The blaring anthem jolts me awake, and I bump my head on the edge of the alcove that holds my backpack. How long have I been asleep? Gaius killed Fia right after they showed the deaths for that day. I had been on the move for hours after that. I'm not sure how much time has passed, but I feel somewhat better. I sip some water and watch the broadcast. I almost spit out what I am drinking when I see Chrome's face projected into the darkness. Chrome? He was a very strong tribute. I thought that the only people who had any real shot at taking him in hand-to-hand combat were Gaius and myself. I'm not certain, but I don't think Gaius would have come back with the two of them still at the Cornucopia. Unless he met with some random accident in the cavern, the most likely answer is that Callida killed him, which means that I had underestimated her. The fact that he is dead doesn't make me sad, exactly, though I am feeling something heavy in my chest. I didn't know him well, but I knew him. There is something very personal about the death of someone you know that I didn't expect to feel for Chrome.
Fia's portrait is no surprise to me, but I wonder what the other tributes are thinking about that. Two of the strongest tributes are dead on the same day, so early in the Games. I don't know if that would give me hope or worry me, if I was one of them. The girl from District 10 is next. I hadn't heard a third cannon shot, so now I don't know whether Callida killed Chrome as I was running from them, or later, while I was asleep. I guess it doesn't matter. Those three are the only deaths for today. Since they just broadcasted the count, it must be the end of the second day of the Games. My odds keep getting better and better, in absolute terms.
I think I'll stay here on top of this flowstone a while longer. This would be a great point for an ambush. There's enough light here so I can see what's coming from all around, and it's not so high up. I could jump down on someone without getting hurt in the fall. There doesn't seem to be any good reason to just run around the cave, not knowing whether another tribute is nearby until you practically run into him. The little bit of food I have will probably last longer too, if I stay put.
I am rolling up my sleeping bag and considering eating some crackers, when I notice that the dripping from the rock above my head seems to be coming a lot faster. As I watch, it changes from a steady drip into a thin stream. A sliver of stone bounces off my head, and another one falls into the pool. I have no idea what's happening but I some instinct screams for me to grab my backpack and jump off the stone. A second later, I hear a deep, sickening rumble from far inside the earth. A heaving wave swells beneath my feet, throwing me to the floor. I scramble up and run for my life. Rock dust is spewing from opening fissures, spreading into heavy clouds that make me cough. I hold the corner of my jacket over my mouth and nose in hopes of filtering out some of it. The dust is so thick that I can't see at all. Maybe Callida or Gaius, being quarriers from District 2, or the miners from District 12 would have known what to do in a cave-in. I have no idea, so I just move, stumbling a few times as I blindly follow the cave wall to where I hope is "away." Another swell throws me down again, and this time I am falling. I hit bottom on my side hard enough to startle me into taking a large lungful of dust. I fling my arms over my head and curl up as much as I can, but I am pelted with small falling rocks that bruise me with every impact. I am going to die here, buried under this stupid mountain, without so much as a weapon in my hand.
Suddenly, it is very quiet. The rock beneath me is isn't moving, even though there is still a lot of dust hanging in the air. My mouth is full of gritty paste…mixed rock dust and spit, I guess. When I try to uncurl myself from my fetal position, I feel a sharp pain in my side, but I freeze when I hear a cannon shot. A moment later, I hear another. Two tributes died in this cave-in. I can't help but hope that they were Gaius and Callida.
The haze is becoming somewhat thinner as the dust settles, and I can see an open area of very dim light above me. So I've fallen into a crevasse or a hole. I wonder how deep it is. I roll over, getting ready to stand, but pain lances through the left side of my chest wall, making me gasp, which hurts even worse. I bite my lip, trying to take shallower breaths, trying to not to scream in case anyone is within earshot. I might have some broken ribs, and who knows what else might be bruised or punctured under them. I gingerly ease myself into sitting upright, but it is not easy, and I feel a little sick and dizzy when I'm done. As I am able to see more, I realize that I am in a pit some twenty-five or thirty feet deep, and much wider at the top than at the bottom. It's a wonder that I wasn't hurt more than I am. I see many solid-enough looking ledges of broken stone above me, but I don't see any that I can reach.
There are plenty of loose rocks at the bottom of the hole with me that had been shaken loose in the quake. I think I could pile them up and make something like a stairway or a ramp. I manage to stand by grabbing the rough wall and hauling myself up, leaning against it with my right shoulder. The cave seems to be spinning, and my stomach lurches with nausea. Standing is about ambitious as I can get right now. Even if I could somehow move the rocks, climbing them is out of the question.
I want to cry in frustration, but if anyone else is nearby, they would hear me. What I don't need right now is for someone to find me here, where they could kill me easily. Even just dropping rocks on me would work, given enough time. Of course, enough time will kill me just as well. There's not even any water down here. Once I drink what little bit I have in my container, I have no way to get more.
Sitting down is easier than standing up was. All I have to do is let myself slide down the wall, and try not to yelp when I land. At least my pack is down here with me. I rummage through it using just my right arm, keeping my left sealed around my ribs. The sleeping bag comes out little by little. There's a stiffened paper packet that is marked as "pain medicine," and I find six pills inside. I don't know how many to take, and I'm not even sure I should eat or drink anything. If I have internal injuries, taking medicine or food could just make things worse. Of course, I suppose that "worse" is a relative term. I take one of the pills and wash it down with a mouthful of my precious water. I decide that I might as well eat something too. All I've had in the last two days is half of a beef stick, and I need some calories if I am going to have any chance of recovery. So I choke down some leathery dried fruit and the other half of the beef stick. At least it doesn't hurt to swallow, and nothing bad happens over the next few minutes.
Looking for a miracle, I sift through some other things that I forgot I had stuffed into the pack as we looted the Cornucopia, but it's all junk to me. For just a moment, I am envious of the tributes from the poorer districts who could probably cobble something useful from these odds and ends. My spear is buried under tons of rock back at the flowstone, but I doubt I could use it as anything other than a strong stick to lean on, at the moment.
I work the sleeping bag behind my back to protect me from the cold stone, and lap the ends together across my chest. There's nothing I can do now, except wait, and hopefully think of some way to get out of this pit.