Title: Awake and Sing
Author: A Crazy Elephant
Summary: Or "Let the 10th Annual Hunger Games Begin!"
Category: Action/Adventure/Drama
Chapter Word Count: 2,543
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games universe and related characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: I've gotten some very positive responses to the last chapter and I'd like to thank everyone for their support thus far – I'm so glad to hear your thoughts and support. I'd also like apologize for this chapter – it's kind of a dull one, particularly after the last one. Sorry everyone. It'll pick back up again, I promise.
Chapter Fun Facts: "What's the story, morning glory?" is a line from the song "Telephone Hour" in the musical Bye, Bye, Birdie.
11 – Lull
I wake back in the little metal cubby where I spent the first night in the Arena.
It's disorienting. Surly the last three days with Zeke, Badge and Rose, with Doil and the storms couldn't have been merely a horrible nightmare.
Should I be so lucky.
I'm not.
My shirt and my jacket are missing and my chest is sloppily bandaged. I'm tucked into Zeke's sleeping bag with a bunched up green jacket for a pillow. Beside me, sits the woven grass sleeping mat I'd made on Day Two. Beyond that, three packs – mine, Zeke's and a yellow bag I don't recognize are – stacked in one corner of the cubby. It's mid-morning and outside the cubby's opening, the rain still falls. It's slowed a bit to a persistent drizzle, but the drop still plink off the metal roof in a steady drum.
I have absolutely no idea how I got from the plaza to this place.
"Look at you, all awake!" Zeke pops his head above the top of the rubble pile and grins at me. He's looking soaked and particularly thin. His long hair is still tied back, but the few wisps around his face are plastered to his forehead and thinning cheeks. "What's the story, morning glory?" He asks, climbing in and settling on the grass mat.
"Z-Z-Zeke." I manage. My voice wavers. It sounds small, unused.
"Alive and kicking, baby doll." He says, grinning. "Brought you something." Zeke holds up a canteen before plunking it down beside my head. "Been boiling the rain water – never know if the Gamemakers would send acid rain, just to shake things up." I nod, bonestly, as the reality of the situation settles on me (killed someone, I Maggie Benoit, have killed someone), I don't particularly care what Zeke or the Gamemakers might be up to. Instead, I try to steady out my voice for some answers.
"H-How-? W-What-?" I can't seem to pick a question. It doesn't matter and Zeke seems to know what I'm after.
"You been out for three days, Maggie girl." He says. Zeke lays on his side and has propped himself up on one elbow to look me in the face. "Blood loss got you."
"W-W-What happened?" I finally manage. "At the plaza?" Zeke's face falls.
"What do you remember?" He asks.
"D-D-Doil." I say, trying to ignore the shaking dread at the memory and the overwhelming guilt of what I have done. "I k-k-killed him before he killed m-me." Zeke smiles faintly.
"Yes you did, baby doll." Zeke prompts. "What else?" I think back to where my memories get fuzzy.
"C-C-Cannons, there were cannons." I say.
"Anything else?"
"I-I-I was bleeding." I continue. "But there was so much of it I couldn't tell what was mine."
"That it?" Zeke presses.
"Yes." I say. "Everything started to blur after that."
"Yeah, well, you had yourself a glorious war wound that had you bleeding like a stuck pig." Zeke confirms. "Surprised you remember that much, baby doll."
Then he tells me what I missed.
He, Rose and Badge had taken their positions, just as we'd planned. They'd seen the smoke from my fire, but they hadn't seen Phaedra and Pentheus on the hunt. Phaedra had caught Rose with an arrow before Badge and Zeke could stop her. Rose had fallen from the tree, still alive, but in no position to shoot Doil as we'd planned, leaving me to fend for myself. Badge had an impressive bought with Phaedra when he and Zeke had gotten close. Zeke had gotten into quite a sparring match with Pentheus. Phaedra had eventually killed Badge in close quarters with her sword, but Rose had used the last of her strength to stick an arrow in Phaedra's throat. Zeke had gotten a good stomach wound in on Pentheus when Doil's cannon, followed by Badge's, Phaedra's and Rose's, had gone off. Pentheus had turned tail at his injury and the death of his ally. Zeke had taken off to find me, half conscious, still crying and covered in blood. Apparently, I'd passed out entirely in the rush to get as far away from the plaza as we could. Zeke had found this place and bandaged me up with help from Rose's first aid kit.
"Oh," Zeke says. He reaches behind him to dig in the packs. He tugs out a small metal cube with a parachute attached before turning back to face me. A sponsor gift. "And this too." He holds it up for my inspection. "Some quick mend, antibacterial wonder cream from the Capitol. Came for you after we got here."
"How can you tell it's mine?" I ask as he cracks it open. Zeke holds up a little laminated note printed in precise mechanical letters.
Sponsors want to see Victor-Babies.
"Now, I know I'm real good-looking." Zeke says, handing me the card. "But somehow, I don't think I'm Cobb's type."
I smile sadly and study the note. This is an incredible gift – medicine beyond basic first aide is costly, particularly after Day Three. I can only imagine what this cost Thom. Even through the aching guilt over Doil's death, I can't help the flash of gratitude. To Thom, to Zeke.
"Thank you, Zeke." I say and I'm proud my voice does shake.
"Yeah, well, somebody good's got to win this thing." He says, taking the canteen from beside me. He takes a long drink and sighs. "Ain't too many good souls left." He says sadly. I don't have to ask what he means.
"Oh, Zeke –" My voice cracks and I can't stop it. The tears are back in my eyes and my throat tightens. Zeke doesn't have to ask what's brought on my tears either.
"They were good eggs." He says. "Badge and Rose – deserved a lot better than what they got." I choke out a sob, which makes the cuts on my chest burn. Zeke takes my hand and squeezes it. "I let them down." I wipe at the tears with my free hand and he continues. "I should have seen it coming."
"Y-Y-You couldn't have." I garble out through the tears. I squeeze Zeke's hand too, but I'm not sure how comforting it is.
"Don't make me any less guilty, baby doll." He sighs, but pulls himself together. "Suppose that means one of us will just have to win for them." Zeke brightens.
"O-O-One of us." I echo. It's going to be Zeke, I'm sure of it. I only got out of my scrape with Doil by the sheer good fortune of having the awl in my pocket and an adrenaline fueled self-preservation instinct. Zeke fought Pentheus and came out alive by his own merits. That certainly isn't nothing. I remember what Pentheus did in training. He's a force to be reckoned with. To match him in fighting skill is nothing short of impressive.
"Now, how you feeling?" Zeke asks me cheerily. He's trying to change the subject. "Better? Less like dying?"
"Tired." I admit. "My chest burns too." I say.
"Think you'll be able to move tomorrow?" He asks.
"I don't know." I shrug, but instantly regret it as my cuts burn against the gauze of my bandage.
"We'll let you rest today and test your feet tonight." Zeke declares. "I don't want to stick around too much longer – the Gamemakers gave us a day to lick our wounds and two to starve out some of the loners out there into doing something stupid like looting from the Careers." He explains. "Girl 8 and Girl 11 tried it yesterday afternoon – lit some fires to draw Flynn and Lace out. Thought they could take an injured Pentheus themselves and got their pictures in the sky for their troubles."
"You saw?" I ask and Zeke nods.
"Been spying from the ruins." He explains. "With Doil gone, they're the biggest threat." Zeke continues. "And the Gamemakers won't give us much more time to lie low like this." I nod and mull it all over a moment. I run the list of Tribute in my head.
"Seven." I observe.
"What?"
"We're down to the final seven." I elaborate and Zeke nods.
"Yeah – food's getting tougher to come by." He explains.
"It was never easy." I remind him.
"Yeah, but the canals are still high and the lake's churning. Doubt even you could fish something out of them. Rain drove the fowl to ground and the rodents to nest, so hunting's out too." He explains. "I've been rationing out the crackers and dried meat out of Doil's pack, but it's a good thing you've been out and not terribly interested in eating, because we'd be starving by now." He observes.
"Zeke?" My voice is small again, but at least the stammer seems to be under control. "Shouldn't we . . . split up?" I ask. "We said final eight – Zeke – I – " A fresh wave of guilt washes over me at the thought of what I've done mixed with a streak of horror at the thought of what I will have to do. "I-I-I don't want kill you Zeke." His laugh is wry and empty.
"Baby doll, I don't want to kill you either." He admits. "But I don't want Pentheus taking his sweet time carving you up either. My mother would never forgive me for leaving you to that nut." I nod.
We don't speak much the rest of the afternoon. The grief and rising stakes of the Game must be getting to Zeke because he always has something to say. Instead, he stays quiet and lets me nap, absently sharpening his axes while I doze.
Around late afternoon, Zeke wakes me. He helps me out of the sleeping bag.
"Going to need you moving again, baby doll." He tells me again as I teeter unsteadily down the gravel slope. I have to lean heavily on his arms and our pace is agonizingly slow. "How's this treating you?"
Treating me? The cuts on my chest burn against the bandages. My head spins. My knees wobble. I'm perfectly miserable. But I don't tell Zeke so.
"It's all right, I suppose." I lie. Zeke laughs.
"That why you're looking a might green, Maggie-girl?" He asks me with a grin that is much more like the Zeke I am accustomed to.
"I'll be all right." I say again. Zeke chuckles again and shakes his head.
"I reckon you will." He agrees. "But it's going to be another day or so." Zeke announces. "Can't move fast enough right yet. Let's change those bandages – get some more of that miracle cream on your cuts."
Changing the bandages is a lot easier said that done. Twilight has begun to fall, so the light isn't great. Zeke has to carefully cut away the old ones using Badge's hunting knife. That knife is meant for gutting fish and game. Not the little precision cuts for first aid. It's just lucky that the Capitol medicine has turned the elaborate swirling patterns Doil had carved across my breastbone into puckered, pink scar tissue. The new skin is delicate and burns when a layer of cream and fresh gauze touch it. I grimace, but don't say anything.
"Look at you, baby doll." Zeke grins as he loops the bandage around my shoulder to keep it in place. "Tough as nails."
"Not terribly." I protest.
"Taking it like a champ." He insists and Zeke smiles again. "Bet your folks are real proud."
"I haven't got folks." I admit. "Just brothers and my grandparents."
"Still bet they're proud of you." He encourages as.
"I doubt it. I'm certainly not." I say. The guilt rises in my stomach again. "Z-Z-Zeke – I killed someone." I'm surprised at the sob that comes out. Zeke pats my shoulder comfortingly.
"So did I baby doll." He admits. "I can't imagine we'll ever feel good about it and it sure don't make us any less guilty."
"Zeke – " I choke again, from the guilt and the sting of my cuts.
"I know." He sighs. "You know, I thought it'd be easier." He admits, clumsily tying off the end of my new bandage. "I mean, it's the Games – we all know the stakes. Kill or be killed and all that." Zeke shakes his head. "Still don't stop a bit of your soul from breaking away when you do it." The tears are coming again. I snuffle and nod. The pain in Zeke's face fades as he screws back on his cheery mask.
"Chin up, baby doll." Zeke says. "How about you give those crackers a test? See if you can keep 'em down? You've not had anything but water in days." He encourages, pulling the yellow pack to us. He produces a pair of crackers for me, a strip of jerky for himself and hands me one of the canteens. Rations must be getting particularly skinny if this is the extent of our dinner.
A cannon fires as he hands me my crackers. I jump and nearly drop them at the sound. A fresh memory of the plaza, of Doil nearly overtakes me. It must show on my face because Zeke pats my shoulder encouragingly.
"Easy, baby doll." Zeke says.
We fall silent after that, munching our meager meal and listening to the drumming of the rain on our shelter and leaves of the trees. The anthem is audible over the sound and we peer out to see the fallen tribute.
It's Rose's district partner, Sam. His picture is blurred by the clouds and the raindrops, but he is still recognizable.
"Poor guy." Zeke shakes his head. "Got spooked at the Cornucopia and left us, but he was a good fella. In Training." He explains. I nod as Sam's face vanishes from the sky and we are left in the dark.
"Zeke?" I ask finally.
"Yes?" He asks with a long pull from his canteen.
"When you win – " I swallow a sob. "Will you tell my grandmother I'm sorry?" I ask.
"Don't rule yourself out yet – " Zeke begins, but I cut him off.
"Before I left." I explain, a little bit proud how strong my voice is. "She told me not to change. To stay me." I have to swallow another sob. This one burns and I have to take a drink from my own canteen. "I don't think I'm the same person I was when Minerva Holmes pulled my name out of that bowl." I admit and I'm not. The Lottery seems like a thousand years ago. Another lifetime from today, where I sit, in a little metal hole in the ruins of an ancient city, washed in guilt and fear with an ax-wielding charmer. "P-P-Please Zeke?"
Zeke looks ready to reprimand me for my defeatist attitude, but he seems to think better of it. He sighs and smiles fondly at me.
"I promise." He agrees. "But only if you'll tell my mother that I really tired to come home and that she can't give up." Zeke insists. "I'm all she's got, you know, but even if I die, she can't give up. You have to tell her. Deal?" He holds out a hand to me. I shake it.
"Deal."