Chapter 25: Fighters

I wake up before the sun rises. I'm sweaty and burning up. Immediately, I sit up and remove my jacket. I unzip the tent flap to stick my head out. There is a good breeze blowing, but the air is warm. I leave the flap open and lay back down, letting the wind cool down the tent. It feels pleasant right now, but it will be sweltering by midday. I decide that today's a good day for a bath.

When the sun begins to rise, Logan stirs. When he opens his eyes, he sits up and takes off his jacket. He peers out ofwswq the tent into the dim morning.

"What's that?" he says.

I look around until I spot the source of Logan's question.

"It looks like...a box," I say.

The two of us grab our weapons and creep toward the mysterious box. When we reach it, Logan gives it a quick nudge with his foot. I punch him in the arm.

"What if it was a bomb?" I say. "You would've killed us!"

Logan snickers. "A bomb?"

I give him an angry look and kneel down to get a better look. The box is green on one side and gray on the other. I run my hand along the top, wondering if I should open it. Logan bends down beside me and stares at the box curiously.

"What do you think it is?" I ask.

"I think..." Logan begins, "Maybe it's a sponsor gift."

I consider his answer. It seems plausible. The box has our states' colors. I just can't imagine that I would be getting a gift. I can't believe I still have sponsors after my many near-death experiences.

I remove the lid of the box.

Inside are two thick blankets.

I wipe sweat from my brow. "Blankets? Really?"

Logan laughs. "We'll take what we can get."

We gather the blankets and try to stuff them in my backpack. They add a lot of weight and they barely fit, but it doesn't bother me. Logan and I take down the tent and place it in Logan's pack.

"Do you want to try hunting again today?" Logan asks.

"I was thinking that I'd like to go to the stream and wash off a little," I say. "You can hunt if you want. I think I can find my way to the stream and back."

"No," Logan says immediately. "I need a bath too."

I glance at his messy hair filled with leaves and twigs. His hands are bloody from skinning the squirrel yesterday. Dirt stains his face and he has a minor cut on his arm that has obviously never been cleaned. I wonder how much worse I must look. I put a hand up to feel my hair and cringe. There are tufts sticking out everywhere. I pull a few leaves out before I give up.

I really can't believe I still have sponsors.

We reach the stream in no time, and Logan looks happier than I've ever seen him. He smiles widely at the water, and holds his arms out to feel the breeze.

I find myself smiling at his happiness. The smile feels odd, as if I haven't used these muscles in a long time. I guess I haven't. This is the first time I've smiled since I entered the arena.

Logan looks up at the sky. "We better hurry," he says. "It looks like we're going to get some rain today."

I glance at the clouds above us. It does look like a storm is brewing. I wonder why this doesn't put a damper on Logan's mood. I turn back to him, preparing to ask if we should reschedule our bath, but he's already removed his shirt.

I gasp and look away.

I don't know why I'm embarrassed. It's not like I've never seen a man before. I've just never seen a man who is quite so...breathtaking. It's obvious that Logan spends considerable time working on his physique. I hear him splashing into the water, and I remember why he's so happy about this.

He's a swimmer. A darn good one if I recall correctly. I look at the stream, and I watch Logan move to the deepest area he can find. He moves like a fish, darting from side to side. He goes underwater for so long that I start to worry, but he pops up with a grin before I can remove my boots.

"Come on, Corenn!" He calls.

I look awkwardly at my feet. I can see Logan's clothes sitting beside me. It appears that he is swimming in only his underwear. I'm not comfortable looking at him half naked, much less stripping down myself.

"I'll just keep watch till you're done," I say.

Logan doesn't acknowledge me. He's too busy enjoying himself. I sit down and pull off my backpack. I put it beside Logan's, and I fold his clothes up so we can easily gather them if we're attacked. When I fold his jacket, a puff of dusty air rises out of it. I wonder if my clothes are as filthy as his. I look up at the sky, hoping that we have plenty of time before the rain begins.

I take Logan's clothes to the water and wash them the best I can. I dip and scrub his shirt, pants, and socks until the water I squeeze out of them is clean. I decide not to wash the jacket. It would probably take days to dry. I wring out the clothes and hang them over a tree branch. I take off my socks, rinse them, and place them to dry beside Logan's, then I retrieve my water jug and fill it up.

I take it back to my backpack, watching the breeze blow Logan's clothes. Soon, I notice that Logan is making his way to the edge of the water. When he steps out, he looks clean and gorgeous again. I can tell that he has lost a bit of weight, but his muscles are still toned and defined. I stare at him until he plops down beside me, refreshed and dripping.

"Your turn," he says. He picks up his bow and lays it across his lap while he lounges against a tree.

Obviously I didn't think this through. If I would've just gotten in the water while Logan was swimming, I wouldn't be subject to the humiliation of stripping in front of him. I hesitate, looking between Logan and the water.

"Oh, come on," Logan says. "Surely you aren't that modest."

I frown at him. "Shut up."

Logan tries not to smile. He purposefully looks down, pretending to adjust his bow. I still catch him glancing up every few seconds, though.

"How about this?" Logan says. "You wade into the water with your clothes on, and when you get in far enough, take them off and throw them to me. I'll wash them and hang them up for you."

I sigh gratefully. "Thank you."

Logan grins.

I make my way into the water. It's still extremely cold, but the warmth of the day makes it bearable. I wade until the water is above my waist, then I remove my pants. I throw them to Logan, who begins rinsing them. Once the water is above my chest, I am shivering. I peel off my shirt and toss it to Logan. I try to flutter around in the water like Logan did, but the current is strong enough that I can barely keep my footing. I bend my head back, wetting my hair and running my fingers through it. I scrub my scalp and tug at my hair until I declare it as clean as it can get. I run my hands over the rest of my body, wishing for some soap.

When I'm ready to head out of the water, I see that Logan is still undressed and sitting on the ground. I'm not sure what to do now. I obviously can't get dressed until I'm dry, so I'll have to step out of the water in just my bra and underwear. I want to tell Logan not to look, but I know he would just make fun of me. Everyone in America can see me anyway. I'm sure Alanton will force the cameras to focus on me just so I will be extra humiliated. I take a deep breath. Just get it over with, I tell myself.

I stride purposefully out of the water and walk quickly to Logan. He looks up when I get close. I am pleased to see that he keeps his eyes on my face like a gentleman. I sit down beside him, teeth chattering wildly. Logan reaches into my back pack and pulls out one of the blankets. He drapes it over me and tucks the edges around my legs and shoulders.

"Thanks," I say.

I lean against a tree and let the breeze blow my hair. The blanket warms me quickly, and I start to relax. Logan pulls out a can of sardines and shares it with me. I don't normally like sardines, but starvation makes everything taste heavenly. When I'm reaching for my last bite, the blanket slips down to my waist. Logan's eyes widen and he quickly looks away. I hastily jerk the blanket back up, blushing furiously.

"Sorry," Logan says. He doesn't seem embarrassed at all. "You've still got those bruises, huh?"

I am confused for a moment, but then I remember the injuries on my sides. I've gotten so used to the soreness that I mostly ignore it. I didn't even check the bruises while I was bathing. I look under the blanket to see that my sides are now an ugly shade of yellow and brown. They look much better though. I bet my face is completely healed.

"They aren't so bad," I tell Logan. "They're much better than they were."

Logan makes a face. "I should have pulled him off you sooner. I wasn't close enough."

"You did more than anyone else," I say.

I give him a small smile, and he smiles back. I hear a roll of thunder. It sounds close.

"Uh oh," Logan says, glancing at our clothes.

We both jump up, my blanket forgotten. I grab a shirt, but it's still very wet. Logan seems to be thinking the same thing about the pants he's holding. The thunder booms again.

"Bundle the clothes in my blanket!" I yell.

Logan spreads the blanket out and we toss our clothes into the center. Logan makes a quick bundle while I pull my boots on. A few sprinkles of rain start to fall. Logan pulls on his boots and jacket, slinging his backpack on. He picks up his bow and his quiver of arrows. I can't help but laugh.

He looks ridiculous.

"Shut up," he says and tosses my jacket to me.

I put the jacket on and pull up the hood. I grab my backpack, my mace, and the bundle of clothes. Then we run.

The rain gets a little harder when we reach the campsite. Logan tosses all of his things aside and gets to work on the tent. Together, we set it up in record time. We throw everything through the flap and nearly take down the tent in our hurry to escape the rain. By the time I plop down inside, I'm soaked again. But I can't stop giggling. It's been quite a while since I did anything fun. Running in the rain makes me feel like a kid again.

Logan grins at me. His soaking hair sticks up everywhere, and he has dripping water running down his face. "I've never seen you laugh before," he says.

I calm my giggles.

"I used to laugh all the time," I say.

Logan's smile falters a little. "Yeah, me too," he says.

We unwrap our clothes from the bundle and use the blanket to dry ourselves. We spread out the clothes the best we can, which isn't very well. Luckily, our jackets and backpacks repel water so they aren't soaked through.

We aren't crammed into the small space for long before I start to feel awkward. I'm a married woman, and I'm in awfully close quarters with a very handsome almost naked man. Logan seems to ignore the whole situation. He keeps up a constant conversation. He tells me that he used to love to swim in the rain. He tells me that he learned to hunt because he got lost one time on a long distance swim and ended up in the wilderness. He almost starved then. He tells me that he misses his favorite restaurant, and he misses his dog, and he misses his mom.

I listen and take it all in. I used to love talking about my family and friends, but right now it hurts too much. I like listening to Logan's voice. It's deep and soothing. Soon, I forget that we aren't wearing clothes. For a few seconds I even forget where we are, and how dire our situation is.

"What do you miss?" Logan asks. "Besides your family of course."

I pause. I can't think of anything I miss more than my son. I miss the rest of my family too, and Charles. And Elias, Marda, and James. They feel like family too, though.

"I miss pizza," I say finally.

Logan laughs and laughs. I smile at him and chuckle a little myself.

"I miss my toothbrush," he says.

This brings on another giggle fit for both of us. I think we're starting to go a little crazy.

"I miss toilet paper," I say.

We laugh and play our new game for a long time. We discover that there is an endless list of things we miss. As I watch Logan's laughing face, I realize that this can't last. One or both of us will die, and then we'll have something else to miss. As I'm thinking this, a gun fires, making both of us jump. We don't laugh anymore.

I feel a gust of wind entering the tent. It's much cooler than the breeze earlier.

"Wow, it's really cooling off," Logan says.

I stick my arm outside. The temperature is dropping fast. Now I know why Elias and Logan's coach sent us blankets. And we were dumb enough to soak one of them and our clothes. I zip the tent flap and we have a meager dinner of beef jerky and a banana. Soon it is cool enough inside the tent that I curl my knees up and zip them into my jacket. Logan doesn't seem bothered by the cold, but he often looks concerned when the thunder rolls.

At nightfall, Thaddeus announces the deaths for the day. Today he only has to say one name. It is Albert from Alabama. I let out a heavy sigh and Logan runs his hands through his hair.

After a few minutes of silence, Logan looks up at me.

"Did you know him?" He asks. "Albert, I mean."

My eyebrows knot in confusion. "No, not at all. I know he was in our training class."

Logan nods. "Yeah. I watched him sometimes. He was a big guy, so I tried to see what he could do. He could've been a threat, but his heart wasn't in it."

"No one's heart is in this," I scoff. "Except maybe Miller's."

Logan gives me a serious look. "There's a difference between Albert and people like us," he says. "Albert had accepted his fate even back in training. I could see it in his eyes. He gave up before he ever got to the arena."

I consider Logan's words. I feel like I've given up too. I never thought I could win these Games, and I still don't. I'm no different than Albert.

"What's the difference between us and him?" I ask.

"We're fighters, Corenn," Logan tells me. "We won't win, and we won't enjoy killing, but when this is over, no one will ever say we gave up."

I give Logan a small smile. I hope he's right. I hope that's what they say about us when we're gone.

We are fighters.