Chapter Fourteen: Feast of Fools

I woke before the sun rose and roused Sam, or tried to.

I reached out and touched his uninjured shoulder, quietly calling his name.

Sam's eyes slipped open and I could see that they were glassy and unfocused.

"D'n," he whispered and his eyes slipped closed again.

I moved my hand from his shoulder and set it against his brow, hissing and pulling my fingers back as though I had been burned; I couldn't believe how hot Sam's felt!

"Shit," I swore and decided to check his bandages.

The sight that greeted me caused my heart to skip a beat with fear. The open wound was still wet, leaking clear fluid and yellowish pus- most of which had soaked through the strips of cloth overnight- along with even more blood. The skin around it was an angry red and I could see purplish lines leading away from the wound.

"That's blood poisoning," Flash pointed out sadly from behind me, making me jump.

I swallowed and nodded.

"Sam needs that medicine," he continued, "Desperately."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Boof just starting to wake up. Turning back to Sam, I tore up more strips from his jacket and covered the wound.

"Don't worry, Dean," Flash assured me, "I'll keep him safe until you return."

Boof, now fully awake, ruffled his red hair and spoke up, "What if something happens to you while we're gone and you have to take Sam and leave?"

"Everyone is going to be at the Feast," Flash answered calmly.

Boof shrugged, "You never know."

Flash bit his lip, thinking.

"If we're gone when you get back, I'll mark our direction with an arrow," he said, reaching down to draw an arrow on the dusty floor with one finger, "And mark our trail like that until you find our new hideout."

"Won't other Tributes follow?" I asked, terrified of the idea that Flash and Sam would be attacked.

"Hopefully most of the Tributes kill one another at the Feast," Flash said, "Besides, anyone who does survive probably won't know to look for the arrows."

"Okay," I muttered, still not completely confident but willing to admit that Flash did have a viable point.

I looked at Boof and stretched, "We should start out."

The younger boy nodded and stood.

I paused to brush Sam's damp bangs away from his face and kiss his brow.

"Love you, Sammy," I mumbled, my lips against his hot skin, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

I looked up at Flash, my eyes stinging, "If I don't come back-"

He held up a hand to stop me, "You're coming back, Dean. And with the medicine."

I swallowed and nodded, turning away and following Boof upstairs.

W

"If you can see the others," I whispered to Boof as we crept along the road towards the Cornucopia, "Don't go. Wait until they're distracted."

The boy nodded, "Or dead."

After that we remained silent, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves.

I stopped when I saw the golden gleam of the Cornucopia just past the four-way crossroads and spied a silver table set up at the mouth of the large cone, seven black packages labeled with numbers arranged atop it. On the other side of the table- our side- I could see large craters in the ground from where the landmines had exploded.

I grabbed the back of Boof's jacket and pulled him along the side of one house, waiting. The sun was just beginning to rise, nothing more than an orange glow beyond the skeletal trees in the forest but I wasn't about to stride up towards the table and be killed because I'd acted too brazen.

"What if the others aren't coming?" Boof asked, staring at the small bag at the end with a bright yellow 12 on it. There was a large black box with a number 6 on it as well but I could see the red-haired boy only had eyes for the one that most assuredly had medicine in it.

I said nothing; we had a plan and we were going to follow it.

Just as I expected, the first of our fellow Tributes arrived.

From the direction of the forest, I saw one of the boy's from District Ten approach. He was dark-skinned, with curly black hair and dark brown eyes- common physical features in Ten- and wiry. He moved quickly, stopping ever so often as though to listen for trouble. Boof and I watched the Tribute- his name was Crofton- as he stepped right up to the table and grabbed a package with a yellow number 10 on it. He paused, however, seeming to think and gazed at the other packages arranged on the table.

Moving down the table, Crofton pulled the package meant for Flash and Boof, forwards and opened it. Smiling, he pulled out a large fistful of jerk meat in one hand and a half-dozen fish-shaped biscuits that came from District Four.

I jumped a little as I felt Boof wrap a hand around my arm and squeeze. We watched, shocked, as Crofton stuffed his mouth full of the jerk meat and dropped the biscuits onto the ground before mashing them into the dirt with his shoes.

Please, I thought helplessly, please don't touch Sammy's medicine. Please, for the love of Panem, don't touch it!

I looked up when I heard a faint whistle and saw Crofton fall back with an arrow in his throat. Ava was here. A cannon shot announced the death throughout the Arena.

Boof tugged on my arm but I remained still. I was not going to let him go out there with the girl from District Seven still there; that would be suicide.

I watched silently as the girl strolled up to the table. She was a tiny little thing, about the same height as Sam, with dark brown hair that stopped just past her earlobes. She had a quiver of arrows strapped to her back and a bow in one hand. We watched as she casually picked up her package before walking back into the town not far from where Boof and I were hiding.

"Now?" Boof asked. The sun was now a red crescent beyond the black trees but I shook my head.

I was glad I hadn't let Boof go because seconds later, I saw Andrew from District Two- Career and brother to a Peacekeeper- approach the table next.

I saw that, unlike Crofton, Andrew had a weapon, a deadly-looking flail, hung by his side.

He smirked at the sight of Crofton's dead body and stepped around it to get to his package. Andrew reached down but then staggered back, an arrow protruding from his chest. He grabbed the arrow and pulled, ripping it out.

Andrew slumped slightly before straightening and glanced around, only to stumble again as another arrow hit him. The Career fell back, landing heavily on the ground on his backside and I could see him trying to pull the second arrow out, but to no avail. His motions grew weaker before he fell onto his back and lay still. Cannon fire confirmed his death.

It seemed as though Ava had decided to stay hidden and pick off the other Tributes as they came to the Feast.

I was surprised when yet another Tribute approached the table. This time I recognized Crofton's partner, Talley, and held my breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Talley, with similar physical features as Crofton, stepped slowly towards the table, his eyes widening in shock as he caught sight of the two bodies. Unlike Crofton who had been wiry, Talley was broad-shouldered and muscular; very intimidating.

The remaining Tribute from Ten looked up, eyes narrowed in the direction of the town. He pulled a wicked-looking knife from his jacket and began trotting towards Boof and I, murder in his eyes.

I grabbed Boof, pressing him close to the side of the house with one hand over his mouth.

Talley ran right past us without stopping, heading deeper into the abandoned town. I didn't relax until I was certain he wasn't returning.

Boof stared at me, his eyes wide as saucers.

"He's after Ava," I whispered, barely audible.

The red-haired boy nodded.

"Go!" I urged, "Now, while they're both distracted!"

We still hadn't seen Glamour or Max- from District Eight- but I realized we couldn't wait much longer. And with Ava distracted, it was our best chance of getting Sam's medicine.

I watched with bated breath as Boof approached the table. He didn't walk; instead, he crawled, his body pressed low to the ground to make himself less of a target.

I smiled when I saw Boof reached up and nudge the package for Sam closer and closer to the edge of the table so that he wouldn't have to stand up.

Thank Katniss, I thought, he's gonna make it.

I had spoken too soon, however. With a faint, familiar whistle, an arrow embedded itself in Boof's back.

I almost called out his name in shock but bit my tongue, drawing blood, to keep silent.

The boy grunted and dropped down, the package falling beside him.

For a long moment he didn't move and I was afraid he had died but then slowly, painfully, Boof reached out and tucked the package against his elbow, lifting his arm to cradle it against his chest and began to crawl back towards me.

"C'mon, C'mon," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.

I jumped, startled, when a female cry sounded out before being cut off suddenly from somewhere behind me.

I ignored the sound, however, eyes glued to Boof.

Within moment I realized that he was not going to make it back and so I rushed forward, not even bothering to try and crouch to make myself smaller, landing on my hands and knees beside Boof.

"I… I got it… Dean," the fourteen-year old said, smiling up at me, blood on his lips.

I nodded, "Yeah, you did. You did great."

He lowered his head for a moment before lifting it again.

"Sam… Sam'll be okay," he told me.

I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling tears slip down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized, "I shouldn't have let you do this."

"Don't… say that…" Boof said, "Wanted… to…"

I nodded and reached out, lying a hand gently on his shoulder for a moment, "Your family is going to be so proud of you. Your whole District will be."

Boof smiled, chuckling for a second before groaning in pain.

"Maybe… maybe I can help," I said, thinking that if he wasn't dead now he could still be saved, "I can carry you back with me and use some of the medicine-"

Boof's cold hand on my wrist stopped me, "No… I'm not g-gonna make it…"

He closed his eyes and rested his chin against the dirt of the road.

"Boof?" I asked, "Boof!"

His eyes opened slightly, "G-Go… b-b-back to Sam… 'fore A-Ava n' Talley find y-you."

Boof's eyes slipped closed for the last time and he let out a drawn out breath, his chest failing to rise again.

The cannon shot made me flinch but I didn't leave him for another moment. I wiped at my face and then at my nose that had begun to drip.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, "I'm so, so sorry."

I reached out and put a hand on his head, "May Katniss and Peeta watch over you."

Carefully I took the package out from Boof's arms and headed back towards the town, walking slowly, laden with grief.

W

I wasn't watching where I was walking and pitched forward, landing heavily on my hands and knees, the package flying from my grasp.

I looked over my shoulder and gasped. I had tripped over an outstretched leg. I crawled forward and grabbed the package again, hugging it to my chest and inched closer to the body.

It was Ava.

Her eyes were open, the white's turning red with broken blood vessels, her neck blue with recent bruises.

Talley had found her, I realized, and strangled her.

I saw that she was still holding onto the bow and that her quiver of arrows was still across her back.

I was going to need a better weapon then the broken spearhead I had been using.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I pried the bow from Ava's fingers, setting it aside, and then rolled her over onto her back so that I could slip the quiver off easier.

Sliding the pilfered quiver over my own shoulder and gripping the bow in one hand- package in the other- I continued on towards the house where Sam and Flash were still hiding.

W

"Dean!" Flash greeted, "I heard all those cannon shots and thought we'd lost you!"

I shook my head, "Did you have any trouble?"

Flash repeated my gesture, "You were right. It seemed like everyone was at the Feast."

I nodded, "Well, almost everyone."

My fellow Tribute looked at me curiously and I told him I hadn't seen either Glamour or Max.

"Maybe they were waiting for everyone to kill each other," Flash said, "Speaking of… Boof-"

I shook my head, "He didn't make it."

He nodded, smiling sadly, "Damn."

"How's Sam?" I asked, trying to change the subject back to the living.

"Didn't wake up at all," Flash told me.

I nodded once and opened the package. Inside was a small glass vial with a clear yellow liquid inside, a metal canister with thick white salve and a length of catgut and a needle. There were no bandages or gauze but that was alright, Sam needed medicine more than he needed the dressings.

Without bothering to wake my brother, I pulled the strips of jacket from his back and grimaced at the wound.

"I'm going to need to clean that out before I do anything else," I told Flash and he handed me a water bottle.

Carefully, I poured a small amount- a teaspoon's worth- of water onto the wound. Sam groaned in pain, his eyes opening slightly.

"Shhh," I murmured, "It's okay, Sammy."

After making sure the wound was as clean as possible and patting it dry carefully, I twisted the lid off the metal canister and scooped up a large glob of the sticky salve with two fingers.

With extreme care, I dabbed the salve into the open wound in Sam's back, smoothing it over the edges of the torn skin as well.

I wiped my hands clean and then took up the needle and suture. I was secretly glad that my brother was so ill and remained unconscious as I sewed the wound in his back closed before applying yet more salve onto it, covering the fresh stitches with pieces of his torn jacket.

I looked at the vial of liquid and decided that it would have to wait until later, when Sam was awake enough to drink it safely.

I sat, exhausted and glanced at Flash, his mouth hanging open.

"What?" I asked.

"How did you know how to do that without a note or anything?" he asked, stunned.

I shrugged, "When Sam and I were little, there was a fire in the Seam."

Flash nodded; he'd heard me talk of that during my interview with Archimedes de Soto.

"And we were all forced to live in this old warehouse," I continued, "Hundreds of us, cramped together... anyway, there's this one lady- a healer- named Missouri Mosley, who took care of anyone who was sick or hurt. I had a chance to watch her a lot since only men eighteen and older are allowed to work in the mines and that forced our father to leave Sam and I alone for most of the day."

"That was amazing," Flash said and I ducked my head, embarrassed.

"I'm not as good as Missouri," I admitted, "I just hope it isn't too little too late."

Flash reached out and squeezed my shoulder, "I'm sure you did a great job."

I nodded and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes, too tired to think of anything else but sleep.

W

"Dean! Dean!"

"Sammy?" I asked as someone shook me awake, calling my name.

"D'n?"

I opened my eyes and saw Flash's face inches from my own, his hands on my shoulders. He had been calling my name.

"What's wrong?" I asked and sat up instantly.

"Sam's awake," Flash answered, smiling.

I pushed the other boy to one side and stared at my baby brother. Sam, still lying on his back, was looking at me, his face still flushed but his eyes clearer.

"D'n," he whimpered.

I moved forward and put a hand to his brow, "Hey, Sammy."

His brow still seemed very warm and I swore silently.

"You think you can sit up?" I asked and Sam nodded.

Carefully, putting my hands underneath his armpits, I pulled my brother into a sitting position before wrapping one arm around his middle, his back facing my chest.

"Flash, can you get that vial?" I asked and the other boy nodded, grabbing it and handing it to me.

"You've gotta drink some of this, Sammy," I said as I carefully pulled off the lid, "It'll help."

Sam squirmed, whimpering in pain, but I persisted.

"Just little sips," I told him and brought the vial to his mouth.

"Lemme," Sam muttered and reached up to put one clammy hand over mine.

"Careful," I cautioned, "Slowly."

Tipping the vial back, Sam took two sips of the liquid, coughed but managed to keep from spitting it out.

Sam shuddered, "Tastes like water from a old work boot that's been rotting in the Heap."

I chuckled, happy that Sam was quickly becoming more coherent and focused.

"Do you think you can eat anything?" I asked but Sam shook his head, "Can I sleep?"

"Sure," I muttered and gently helped him lay back down on his stomach.

I put the lid back on the vial and set it aside. I rubbed a hand over my eyes and only then realized how gloomy it had become in the cellar.

Looking up, I saw that the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon.

"You let me sleep all day?!" I exclaimed, staring at Flash.

"You looked like you needed the rest as much as Sam did, amigo," he said, "Don't worry, I stayed awake."

"Why don't you get some sleep?" I suggested, "I'll stay up."

Flash nodded and moved over to where he had set his blanket out, laying on his side, back facing me.

I pressed my back against the wall of the cellar and waited for the Anthem to begin.

The Tributes who had been killed today were named- Crofton from District Ten, Andrew from District Two, Ava from District Seven and finally, Boof from District Six- which left just six in total, including Sam and I.

I fiddled anxiously with the arrows in the quiver I had stolen from Ava, taking them out, testing their sharpness against my finger, then replacing them.

I glanced over at Flash's sleeping form and sighed, wondering how much longer he had in these Games. I decided that I was not going to be the one to kill him; I would not do something so slimy. The others might form alliances and them stab their partners in the back but I was not going to stoop to that level. If that meant that Flash had to kill me, then so be it, but I was not going to murder a friend. As long as Sammy won, I didn't care what happened.

I listened as the crickets began to chirrup and caught the sound of a groosling clucking outside the window, searching for insects in the tall grass.

Standing, I spied the fat bird standing in front of the window and poised an arrow in the bow, directing it to fly through one of the broken panes.

I released the arrow and heard a dull thud as it met its target. Smiling, I crept up the stairs and outside. The night was cool and clear, the stars spattered against the dark sky like a million tiny fires.

I found the groosling, my arrow in its chest, and returned to the cellar.

I looked up to see Flash looking at me.

"We've got some more meat for a few days," I said, holding the bird up by its scaly, yellow legs.

The other boy nodded and rolled over without saying anything.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Marianne Lidell, TigerInTheMoonlight, SPN Mum, scooby31415 for reviewing.

For those of you who may not know, a flail is a Medieval weapon, similar to a mace, which is a spiked ball atop a wooden handle, kind of like a club. What makes a flail different though, is that the ball does not sit directly on top of the wooden handle, instead it is attached to a chain, which allows the user to swing it around and gain more momentum for maximum damage. Flails were actually a created based on the agricultural tool of the same name used for threshing.

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