A/N: Another late chapter, sorry. And kind of a short one. It was going to be longer, but I realized that the next section will be better as its own chapter—but it's half written already, so at least there's that. Also, I'm starting another story that I need tributes for, so if y'all could check out "The Fourth Quarter Quell: Cage Match," review, and submit a tribute or two (by PM only, please), I'd really appreciate it! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – ROCK-A-BYE BABY

Quartz Contour, 17, D12. 8:00 p.m.

When I hear the first strains of the Capitol anthem, I duck out of my hiding place in the underbrush to watch the sky. Only one death today, the same conclusion I'd reached by listening for cannons, but I wanted to know who it was. District 11, Jasmine. Too bad, I guess. She seemed nice enough, but nice doesn't win the Hunger Games. Courage, skill, and a lot of luck does. And a willingness to get your hands dirty never hurts.

As I'm turning away from the seal broadcast in the sky, ready to return to my hole in the ground, I hear a muffled sob. I pause. Do I want to investigate this? It could be a trap. It almost certainly is a trap. I should probably just go back to my hiding place, which has kept me safe for two days. On the other hand, two days of doing nothing has to be boring for the Gamemakers and audience. Something interesting must have been going on today, otherwise they would have introduced me to danger already. Even if the sobbing I hear is a trap, ignoring it will only bring on a new, possibly worse trap later on. Yes, perhaps cautiously investigating is my best option.

Slowly, quietly, I return to my hiding place, pick up the meager supplies I've acquired, and head deeper into the woods. I circle the sobbing, trying to find a good location to spy on the source of the sound. Careful is the name of the game here. I climb a tree agonizingly slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Weaponless, surprise may be my one advantage.

Once I find a limb with a good view and height advantage, I creep along it, peering down. In the clearing below sits a girl covered in blood, crying as she tries to get an arrow out of her arm. With a start of alarm, I realize she's a Career—the girl from 2—and start to try to form a plan to get away from her. But after a second of reflection I realize that even if she was once a Career, it seems unlikely that she still is. She's alone, injured, and her alliance is nowhere to be found. Probably not a threat.

This changes my options significantly and I pause to review them. I could leave, help, or kill. If Leaving would be almost the same as killing, as the girl has her guard completely down. I could kill her, of course, but I have no weapons, and even a lone, injured Career is still a Career. Or I could help her. This would have the advantage of giving me an ally—a trained ally, to boot—and being interesting to the audience, meaning that I might have a moment of two of peace. She might turn on me, of course, but even I'm getting tired of hiding.

My mind made up to take the road more interesting, if more stupid, I skin down the tree to approach the ex-Career.

Joe Hendrix, 29, D8. 10:00 p.m.

Tally fusses in my arms, and I try to calm her. We have to stay quiet. Below us, two Careers are crashing through the brush. But Tally is hungry, cold, tired, and won't cooperate with me. I've known this moment was coming—how could it not?—but it doesn't make it any easier. Luckily, I've spent the my time in the arena preparing for this. As the Careers look up, their eyes glinting with excitement as they see me and Tally in the tree.

Carefully, I take aim and start throwing my missiles into their upturned faces. I've spent most of today collected rocks and sharp pebbles, and using them to whittle twigs into darts. I'm hoping that if I put up enough of a fight, and stay out of sword range, maybe they will leave me alone as too much trouble. It is the best strategy I could come up with, without Michael and his supplies and weapons.

Unfortunately, my plan wasn't working. The little girl from 4, Rosemary, reaches behind her and pulls out a bow and my heart sinks. As she pulls back, taking careful aim, I try to scoot farther and farther back in the tree, to make a harder target. Tally begins to wail. I hold her, rocking, trying to soothe her, quiet her, and continue to get away from the arrow nocked against Rosemary's bow. Not good, this is not good.

That's when I hear a crashing in the underbrush and my long lost ally Michael bursts out of the trees.

And also when Rosemary releases the arrow. It buries itself in my calf and I lose my balance and fall out of the tree.

Michael Winchalski, 52, D8. 10:00 p.m.

I've been trying to find Joe and Tally for two days, since we got out of the bloodbath. And I finally found them. Too late. I must have been circling them for ages, but it was only once Tally started yelling that I was able to track them down, just in time to see Joe fall out of the tree. Luckily he didn't fall far, but I could see the panic in his eyes. I did my part by advancing on the girl with the bow and arrow. She backed off, but smiled and pulled out her own small sword. I went into attack mode, as much as it hurt me to fight with such a tiny child. Still, I've seen her in action, what she did to that poor girl from 12, so my conscience doesn't do more than twinge. My job is to protect Joe and Tally.

As Rosemary engages with me, I can see Joe frantically trying to climb back up the tree to get to Tally, but the big District 2 boy keeps grabbing his legs and pulling him back down. I have to finish this girl off quickly or Joe's going to be in trouble. Lucky that the Career seems to enjoy playing with his prey.

With a lunge, I knock Rosemary's sword out of her hand and use the pommel of my sword to knock her out. Even knowing how bloodthirsty she is, I can't bear to kill her.

But I'm not fast enough. The Career has hold of Joe and is pulling him away from the tree. Suddenly, just a few yards from the tree, the metal collar around Joe's neck—which I hadn't noticed before—began to beep.

"No!" Joe yelled, flailing, trying to crawl back to his tree and his daughter. "You have to let me go! The collar will—"

But Julius just laughs harder as he drags Joe. Suddenly, with a giant flash, the collar explodes. Julius stands, stunned, covered in blood. There is no cannon, but I don't wait for the implications to sink in—I run toward the tree, take a running leap onto the lowest branch, and clamber up to where Tally lays, still crying. I grab her up, and, one handed, make my descent. Rosemary is still out cold and Julius, clearly not the brightest tribute in the arena, still stands shocked and bloody. Carrying my precious bundle, I run back into the surrounding forest, heading for an area of thicker trees.

There's still no cannon, and slowly I realize that the Gamemakers don't think Joe counts as a death. He was only a guardian, not a tribute. Saddened, I shake my head. I will make sure Tally wins these Games, and knows what her dad did for her. This is the most important thing I could do with my life.