Twilight was falling fast.
"It gets dark quickly here," Hitch said. He saw Troy and Moffitt exchange glances and he felt stupid. Of course it got dark quickly – if that's what the Gamemakers wanted, that's what would happen. Things had been pretty quiet for the past couple of days, and darkness made everything more dramatic and terrifying.
At the moment, they were still at the oasis. The Cornucopia could be made out through the deepening darkness and Hitch was sure that the Careers were grouped there. It made sense, since all the supplies were gathered there, besides the ones that other tributes had taken. But how were they getting water? It was still early in the Games, so they were probably making do with what was in the supply packs.
Pretty soon, though, they'd run out of water, and this oasis would be the first thing they'd hunt out.
Tully moaned a little. Hitch tore his attention away from the Cornucopia and glanced over at him. They'd laid him out under the tree after they got him bandaged up, but he was still out of it. He'd opened his eyes a couple of times, but they always closed again. He was clutching his stomach and rolling back and forth restlessly.
Moffitt, who had seated himself beside him in an hourly vigil, moved closer.
"He's feverish," he said. "Bring me some of that water, Troy."
Troy might've been the other leader of the group, but when it came to medical issues, Moffitt took the lead. Troy walked over to the pool. After tasting it earlier on, Moffitt had pronounced it poisonous, but he had deemed it all right for uses such as washing and cooling down. They didn't want to risk their precious water purification tablets until they absolutely had to.
Hitch was more glad than ever that he'd stuck with keeping Moffitt on the team, because now that the opportunity to have Tully on the team had presented itself, he needed to actually keep him alive long enough to lay it all out. And Moffitt was the most helpful in that regard. Hitch was content to let him fuss over Tully while he and Troy figured out their next move.
Once the water was with Moffitt and Tully, Troy walked over and stood by Hitch.
"Why are we wasting our time and energy on him?" he asked, throwing a nod at Tully. His voice was hard and frustrated. Hitch had expected this conversation, once the first flush of danger from the attacking tribute had passed. Especially since the issue with Moffitt. It was easy to see that Troy didn't trust any of them, but he was more comfortable with Hitch than the other two.
"I understand about Moffitt," he added. "He's been useful, with that water hole, and he'd do a good job of fixing us up if we got hurt. But what about that kid from District 12? What good's he going to do?" Troy put his hands on his hips and cocked his head, staring at Hitch. Hitch fought the urge to look away. He couldn't back down if he expected to win this little battle.
The only problem was that he didn't know what to say.
Hitch wanted Tully on the team, but he couldn't really explain why. Sure, he was okay with knives, but that didn't really mean anything. He was willing to bet that he was an excellent shot with that slingshot they'd found him with, but what good was a slingshot against arrows or spears or axes? He probably had some practical know-how, but since he knew enough about District 12 to know it wasn't a desert, that was neither here nor there.
No, he wanted Tully on his team because of his character. Tully wasn't the kind of guy to leave his friends or allies in the lurch, and since there were so many variables in the arena, that's who Hitch wanted most on his team. Not the warrior tribute from District 2, or even the smart tribute from District 3. Either of them could go off and leave him at a moment's notice, but Tully was someone who, he felt, would stick with him.
Perhaps that wasn't the best thing, since they were in the Hunger Games, but he brushed that aside for the moment.
As best he could, he explained it all to Troy, adding in what he knew – or thought he knew – about Tully's skill with knives and slingshots. He left out the bit about Troy and Moffitt leaving him, since he knew it wouldn't go over well.
"At least give him a chance," he said. "He's in no condition to stab us in the back."
"Yeah, well, if you do this kind of thing too much, you will get stabbed one of these days," Troy said. Hitch wasn't sure if he meant that one of his teammates would do it, or someone he took in and trusted, someone who turned out to be a traitor. But, then, wouldn't they all be traitors in the end?
Troy said nothing more, and Hitch let the subject drop. For now, Tully was in.
Through all the talking and thinking, the night had well and truly come on and the temperature had dropped drastically once again. Hitch turned back and went in closer to the pool where everyone else was gathered at the moment. He wanted to light a fire, but if they did, the Careers would certainly see it and go on a killing spree. Maybe that's what the Gamemakers were doing – making it so cold that they would light a fire.
Well, Hitch wasn't going to fall for it. Let some idiot get himself killed.
"Got a blanket?" Moffitt asked. "We should keep him warm."
"What about the fever?" Hitch said.
"I've cooled him off as much as possible. If we leave him out in these freezing temperatures, he'll probably die." Moffitt accepted the blanket that Hitch held out to him. A few feet away, Troy shook his head and turned his back to them a little. Hitch knew what he was thinking. There were only two blankets, and if Tully had one, where did that leave them? But Hitch didn't care. Troy could have the other blanket. He wouldn't take one, and he was sure Moffitt wouldn't. Not with a sick person who needed one.
"I think he might've gone into shock from that wound," Moffitt said. "His shoulder's a bit banged up as well, but it's an older cut. Probably got it at the Cornucopia. I'd say his stomach's upset as well, since he keeps shifting around and holding it." He shook his head. "Why would someone stab his arm of all place? That tribute had every opportunity to kill him."
Hitch had no idea. He was too cold to think straight.
He hugged himself hard and hunched over, trying to conserve body heat.
The anthem of Panem blasted out over the desert and the glowing seal of the Capitol lit the night sky.
They all watched, except Tully, but there had been no deaths that day. Troy looked over his shoulder at them, a flicker of fear on his face. Hitch knew why – he shared that fear as well. Since there'd been no deaths, the audience would be bored. Ready and waiting for whatever the Gamemakers wanted to do next. And since dragging out the Games was no fun when you could have a bunch of quick, bloody deaths, Hitch was certain something would come that night.
"We've got to keep moving," he said.
"Got to do more than that," Troy said, standing up. "We have to go take on the Careers over there or some other tributes unless we want to be chewed to bits by mutts or fried by some fireball or electric storm." Without another word, he gathered up a couple knives and an axe. "Let's move it."
Hitch knew he was right. They'd have to go engage a tribute or four in battle. Some of them could die. But it wasn't that thought that made him sick to his stomach. It was the thought that were actually going out and hunting down other tributes. They were going to kill people out of choice – and necessity – now instead of self-defence or some crazed feeling at the Cornucopia.
There was no use thinking about it, though. That was just how the Games worked.
"What are we doing with him?" Troy asked, pointing his chin toward Tully since his hands were full.
Hitch paused from hanging axes on his belt and looked over at the half-dead tribute as well.
"He can't come," Moffitt said. "One of us needs to stay here and look after the supplies, as well as him." He paused a moment, and then said. "I'll do it."
Hitch accepted his offer without hesitation. Moffitt was right. Someone needed to watch the supplies, since he and Troy couldn't very well lug them all into a battle with the Careers – the best battle option at the moment since besides Tully's attacker; he hadn't seen any other tributes. Plus, Moffitt probably wasn't all too keen on fighting just then, because even though he might be a genius at strategy and snares, he wasn't a Career and fighting probably wasn't something he was looking forward to.
Troy nodded as well, and they set off.
Hitch steeled himself for what was to follow.
:::::
Dietrich figured that his best option at the moment was to keep on the move. Now that the mix of Careers and that District 3 tribute had found the oasis, it was no longer a safe place for him to stay. And the Careers most likely knew about it as well. If he kept on the move, he could find other tributes who were on their own, and it would also make it harder for the Gamemakers to find him. He'd been too vulnerable, staying at the oasis all the time.
There'd been no deaths that day.
He would've been more worried if his tracker had been in, but as it was, the Gamemakers couldn't do much.
He hoped.
There was a low rumble from the sky. He looked up and saw that the velvety black sky was turning red and angry. They knew his general location. They could send some kind of storm and catch him in it. Dietrich shivered, partly from cold and partly from the fear that suddenly seized him, and moved on. Best to keep walking.
The area around him was dull and featureless.
Until the ground split open almost under his feet.
He skidded back from the edge and fell to the ground.
Creatures bounded from the hole in the ground.
Mutts.
He got to his feet a second before they reached him, but he knew it was too late. Or, it would've been too late if they'd been interested in him. But instead, they ran right past him, sometimes right on top of him, and the next thing he knew, he was staring as the sharp-toothed, wild-eyed, spiky-furred animals disappeared from his sight.
They were going in the direction of the oasis.
No attention had been given to him, so he wasn't the target. It was whoever was at the oasis, and that meant the tributes he'd seen there earlier, if they hadn't moved on. Anger filled him once again at the Gamemakers machinations and without another thought, he gripped his spear more tightly and ran after the now long-gone mutts.
They weren't programmed to attack him. He would be relatively safe, especially since his tracker was out. All he wanted to do now was help those tributes fight off the mutts – even if they had taken shots at him – because by doing so, he'd be working against the Capitol once again. The audience would see that he'd come in to help in the fight, that he wasn't about to be bound by the Gamemakers' invisible laws.
If it was his last act of defiance, he wanted it to be a good one.
