Quick AN, Clove is 18 in this story, not roughly thirteen like in the movie.
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14. Quis fallere possit amantem?
It was past noon when he next woke. Glimmer was tanning in the sun, wearing noticeably fewer clothes than they had been provided with, and Gale was sure to pause and look her up and down obnoxiously before continuing. A small fire flickered despite the harsh sun, and Gale used it to heat some pre-made soup. A quick glance showed that nothing had been done about the bodies of the mutts, but that was to be expected. The entire camp and become something of a disaster. The supplies had never been fully organized, and the Careers knew nothing about conserving food. Flies had gathered where bits of bread and cheese had been left out, and Gale tossed the spoiled food in the fire.
Pearl sat in a chair that had been inexplicably included in their haul. Gale would have rather they put in some more food, or something useful. Not that anyone else was complaining. They sun pounded on his face, and he applied some lotion to stop it from burning him. He grew thirsty, so he drank water. Mostly, he sat waiting for something to happen. He soon grew bored.
"What's the deal with the mines?" Pearl glanced his way and shrugged.
"They're done. Nothing else to do around here. We're waiting on the others to go hunting." Gale shot her a questioning look, and Pearl's interest sharpened. Cobalt wasn't in sight, so she replied. "We're waiting for now. At least until we understand how the trap works so it won't blow up in our faces."
"And until then?" Pearl leaned back, slowly toasting a gooey puffy mushroom-thing.
"Live and let live." Gale forced a smile, and sat next to her. He fidgeted. A few flies buzzed in his ear, and he shooed them away. He was nervous, jumpy. The stagnant atmosphere set him on edge. Despite the action of the previous night, Gale was restless. It was time to make his move.
"I'm going for a walk. Seeing if there are any new trails we can follow." Pearl looked up at him, concerned.
"Think anyone's stupid enough to come near here?" Gale shook his head.
"Probably not, but you never know."
"I'll leave you to it." Gale turned and walked away quickly, before Glimmer could volunteer to come with him. His bow was in his hand, and he tried to get a handle on the adrenaline starting to course through his veins. He couldn't appear nervous or Pearl would realize something was amiss. The dry grass cracked under his feet, and Gale didn't take his usual time to avoid making noise. The line dividing the plain and the woods was tangible, too straight and ordered to be natural. He brushed aside a branch, the cool air under the shade hitting him like a physical wall. It centered him, and made him focused. He was still jumpy, but not as irritated. He glided through the trees, eyes searching for his target. Under the shadow of an enormous old oak, he found it.
Gale was loath to return to the sun and the company, but his good mood encouraged him onwards. Marvel and Cobalt talked under the rim of the Cornucopia, the shade still cool despite the hot metal. Neither Pearl nor Glimmer had moved from their positions although Clove had joined Glimmer. Cato was nowhere in sight.
"And so the mighty tracker returns. What's got you excited?"
"Found tracks crisscrossing all over the woods by the lake. Seems as if we've got a tribute hanging around. I didn't spot them, so I had to wander for a while after so they didn't realize I was on to them."
"Excellent. Let's wake Cato up and get them before they run away." Gale shook his head.
"I doubt they'll leave. Might as well wait until he's rested. Still could take a while to find them. Any bets on who it was?" Clove smirked.
"Only if you aren't betting. My guess is you saw them, chickened out from the kill and are trying to gain something from it." Gale made a face.
"Four's more then two, in case you failed math in school." Clove slapped him good-naturedly.
"Not all of us can be Gale Hawthorne." Marvel and Cobalt joined them. "Let's leave as soon as he's up. I'm bored."
"You're always bored." They continued trading insults and light blows, and Gale let himself be overcome by the relaxed atmosphere. Pearl threw back her head in a laugh as she set bits of food on fire and tried to coax Cobalt into eating it. Marvel disdainfully observed the two interact with a grimace on his face. Clove looked on, torn between wanting to join in, and trying to appear mature. It was tempting, all too tempting, to imagine what it would have been like, without the Games. Gale, for the first time since meeting them, felt reluctant. This dream that they were acting out was a good one, and all he wanted to do was keep it up. Thankfully, before his ideas could become too radical or idiotic, Cato came staggering out of the tent. Cato and his gleaming, ever present sword brought Gale back to reality, and his smile of welcome was more than a little forced.
"You guys make more noise than that little squealer from eight." Cato rubbed at his eyes. The strange sleep cycle coupled with disappointment hadn't done wonders for his appearance or personality. "He was from eight wasn't he?"
"Who cares? Gale found some tracks. Apparently one of the tributes has been lurking." Cato grinned, all sleep gone.
"Excellent. Let's get-" Cato cut off and looked up. A large white parachute drifted down. He caught it one-handed, and looked inside. "Change of plans, dinner first." Pearl smiled, dropping her toasting fork.
"Fine by me." They scrounged for something to eat off, but the succulent smell of cooked meat made them less meticulous. Gale approached the bird first. It had been saturated in a brown sauce, and various vegetables and berries surrounded it.
"Want me to carve it up? No offence, but I don't want any of you spoiling my turkey."
"Well, you do have the most experience with small game." Gale ignored Clove's dig, and proceeded to quickly cut it into pieces. His arms moved mechanically in practiced motions. It wasn't often he and Katniss had caught a turkey, but they had to make do with smaller birds frequently enough that he had no trouble. Gale served himself quickly once he was done, leaving room for the ravenous Careers. They gathered in a haphazard circle, wolfing down the meal. Some of the berries Gale recognized, while others were foreign. They were all delectable, either tangy, sweet, or occasionally with a hint of bitterness. The meat was juicy and flavorful, although it had a slightly bland, manufactured taste. They bantered back and forth, enjoying themselves. Everyone was in a good mood, with a potential kill on the menu. Their merriment was cut slightly short as Gale gasped. Eyes turned toward him as his hands dug at his throat.
"Eating too fast?" Glimmer laughed, but as Gale started coughing she stopped. Pearl also began wheezing, and clutched at her stomach with a short cry of pain.
"Pearl? Gale? What the hell are you-" Cato was cut off as Clove joined the others in their misery, colliding with him in her fall to the dirt. Her eyes grew wide in fear, and she was oblivious to Pearl coughing blood on the ground beside her. She tried to pull out her knife, movements shaky and confused.
"CLOVE! CLOVE!" Cato was panicked, helpless as his district partner shook on the ground in front of him. He looked wildly around at the others, looking for either assistance or culpability. Marvel was backing away from the group, his movements uncertain. He stumbled and fell forward onto his hands and knees as Cato watched. Only one hand held him off the ground as the other caught the blood issuing from his mouth with every hacking spasm. Cato's eyes alighted on Gale's as Gale tried vainly to speak.
"P-," he dissolved into another coughing fit. "Poison." A long hand rose to point at Cobalt, who was still unaffected. Gale then collapsed on the ground.
"No, it wasn't me, I didn't-" Cobalt's eyes grew wide and he backtracked hastily before spinning around and bolting.
"You're killing her!" Cato made a lunge for him, but tripped over Pearl's body. It had been twitching violently, but quickly went still. The first cannon went off. Another followed in quick succession. Cato turned back to Clove, his muddled mind unable to focus. He grabbed at her. "Clove! Clove! Stay with me." He clutched her body, rocking it back and forth, gasping all the while. Another cannon sounded, and Cobalt began twitching on the ground, unable to run. Glimmer alone remained unaffected. She stood watching the scene before her with only abject horror. Her hand rose to her mouth, as if attempting to hold in her fear. Her head twitched back and forth senselessly, trying to deny the sight before her. A fourth Cannon went off, and still she did not feel pain. Cato's body was the last to stop moving. His eyes fixed past her, accusation and confusion present in equal doses.
A final cannon went off, and Glimmer stumbled back from the campfire. The cheerful conversation and feast of only minutes before had changed as abruptly as if it had been doused in ice water. Silence replaced the agonized cries, but it didn't comfort her. Minutes passed, and still she did not feel any deadly agony creeping into her body. She hadn't consumed enough of whatever was poisoned for it to be fatal. She collapsed, shell-shocked into the chair that had been vacated by Pearl. A dull scrapping sound caught her attention, and one of the bodies rose, a reanimated corpse brought back by some god's will.
"Looks like you don't like berries." Glimmer shook her head reflexively, trying to force her hand to grasp her mace. She stood, knocking the chair back, hands finding their positions without assistance from her mind. She stood opposite her fellow Career. Gale brushed off his mouth carelessly, and began approaching her, a strange look on his face.
"How could you…" she trailed off, unable to comprehend the vision before her.
"One thing I never told you all before joining up. I fucking hate Careers."
"But you. You're one of us. You kill and you-" Gale shook his head cutting her off.
"I didn't volunteer for this shit. I may play to win, but I didn't ask for it. You little lapdogs act like this is all one big fucking party-" Gale reined himself in. "Even if I don't make it, at least one other district'll get the extra food. None of you care about that, do you? About how winning, for just one year could save the lives of dozens of starving kids back in the other districts. No, you're just in it for the glory. You disgust me." Gale's unmitigated contempt made her take a dazed step back. He stepped forward, knife held loosely at his side, as she retreated. She could practically feel her mentors screaming at her to do something. Her foot backed into the Cornucopia, leaving her no room to maneuver. She tried to reconcile the sassy, intelligent, teasing boy with the rage-filled fiend before her.
"But, how could you-" Words failed her, and Gale smiled pityingly. He returned briefly to the Gale she thought she knew.
"Not the most articulate." He laughed, and Glimmer raised her arm, her trained body honing in on his momentary weakness, but as she brought it down she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. They were widened briefly in surprise and betrayal, and her arm faltered. The next moment he was impossibly close to her, and there was a sharp, agonizing, pain driving deep into stomach. Her arm was captured by his, and her weapon was useless in the empty air above her. "I like you Glimmer, but everything you represent," he shook his head as she slid slowly down the metal behind her, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. He stepped away, watching her, the anger back, mixed with a good deal of frustration.
"Why would you throw your life away? How could you be so deludedly overconfident?" Glimmer couldn't speak for fear that she would begin sobbing from the pain. Her breath was already coming in gasps, but she wanted to die honorably at least. The thought stuck. She was going to die. Alone, on a grassy plain, far from any help or companionship.
"Gale, please," she croaked "please, can't I just pretend that you, that you-" Gale gave her a long sad look.
"Sorry Glimmer. But I just can't fucking trust you." To Glimmer's eternal shame, she felt tears starting to run down her face. Her anger and sense of betrayal consolidated to drive her movements. She reached down to grasp the dagger still embedded in her torso, and pulled it out, breathless from the pain. Her vision went dark as she unconsciously closed her eyes as she gritted her teeth. But still, she stood, as Gale watched impressed. She made a clumsy lunge toward him, but couldn't find the willpower or strength to drive the knife into flesh. Gale tutted.
"See, this is why I couldn't sit with you." Glimmer collapsed at his feet, and Gale took a step back. Her eyes fixed on his. She was desperate, fearful, and, above all, alone. Gale only watched as she died at his feet. The cannon sounded. Gale smiled, attempted to look bashful, and started off to where he thought a camera would be.
"Sorry if I ruined your timing for the interviews. On the bright side now you only have to do," Gale trailed off, adding up numbers. "Wow, only five of us left. Anyway, so yeah sorry about that." He rubbed his hand through his hair, looking down. He was innocent. Embarrassed. Childish, even. Definitely not capable of befriending and killing half a dozen kids his own age. Gale smirked and the darkness came back. "Only four to go. Shouldn't be long now." He laughed, aware of the hysteria in his voice, but somehow it didn't seem important enough to suppress.
Gale gave a long last look at the massacre he had caused. Cato was slumped over Clove's body, eyes vacant, but hardly less cruel than in life. Confusion was written over their faces, as well as pain. There was no mistaking death for sleep, not when it had arrived so viciously. Gale strode over to Cobalt's body, ignoring the kid's face but searching for the remote he had fashioned. Next he took Clove's knives, but the others he left undisturbed. He stepped back and turned away. He didn't want to see any more of them. Gale walked instinctively over to the lake, a removed part of him intent on washing the blood of his hands. Glimmer's blood. Gale shook himself and continued on.
He hid his emotions as best as possible, knowing his every action would be dissected and discussed for years to come, even if he didn't win, but he felt his face slipping. That was bad, but hopefully not irredeemably so. He regained some control of his body in the walk to the water, and hoped by the time he reached it, that the vultures behind the screens wouldn't have much to gloat over. Overall they would still be pleased. It was the way things went; the Hunger Games were meant for entertainment more than atonement. And Gale had given them entertainment. The betrayal, the carefully planned and executed assassination. It was perfect. His audience would love it, although everyone voting for the other Careers probably loathed him. After all, it would be a shame to lose money. The water rippled as Gale knelt and began cleaning his hands.
Clouds of blood formed and dispersed in seconds. The birds fell silent before one called out. A hovercraft had arrived. Macabre curiosity turned Gale's head, and he realized with faint annoyance that they had only sent one. More economical than sending seven, but without any of the minimalistic honor. A dead tribute was worth nothing to the Capitol, and their indifferent disposal of the bodies reflected it. Gale kicked a fist-sized rock into the lake. It sent up a dissatisfying splash, and Gale walked slowly back to the Cornucopia. He had carefully memorized the placement of the mines, and avoided them out of principle. Cobalt wasn't the trustworthiest fellow, and he refused to be killed by some idiot's revenge from the grave.
Gale righted the chair that first Pearl and then Glimmer had occupied and then vacated. Superstition had never had a hold over him, although many would agree that sitting in his victim's chair was pushing it. Not that any of them could be rightly called victims. Gale had made up his mind to kill them before they had even met, and despite their individual virtues, nothing could dissuade him. They had volunteered, knowing the risks, and he felt very little pity. Killing them was as close as he could come to killing the Gamemakers or the citizens of the Capitol, and he would take what he could get; Capitol plots to turn the districts against each other aside.
That was the main problem; any strike he could make against the Capitol would only play into their hands. Resistance was futile, but that couldn't stop him. It frightened him how little he cared that he had almost called out the Capitol on its crimes. Doing so would have meant his own death, but that wasn't what had silenced his voice. Like he had told Glimmer, winning the Games would mean saving lives. He couldn't say the same for districts five, ten, or eleven, but in twelve it was unconditionally true. No matter how the Games ended, or who won now, he had accomplished something at least. A bitter smile crept over his lips. Watching the district adore them had gone to the heads of too many Victors. They thought of themselves as gods, or in Haymitch's case, devils. Either way they were self-important, and Gale was already halfway there.
After all, that was what the Games were all about. Believing that you were more important, and that your life was worth more than any of the other tributes. Winning was impossible otherwise. Not that all the Victors were proud they had won. Some changed their minds about being worth more, and Gale knew the same would inevitably happen to him. He could only hope for his family's sake that it happened after he had safely retired in Victor's village. Gale made a silent vow not to think of it any more. Thinking inspired doubts, and as much as he hated being a mindless drone, he knew thinking would get him killed.
Well, you either love me or hate me, review to tell me which. -Terence