A/N: Sorry about another late chapter, guys. It's been a busy week. I had a few birthday parties of my cousins', and mine was yesterday. But I'm thinking the updates will get faster once all the hype dies down. (: Sorry.

Enjoy.

Connor's POV (3)

Cheyenne, Krow and Mara woke up the morning after the beetles incident completely hung-over. Cheyenne complained about a headache and dizzy spells. Mara ran into the wall of the cave in the middle of telling us how she couldn't remember anything that went on the night before. And Krow refused to move from his sleeping spot in the very back of the cave, his hands over his eyes, until we all set out in search for food and water.

The sun is just setting after a day of walking through the jungle, eating no more insects and only edible plants that Mara found, which she then laced with some herbs. It was actually really good. A big improvement from whatever the hell I'd shoved down my throat the night before.

Suddenly Cheyenne stops all of us, motions for us to listen. We do. Far in the distance, I can hear somewhat of a roaring noise. Cheyenne is the only one who breaks into a run through the trees, and the rest of us jog behind, Mara still wobbling a little from the beetles.

I can see a bluish light, now, behind the tree tops that goes with the roaring noise. The three of us break through the trees to find Cheyenne standing just on the edge of a cliff, her arms outstretched into the open space like she's trying to feel the air, and an ocean that seems to go on forever stretching in front of us. Mara gasps. Krow's eyes widen. I don't find it all that impressive, though, to be perfectly honest. The sea isn't even blue. Or green. It's grey.

"There could be food down there," Cheyenne says, and bends over to inspect the edge of the cliff. "We can climb down, if we're careful. Besides, it's not that high, and if we fall we'll be landing on the sand." And before any of us can protest Cheyenne is lowering herself off the edge of the cliff and onto a ledge layered with moss. "Just do what I'm doing."

We put our hands and feet in the places Cheyenne does and make it to the ugly-coloured sand without a scratch. Water laps up on my shoes, and I back up into the rock. What if the tide comes in?

Mara puts a finger to her lips and points to the side of the wall. We all frown, and she points her finger again and again until I can hear what she obviously hears: Talking. A male voice, I don't know whose, saying, "Did you hear that?" and then a female's just saying, "Yeah." It could be anyone. If it's the careers, then we're screwed.

Cheyenne breaks into a run along the grey sand, which seems to stretch on forever, curving slightly where we had landed. I'm guessing it goes in a complete circle, around the jungle, and so, even though we're bound to run into whomever was speaking back there, I push my feet forwards. I hear a cannon fire while we're running, our footsteps colliding with water and my feet slowing down in the wet sand, which makes me run harder.

"Stop!" Mara screams in a hush, and sticks her arm out. Krow runs into her, and I run into Krow, and Cheyenne, ahead of us all, stops. "Look."

In the cliff there's a small hole, leading under it. Mara doesn't hesitate; she jumps right in, and slides down the dirt. We all hear a splash, but no screaming, so Krow goes after her, followed by me, and then Cheyenne. At first it's all darkness, and the bottoms of my feet pressing against Krow's back. There's just enough room in the small tunnel for me to reach out my arms to feel dirt—the hill this hole is on is so steep we're all able to just slide down.

And then, finally, my feet are no longer touching Krow's back, but falling into the darkness. And then my entire body is falling, and I hit the water.

Ice cold water. I emerge, gasping for air, but it's still pitch black. "Guys?" I call out, treading water. How deep is this thing?

"Hello?" Mara yells.

Krow says, "Where are you all?"

It's just a chorus of voices until Cheyenne's rings out. "EVERYBODY, PLEASE SHUT UP. All right. Great. Now, follow the sound of my voice." She hums, and I swim towards the tune. I would be the leader here if my voice was just as loud.

I end up touching somebody's head, who turns out to be Mara. The two of us persist with swimming together until we hit Cheyenne and Krow, whose arms seem to be outstretched and searching for us. "There's an opening here." Cheyenne takes my hand and runs it up a cold wall, until my fingers enter a hole just above my head. I wonder if this is what it would be like to be blind. I feel defenseless, shivering in here. "Pull yourself up."

Reaching up with both hands, I pull my body into the hole. I have to crawl through this hole, it's so small, but in the distance I see a light. Far in the distance. I yell this out to the others, who crawl in behind me. This tunnel is also round and small and circular and dirt is everywhere—a bug I can't see makes its way up my hand, which I shake off. When we reach the light, I can see that its bugs that are everywhere—not dirt—and I throw myself through the lighted opening to get away from the nasty things, and am once again submerged in ice cold water.

Three splashes pursue, and I take a look around. We're in a cave, again. We always end up in caves. But there are three tunnels on the other side; each one must lead to somewhere else. I swim over to inspect these tunnels, and I can feel Cheyenne swimming being me, but Krow and Mara stay back where we landed.

"Which one?" I ask.

She contemplates this. "I don't know. None of them. They all probably have some kind of death trap behind it."

I am about to climb up into one of the tunnels, and that's when everything goes wrong.


Keith's POV

Fucking Gamemakers. Putting a poisonous plant out in the middle of the desert. Who the fuck do they think they are? My thighs are burning, I think I'm crying out in pain, but I can't be sure, and I hear Alexander tell the stupid girl I helped him save the cactus is poisonous. I look down at my legs. Blood. All I see is blood. My legs are barely there.

"Jesus," Ariel says. "What an idiot. Why did he hold onto the cactus like that?"

"Shut up, Ariel. We would both be dead right now if it wasn't for him."

I see her scoff and stalk off before I lose my vision. Everything is blurry. My legs are burning. I knew I would get to experience moments like this—I just didn't think I'd be the one injured. The one that the Capitol watches die. Will anyone out there cry for me, I wonder? My parents won't. I wouldn't cry for them, I don't think, unless that meant we'd all go poor. My grandfather—I might cry for—but I doubt that, even. I feel too strong to cry. Especially for a small thing like death.

"Keith?" I hear Alexander say. Someone slaps me in the face. I want to slap them back, but I'm totally numb. My entire body is. "Keith, open your eyes. Don't leave."

"Medicine," I croak out. Where are the mentors when you need them? "Medicine. It hurts."

I hear Alexander sighing in relief, and something being lathered onto my legs. The pain ceases, but my vision doesn't return. I still can't move. And then Alexander swears under his breath and says something about pain reliever, nothing to do with the injury. Which is absolutely retarded. How many sponsors must I have right now? And all my mentor cares to do is send me a fucking pain reliever?

And then everything goes even darker than it was before, if that's possible, since I couldn't see in the first place, and I think I manage to give a smirk at Alexander. "I hope you District Fours get your asses handed to you." Because, c'mon, I was really the best career in this competition. If I don't win, neither should any other career.

And I'm flooded with darkness.


Connor's POV

First, the ceiling breaks. Not all of it, but a bunch of rocks fall into the water between me and Cheyenne and Mara and Krow, separating us in half. Cheyenne swims over instantly, ducking her head under water and looking for an opening in the tall pile of rocks, which are so high they touch the roof, yelling out to the other side and pounding her fists on the rocks.

She gives up, and I just glance at her. "It's no use," I tell her. "Let's pick a tunnel to go through or something. We're not going to survive in here." I don't wait for her response; I start to climb into the far right tunnel when water rushes out to meet me, pushing me back into the ice cold pond. Then it begins coming from the other two tunnels, too, and the water level slowly goes up.

"Shit," Cheyenne says. "Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." She swims around desperately, and I follow pursuit, but without putting much heart into it. We're either getting out of here or we aren't, and if we are, Cheyenne is the one to figure out how. She's swimming under the rising water, now, looking for a crack in the rocks.

"The Gamemakers made it so there's no escape," she says with a long sigh. "Connor, help me. We need to move one of the rocks."

I push off the wall I'm leaning on, blinking, nothing really processing, when one of the tunnels stops giving out water. Both Cheyenne and I turn to the empty channel, but it starts up again immediately. Not thinking it's really much of anything I start to paddle to Cheyenne, but she speeds right past me and leans on the spot of the wall I had just been on. The water stops again; she squeals. "I got it, Connor! Look!" She looks happy, like we've just found a way out alive.

But then it hits her. "Oh. Shit."

The water is at my neck, now, and I swim up with it. "What are we going to do?"

She doesn't reply. She just flicks some water away from her, with her fingers, like this will save the both of us. "I don't know. What do you want to do? Flip a coin?"

"There's no coins here," I remind her in a light tone. Try to brighten the mood. Even a little.

Cheyenne shuts her eyes, and I can see that she's crying. Cheyenne. Crying. "I'll stay back and hold this down. You go, Connor. You deserve to survive."

I give her a look.

Am I going to let her do this? Am I going to let her sacrifice herself for me, while my girlfriend and all of District Three are back home watching it? Am I going to be known as the bad guy, and let a girl who actually has a chance at winning this thing die, for my selfish reason of just wanting to get home? I can't do that. I know I can't do that. Everyone knows I can't do that.

And I know I don't deserve to survive, anyways.

"No," I say, before I allow myself to hesitate. "Cheyenne, you go. Before the water floods the tunnel." She looks at me, her eyes full of tears, but I give her a push. "I said to go. For God's sake, if you don't leave then we're both going to die, all right?" She continues to simply look. "Fuck, if you don't go—"

She shakes her head. "Okay, Connor. I'm going. She hugs me, sniffs into my shoulder, and mumbles a thank you. "I'll win it for you. You don't know how brave this is –"

"Go."

Still shaking her head, Cheyenne swims to the tunnel not sprouting water. It's just reaching the rim of the exit way, and I lean hard on the certain spot on the wall so no water comes from it. I'm not giving myself time to regret this. This is for the best, I tell myself. This is for the best.

"Thank you," she says, before pulling herself up into the hole and crawling off into the dark, until I can't see her and the water is over my head, lifting up my blond hair. But I keep leaning on that one spot. I'm just glad Cheyenne will have a chance of getting out of here.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not glad I'm going to die in here, drown to death, sacrificing myself for my district partner. It looks noble, and everyone is probably looking at their TV screens right now sobbing harder than Cheyenne was. But does that matter, if I will never get to speak to those people again?

I hold my breath as long as I can. Hopefully it's long enough to get Cheyenne out of that tunnel and to safety, because if it isn't then all of this was for nothing.

But then again, I guess I'll never know if it was enough.

I can't stay under here any longer. I breathe out, but that lets water enter my mouth. I try to suck in some air, but there's none, and I get mouthful after mouthful of water, until I can't breathe at all and the water is consuming me and—

I drift away.