The countdown has begun. Two chapters to the finale.
"Just like that, there are three tributes left in the arena. And I am one of them." –Alder Zane
Chapter 29
Boom! I wake to the sound of a cannon blast. Just like that, there are three tributes left in the arena. And I am one of them.
By hearing the cannon, I know one of three things has happened. Emerald has died from her wounds, one of the remaining tributes has been poisoned, or something completely different happened and resulted in a death. I guess I'll never know how it happened. I have to wait until tonight to find out who died, though. Or rather, to find out who's still alive.
The most likely cause for the cannon was the poison, of course. The way Augustus had put it, I couldn't imagine the deadly food would take this long to take effect. So I deem the rest of my supply safe, and eat breakfast.
It's delicious but very rich, hard to choke down when I've been living off stale crackers, beef jerky and rabbit for the past few weeks. I eat a little at a time, to make sure it stays down.
Something silver glints in the corner of my eye, and I whirl around, expecting a knife. But it's not. It's…Is that a parachute? My jaw drops in utter disbelief. The silver sponsor gift gets tangled in a tree. After a moment more of I climb up as quickly as I can to free it from the branches. When I get back down, I don't even open it, staring in awe at the palm-sized package in my hand. I have sponsors. I have sponsors! I smile broadly for the first time in days, and tear open the paper.
It's a small metal canister. I unscrew the top and find a sort of salve inside. What is this? I scoop out a little and rub it between my fingers. Probably some type of medicine. For where Prime cut me? I unwrap the bandage and examine the loose, uneven stitches. They aren't quite doing the job on their own. I carefully apply a layer of salve and rewrap the bandages. That should do it.
I stash the medicine in my backpack and stand up. A walk would probably do me good, especially after my breakfast of rich Capitol food. I have no need to hunt, but I keep my knife on hand, just in case.
I walk for hours, it seems, without a change of scenery. Same pine trees, same hard-packed dirt, same cloudy sky. Then, all of a sudden, I find myself in a completely unfamiliar setting. I walk out of the trees and notice that there's grass, rather than soil and pine needles, under my feet. And there are a few types of wildflowers, too, growing in scattered patches. Only then do I see the mountain ahead of me.
It isn't a natural mountain. Enormous shards of rock pile on top of each other, forming a giant heap of slate. Sparse trees and grasses grow up from in between the rocks.
Suddenly, there's a deafening crash from the top of the pile, a sound like thunder. I squint, trying to see what's going on. To my horror, an avalanche of rocks has started to tumble down the side, followed by a cloud of dust. I stumble backwards. About three quarters of the way down the mountain, the rockslide loses energy, and comes do a stop with a sickening scraping noise.
What had happened? If the Gamemakers were trying to kill me, the rockslide would have reached the bottom. Or, more likely, they would have waited until I had gotten closer. My cannon would have gone off by now. It's not until I hear a cry of pain that I realize this rockslide wasn't for me.
I start up the side of the mountain, towards the cloud of dust floating where the rockslide halted. I grip the handle of my knife tightly. There are three tributes left. This needs to end soon. When the dust clears, I see another boy, about the same size as Cedar. I can barely identify him; his face is covered in blood. At first, I think I've found Prime. In horrible shape, too. Nearly half his body is pinned under a rock larger than he is. As I get closer, though, I recognize him as a different tribute. This is the boy from District 5. He sees me.
"Help," he gasps. But I know there's nothing in this world I can do for him. But I can't walk away. From living in District 12, I know that no one deserves to die buried in a pile of rocks. I take a step towards him and get ready to push the piece of slate. The boy's expression twists in pain.
"No!" he shakes his head, "Get my pack." He reaches out with his arm to point, and I see two dusty feast backpacks on the ground, a few yards away. Two. A full green one, and a half-empty black one. The boy from 5 didn't leave the feast, after all. He'd taken another pack and broken the only rule of the game within the Games.
"The black one," says the boy. AZ12. I pick it up and open the top. Most of the food has already been eaten. It looks like my pack was safe, too. I turn back to the boy from 5.
"The water bottle," he chokes out. The color is draining from his face. I dig through the pack quickly until I find a metal canteen. It's light; there isn't much inside. I hand it to the boy anyway. The least I can do is give him a drink of water. The boy from 5 unscrews the cap, hands shaking badly. After a moment, he looks back at me.
"Are you going to win this, Twelve?" I don't know how to answer. The boy grimaces. His expression becomes determined. When he speaks again, it's an order.
"You go to Five, tell my brother I tried hard to come back home." The worst part of this conversation is that there's nothing I can do to help him now; nothing I can do but nod. The boy holds the water bottle to his lips and takes a drink. A cannon sounds immediately, and the canteen slips from his hands. The liquid spills across the stone, and it's not water. It's stained a horrible green color, and mixed with crushed bits of plants. I stare in horror at the dead boy. He poisoned himself. I take a step backwards, nearly tripping on the other rocks. And then I'm running again.
Because there are only two of us left.
With luck, I will post the final filler and conclusion of the Games later today! :)
