Chapter 10:
The smoke billows up above the tree line, a black column drifting to the sky.
It means my plan has been set in motion. I'd helped Rayne gather the piles, living and dead plants, an even now she was setting them alight. Before long a second such plume of smoke appears, and she's on to the third. The fires are just close enough. Slightly threatening, but particularly inviting as well. Anyone stupid enough to start a fire in the middle of the day was either cunning, like me, or very stupid.
They take the bait. I hear Fen barking orders; watch the half-dozen or so tributes charge out into the woods.
I step out into the clearing, treading lightly. I approach from the rear of the horn. I plant my foot on its metal tip, and begin to climb. The surface is slick, and so warm in the sunlight that I can imagine it scalding my feet through my boots. When I reach the peak of the horn, I slide one of the two spears off my back, and slip the flint and tinder from my pocket. I've practiced, and they work well. Soon flame dances at the tip of my spear.
I'm suddenly sense immediate danger, like something exploding within my head. I can't help but react. I twist, and the blade, a curved knife almost like a boomerang, raises sparks as it glances off the horn. My balance goes out from under me, and I slid on my rear down the side of the horn to tumble in the grass, rolling to my feet.
The male Cerean, Epsant. He must've stayed behind to guard the supplies. I should have figured as much. Fen was no idiot. The Cerean boy comes at me with another blade, a cleaver as long as his head.
My flaming spear is nowhere in sight, I lost it in the fall. I pull out my other spear, but Epsant ducks behind a nearby door from one of the shuttles, embedded in the ground to serve as cover.
Just like that, we're at a standstill. He doesn't want to risk throwing another weapon, nor do I want to relinquish my spear. If I get in close enough, we'll attack each other, but until that he's waiting, trying to read me. May give me time to finish the job.
The fire starter is still in my hand, and I work better under stress. I move sideways to the right out and away from the horn, as I judge distance and trajectory, I hope I'm right about the pods.
Another flame lights up the tip of my spear, in a smooth, single motion I bring back my arm, feeling the breeze, seeing only my target. I let the spear fly.
The burning length of wood heads right down the wide thruster at the base of the pod.
I was right.
It blows. The remaining gases and liquid in its fuel reserves ignite. The ball of flame pops the pod's metal shell, sending pins and shards like deadly shrapnel. The blast expands within the horn, burning the food and breaking the boxes. The grass is scorched right off the ground in a radius of several feet.
I'm thrown off my feet by the blast. My mind goes all fuzzy, my vision flashes back. I can barely hear a thing; all I can smell is melted plastic.
My senses clear as I stumble away from the wreckage; I see a figure with a pointed head sprinting toward me. Epsant is burned and blackened, and very, very upset. I feel for my spears, but they're both long gone.
His knife flashes out, drawing a fresh line of pain across my stomach. Sloppy, he should have gotten in closer to make a blow that really counted, like stabbing me in the heart. He won't get a second chance.
I knock his knife hand away with my right arm, and slug him with my left fist. I grab his right arm and yank. He goes off his feet when I pull. The knife goes flying somewhere into the subsiding inferno inside the hub. I collapse, driving my knees down onto the boy's chest. I grab his pointed head and twist.
He only writhes so long before something snaps.
And someone screams.
Rayne: it's her voice. I bite my tongue till it bleeds, the pain clears my head, and I focus on her direction. Leaving Epsant's broken body; I sprint away from the flames. After all, the tributes will be returning soon, if that blast was even a fraction as conspicuous as it seemed, and they are going to be pissed.
Rayne lit the third pyre, but she never made it to the fourth. I find her there, slashed open down the front from her torso to groin, just like a subject for dissection. She's dead. Unfortunate. She'd proved a very helpful resource. At least she died with her weapon in her hand. It's still there.
My instincts save me for the second time in so many minutes, I duck away, as a bloodstained blade arcs through the air and sinks deep into the trunk of a nearby tree. It's the Aqualish tribute, the mute one, and he's right on top of me, swinging his weapon. I plant my palms on his chest and shove. It barely unbalances him enough for him to let go of his sword, leaving it stuck in the tree.
The Aqualish takes a swing, and it feels like I've been hit with a club. I go reeling, and he up and kicks me in the gut, driving the wind out of me and knocking me on my backside.
The tribute pauses to pull at his sword, still stuck deep in the trunk. Gives me time to scramble backward on my palms till the dirt that's been wetted by Rayne's blood begins to cling to my hands. I can feel the shaft of the spear as the Aqualish yanks out his sword.
He charges, but I just throw.
His head hits the dirt mere feet from my boots. The spear has gone right through his belly. He gurgles and thrashes a bit, till I stomp out his shiny black eyes.
Then I pick up his sword, and wipe it on Rayne's clothing. It's flat-bladed, and as long as my forearm. This, I am keeping.
My cut along my stomach is still bleeding. I tear off a handful of the Aqualish's shirt to help staunch the flow. It's not that deep, but it's probably the worst injury I've sustained since the games began. My head's still reeling, and my tongue tastes like ash.
Probably best not to stay here. If the Aqualish could find Rayne, another of Fen's crew could find me here even easier, what with the smell of blood and everything.
Sword in my right hand, left hand pressing the bundle of fabric against the cut across the flat of my stomach, I walk away into the undergrowth.