I can see her clearly now: the glimmer of blades fastened to her jacket, the grimace of concentration on her face, the bandages wrapped around her Tracker Jacker stings. There's a hunger evident in her expression – not from a lack of food; but from a hunger to kill.
As I spent my days in the Training Center pretending to slip from monkey bars and feigning struggle on the rock wall; I kept my eyes trained on the other Tributes, and it didn't take long to discover that Clove was different.While the other Careers spent their time sneering at others or making intimidating displays of their physical prowess; Clove kept to herself at the knives station, destroying target after target even when it was obvious she could never miss. While Marvel made jokes and Glimmer flirted and Cato bullied, she focused on refining her lethality. Of all the Tributes, I fear her the most. This is one person I can never outsmart or outrun. Right now, I can only hope her sense of smell isn't good, since the scent of iodine still clings onto my wounds.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
With every step she takes closer to me, my heart throbs louder and louder – until I'm starting to question if it's audible outside my den. From the way she's swiveling her head around, Clove's looking out for Tributes. She's dying to kill someone today. My breath catches in my throat as I see her tip her nose into the air and sniff. Her eyes begin wandering the forest floor, barely fleeting past mine, and she stops to think. Something has caught her attention.
She crouches and begins running her fingers through the leaves. I covered my tracks to the best of my ability last night, kicking up leaves to conceal my footsteps as I made my way back. But was it enough? There's a gritty determination in her face as she ponders the patterns on the ground. I can hear her breathing, slow and steady as she digs around in the earth with her knife. But eventually she relaxes and starts walking away from me. And that's when she stubs her toe on something and stops dead in her tracks.
I let out an audible gasp as the clunk reaches my ears. She's found Marvel's spear. I buried it haphazardly in the leaves for quick access, thinking that no one would be coming through this part of the woods. But now she's found it. She lifts the spear from the ground and a frown appears on her face. Her head sweeps from side to side before she leaps out of view.
The realization of being trapped hits me like a million volts of electricity. I jam a palm over my mouth to prevent myself from hyperventilating. She's close, I can hear her rapid breathing emanating from behind the tree trunk. I clutch the seams of my pants and screw my eyes shut to prevent a panic attack from wrecking my nerves. My skin has gone cold despite being huddled up in a sleeping bag and my heart is now really audible outside my chest. A shudder resonates through my body as I hear a loud crunch. I open my eyes to the glimpse of a spear shaft barely inches away from my face where Clove had thrust it into the ground.
"I can see you," her voice shatters the silence, turning my blood to ice.
She's behind the tree, and running from my den will undoubtedly get me a knife in the back. How on earth can she see me? The shuddering in my hands provide no answer, and I remain frozen against the earth. In the tense silence, the thud of sweat dripping from my chin onto the soil sounds like a cannon going off.
"Stop hiding and come out," she whispers.
I jam my body against the ground, waiting to see if she'll appear at the mouth of my den. No one does. But just in case, I gingerly ease my sweat-soaked fingers from my pockets and wrap them around the handle of my Machete, although it's unlikely I'll survive two seconds in a fight with her.
"Clove!" a male voice pierces through the air.
She gasps, and leaps from behind the tree into view. Cato appears, and for a moment they stare each other down, grasping their respective weapons. If it wasn't for the identical "2" labelled on their jackets, anyone spectating would have assumed they were going to fight it out on the spot.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he chides, "I told you not to wander too far from camp."
I duck my face into the soil as she marches over to the entrance of my den and yanks out Marvel's spear, sending flecks of dirt into my hair.
"One of Marvel's," she says, holding up the spear, "he wasn't in this part of the woods yesterday."
"Which means…?"
"Someone stole it from him, and she's hiding nearby. I can smell her blood."
"What makes you think it's a girl?"
"Because Thresh is too far away and Peeta's too injured to do something like this." she says, rolling her eyes, "that is, if you did hurt him badly enough."
"You think Fire-girl did it?"
"No," she says, examining the spear, "Fire-bitch took Glimmer's bow, so we would've heard the cannon if she saw him. It's either 5 or 11."
Cato looks down at his feet. From the shame on his face, he probably hasn't told her how Rue and I managed to outwit him after the Tracker Jacker incident.
"He looked pretty banged up last night," he says, digging at the leaves with his sword.
"Puzzling, 5 or 11 don't look like they're capable of hurting him."
"Let's go back, it's almost time for lunch."
Cato leaves and Clove hesitates to follow him. To my surprise, she returns the spear to the exact same spot where I buried it; taking care to cover it with leaves. Immediately, the possibilities race through my mind. Perhaps she doesn't want me to know she was here, or Marvel lied about his injuries and she doesn't want him to know that she knows. Whatever her reason, she thought about it carefully and carried out her actions with great deliberation, even taking the trouble to wipe the soil from its tip so it would look exactly like it was when she found it.
Clove stands a foot away from my face, her eyes filled with indignation as she looks around one last time before marching off after Cato.
It appears I've finally met my match.