"This weather blows," Chester sighed. The snow was at mid-thigh level, and walking through it was like walking through molasses. His legs were utterly numb with cold. He wondered if the snow would just go on until the end of the Games. May the tallest tribute win.
Willow made a small noise of agreement, her energy focused on picking her way through the snow. Chester had told her countless times to follow behind him, but she was insistent on plowing her own path beside his. They had spent another day heading towards the mountains. Whatever beast had terrorized them when the darkness began to fall clearly wasn't fond of the daylight. They resolved to hunker down while it was still light out to avoid getting attacked.
"You'd think that they'd have learned after the one year where most of the tributes froze to death. It's not interesting. The Capitol is probably bored to tears. I mean, at least we had more supplies than the last time, but seriously, it's cold. It's super cold. Like, I didn't even know it was possible to get this cold in nature. They have to be like, engineering the air to be this cold. I can't imagine why they would be, but that's the only explanation, and it's stupid. Of course, they must have something exciting planned. Otherwise this Arena is basically exactly the same as the old one. Granted, that was nearly two hundred years ago, but honestly, technology is always evolving. They should have been able to come up with something cooler. Haha. Cooler. Oh man, this weather is getting to me."
"Chester."
"How many tributes have died already? Fifteen? So that's six in the bloodbath, and then we know that Apollo ate the poisonous berries, and that leaves eight deaths that we don't know about. My guess is most of them are from the cold. Oh, well there was the noise we heard earlier today. That felt like an earthquake. I guess that could have been what killed the tribute that the cannon fired for. But, still. That's seven deaths that were probably just because it's colder than humanely possible."
"Chester."
"And furthermore—"
"You're pretty unobservant for the smart one," Willow said teasingly.
"What?" he asked, looking over his shoulder and giving Willow a confused look. She giggled and pointed at the sky. Chester looked up, squinting for a moment against the sunlight. He blinked a couple times before it hit him. Sunlight. "Do you think they heard me?" he asked, slightly worried. "Oh god, they must hate me. I insulted the system. Oh god. Oh god, Willow, I'm so sorry."
"Calm down, Ches," Willow said. "Like you said, there has to be a twist to this Arena, otherwise it'd just be a repeat. This must be the calm before the storm."
He took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right. It must be a coincidence. The only remaining question, then, is…what's the storm?"
Willow chewed on her lip, looking at Chester anxiously. "Only one more tribute has to die before the final eight," she said quietly. "So they must have something big planned."
"Okay," Chester said, weighing the situation quickly in his head. "So we just need to stay alive. The both of us. And then whatever they have to throw at us, we'll face it together. Okay?"
Willow looked at the ground. She was trembling slightly, but Chester wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from fear, or possibly from something else. "Okay," she murmured. Chester lifted her chin slightly so that she raised her eyes and looked at him. He gave her a reassuring smile, which she attempted to return.
"I'm here for you, okay?" he asked softly. "We're in this together." She nodded meekly. "And, on the bright side," Chester continued, "it stopped snowing!" This coaxed a smile out of her. "We're not going to be up to our eyeballs in this stuff. Maybe some of it will melt! Well, no, it probably won't. I don't think even the sunlight could melt this stuff at this temperature. But hey, we can have hope. At least our tracks won't get covered up, so if we need to go back, we can actually walk normally!"
"You have this incredible knack for cheering me up," Willow told him.
"It's part of my charm," he said nonchalantly, brushing off his shoulder. He looked up and caught Willow's eyes for a second before they both burst out laughing. Chester placed a hand on her waist and kissed her lightly. He could feel her smile, which made him smile, and they dissolved into another fit of giggles.
"We should probably keep going," Willow said when they had both calmed down. "To…wherever we're going."
Chester nodded. He adjusted his pack, lifting the straps up for a second because they were digging into his shoulders. The snow reflected the sunlight and hurt his eyes, so he raised a hand and shielded his face before continuing to walk through the woods.
Up ahead there was a wide thicket of brambles. Some of the snow had accumulated on top of the six-foot tall bushes, creating a thick layer of white on top. "Should we go through?" Chester asked, turning his neck to look down to the ends of the massive patch of underbrush. "There may not even be a way around."
With a shrug, Willow said, "We may as well just go through."
As they approached, Chester saw a flash of red through the snowy branches. His only thought was to protect Willow. He quickly drew his knife. The red appeared again. He took aim and threw his dagger, just like he had learned during training. The weapon seemed to fly in slow motion. Chester expected to hit a fox or some kind of muttation. He was protecting Willow. That was all he needed to know.
He was completely caught off guard by the scream.
It was high-pitched and feminine, splitting through the air and hurting Chester's ear drums. His heart began to beat in his chest and he panicked, running forward and pushing apart the dead leaves and the snow and the branches. A meter or so in he found Tessa writhing on her back, a dagger, his dagger, lodged in her stomach.
"Oh god," he breathed. Tessa cried out again and he felt the blood drain from his face. "What have I done?" he asked quietly. Louder, he said, "Tessa, we're going to help you, okay? We're going to do our best to save you."
I can't have another death on my hands.
I just can't.
He grabbed one of the District 11 girl's legs and moved slightly aside so Willow could grab the other. Together, they dragged the tall red-head out of the thicket and into the open. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was gasping from the pain. She had one hand clutched around the hilt of the dagger. Chester didn't think he was able to throw that hard, but he supposed it had been fairly close range.
"Listen to me, okay, Tessa?" he said, kneeling down beside her. "I'm going to pull out the dagger. Okay? It's going to hurt, but it's the only way that we can try and take care of the wound."
And I'm praying to any higher power out there that it's not too bad.
Gently, he pried Tessa's bloody fingers from the knife and wrapped his hand around the metal handle. Willow placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He placed a hand on Tessa's stomach and she winced. Tears leaked from her closed eyes. With a deep breath, he pulled hard.
Tessa shrieked and opened her eyes. Chester stared down at the blade of the knife. It was dripping dark red blood, and pierced on the end was a piece of what Chester assumed to be Tessa's intestines, though he'd never been much of a scholar on human organs. He heard Willow gag behind him. The hole in Tessa's chest wasn't very big, but it was bleeding like crazy, and there was no way she'd survive without serious medical attention.
Chester dropped the knife beside him, sitting back on his heels. So that was it. Tessa was going to die any minute.
"I'm so sorry," was all he could think to say. "I didn't know it was you. I thought it was an animal, and…and I just wanted to protect Willow. I'm so sorry."
Her voice was very soft when she spoke. "It's…not your fault. I would have done…the same…At least now I can tell him…I love him…I hope."
Of course. Thane had died the previous day. Chester could remember seeing them together before the Games started. He could understand Tessa's point of view. If Willow had died, he wouldn't mind death. Winning would be tainted by his loss. Something about his relationship with Willow felt very real. The emotions in the Arena seemed magnified ten times more than anything else he had ever felt.
Slowly, Tessa's breathing became more and more shallow. Eventually, the cannon fired.
"So that's it," Chester said quietly. "It's over. I killed her."
"Ches, it wasn't your fau—"
"Don't start, Willow. I killed her. I threw the knife that caused her death. I killed her. I tore out the knife and ripped out her intestines, wounding her beyond repair. I killed her, Willow. I'm a killer."
"There's no way to win the Games without killing someone. That's the whole point of it."
"I…I was hoping I'd be different. I don't know. I've killed two people."
"You didn't kill Ash."
"I basically did! I shoved him right into the sword. He could have gotten away if it wasn't for me. And now Tessa. I'm a murderer, Willow. Even if I make it out alive, I'll be a murderer. On the Victory Tour I'll have to face their families. They'll hate me." He glanced down at the knife. "Maybe I should just kill myself."
Willow snatched up the knife, holding it behind her back. "No. No, I won't let you. Chester, you're a lovely person. The families of Ash and Tessa were watching. They'll miss their children, of course, but they know that what you did wasn't intentional. You did what you had to do. That's it. That's what happens here. That's what the Capitol wants. It's not your fault you couldn't break away from the norm."
"Give me the knife."
"No."
Chester seemed to deflate into the snow. "Then you kill me."
"You are not going to die, Chester. Not by your own hand. You are going to try your hardest to win the Games and I am going to stay by your side to the best of my ability. You've been there for me through all of this, and I'm going to be there for you, okay? We're in the final eight, Ches. We can do this. A third of the tributes are gone, and we have a chance at victory. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Now get up. A storm is coming."
