the air and the river water lapping around it. I can't believe how big it is, the body must be at least six feet in diameter and each long leg is thick and covered in course black hair. I can't resist poking one of the legs with my knife and I jump backwards as they contract reflexively.
Shuddering, I decide to clear out and move on but then I hear something coming my way. A tribute stumbles towards me; I think it's the boy from District Three, there is a large gash across his forehead, he's holding his side and blood drips between his fingers. Behind him the District Two girl walks slowly, knowing he is too injured to run from her for long, she passes a short sword from hand to hand and twists her hips as if she is stretching a sore muscle.
My heart beats quickly and I wonder what kind of head start I might get if I run now, but I can't see any direction that would give me the cover I need to hide. All of a sudden an idea occurs and I clamber inside the legs of the dead spider. The limbs twitch and try to close but I manage to squeeze between them and wedge myself around the gaping mouth of tiny teeth, hoping the District Two girl doesn't come to investigate the creature's corpse.
I hear the District Three boy's death and, from the grunting of the girl, I can tell he fought hard until the end, but the cannon sounds and I know I am one tribute closer to home.
The girl stops to take a bottle of water from her own backpack and I wonder if the strong tributes poisoned the river, they must have plenty of water at their camp and it would certainly ensure that the rest of us remained weakened. She stretches out and swings her arm around, grimacing a little at some discomfort and then she saunters in my direction but I can't tell if she's seen me or if she interested in the spider. My palms sweat and I wipe them off on my trousers so I can get a good grip on both knives. The girl comes so close that I'd swear she can hear my heart thud in my chest, she looks at the spider with interest and I ready myself for the fight, but then she just walks past me. I turn, as quietly as I can, to see what has caught her interest and I spot her staring at the dead fish; she spears one with her sword and peers at it with a confused expression.
Feeling only terror, I slip out of from spider's legs and run towards the girl; she groans as she turns, and the speared fish flies off in an arc when she strikes at me with her sword. I pray that I'm right about her hips or stomach being weak and barrel straight into her; she yells and catches my shoulder with the flat of her sword but I manage to push her down and sit on her stomach, pinning her arms to the ground. She spits at me and swears, bringing up her knees to bruise my groin and dislodge me, I lose my advantage and she kneels on my stomach whilst reaching for her dropped sword. My torso screams in pain from her bony joints but I refuse to be ended this way and I manage to punch her in the side of the head, preventing her from getting to her weapon. When she head-butts me everything else seems to happen in slow motion; the pain is almost unbearable and I convulse forwards in an adrenaline fuelled rage, biting down on her arm until I feel warm blood fill my mouth. The girl screams and jumps off me; I know she has gone for her sword but I'm so dizzy I can't think straight, pure blind luck helps me find my knife and I stab it in her direction, randomly, until it finally connects with her neck. The girl has an iron will and manages a few steps forwards but, when the knife falls out the wound, the blood spills like a waterfall. Her face goes white and the sudden blood loss makes her stumble to her knees so that we are practically face-to-face on the ground, clawing pathetically at each other for a couple of minutes, until I reach the knife and draw it across her throat in an angry smile. The girl falls forwards and I can hear choking, but soon enough she is gone and I roll onto my back, holding my head to try to stem the white hot pain within.
I know I need to move so they can collect the body but I fall as soon as I try to stand; I've never experienced such a strong blow to the head and now I can't seem to balance. I retain just enough sense to hook my arm through the District Two girl's backpack and grab her sword, and then I shuffle forwards on my forearms and knees until I reach a couple of huge boulders. The parachute arrives almost immediately but my hands are trembling too much to open my gift; I have to put the little tin down and take some deep breaths before trying again. I seem to have been sent pills, there are around twenty of them and, at first, I wonder what exactly they're for; more than anything I need something to purify the water of poison, but these have a little green cross on them and that indicates medicine. We don't use much Capitol medicine in District Four, there's a woman who sells homemade salves for burns or infection, but the richer residents can afford to visit the office in the town square that has a large, green cross painted on the window, and see a real doctor for real medicine.
In the girl's backpack I find the bottle of water I'd seen her use before she died; I take two pills and drink from it deeply, it's my first real drink of the day and it eases the discomfort of my sore mouth and throat. The pills are amazing; within a couple of hours my searing head and stomach pains have become an uncomfortable, dull ache. I've transferred some of the girl's belongings (another large bottle of water and a packet of crackers) into my own backpack, but I'm intrigued over the tin she had; there's no label but it has a ring on top which I pull back with my finger. As soon as the ring-pull exposes the contents to the air there is an audible 'pop' and the tin begins to heat up in my hands; with disbelief I hold the tin to my nose and inhale the smell of warm beef stew.
I don't even bother using my hands and just tip it backwards into my open mouth and gulp down the delicious meal; I use my fingers to get the last of the gravy out of the can and then throw it out onto the sand.
Later that evening, the pictures of the girl from District Two and the boy from District Three appear in the sky and I wonder how my family feel about my fight today. I can't say I was provoked or that I did it because she stole my supplies, I just did it to get home.
A booming voice interrupts my thoughts "Tributes of the Second Hunger Games!"
I look up into the sky, as if there might be a talking face projected onto the inky darkness, but I can't see anything.
The voice continues "You may have noticed that the river is now…well let's just say I wouldn't use it in my afternoon cocktail! The Capitol has decided to provide you with a feast tomorrow at noon, there will be plenty to eat and drink, you just need to get yourselves to the cornucopia statue where you began ten days ago. Noon tomorrow, don't be late!"
The voice disappears and I sit still, now convinced that the Capitol found a way to poison the river, and that it was done to give use an incentive to go to the feast. I wonder if I should hike through the night and find a hiding space, but I doubt I could even get half way without collapsing; instead I decide to rest my head against the boulder and try to get some sleep. Perhaps the other tributes will get there tonight and kill each other so that I can just wake up and go home.