Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Geth342: Well, this is the ultimate in half-asleep writing i'm afraid: the majority of it was written when i came home from Barnum performances. Any random trains of writing are due to that. Anyhow, apart from that, i hope you like it. Thanks a lot for all the reviews and favourites as well. They rock my day. Next update will be between 31st July - 3rd August. I hope you enjoy.

06/04/2012 - Britishism corrected.

Chapter 11: Learn to Track

We are silent on the walk back. I don't know what the boys are thinking but my thoughts are alternating between Skira dying and fighting Kayn. Unbidden, the memory of my promise to his brother comes into my head. I promised to fight Kayn fairly. Did I keep that promise? I don't know.

When we get back into the Cornucopia, Hulde stares at us. At first, the three of us act like nothing has happened – as though it's perfectly normal to lose two people along the way. However, Hulde doesn't seem to like this approach and asks us whether the two cannon shots were for Skira and Kayn. This causes us to look at each other guiltily.

"Well, no," I say after a few seconds of silence. "One was for Skira but the other was for the girl from District Ten."

She nods coldly. "OK. So where's Kayn?" Rashnid and Jak look at me. "What did you do, District One?"

"Me?" I splutter. "What makes you think it was…" I give up. "I had an argument with him."

Rashnid bursts out laughing. "That's a bit of an understatement, man." He turns to Hulde. "She started fighting him. He ran away."

"Why?"

Jak decides to take over. "The boy from 9 killed the other girl and before we could attack him, Skira tripped and alerted him. Kayn got annoyed at her and killed her. Jewel got into an argument with him about it, lost her temper and started to fight him. We also made it clear that we weren't impressed with his actions." He smiles easily. "It could have happened to anyone."

Hulde rolls her eyes but merely says, "That's the last time you leave me here."

We all breathe a sigh of relief. Hulde's temper is unpredictable. Though I can't say it's worse than mine now. That's not a comfortable thought. Still, it's good that she's decided not to explode. I guess it makes her life easier to have less of us here.

We don't leave the Cornucopia for the rest of the day. We probably should go hunting but I think the others want to give me some space – I feel emotionally shattered. All I can think about is everyone at home watching me trying to kill Kayn on TV. And then Skira's family knowing that their daughter has gone. I suppose it must be the same for all the other people who have died but, to me, it's different. Because I knew her.

Liss was right. This is a lot harder to do when I know people. I keep trying to follow her advice and think that Skira is one less tribute. But it's hard. Maybe too hard.

When I come back to reality, it's nearly dark. I'm impressed that I've managed to spend so long sitting silently but I suppose I just had a lot on my mind. The other three don't say a word when I rejoin them though Jak grips my shoulder and Rashnid smirks at me. Even Hulde nods. We eat and talk as though nothing has happened.

As the anthem plays, I look at the sky. Skira's picture flashes. I wonder what Kayn is thinking as he looks at her. Does he feel differently? Then the girl from District Ten's picture appears and I find myself feeling inexplicably guilty; I haven't spared a thought for her since she died. In fact, I'd forgotten she was dead.

"Who's left?" asks Hulde.

We think for a moment.

"That boy from Three is," Jak says.

"And that sister-killer from District Nine, man. And the guy from 10."

"One of the kids from Eleven is," I add thoughtfully. "The girl died on the first day. Must be the boy."

"Is the sobbing weakling from District Six dead?" asks Hulde. Jak considers for a moment and then shakes his head.

"No, she isn't. There are us four and … two more people." He frowns. "Who are they?"

"Man, did we ever get the tributes from District Twelve? I don't remember."

"I killed the boy," Hulde offers. No one remembers killing the girl so we assume she's alive.

"And the last person is Kayn," I add dully. They look at me. "Well, I didn't kill him, did I? So unless he's dying right this moment, he's alive." I look at the sky as though expecting his picture to appear. I can't say I'm surprised when it doesn't.

Jak does a quick calculation. "That's eleven left. So we need to hunt down seven people."

"But you said there's eleven left."

Jak starts to laugh. "Rashnid, four of them are us. It wouldn't take much energy to hunt us down, would it?"

Rashnid scowls. "It's late, man."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Means I need sleep."

I force myself to grin. "Should I sing you a lullaby, Rashnid?" I ask with fake humour. I don't know why I'm trying to joke. I only know that laughter might get rid of this oppressive feeling in my chest.

He eyes me carefully. "You any good at singing?"

I start to belt out the Anthem. Even by my standards, I'm terrible. Rashnid covers his ears. "No," I laugh after a minute. "Not really."

He taps his ear cautiously. "Flip, man, you could have given me warning."

I pull a mock-tragic face. "You mean … you didn't like it?" I pretend to sob. "No," I cry. "My life is over!"

"District One, if you start singing again, I'll arrange for that to happen."

I hurriedly look at Hulde who is holding her axe meaningfully. I gulp exaggeratedly then salute. "Yes, ma'am. Duly noted, ma'am."

She rolls her eyes. "Go to sleep, District One."

"Sure thing, District Four." I lie down on the floor, close my eyes and make snoring noises. Trying to drown out the thoughts in my head.

As he lies down, I hear Jak murmur, "Life here would have been so much grimmer if you weren't around, Jewel."


I wake up screaming into the dirt. I can tell you now: this is not a comfortable way to wake up, unless you happen to like the taste of dirt (which I don't) or you wake up every day in this position (which I also don't do). My dreams were haunted by Skira and Kayn and even the girl from District Ten. I don't know when I rolled over but I'm glad I did. I Even before I went to sleep, I knew I would have bad dreams.

I sit up and spit out dirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jak watching me with an amused expression, but I ignore him as I look for some water. Luckily, there's still some water left in my canteen so I swill that down. My mouth feels less dry.

I sit next to Jak who offers me some mush. He informs me that it is a mix of berries, bread and meat. I stare at it and put it in my mouth. Whatever it used to be, it doesn't taste anything like it now. The remaining tribute of District Two starts to laugh at my expression.

"Not up to your standards?"

I chuckle. "If you're meant to be my cook, Jak, you're fired. This isn't whatever you said it was. You lied to me!"

"Did not."

"Did too." I poke my tongue out at him childishly.

"Did not times infinity so I win." He pokes his tongue back at me. As we start to laugh, I realise that we have both reverted back to the age of five. And we're supposed to be two of the toughest killers in these Games, as far as I can tell. What does that say about us?

Once Rashnid and Hulde are awake and have eaten some of Jak's mush, I am sweating. It's only morning but already, it's boiling hot. I'm grateful when we work out that it's my turn to keep watch – I don't have to walk around.

Hulde is in a better shape than yesterday and tells us that we are not going to stop her from walking. We don't argue. After all, she hasn't left the Cornucopia for two days and she looks a lot healthier and deadlier. If she wants to walk around and possibly die, who are we to stop her?

I settle back and get ready to stand guard as the other three leave. They tell me to collect some berries. Then Rashnid remembers that I can't tell the difference between most berries so they remind me to guard the Cornucopia carefully. I resist telling them that I didn't have any other plans.

No one comes anywhere near our pile. In fact, I spend some time trying to make a pile because what we currently have is a load of ruined items and some useful things. At first, I feel worried that Kayn is going to arrive, especially as he knows our schedule, but he doesn't show up. He's probably run far away. Also, he's seen our 'pile'; he knows there's nothing there. I keep an eye out for the boy from District Nine as well but something tells me he's not going to come – after all, he has no one to track now.

I probably should mention to the others that we've misjudged that boy but I don't think I will. What difference will it make? Besides, if one of them kills him, they'll think they did something good. If I do it, I'll feel guilty (if I have enough guilt going around by this point. How much does one body have anyway?) and I won't even be able to explain why.

Liss' face comes into my mind. I'm doing it again; I'm placing tributes as humans in my mind. Just what Liss told me not to do. For the rest of the watch, I force myself to think of District One. Of my family and friends. Of how much I need to go home.

As all of this has been going on, the day has been getting hotter and hotter. My circuits become shorter until I'm spending more and more time in the shade. I'm drinking water as though I'm trying to drown myself. Which is probably difficult with just a canteen of water but I'm sure I could manage it if I put my mind to it.

So now I'm suicidal. If I'm not saving people's lives, I'm trying to kill myself. Great.

By the time Rashnid, Jak and Hulde come back, I am sitting in the shade. Jak and Rashnid have both taken their tops off. Hulde is trying to look impassive but is just as hot and bothered as me. They have some plants with them as well as two birds which they don't know the names of ("And no, Jewel," Jak says, "we don't need you to come up with a name.") which is, apparently, dinner. Well, it's got to be better than Jak's mush.

Of course, we now have to sleep and the already unpleasant day takes a turn for the worse. I don't want to sleep. If I sleep, I'll dream. But I can't sit up and say that.

"Hey, Rashnid," I say casually, "if you want, I'll take first watch."

He looks at me. "You already did watch, man."

"Yeah, I know but I like watching. I'm a really … watchful person."

"What?"

"Um … I just feel like taking a second watch. Because … I didn't get a good look the first time?"

He stares at me as though I've grown a second head. As excuses go, this one is pretty bad. I'm not even sure what I was supposed to have been looking at.

"Jewel, man, I'll take the watch."

"Fine but can I have it back?"

"What?"

I give up all hope. "G'night, Rashnid."

"Shut up, the pair of you," growls Hulde. I take her advice and keep quiet. And before I know it, I drift off to sleep.


Hulde wakes me up. Needless to say, she's not as nice as I am: she shakes me roughly and tells me if I don't get up, she'll make it so I sleep forever. Vaguely, I wonder how many ways she can phrase a death threat. That can be my new challenge. At the very least, it will keep me amused during the Games. Anyway, I get up. I'm not sorry either. I think I'd do anything to get away from the image of Skira.

It takes us a few tries to get a fire going. I suggest just holding the birds up and using the heat to cook them but my idea is shot down. As we struggle with the flames, I realise that Skira probably knew how to do this. Another reason why her death was so stupid.

We burn the first bird to a crisp but the second one comes out just right. However, there's not enough meat on the bird for all four of us so we have to eat the burnt one too. I draw the short straw and find that there really is something which tastes worse than Jak's mush: burnt bird. To make up for it, I start describing how lovely it tastes in an over-exaggeratedly posh voice. I want to do it in the tones of the Capitol but even I know that that's a bad idea.

I stop when Rashnid throws a bone at my head. Some people have no sense of humour.

Jak takes the watch so I am left to venture out with Hulde and Rashnid. For the first time since I started the Games, I am being left alone with two people who would love to see me dead. I mean, Rashnid gets on with me but, as we walk, it's clear that he would side with Hulde at any time. Though none of us are exactly talking.

I should probably say, right now, that neither of them attempts to kill me. Whether that means something remains to be seen.

The most interesting part of our hunt is when I recognise an edible berry bush. I think we've hit an all-time low. The one thing I do notice is how much fitter I am – I can walk at a brisk pace for hours without feeling tired. I couldn't do that before. The Hunger Games: the ultimate fitness regime.

In fact, the one good thing about today is that when we do get back, I have first watch and so, my time for dreaming is limited. Even when I do fall asleep, I only dream about being forced to eat burnt bird. Actually, in the dream, I enjoy the meal. This fact reminds me that dreams are nothing like reality – they don't even make sense. Why should I worry about them?

(Isn't it strange how I keep trying to justify every action I make to myself?)

When I wake up, something strange occurs to me – this is day eight. I've been here for over a week. It feels like forever but it's only been seven days really. It's not like time has been going slower (although, if the Gamemakers can make earthquakes, who's to say they can't change the way time works?) (Oh, yeah. Science) but it already feels like I'm spending the rest of my life in this jungle. I shiver at the thought. I could easily spend the rest of my life in this jungle. After all, that's sort of the point.

Hulde is already up and talking to Rashnid, who had the last watch. With less people, we seem to be doubling up watches during the day. Still, I can't help but feel slightly lonely because I know there's no way I can get into Rashnid and Hulde's conversation. I feel like I'm with Athena again. When Jak wakes up, I'm stupidly happy – at least I have someone to talk to.

Once again, we go hunting. Hulde has the watch so it's just me, Jak and Rashnid. I can't help thinking that the three of us are a bad combination; every time we're together, something bad seems to happen. As we walk, I'm half-expecting the ground to explode or for all the trees to uproot themselves and walk two paces to the left. Jak seems to sense my uneasiness because he suddenly shouts 'Boo!' making me jump.

I'd also forgotten that these two boys live to annoy the hell out of me.

By the time we return, I'm actually bored. Absolutely nothing has happened for a while. I know this is meant to entertain audiences and they might be bored but I hope they sympathise with us. Not only are we bored, but we've got to be careful in case someone does surprise us. And even though I hate fighting, I think I'd give anything for someone to leap out at me.

"Well, I give up," Jak yawns as we reach the Cornucopia. "I think they're all dead."

"Very likely, considering that there's been no cannon shots or pictures in the sky," I agree sarcastically.

"Glad you agree."

Hulde walks over to us, glowering. Her face matches my dad's when I've done something particularly stupid. "No tributes?"

"No, man."

"We need to do something."

"Like what, man?"

"Like hunt the tributes down."

"Wow," I say in a shocked voice. "Now why didn't I think of that? Hunting tributes. Wow."

She glares at me. "I meant further out, District One. I saw the boy from Three today. Why don't we track him?"

"We don't know how to track, Hulde," interrupts Jak smoothly.

"So we learn."

"And our stuff?"

She looks around contemptuously. "It's all been destroyed anyway. We can just take enough and go. What is there to guard anyway?"

Jak frowns and then, suddenly, laughs. "Well, that's me convinced. Let's go have an adventure!"

Rashnid and I glance at each other but there's no real reason not to go. It looks like we're not going to find anyone and they're not going to find us. And knowing the Gamemakers, they'll probably get just as bored as us and do something dramatic. Like a tornado. Or a fire. Or a fire tornado – why not mix the two?

I pack food, my flashlight, bandages, water and purification tablets as well as attaching a dagger to my belt. Not that I can use a dagger but it makes me feel better. The fact that I need a weapon to feel better is probably a worrying sign but I don't care much.

Once we're ready, we head off in the direction which Hulde points out. Here's where we learn that tracking is just as hard as we suspected – there are no footprints and we can't tell when the plants were crushed. It's when Rashnid informs us in a lofty tone that the boy obviously went in the stream because the rocks have been kicked that we start to giggle hysterically. Namely because I had gone ahead and walked into the stream myself two minutes earlier.

By this point, it's quite dark. We're in the middle of some trees and the temperature has dropped so we're shivering. With no way of tracking the boy now (well, we do have those glasses but it's taken all of us to get to this point. Imagine only letting one person track and the rest of us follow. We'd probably end up killing each other) we decide to set up camp.

I get the joys of second watch. As we huddle around the fire, I realise that I've done something incredibly stupid (even for me): I've forgotten my sleeping bag. I don't know why I've only just realised but, now that I have, I feel like hitting my head against the nearest tree. Sleeping bags are huge. How did I forget mine?

Luckily, Jak notices and tells me we can swap his in-between our watches (as he's first). Well, what he actually says is 'Do you want to share my sleeping bag? I won't mind (insert suggestive wink here)' but a threat from Hulde for the pair of us to shut up helps him to translate. I accept gratefully. I don't have enough pride to refuse.

For the first time since I got here, I actually get woken up from a nice dream. Typical. And, what's more, I don't see anyone. In this light – the moon's light is blocked by the trees – I could miss loads of people but if they're near, they don't visit. I'm not altogether disappointed; I'm enough of a coward that I only want action if there are more people than me facing it.

The temperature doesn't warm up until the others wake up. I'm intrigued to see that I've changed colour: I'm now an interesting shade of purple-blue. It's not a bad look but, knowing how life goes, it probably means I'm about to lose a limb or something. I notice that I've become a lot more pessimistic since these Games started. Maybe it's Skira's influence…

The moment that I think of Skira, I focus my mind on eating just enough food to keep me going for a while. I don't need to think about her or anyone else. It's dangerous. And it's not as though I was particularly attached to her. She was just another tribute.

Even if she was a friend.

"Jewel? We're leaving."

I jump and realise that the other three are all ready to start tracking. Guiltily, I gulp the rest of my breakfast down, grab my bag and mace and run after them. Except they hadn't actually left so they have to run after me. Well, the thought was there anyway.

We get lucky. After about twenty minutes, we see some footprints in the dust. We have no idea whose footprints they are but it's not as though we have anything better to do – the Hunger Games has a surprising lack of entertainment for the contestants – so we follow them.

When Rashnid falls into a stream, we realise that the trail has more-or-less disappeared. We debate our next move – it's getting hot again (though Rashnid says he doesn't notice) and we don't know which way to go. There's some bent grass in one direction and a lot of fallen leaves in the other. Skira could probably have worked out what all of this means but the best I can come up with is: 'maybe it got windy'. Not exactly the words of a brilliant tracker.

"How about this? We spin a knife," I suggest.

"Or we could go this way," Rashnid hisses, pointing to my left.

"Why that way?" asks Jak.

"I say, trust in my knife," I add.

"But what if your knife doesn't point to the boy from Three who's right over there?"

Well, that gets our attention, to say the least. We turn to look in the direction Rashnid is pointing to. I just manage to see a figure walking through some undergrowth. Without a word, we start to run after him.

I'm glad I'm not the only idiot in our group: the four of us running together through bushes makes a noise … which the boy hears. He turns, glances at us and then runs for it. Somehow, I'm not surprised. Apart from the time he tried to strangle me, I've never seen this boy stay for a fight longer than five minutes. Still, if we'd snuck up on him, maybe we would have caught him.

As though to make up for this, Rashnid throws a knife after the boy. He ducks. Hulde throws a rock which catches him on his arm, but he doesn't stop running.

"He's … fast," pants Jak.

"Or we're … just .. slow," I pant back.

Jak considers this. "No … he's … fast."

Hulde hurls another rock which hits him in the back, causing him to lose his balance. We use the few extra seconds to catch up to him. The boy is back on his feet and facing us. He glares.

"Get it over with then." He sounds hostile.

"You pick … now to develop … some guts, man?" Rashnid mutters.

"I'm not an idiot."

Jak shrugs. "Well, I guess I'll do the honours then." He raises his spear and lunges forwards with it. The moment he moves, the boy jumps up and grabs a branch. Just our luck to catch him under the one tree in this arena which has branches.

"Told you I wasn't an idiot," the boy laughs before launching himself towards the next tree and grabbing onto the trunk. Sighing, we start to chase him.

The ten second head-start gives him time to jump onto the ground and take off. None of us are really relishing another chase but this seems like the best idea. This time, if we catch him, I don't think we're going to engage him in conversation.

We hear a shriek from ahead of us. Warily, we slow down. If something's attacking the boy, we don't want to join in. Well, I don't anyway. There's another terrified shout.

"Hey, I think I recognise this place," Jak murmurs.

Hulde looks around. "It looks familiar."

I glance around quickly. They're right. I know we've been here before. But where are we exactly?

"OK," Jak says seriously. "Be careful. I think I know where we are."

We nod. I'm still clutching my weapon as we walk forwards. I don't know what to expect. Is he being eaten alive? Fighting all the tributes we haven't found? I'm not sure. I try to breathe normally. There are no more shouts. But there's been no cannon…

As soon as we see the boy, I know I have nothing to worry about. There's a very good reason why the boy has stopped shouting – he's up to his nose in the swamp. It looks like he didn't realise the swamp was around here and ran straight into it. Horrified, we watch as he finishes sinking. His eyes are wide with fear and we can hear muffled shouts. The cannon fires about half-a-minute after he goes under.

"One less tribute," Hulde remarks in a satisfied voice. I stare at her. I'm still shuddering over that boy's death (I can't imagine anything worse than knowing you're about to die in a slow manner and not being able to do anything about it) and she's already happy. Well, two can play at that game.

"Ten down, only six to hunt," I reply in a casual tone.

"Man, she's even done the math."

"I didn't. I stole it off Jak from two days ago."

Jak smiles pleasantly. "Stealing is a crime you know."

I almost say 'So is murder' but I catch myself just in time. We haven't done any killing today so my statement wouldn't make much sense. Besides, should I really say that in front of the Capitol? I don't think they'd take kindly to it.

A feeling of surprise hits me – I actually thought about what I'm saying, thought of the consequences and stopped myself. I should be proud of myself. I'm learning. But all I feel is disgust. Because I might be learning but not once have I actually spared a thought to the boy who has just died in the swamp. And even though it's hot, that thought chills me right to the bone.