Chapter 14

Before the echoes of the cannon had finished rolling across winter landscape, Glenn said to himself with evident satisfaction, "Finally."

Wanting to curse at him, I suddenly imagined Johanna screaming at me, Don't move you idiot. He thinks you're dead.

With this realization, a new hope—and adrenalin—flooded my body; however, I calculated that Glenn might wait for the hovercraft to remove my corpse, and the chances of me surviving in this water were diminishing by the second.

Just stay still, moron, my imaginary Johanna reminded me.

Glenn's boots began shuffling slowly away, backtracking from the thin ice. When he reached thicker ice, I heard his boots begin to step upon the surface as his pace quickened. I peered out one eye to find him moving swiftly towards shore, but was again disappointed when he stopped at the ridge to watch supposedly for the hovercraft that would remove my body.

Sorry, Johanna, I thought. I was just about to close my eye when someone appeared moving swiftly almost the trees, behind Glenn. The stealthy tribute lunged for Glenn who released a horrid scream as he immediately dropped to his knees and flopped forward onto his face. The boom of canon that followed only confirmed what I already knew. The swift moving tribute then picked up Glenn's knife and began moving inland, towards the location of our snow cave.

I closed eyes, waiting for inevitable, when my imaginary Johanna shouted once more, Are you that stupid? You can get out now.

"No," I mumbled, my speech the first casualty of the hypothermia. I considered briefly the survival technique taught to me by my father and knew that exercising in these wet winter clothes until they were dry would be impossible. There was simply too much water soaked into the clothing and not enough time. I needed dry...clothes. Glenn! "Glenn's jacket," I mumbled with widening eyes.

Knowing that the hovercraft could come at any moment and take his body—and his dry clothing—I sprung into action. Beneath the water, I kicked off my boots as I pulled off my gloves with my teeth. Though my fingers were crippled, I was able to grip the large zipper and open my jacket. I next undid enough of my winter pants to let them slip from my legs.

Adrenaline surged through me with the realization that I had one shot, one last chance at life. Kicking my legs, I attempted to pull my lightened body out of the water. When the ice broke beneath me, I tried again knowing that I needed every bit of luck. Kicking vigorously beneath the surface, I clawed at the ice, and when the ice held, I carefully turned my torso ninety degrees until my legs were out of the water. Cautiously, but swiftly, I rolled away from the hole over the hard ice. Soon back on steady ice, I rose painfully to my feet, dressed in wet thermal underwear and socks.

I ran forward with all the energy I could muster, but to my horror, the hovercraft appeared above Glenn's body. At the brink of exhaustion, I ran onward, up the embankment into knee-deep snow. As I struggled on the ascent, the four-pronged claw of the hovercraft lowered and wrapped around Glenn. I began leaping through the snow and soon reached more solid ground. With Glenn's body rising out of the snow, I sprung forward, wrapping my arms around his legs. My crippled hands struggled for a better grip until they locked around his belt. His body continued to rise, resulting in me dangling a few feet above ground. Whether by choice of the claw operator or fate, Glenn's body mercifully slipped from the steel jaws.

The pair of us dropped into a heap into the snow, and I began stripping the winter clothing from Glenn's body without hesitation. Ignoring the blood on his jacket and the hovercraft floating overhead, I quickly began donning his snow pants. I next brushed off the snow from my thermal soaks and slipped them into the winter boots. When I shook the snow off the winter jacket, I found the jacket heavy with blood but knew it would still keep me alive. I zipped up everything snug and then slipped on his gloves.

Moving inland for the shelter of pine trees, I could hear the claw descending once again to pick up Glenn's body, but I did not stop to watch. Every step I took hurt. I hadn't been in the water long enough to suffer frost bite, but the early warning signs were evident. Hobbling through the pine trees, I wiggled my toes and stretched my fingers. I made sure the hood of the jacket covered my ears.

Upon reaching a secluded spot, I assessed my situation. Glenn's clothes were large for me, but they would do. Their size did allow me to wiggle my fingers and toes more freely. The pain also told me that I would recover. Following my survival training taught to me by my father, I exercised in place out of the wind. I moved my digits, counting them repeatedly between sets of pushups and jumping jackets. Though exhausted, I kept moving with the knowledge that this was the only thing that would raise my body core temperature and keep me alive.

When my fingers and toes began to itch, I knew my body temperature had returned to normal. I collapsed to the ground and began shoveling snow into my mouth as I scanned the landscape for any movement.

Was that the big guy from District Ten? I pondered, trying to ignore the blood in Glenn's jacket. The sticky wetness seemingly pressed into my back, and I would have to accept this deathly reminder since blood does not evaporate like sweat.

Recalling the direction the tribute headed after killing Glen, my focus turned towards the location of my snow cave. It also dawned on me that a hovercraft has yet to appear at that site; this hovercraft was what Glenn had been pondering. Someone was still alive at the snow cave, and now the boy from District 10 was heading there to investigate. He had to be, I thought. There are only a couple tributes left.

The cannon boomed, startling me to my feet.

I began to guess at what might have happened: Did Boy from Ten kill the last survivor, someone who may have been expecting Glenn to return to the scene? Did a Career ambush Ten? Using both hands, I slapped my head and said aloud, "Think. Think. Focus you idiot."

Hearing the faint buzz of a hovercraft, I noticed the faint flashing lights floating over the location of my snow cave, indicating that the last surviving tribute had left the area.

Are they coming back here? Am I the last tribute preventing them from going home? Hyperventilating, I turned in small circles as I tried to reign in my emotions.

My imaginary Johanna screamed in my head, Hide, you idiot.

Contemplating the possible snowdrifts and pines under which I could hide, I nearly began to weep at the idea of the arduous tasks of digging another shelter. My hunger and struggle with hyperthermia had left me spent. For the first time, I found myself craving that poor rabbit. Food!

I turned to the lake, to the Cornucopia. It's unguarded, but is someone returning there now? I began sprinting for the lake. When I reached the ice, I fell onto my stomach, but let the momentum carry me until I was back on my feet.

Though night had descended on the arena, the golden color of the large Cornucopia reflected the ambient winter light as it rose out of the hazy darkness. I slid to a stop at the entrance and found a sparse setting. There were almost no weapons to be found except for a few knifes piled in a wood crate. At the mouth of the cylindrical cone, I discovered a shallow depression roughly hacked out of the ice: a failed attempt at ice fishing I presumed. Deeper inside, more wood crates had been stacked to form a wall, beside which a wood ax leaned against the cold metal wall. On the floor, behind the crate wall, branches from pine trees had been layered for bedding.

My snow cave would be much warmer than this, I thought. Pausing to scan the lake, I returned to the crates to look for food. When I found the crates empty, I tore apart the pine branch floor. As I pulled up the last branch, an object wrapped in a silver parachute rolled onto the ice. Unwrapping the nylon fabric, I nearly wept when I found bread. I took a large bite as I again searched through the pine branches. Further inspection produced a smaller wrapped object that turned out to be cheese that had frozen rock hard. To soften it, I tucked the cheese into an inside jacket pocket, to be consumed once I was somewhere safe.

With increased urgency, I thought it best to return to shore and the shelter of trees. I cautiously peered out of the Cornucopia in search of movement across the ice. As I debated which direction to run, the nightly anthem began to play, which startled me since the time was much later than imagined in the dimly lit winter landscape. The seal of the Capitol floated in the night sky in the spot where the faces of those who died today would soon be displayed. Waiting for the completion of the music, I postponed my dash for shore, thinking it useful to know if more than two tributes remained. More importantly, I wanted to learn who would be hunting me.

The sky went blank, and after a brief agonizing pause, the faces of those who had departed this world for new adventures began to appear high above me. In ascending order of district, I recognized Paramore and Sheen of District 1, Valeria and Glenn of District 4, Ricky of District 6, Maevery's friend Rye from 9, and finally the boy from District 10, Gavin.

I fell to my knees with the realization that Maevery was still alive. I was still alive. We were the final two tributes. But you're hurt. I saw them stab you. On the brink of tears, I began slapping the ice with my gloved hand as I said aloud, "You won. You won. You're going home"

Jumping to my feet, I considered running back to our collapsed snow cave, but hesitated since the prior hovercraft meant that Maevery had left that area. Contemplating where to search, I suddenly realized what had to be done to finish this nightmare. Retrieving the wood ax from the Cornucopia, I headed for shore.

Leaving the biggest and heaviest log on shore, I began pulling my pile of pine and deciduous branches over the ice. This pile also contained various logs and thick branches scavenged from the trees along the shore. The heap slid easily over the ice, and I soon reached the ring of launch pads in the lake's center where I began stacking the wood before the Cornucopia.

Reflecting off the ice brilliantly, the resulting bonfire stretched upward. The bonfire of dead wood and dried branches crackled with the occasional loud pop as the flames continued to climb into the windless night. It had taken three trips, but I had no doubt that my fire could be seen through the winter haze from anywhere in the arena.

Sitting on a dense pine branch to keep my sweaty body insulated from the ice. I soaked up the warmth of the fire and smiled free of fear—ignoring all other worries for the moment. After some time, while staring at the thin layer of water forming harmlessly under the fire, I heard Maevery's call from across the lake.

"Hey, idiot. How about giving your district partner a hand."

Scrambling to my feet, I spotted Maevery's silhouette moving near the shoreline, limping heavily. I grabbed the pine that served as my cushion and rushed towards her.

When she spotted my approach, she sat down onto the ice with a hard thump, groaning loudly in pain. She somehow smiled when I slid to a stop at her side, asking me, "Do you think your fire is big enough?"

"I wanted you to see it. I thought it better than stumbling through the dark looking for you."

Maevery shook her head. "A fire a faction that size could be seen from the mountain. It's going to attract muttations."

"I wanted it warm." Glancing towards the mountain, I shrugged. "Plus, there has never been a sign of mutts near shore. From what I saw of them, they were designed to roam the mountains, not the lake."

"Well, we might as well use your little fire to cook this." Maevery lifted the rabbit.

"Is it still safe to eat?"

"Who cares. I'm starving."

"I found bread and cheese in the Career camp. I saved you half. Come, get on the branch; I'll pull you the rest of the way."

Once Maevery centered herself on the makeshift stretcher, I gripped the base of the branch and began dragging her towards the fire. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Bad. I was stabbed in the side. I'm surprised that I haven't bled to death by now."

"The knife must have missed all the major arteries."

"Perhaps. If I don't make it till morning, you'll know why."

"You'll make it."

After a long pause, Maevery finally asked, "What happened to Glenn? Did you kill him?"

"No. I did try losing him in the thin ice near shore, over by the inlet of land, but I ended up falling through instead."

Maevery chuckled at the insanity, groaning from the pain of her laughter. "How did you get away?"

"I didn't," I replied. "I had closed my eyes and was waiting for the dark sleep to come when the cannon fired for someone else. Glenn thought it was for me, so he moved back onto shore to wait for the hovercraft to remove my body. Someone then snuck up and killed him. I think it was the boy from District Ten. When that guy took off towards the snow cave, I stripped off my wet and heavy winter gear and crawled out of the water. I ran for Glenn as the Hovercraft appeared. I even had to fight with the claw until it dropped us to the ground. As you can see, I'm now wearing Glenn's winter clothing."

Maevery glanced over her shoulder. "Is that dark patch on the back of your jacket blood?"

"Yes." After a long pause in our conversation, I needed to ask, "What happened at the snow cave?"

"Everything became quiet after Glenn chased after you. But, I was paralyzed from the pain from my wound. I pressed my hand against it to slow the bleeding, but to be honest, I thought I was done for and crawled to Rye. I brushed the snow from his face. He looked as if he was sleeping."

When Maevery failed to continue, I asked in a consoling tone, "There were two cannon shots when I was at the lake. Who was the first shot for?"

"I think the guy from District One. He never moved again after Rye attacked him, but I thought I could see his faint breath. Must have taken some time to bleed out."

"The second cannon?"

Maevery voice softened. "The boy from Ten. You were right; he snuck up to investigate what had happened since the hovercraft had not removed any bodies. He must have known that one of us was still alive. He began spearing us one at a time as he searched for weapons and food. I buried my face in the snow to hide my breath and played dead as he worked his way closer."

"How did you defeat him?"

"I didn't," replied Maevery, her voice rough with emotion. "Rye did. Right before the boy was going to spear me, Rye's leg twitched involuntarily, probably from the onset of rigor mortis. Gavin spun around and speared Rye instead. This allowed me to lunge upward and stab him in the neck. When he tried to swing around to spear me, I drove my knife deeper, and he dropped like a wet towel. The cannon fired for him seconds later." Maevery became flush with emotion. Wiping her tears, she said, "Even in death, Rye saved me."

Reaching the bonfire, I pulled the make shift stretcher parallel to the fire. I knelt before Maevery and said, "No matter what happens; Rye will always be the true victor of the games."

Maevery nodded as she said in a soft tone. "I agree."

I retrieved the bread and handed it to Maevery, who immediately took a large bite. I then asked, "Where were you sheltering?"

With slight difficulty, Maevery swallowed her bit of bread and replied, "Not knowing if you or Glenn had survived, I simply knew that I had to hide. As you can see, I did not have the energy to run, so I hobbled into the clearing and walked over the exposed prairie grass to hide my tracks. I soon found a good pine tree to hide under. After I saw the faces in the sky and realizing that you were still alive, I passed out from exhaustion. I awoke later to the large fire in the center of the lake and knew it had to be you."

I removed the softened cheese from my pocket and broke it in half. "Here; this is to celebrate District Seven's victory."

Maevery sniffed the cheese but failed to smile.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said.

I tapped her leg. "You're going home."

"No I'm not. I'm getting weaker by the minute."

"If you want to take me out right now, I won't be mad. I won't even try to save myself."

Maevery brow furled before she struck me on the shoulder, hard. "Don't say that. I couldn't have asked for a more trusted and loyal district partner. I will never hurt you."

Smiling, I began rubbing my shoulder. "You just did."

"Shut up."

"See, you're perking up. The bleeding must have stopped. You just need food. We should throw the rabbit over the fire."

Maevery unzipped her jacket and nimbly exposed her side to me. Illuminated by the bonfire light, I could see a giant purple contusion, the discoloring stretching largely in all directions. Without needing to look closer, I could tell her wound was bad and still bleeding, though slowly. When I diverted my eyes, Maevery zipped up her jacket and said, "Find me a branch, and I'll attach the rabbit."

"Alright."

As the gutted rabbit was prepared, Maevery looked at me as if she could read my mind. When I began refusing to meet her gaze, she said, "Don't be a hero. Don't think you can trick me into killing you. I'm not going to fight you. We let the arena decide who goes home. Do you understand?"

"Okay." With a simple nod, I exchanged a smile with my friend and repeated her words. "We let the arena decide."