Chapter Twenty-One.
It wasn't like they wanted to do this.
If they had any other choice, Lucas and Adrina would have happily slunk back into the depths of the forest, merrily going about their last days, forgetting about the truth of their new world. But that had never been Lucas, and it had never been Adrina. The two of them had grown up painfully aware of how little they mattered, and how much they really wished they did.
So, they were prepared. Above them, as the red glow spread out through the trees like muscle attached to the bone-white branches, Lucas and Adrina focused on their kill. Or kills. They didn't necessarily hope that it would be more than one kill, but the two of them were above those below the trees. Two kills would be a better, easier-for-the-future, outcome.
For another half hour, nearing on forty-five minutes, a deathly silence hung thick above them. Ryon and Dante were motionless. Adrina and Lucas holding a pent-up breath, cold air going in and out of their noses, burning their insides, rattling their confidence and courage in the upcoming fight. All it took was one mistake, one cough, one sneeze, one snap of a twig, and they wouldn't have the advantage any longer.
Unfortunately, Lucas had noticed the two of them swapping guard shifts. Not everyone were idiots, after all. Lucas would have done the same thing, rotated with Adrina in case of an attack. Now that it was morning, they'd soon set off. Not that Lucas or Adrina could be sure it was morning, what with the air in a constant stage of night-time. But it had that feeling to it. This was the beginning of the second day.
And now, at least one person was about to lose their life.
Adrina watched the two below her and bit her lip. She wasn't confident that she could kill them when put to the test. Lucas seemed so resolved to do what had to be done, he wasn't thinking about the consequences. Adrina knew what this could do to her. Not that she'd had the best life growing up, quite the opposite in fact. But killing came nowhere near as close to the shit she'd gone through. This was on a whole new level.
But I have to do this. She closed her eyes for a millisecond, opening them up, hoping that her steady breaths would control her mind and help her focus. As long as she had Lucas, as long as she had her wits about her, this could and would be a piece of cake. They had the advantage. This wouldn't be as hard as she was making it out to be.
Unless…
Five minutes went past. The last five minutes until both of them woke up, Dante kicking Ryon in the knee with a tired grunt.
"Get up you lazy shit," he groaned, rolling sideways and picking up the knife, settled in a pile of leaves. "I gave you more time than you gave me. Thanks, yeah? Don't mention it."
Ryon smiled, his hair a mess through sleeping on the forest floor. He stood up, yawned, and stretched his arms out. "What's the plan for today?"
Adrina looked at Lucas as Dante answered. He held a finger to his lips, motioning to his knife, then to hers, and then to the short jump they'd have to make to kick things into action. Dread snuck into their hearts, but both of them, clinging to a sense of strength, fought through it. This is it…
"Well," Dante snickered, rolling his neck with a click. "First plan, we deal with the intruders."
Shit… When Ryon raised an eyebrow, then went stark white as Dante pointed upwards into the trees, Lucas swore out loud and jumped down. They'd lost their moment. Dante scrambled left, his movements nowhere near as sloppy as they should have been, as tired as he had seemed seconds ago. He went for his knife and slashed the air, missing Adrina by half an inch as she dropped, tucked her arms in, and landed with a thump on the ground.
Lucas dove for Ryon, bringing his fist up and catching the boy off guard. There was no time for words. No apologies for what they were doing. No nothing. It had to be action and then they'd deal with the moral, internal consequences afterwards.
Ryon deflected one fist, then twisted out of reach of Lucas' knife. It grazed the tree, slicing away bark, giving Ryon a chance to send a hand straight for Lucas' cheek. The slap that echoed out through the forest was nothing special, but it stunned Lucas enough for Ryon to charge into his stomach, bringing him down into the leaves.
No. Lucas growled and brought his head forwards, smacking straight into Ryon's face. Both boys groaned, bringing a hand to their temples, soothing the pain away. Lucas shoved Ryon off and crawled through the dirt, hands raking through cold mud for his weapon. Ryon stamped hard on his back.
Before he made his next move on Lucas, however, he caught sight of Dante.
Adrina was pushing him backwards, slashing wildly, left and right, up and down, her hands a ferocious blur in the air. She had no idea what she was doing, but as long as she scared Dante backwards, she could take back the advantage they'd had all night.
Dante persevered. Ryon met his side and the two quickly launched a joint attack. Adrina's knife met Ryon's, metal on metal ringing out and grating on their ears. They continued on, one second going on defence, the next on offence as they tried to cling to an advantage over the other. Adrina was tiring out. Dante was practically pallid with exhaustion and fear of potential death. But like he'd always done, he fought through with surprising obstinacy and pushed Adrina towards a tree.
If she was forced there, she'd be pinned down and there'd be nothing she could do to stop them killing her. Adrina gritted her teeth and lunged, bringing her arm into Dante's neck, pushing him to the ground and then slicing the air near Ryon's head. Her blade slit the top of his ear, a hot, fiery pain bursting across the wound, bringing tears to his eyes. He bit his tongue and sent a fist to the bloody mess that was already Adrina's mouth, a casualty from her fight at the bloodbath.
Her split lip split even more. She tasted the metal tang of blood and spat a wad of red phlegm to the leaves. Lucas joined her side and together, they almost got the advantage over Ryon, a split second more time, he'd be dead. But Dante cared for his ally. More than he'd ever wanted to. Ryon had saved him yesterday when he could have walked away, and despite how tired his entire body felt, he would not leave him to die knowing he could have done something.
He wrapped his arms round Adrina's legs and brought her crashing down. Lucas was distracted enough for Ryon to dodge his next attack and skirt around the following slashes of his knife. Adrina's face exploded with pain, her chin practically grinding into the rocks embedded into the earthy forest floor, mingled with the grass.
She cursed out loud and twisted round, kicking upwards and hitting Dante right in the crotch. Ryon tried to make his way towards their attackers, but by then, the two of them were on his ally. There was nothing more he could do.
The boy from Eight ground his teeth together, spat at Adrina's feet, hunched over in pain, and felt Lucas step up behind him. "Fuck you." Those were Dante's final words.
Lucas drew his knife along his throat, slitting the skin from ear to ear, a crimson jet showering Adrina as she squirmed backwards, doused in the only thing that kept Dante alive for a few seconds longer.
When he swayed and careened sideways, a cannon went off and Ryon froze. Lucas and Adrina stared at him.
"I'm…" He was off before Adrina could say anything to her poor, now lonesome, District partner. She'd played a part in taking his last ally from him. Lucas wiped his knife on the back of Dante's worn clothes and helped Adrina onto her feet.
"I'll leave his fate up to you," Lucas looked the opposite of happy. His face was drained of colour, fear rattling through him as the gravity of what he'd just done slapped him hard. But he still needed to continue on. He needed to do what was right for himself. "We chase Ryon, or we go on."
Adrina wanted to cry. She almost did, there and then, standing near a dead body of a boy that had seconds ago been fighting for his life. She shook her head weakly, looking over Lucas' shoulder, focusing on a random tree somewhere in the distance.
"We leave him."
Lucas nodded, agreeing without complaint. They'd taken out one tribute. For the sake of Adrina's wellbeing, and maybe even Lucas', they would not go after Ryon.
They'd completed part one of becoming a tribute.
But there was so much more they had to do.
It was the second day. They knew from here on out, everything was about to get a thousand times harder.
That was the way of the Hunger Games.
Nothing came without a price.
Oh shit. Oh shit. I'm screwed. I'm dead. I'm-
Ryon stopped, somewhere lost in the forest. He had no idea if he'd been running deeper into its terrible confines, or back towards the village. He wasn't sure which was the better option. All he could think about, standing with his breath ragged and harsh, an invisible spear stabbing into his side, was Dante. Dante.
His eyes, almost, a second after he stopped himself, misted with tears. He would not cry. He would not. A strange, strangled laugh pierced the ominous silence around him. Dante was dead and Ryon was losing his mind. Or at least, for a brief moment, he thought he was. He'd spent so much time hating the world. Now that he was in the worst place imaginable, he'd actually found someone that had made him laugh without having to get him drunk or dry-humping him into a state of raunchy pleasure. Dante had meant something. He wasn't some shallow acquaintance that made Ryon believe he could always be a teenager.
Maybe two days ago, he could have easily considered leaving his ally and all he'd have felt was fear over being alone, not the actual idea of being without Varity and Dante specifically. Now with both of them dead, he was realising properly, without having anything to distract him, that he was so out of his depth he was practically twenty feet underground, clawing his way but making no progress, an eternal cycle that caged him in his hopelessness.
Dante. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Maybe he wasn't so screwed. Maybe all it took was confidence. He looked up and tried to smile. When his lip twitched once and a rattling noise ended up the result of such an endeavour, he gave up and fell against a tree. He absent-mindedly started to play with a leaf, the first leaf he'd actually seen attached to the bark of these godforsaken plants. His finger twirled it round and round, like the thoughts inside his head went in a spiral, a continuous loop of dread, and I'm-so-screwed, and everything else that would do him no good.
First, I need to get the fuck out of this forest. That had to be his top priority. Lucas and Adrina, the cold-blooded murderers that had taken his ally, his own District partner no better than the Careers, were still somewhere within the trees. They could be after him. They'd traded their humanity for an advantage in the Games.
But I can't hate them. Ryon wanted to live. And now without Dante who had made all the decisions, Ryon was faced with no one but himself to deal with. That was how he'd liked it back in Six. The independence when he wasn't smoking his way out of something, or drinking, or doing anything but the actual course of action he was supposed to be going along with.
Now he was alone and it was the kind of alone that turned his previous life on its head. He'd never dealt with responsibility. Now he had so much pressure on his shoulders, literally speaking, that it could have been heavy enough to send him into the ground.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Take a deep breath and focus… He did just that. The clouded hysteria puncturing the inside of his head went away for a moment. But it wasn't because he'd told it to. It was because, somewhere in the distance, he saw a glow, followed by the sound of footsteps. His first thought was shit, it's the Careers, I'm dead. And then, when he focused on what was really coming, his heart froze in his chest, a panicked breath parting his lips.
The man with the cleaver, floating in a mist around his feet, was joined by two dozen or so other men and women in various stages of wildness. They looked like walking corpses, high on some kind of furious energy, digging their weapons against the trees and into the ground. Sickles, scythes, cleavers, machetes, an awful looking hammer or two. Several of them held burning pieces of wood, acting as torches to guide the way.
They looked like they were going on a hunt.
Oh… He realised they were all looking at him, and when he turned to see where they were chasing him, locked in a slow march, he saw the village on the horizon, cold and inhospitable under the red glow of the moon. They were moving for the village. Whoever they were… they were moving for the only way out of this goddamn forest.
He sucked in a breath and started to run. As long as he focused on where he was running, his mind didn't go back to what was behind him. The yellow glow of fire was all too real, however. Whenever he tried to focus himself on what was ahead, not chasing him, his mind caught sight of the fire and he wanted to break down and cry.
Just run. Run. Run. Don't stop running. Run. Run. R-
The ground under his feet disappeared. Ryon screamed, falling down and down and down into the earth below. He connected with something. When his eyes slowly focused on his new surroundings, all he saw was darkness. Then, a few moments later, dozens of feet and the raging light of the hunters' fire.
They were moving for the village.
But where am I?
He had no idea.
I'm done for.
Garner had decided he wouldn't just sit around.
Yesterday he'd been faced with the choice of lounging on his mattress, or bringing the fight to the other tributes. The fight hadn't worked. He thought of Eveny and a part of him, the part that hurt whenever he thought of Kira, made him want to shy away and let the Games pass by. He'd like to have believed if he didn't leave his shelter, the Gamemakers might let him sit it out. But that was impossible.
He thought about Kira, about what had happened, and knew what he had to do. Maybe it was stupid. But every action on impulse had some kind of manic idiocy behind it. Do or die. That was the way the Games worked. Doing usually led to dying, but so did sitting around.
A Career had killed Kira. He'd take something from them.
Garner started to move through the village, avoiding the centre and right hand side. There was a glow coming from the trees, like blurry dots of fire. But in the darkness, he couldn't make out what he was looking at. He continued on, a sense of determination inside of him that he hadn't felt for a while. He could think about getting up and fighting for himself and Kira, but thoughts were empty without action. Now he was putting something into those memories.
He wouldn't pick a fight with the Careers. He'd play it smart. Take some supplies. Not enough for them to notice, but enough to help himself make it through the Arena and its trials, and maybe somewhere along the road, impede the Careers as they wasted and wasted and soon ran out of what they needed.
In and out. That was how it had to be. No stalling. No trying to make himself do it. He had to and he would, because if he didn't, all he felt was that guilt over everything that had transpired so far. Saying no to Eveny. Leaving Kira behind. Hurting his District partner's allies. He felt like he'd been making the right decisions at the time, and then soon enough, he realised that maybe he hadn't.
Maybe he should have said yes to Eveny. Maybe he should have tried to help Kira. Maybe he shouldn't have picked a fight for the sake of fighting.
I'll be smart, from now on. He continued through the village and realised, with the moon above him, that he was getting closer and closer to where he wanted to be. If he wasn't side-tracked or distracted by not knowing where to go, the Arena was surprisingly smaller at the front of the village than what he didn't know about it towards the north.
The rising hill of sand peeked up above the rooftops. The silver pedestals where the carnage had begun and the Games took its toll on six lives, peeking above the summit. Seven were now dead. He didn't know who the cannon earlier belonged to, but a small part of him felt relieved. It was just another number. It had to be nothing more than one obstacle down, one hurdle he'd jumped, one lap around the running track that counted down his sprint for the end.
He realised, as he gritted his teeth and held onto the knife in his hand, that he was here. The line of houses ended, leaving the clearing where the bloodbath had been, the Cornucopia closer to the houses than it usually was in other Games. Rather than centred, it was nearer to Garner. That was good. The less he had to do to get those supplies, the better it would be for him.
He crept forwards as slowly as he could. Diverting left, he moved towards the edge of the last house and peered round the corner. The girls from Two and Four were more towards the bottom of the hill than the supplies, their backs to Garner and District One, talking quietly. That was a good sign. He'd rather face the prospect of fleeing Prosper and Luella than the two stronger Careers.
But where are…? It was odd. Belarius and Ivo were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they'd split up to hunt. In that case, he had to hurry in case they returned before he got in and out of there.
He thought of Kira. Then of Eveny. Then of Cillian and Rell, two people he'd injured last night just because he had to do something. They motivated him forwards. All his past regrets pouring into this action of taking the initiative and helping himself survive for longer. That would be how he'd fight through the guilt. By living for those that had died. Fighting for those he had hurt.
He made it to the back of the Cornucopia and pressed himself to it, cautiously step by step winding round the side and gazing out at the Careers. District One were facing one another, sat down, closest to the pile of weapons than the food and medicinal supplies. Another good sign. He'd rather the smaller supplies than a spear or sword. He had a knife. That was enough for now.
It's now or never. Now. Never.
Now… Never…
He closed his eyes, nodded to himself, opened them, and darted forwards.
He snaked his hand through the strap of a backpack before anyone saw him. Something rattled around inside it as he pulled it towards him, hooking it round his shoulder and hurriedly collecting another one. Prosper and Luella looked at him and jumped up, grabbing onto their weapons. Luella sidestepped to her District partner's side. They had a connection that Garner would never have with Eveny.
He faced them off. Aurelie and Darina were still unaware of what was going on, either so deep in conversation they couldn't hear, or something else was happening. Garner stared them down.
"You don't have to do anything."
Prosper shook his head. "We always have to do something."
He lunged and Garner didn't waste a second in retaliating. It was all over rather quickly. Garner brought the backpack up in an arc, slamming the boy from One in the side of the head, something clunking against his skull and bringing him down to the ground. As he groaned in pain, Garner jumped over his body and tried to grab a few bottles of water, shoving them into an open backpack.
Luella stared at him, then at the heap on the ground that was her friend. Prosper would soon get his senses back and attack. He had to be quick.
"I'm sorry," Garner pushed Luella down into the dirt and turned to go. That was when he heard more footsteps, faster footsteps, beating against the ground. Shit. He looked over his shoulder and saw Aurelie and Darina, running for the Cornucopia.
Time to go. He pulled the two backpack straps over his shoulder, held onto the knife, and started to run.
"Luella, get him!" Aurelie shouted, holding onto her sword. The Careers watched him, about to skirt round the Cornucopia. Luella took a step forward, knife in hand, and started to pursue. But… She looked at Prosper and bit her lip. He'd fought for her. She had to fight for him…
"Luella. Fucking kill him!"
I can't…
I really can't…
She was weak. She was everything she'd never believed about herself. Everything that didn't matter compared to her strengths. How she could smile. How she could light up the room and be anyone's best friend.
But she had to be a killer.
These were the Games.
These were the-
"Luella!" Aurelie screamed.
"FINE!" Luella, gritting her teeth, letting all her frustration and pain and fear out, dove straight for Garner. She missed her chance to kill him. But she didn't entirely let him get away, injury-free. Her knife grazed along his side, earning a pained yelp, and then that was it. He disappeared into the village.
She fell back and wiped the tears away before they came. She would not cry. She'd had enough of crying. But she didn't smile either. She did nothing but fall down, curling into her knees, feeling a hand on her shoulder and shrugging it off.
"I know." She said, loudly at first. "I know…" Her voice became a whimper.
Garner had gone. But Aurelie shook her head and ordered Luella to stand up. She did so begrudgingly, the four of them with weapons in hand, looking out onto the village.
"We have our first target."
Aurelie pointed to the droplets of blood, leading out from the Cornucopia and to wherever the fleeing boy was.
Let the hunt begin.
Marshall sat down next to Acacia. The quartet were getting ready to leave their little humble abode and set out for something. Marshall was pleasantly content to spend more time in this worn, fungus-ridden shack, but his allies had other plans. What those were plans were, no one seemed to actually know. Walk and keep walking. See what happens.
Marshall wasn't a fan of letting things spring from the shadows and work with the unknown. But he was happy to go along with what they wanted to do. As long as he was following, they'd be more than keen to stick by his side through thick and thin.
"It might be better to not think about what's out there," Marshall smiled kindly down at Acacia, who was staring at the door, a look of terror in her eyes. She washed it away with a smile that curled into the freckles on her cheeks. Cutesy. He was starting to make sense of why Vallah and Carson had welcomed her with open arms. They were too kind to turn her away.
"My mentor told me I should be scared. If I'm not scared, then I won't be ready for whatever's… out there." She gulped, the smile fading from her face. "Aren't you scared?"
"Terrified." Marshall told the truth. His allies seemed to get along knowing they were united in a similar state of paranoia and fear.
Acacia stood up and pulled the backpack strap tighter round her shoulder. "Well, we're all here for each other." She then smiled, extending her hand, opening and closing her fingers. "That's what allies do."
Like she knows more of Vallah and Carson than I do. For a brief moment, immaturity got the best of Marshall. A sense of jealousy that wasn't welcome. He shirked it off and grabbed her hand, laughing when she helped him onto his feet and together, they stood by the door.
Vallah watched the exchange with an overall air of affirmation. Like the overseer to their ragtag group of misfits, clinging to a sense of their normal, teenage lives. Carson offered her a smile over his shoulder. It had been his idea to venture out there and do something. Something was better than nothing, he'd rationalised.
Vallah had agreed quickly, and with her support, the idea cemented itself and became their next move. She was still working out how she was feeling over the idea of being out there, past the four walls, away from the fire they'd made in the fireplace, the food on the table and the overall normality of everything.
She wrapped it up tight inside her, forgetting about her worries, and hopped down from her spot near the back of the room. "How in the hell do you get ready so fast?"
"Good to be on your toes," Carson laughed, packing up his backpack full of everything and stepping to join Marshall and Acacia.
"Guess that's true." Vallah skipped along to their side, leaning over the four of them to open the door, and playfully pushed her group forwards and into the open air of the village. "Well then. This is fun." She laughed, less confident than she'd felt seconds ago.
Carson and Acacia looked at one another and both smiled. They'd united over Neimera, and now Carson was starting to worry over how he felt in regards to their new ally. Acacia wasn't the enemy. She wasn't anything but a girl, in his position, that had been forced here without a say in her own future. He'd planned to play it smart, despite acting his friendly self, and it wasn't working.
"Where to, boss?" Marshall said, looking at Vallah with a laugh.
She pointed to the left side of the village, more towards the centre than whatever lied north. "Walk that way and hope for the best."
"What exactly are we looking for?" Acacia refused to hold them back. She walked as fast as they could, keeping up so she wouldn't let her new friends down. "I remember coming this way and it wasn't exactly-"
"Something," Vallah said, interrupting her. "Something that's not nothing."
"We can't just sit in the background and wait," Carson added, attempting a smile. "We need to, well you know… be tributes."
"Oh," Acacia nodded, looking at the ground. She knew what that meant. What tributes were supposed to do. Unlike Marshall, she wasn't in the frame of mind to let her allies protect her. She wanted to help them to the best of her ability. But unlike Marshall, she had less of that than he did, less ability than he possessed. Two polar opposites in every sense of the word.
They continued down the empty road, a sense of dread clotting the otherwise peaceful air around them. Vallah had to tell herself things would be okay so she didn't stop and cause them to waste time doing that something they had to be doing. Rather than wallow in what she couldn't control, she had to live up to the girl that she'd been in the Capitol, and had always been back in Nine.
She wouldn't lose her cool. Not if she had anything to say about it. Especially not for the Gamemakers and the Capitol, watching with eyes full of bloodlust, hoping their something became death.
As the four reached another junction in the road, it was Marshall that noticed something odd about the scenery. The houses were placed well apart from one another as always, some further in clumped together and tightly packed, but the spaces in-between were being cordoned off by piles of furniture.
He turned to Acacia and raised an eyebrow. "You said you came this way." He'd stopped, meaning the other three froze in place. Acacia followed his finger to what he was looking at and she frowned, curiously raising an eyebrow.
"I don't remember that being there. I mean… I don't think it was." She shook her head. "I might not have been down this specific part, the houses all blend together. But as far as I remember, that was not there."
Carson and Vallah exchanged a worried look. They were in a ring of houses, a wide open point that could result in anything. The thick, gloopy dread that they so feared finally became far too real. Marshall latched onto how they were feeling and quickly grabbed hold of Acacia's hand, more out of reflex, and started to walk forwards.
He only made it another step when someone appeared in front of them. Vallah's heart went still. The other three froze to the ground. Marshall heard footsteps behind him and saw someone else appear from the shadows, an ominous harbinger of a future he was not yet ready for. A future that he would not, as long as he could do something about it, let become a part of him.
"Fancy seeing you here," Marshall said, more because he felt he had to say something than he actually wanted to. "Not that I know who you are. Step into the light."
There was a cheerful laugh in front of them, laced with a sense of hesitance. Belarius Orleans and Ivo Koehn had the four of them, an alliance made up of outliers, surrounded. Even outnumbered, they'll kill us. Carson looked at his weapon, then at his three allies, and tried to smile for the boys that had all the control over their perilous situation.
"You four seem to have found our little…"
"Trap," Carson finished, eyeing the blockade. "And a smart one at that." He realised he probably shouldn't be speaking up and bit his tongue, looking down at the ground, embarrassed. And scared. Scared more than anything, really. Similar to Marshall, Vallah and Acacia, he was not yet prepared to die. Similar to everyone, really. Who did?
Vallah held onto the spear they'd come across earlier in the morning, tucked away in their shelter. Lucky, really. Could have been nothing. She tapped it against the ground, trying to look more intimidating than she knew she came across. These were two Careers, after all. What was her group compared to theirs?
"A trap for what?" She took the lead in their little exchange. "If it's for us, you can expect a figh-"
"It's not for you." Ivo said, behind them. Vallah didn't spare a look over her shoulder. She kept her eyes rooted on Belarius, with a charming smile on his face, a sense of alert in his eyes.
"We don't want any trouble."
He raised a bow, an arrow pulled taut in the string, ready for release at a moment's notice. "I'm the one with the advantage."
Vallah felt fear tearing away at her heart. Regardless, she raised her spear in Belarius' direction. "And I'm the one with the spear. Shoot me down, I'll take you out with me. Pretty sure my allies can deal with your little friend."
Marshall laughed nervously. When Vallah looked at him, raising an eyebrow, he nodded and tried to smother more natural confidence over his fear. He was that guy, after all. The guy that could sell himself to anyone, at the best price.
"I don't think you're quite so adept with a weapon as I am," Belarius tilted the bow up just a tad, almost as if to highlight his point. "Lower your weapon and listen to what we have to say."
"And you kill us afterwards?"
He shook his head. Acacia saw Ivo, over her shoulder, creep a little closer. She gripped onto the knife that she usually kept by her hip. A Career against a girl from District Twelve. They were impossible odds. But she'd always liked a little bit of risk. This was just a slice of competition she knew she couldn't win.
Carson placed a hand on Vallah's elbow, turning her body so they were facing one another. "Hear him out."
"Smart." Belarius nodded and gestured to the heaps of furniture. "We're laying out a network of obstacles so we can herd the Careers to a point of our choosing. Then, well, you can probably guess what we want to do."
"Kill them," Marshall said, louder than he intended.
"Indeed." Ivo walked round the group and stood by Belarius' side, letting the boy from Two continue speaking.
"This is a one time offer. The four of you turn back the way you came and find another part of the Arena to sneak about. Leave us to finish this and the four strongest competitors – outside us, of course – will be taken out making your lives a lot easier."
It sounded too good to be true. Belarius just had to release the arrow and Vallah would be dead. She knew her spear wouldn't reach him in time. She was bluffing to try to protect herself and her allies. But there was something genuine about the way they held themselves. Something similar to what she'd seen in Carson that had made him so endearing those few days ago back in training.
Acacia knew this was the best idea. She was terrified of fighting. Now with the idea of not having to do that, especially against two Careers, they had to make the right decision and turn back.
Before she could voice this, Vallah nodded, lowering her spear. "Deal. If we cross paths again, I'm guessing you won't be so lenient?"
Belarius nodded. "As I said, one time offer. I'm happy you're seeing the benefit of our little arrangement. Ivo and I will kill them for us all, and then it's a fair fight from that point on."
"Not really fair," Marshall muttered, under his breath. They'd trained. It was pretty much the opposite of fair. Still, when they turned to walk away, he joined them and kept a cautious eye over his shoulder until they'd disappeared from view.
Vallah sighed and almost fell to the ground. "I guess we go this way then."
Or we go back to our lovely little house. Marshall kept his mouth shut.
They had to do something, not nothing.
Even he knew the dangers of becoming boring.
So, onwards they went. Into the something, away from the nothing.
Action would always be the best decision any tribute had to make.
They had to take control over their lives.
They had to be tributes.
Giant fucking rats.
It had to be rats, didn't it? Ryon visualized massive cute little hamsters, or rabbits, or anything else that wasn't a rat. Piglets, kittens and puppy dogs. Anything but disgusting rats.
Then again, any version of a giant animal could probably still chew his face off.
He was underground. Sewers, maybe. Or some kind of tunnel system that he'd worked out was based a few feet from the surface. The rats were behind him, gnawing their way towards his lovely, succulent flesh. Ryon had broken free from hysterical fear to an inner, pained, but silent outlook on the shit that he'd gone through so far.
He continued to run, ducking under beams of wood in the way, pipes that were rusted and jagged. He spared a thought of how much damage he could do with one against the mutts, but heard the splashing behind him and sped up.
Up ahead, quite literally, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Not the kind of light he'd grown up with, but the red coating that had become part of his new, Hunger Games-y life. He looked over his shoulder, the first, monstrous vermin rounding the corner, and bolted for a ladder that was rooted in the ground, leading upwards.
"See you later," he looked down at the first rat, scrambling against the bottom of the ladder. Something told him they probably could pursue and climb if they wanted to, but the Gamemakers were keeping them at bay. Yeah, thanks for the help.
His new location, when he took a second to focus on what he'd ascended into, was one of the village houses. Normally, he might have turned a nose at the state it was in. Something he was used to growing up where he did. But compared to the forest, this was practically a three-storey mansion. Don't get too happy. Not when you know what's coming for-
"Oh."
Three pairs of eyes stared at him from the corner of the house. Ryon looked at the knife in his hand, then at the trio before him, and nearly burst out laughing. Just my fucking luck… He was starting to think that death might be easier.
"Hi." He focused on the girl that had spoken. She had flaming, messy red hair that fell, tousled down her shoulders. Ah, District Three. Cillian, Rell and Eveny.
"Hello." He saw the door, central to the house. He was on this side. They were on that side. Underneath his feet, the trapdoor that descended into the sewers and led to the forest made him step forwards an inch or two. Far too many memories back there.
Dante…
"I-"
They looked far too friendly. He had no idea what to say. Maybe if they were somewhere else, he'd have mocked them for their closeness. He'd never understood tributes that cherished loyalty over their own survival. That was before Dante. Now he realised all too well why that was a thing.
"You're Ryon," the fire-head spoke, attempting a smile. It did nothing for his nerves. "We're-"
"Yeah," Ryon interrupted. "Yeah, I know who you are."
He'd left Varity to die. He'd failed to protect Dante for a second time.
These were just tributes before him. They had to mean absolutely nothing, otherwise Ryon feared for his crumbling sanity.
He moved for the door. The boy from Three almost said something, but Eveny and Rell shook their heads. "Good luck out there."
Ryon took another step, then paused, spending a second to look back at them, huddled together, like the best of friends. They were naïve. They hadn't lost anything. Two days in, and he had. Two days in, and they were still in that Capitol state of mind. Where everything was alright and couldn't go wrong.
At least he could help them in his own way.
Prolong the inevitable.
"Something's coming for the village." He said, the fear cutting deep, the sensation of ice-cold water sluicing down his spine. "Too many… too many people. People probably isn't the right word. But they've got weapons. They'll be here soon. Stay away from the other side of the buildings. Don't camp out anywhere too long. Just… watch where you go."
He left before they could reply. He'd done something for them. Now he could focus on himself.
Dante's face appeared across the moon an hour or so later. He bowed his head, spent a moment locked in grief, and tried to move on in memory of his fallen allies. That was the best course of action. Fight for them.
He'd never fought for himself, let alone someone else.
Now, everything was different.
Ryon was growing up.
Dante Madsen, District Eight Male.
Sarah. Was Dante universally liked? No, he wasn't. But I think, or at least hope, people appreciated his character for what he was. I, personally, couldn't get enough of him. He was angry and rightfully so. Sure, he wasn't exactly the nicest person around, but he was fighting for himself and his life and I respected that. He had a charming side, as well. A friendly aspect that sometimes fought for focus against the temper at his core. Ryon and Dante, for as short a time as they appeared in the Games together, were a joy to write. The fight had to result in at least one death, though, and sadly I opted for him. I'm sorry to see him go!
The first post-bloodbath death!
As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think this might have become my favourite Games I've written. The format is just a load of fun.
I should probably quickly mention that these scenes will not, as you've probably worked out, be the same length. Word count depends on what's going on and whether I have more to say. Also, since I'm not writing in POVs, I can be more open with who I give these scenes to. If there's something going on, a tribute will appear a little bit more. Like Ryon, he had two this chapter because he had more going on that needed to be shown. It'll balance out eventually, every tribute will get attention, it just works out depending on what they're doing.
Thanks for reading :)
(Oh and I hope these 6,000-7,000 word chapters aren't a pain. I can't tell how much you guys like to read at one go. Sorry if it's a bit much.)