In case anyone didn't get why I was praising last chapter's title: Corruption. CORRuption. Wiley Corr. And look at this chapter! Alone. AL-lone. Okay, okay, put down the machine guns, I promise next chapter title won't have a pun in it.
"Get out of here, kid! I'll catch up with you later!" Al shouted at Thimble, straining to keep Wiley's hands from choking him. Thankfully, the young girl's stubborn spirit didn't win out. Al could hear the sound of her escaping into the jungle, her footsteps fading fast.
Wiley's eyes flicked in her direction. It was clear to see he wanted to follow her. With an unexpected heave, Wiley threw his body weight forward and sent Al staggering. He made it one step before Al blocked him again, tackling him in the stomach. Wiley was shaky on his feet and fell backwards with a yelp.
Al tried to regain himself and chase after Thimble, but a hand locked around his ankle, tripping him. Al hit the ground hard, grunting as his elbows took the brunt of the blow.
Wiley clambered to get on top of him, continuing to grab at his throat. Merely leaving him in the dirt and running away was no longer an option. Al let his fist fly. It connected with the corner of Wiley's eye, making a profound crunch as his glasses shattered.
With a deranged howl, Wiley brought down the palm of his hand forcefully, striking Al's mouth. The impact shook his teeth to their roots and he tasted blood. Al tried to work through the pain, using all of his strength to push Wiley off of him. But before Wiley fell back, his hand closed around Al's necklace. His sponsor gift.
Al let out a cry of pain as the chain dug into his neck. Wiley only pulled harder, his lips stretching back to reveal his teeth. "You're…not…real!" He snarled as Al fought for breath.
Gasping, he reached forward and attempted to pry the packet of repellant from Wiley's hands. "Don't…do this…Wiley…!" He begged in a thin voice.
For a moment, they were trapped in this position, Wiley pulling with all his strength while Al fought through the pain. Then, the packet burst, scattering its oily contents. A good amount landed on Wiley's face, around his eyes and nose. He threw back his head and screamed as if he had been doused with acid. Al realized that this was the opportune moment to escape—or kill someone he had regarded as a friend up until now.
He hesitated. And that was all Wiley needed.
With renewed ferocity, he let go of the necklace and went directly for Al's throat, digging his nails into the soft jugular. Wiley gasped frantically, tearing and clawing his way through the flesh, as Al struggled to escape. But he held tight, with strength he never knew he had possessed. Skin clumped under his nails and his fingers became slick with blood.
His chains had been broken. He had finally woken up and discovered the true reality of the Hunger Games.
Wiley threw his head back and laughed, a mad man's laugh. He removed his hands from Al's throat, paying no mind to the fact that his friend still lived. But Al no longer struggled. His breathing had become shallow and blood leaked from his ravaged throat.
A weak smile creased his lips. His blue-gray eyes swam with defeat and he closed them, hopeful that no one would take his death too hard. He would have been there to comfort them, if he could. Crack a joke or two so his mom would stop crying. Harass Beetle into putting a shirt on for his funeral. Heh. Of course that wasn't possible. This sort of thing had been inevitable as soon as his name had been called at the Reaping.
He had been resigned to his fate from the very beginning.
A cannon sounded and Wiley's laughter trailed off. He had nearly forgotten: Thimble. She was escaping with his canoe. The one he and Spark had found. Not her. That little thief!
Trying not to panic, Wiley went running in the direction he thought she had gone. The jungle became a green blur around him. His glasses were beyond repair, warping his vision. But he kept pushing on until he stumbled out into the open. The sandy beach beneath him nearly sent him tumbling forward, but he grinded to a halt before it could.
For a moment, he stood there, blinking in the light of the rising sun. But then he spotted her. Not far down the shore, Thimble was pushing the canoe out into the waves. Her face turned towards his. Her eyes settled on his blood-soaked hands. Thimble's face screwed up in a mixture of grief, rage, and shock.
"YOU MURDERER!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs.
Wiley shot towards her, stumbling through the sand, his gaze fixed hungrily on the canoe.
But Thimble had already gotten it in the water. Quickly, she climbed in and began paddling with all her might, choking back tears. She didn't dare look back, terrified she would see Wiley directly behind her.
"Oh, no, no, no, please come back! Come back!"
He almost sounded like the old Wiley. Thimble turned and saw him rooted on shore, pacing back and forth. His face was that of a frightened child's, contrasting sharply with the blood on his hands.
Thimble, now at a safe distance, put down her paddle and screamed back, "No! Y…You killed Al! How could you?!" Warm tears broke free and ran down her face.
Wiley was tearing at his hair now, wailing, "Please come back! Please, I'm begging you, please! I can't swim, I can't swim-"
"NO!" Thimble repeated, surprised by the sheer volume of her voice.
Wiley could feel his panic heightening as the canoe drifted farther and farther away. But then that panic was abruptly replaced with a hot flash of rage. "Fine! LEAVE!" He roared, "I don't need you! I despise you! I loathe you! You arrogant, smug, monstrous little girl! I swear I will find you and I will kill you, love!"
"NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST!" Thimble screamed back with all her might.
Wiley opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't produce anymore sound. He lowered his head, glaring at Thimble's retreating form, his throat raw from screaming.
"Fine…" He whispered, "Then let the games begin."
The sun had already been up for a long time when Claire awoke. Her bones audibly cracked as she tried to lift herself off the thick branch that served as her bed last night. Blearily, she rubbed her eyes and peered towards the ground.
"Damn, I was beginnin' to think you were dead!" Buck called jovially from the ground, "You slept right through that cannon."
"Who died?" Claire asked groggily, attempting to tame her bushy mound of hair.
"Hell if I know." Buck shrugged, biting into a juicy mango. "But the recap of it should keep the Capitol entertained for a while. Now come get breakfast."
Claire blinked hard, finally bringing the world into clearer view. Buck was sitting cross-legged on the ground, a pile of fruit in front of him. Frustration bubbled up inside Claire and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, scolding him. "How could you! Not only did you run off on your own, leaving me alone in this tree, you ate fruit that could be poisoned! Spit that out right now!"
Buck waved her away, growling, "It ain't! Now if you don't want yer share, I'd be happy to eat it for ya!" He eyed the luscious fruit, his stomach growling on cue. He longed to sink his teeth into another mango.
"Stop it!" Claire demanded, disliking the hungry look in his eyes, "There must be a catch. Gamemakers don't just hand food out like this."
"They do if they don't feel like watchin' 23 tributes die of starvation." Buck grumbled stubbornly.
Claire knew she couldn't argue with Buck. He was obstinate, just like her. So she did the next best thing, bringing her foot down on the tiny pile of food, smashing the fruit into the ground. Juice squirted in every direction, staining her boot. But her eyes were fixed on Buck, waiting for his reaction.
His jaw dropped. "The hell's wrong with you? I went outta my way to get you breakfast and this is the thanks I get?"
"We're going to get our food the hard way." Claire said sternly. "The right way."
Buck's wide brown eyes became hard. "Who says there's gonna be a 'we' after this?" He stepped right up to Claire, so that he was looming over her, as if to intimidate her with his height. He glared at her, shoulders rigid with tension. "Don't think you can boss me around like you did to your little pal from District 8."
She faced up to him bravely, lifting her chin. She was used to everyone towering over her. This wasn't impressive at all. But on the inside, fear was beginning to build. Buck was a ruffian and probably wouldn't think twice about hitting a woman of her stature.
But then Buck cracked a smile. "Aww, lookit you tryna act all tough! C'mon Sweetcheeks, you really think I'd break this alliance over a piece of fruit?"
No, I thought you were going to freaking kill me! Claire nearly laughed hysterically. But she composed herself and said in a calm voice, "You need to stop doing that. And please don't mention Flick to me again."
"Sorry. I won't."
Claire blinked back her surprise. Wow. Did he really just apologize? No snarky remark or stupid nickname?
But Buck had already gotten his fill of antagonizing her for the morning. His stomach was rumbling incessantly and he was keen on filling it with something he missed terribly: meat.
Thimble hadn't been able to look when they collected the body. She knew she wouldn't be able to watch the sky that night either. The only thing she could do was lie in the canoe, eyes closed as the sun beat down on her. She had run out of tears to cry. The sharp pain of sadness had turned to a dull ache.
How strange that she was the only one in the canoe. Just a few days ago, it had been packed with her alliance as they struggled to move dynamite from one island to the next. She tried to imagine them filling it once more, but the silence made it impossible. If they were really here, Al and Wiley would have been chattering away while Spark made wise remarks.
Wiley.
Thimble hadn't felt this amount of hatred for a while. It seared her bones and made her want to break something. Perhaps she had experienced this sort of rage when it came to Lacy Button. But she had never wished death upon her bully. Now, she found herself wishing for Wiley to experience the most painful death the arena had to offer.
With a shaky sigh, Thimble opened her eyes. She sat up and looked around. She hadn't drifted too far from the islands, due to the current. The remnants of Wrath were frighteningly close and the smell of sulfur stung her nose. Heat shimmered over the red-tinged rocks.
The island had a strange aura to it. Thimble hadn't seen the hovercraft collect the bodies left there. Were they buried in the earth, encased by volcanic ash? Would their families get to see them again? Would they want to?
She hadn't even looked back. She hadn't even spared a thought for them, until now. And when Al was mourning Spark, she only felt disgustingly envious. And then…she had left Al to die. She could have fought alongside him with her hatchet, but she had selfishly chosen her own life over his. She was done lying to herself that he would have done the same. Al wasn't that kind of person—he had proved he wasn't just another Kalin. He was a good person…and she wasn't.
Thimble's eyes blurred with tears. I'm a terrible human being, She thought, sobbing with regret, I deserve to be in the Hunger Games. I deserve to die.
With those thoughts echoing in her mind, Thimble curled into a miserable heap and closed her eyes once more.
Needless to say, Buck and Claire's hunting expedition was a failure. Weaponless and with little knowledge on snares, they floundered their way through the forest of Gluttony. Buck began to grow nervous. It was only a matter of time until the Gamemakers deemed them uninteresting…Cerberus would probably come crashing through the undergrowth at any moment.
The snapping of twigs nearly scared him out of his skin. But he relaxed when he realized that whatever made the sound was small. He motioned for Claire to be silent and crept towards it. They crouched behind a wall of bushes and peeked through the leaves at a fat little boar. It was absorbed in snuffling at the ground, looking for food.
"And just how are you going to catch that poor little pig?" Claire whispered. She had already pointed out their lack of weaponry at least ten times so Buck was well aware of this fact.
"I'm gonna sneak up on it and snap its neck. Good ol' District 10 style!" He said bluntly, smirking as Claire cringed.
"You're going to make the Capitol think we're a bunch of barbarians!" She complained, but Buck was already creeping to a better vantage point.
The air was hot and heavy. There was no wind to give away his position. He went as close to the boar as he dared, tensing every muscle to spring on it. Claire remained where she was, feeling her eyes tear up. Poor baby pig. It had only just come into this world. It didn't deserve to be killed.
Claire shook her head angrily to clear these thoughts. Idiot! Neither did any of the kids here, She scolded herself. Buck was moving in for the kill, so she kept quiet and turned her face away.
Suddenly, a sharp squeal pierced the air. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it to be over. But the squealing broke off into angry snorting. She opened her eyes to see a larger boar, perhaps the parent, come crashing through the bushes opposite of her. The child shrieked, practically tripping over its hooves in its hurry to leave. But the angry boar's fury was directed at Buck.
He cursed as it charged right towards him. Instinctively, he threw out his arms for protection, catching the gigantic pig's tusks. But the beast was stronger and forced him to the ground, attempting to trample him with its hooves.
"Buck!" Claire screamed, but there was little she could do for him. The gasoline was back at camp, but…the matches! She pulled out the matches, preparing to light one. But they shook in her hand. She was terrified of lighting one. Images of tributes dying by fire danced in her head.
I'm sorry, Buck. I can't do it. I can't do it.
Buck struggled underneath the monstrous boar, still trying to force its tusks away from him. The pig screamed, attempting to gore him over and over. A hoof was planted firmly on his chest, squeezing the air out of his body.
He would have laughed, if he had the strength. He had spent his life gutting pigs. How ironic that a piece of meat was about to slice him open. He almost felt sorry for himself, but there was a strange new feeling there as well. He wanted Claire to go on and win for him. She was a good person—a better person than he'd ever be. She deserved it more than anyone.
Buck let out a gasp, attempting to convey this final wish to her. But he barely had the strength to shout. Claire, git the heck outta here! Win and go home! He thought, willing this message to somehow reach her mind.
But then, with a primal scream, Claire was at his side.
Dammit Claire! But then Buck got a better look.
Claire had set ablaze a thin branch and was wielding it like a sword. Ferocity danced in her eyes, making the tiny girl look threatening for once in her life. She sprang forward, swinging the torch at the boar. It connected with the beast's snout, scattering embers. With a squeal, Buck's attacker turned tail and ran. Buck just lay there, stunned at the events that had unfolded. He sat up, looking dazed. His chest felt tight and his muscles throbbed. But he was whole. The boar had been unable to penetrate him with its sharp tusks.
"How do you put this out?!" Claire's shrill voice brought him back to reality.
She was dancing from foot to foot, looking panicked. The fire was steadily eating its way down the stick, towards her hands.
Buck got up, laughing, "Give it here. Yer gonna set the whole forest ablaze, missy." He tossed it on the ground and stomped it out easily. As he did so, he became aware that his lower torso was wet. Buck paused, touching the damp spot, and then bringing it nose for a sniff.
"…What's wrong?" Claire asked, wide-eyed.
"Awww, son of a…!" Buck nearly let loose a string of curses, but he composed himself for Claire's sake. He gritted his teeth and growled, "Peed on my suit. Not enough that he tried to kill me—had to go and pee on me too." He turned and stomped off.
Claire was trying hard not to laugh. She covered up her chuckles with a cough and asked, "Where are you going?"
"To get revenge. This just got personal."
"Buck!" Claire said, running to his side.
He rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming, just from her tone. Time for a lengthy lecture.
"Buck, don't be stupid. We barely managed to scare that thing off and now you want to chase after it? Maybe you forgot we have nothing to defend ourselves with. Well, here's your reminder: we don't. So please explain to me how your mind works and why, exactly, you're suddenly so keen on letting a monster-pig kill you because I would really love to know."
Buck gave a frustrated sigh. "Well, I'm a complex guy, sweetheart."
"No. No, you're just being stubborn." Claire countered, lifting her chin, "And we are going back to camp right now, mister, and eating poisoned mangos the rest of the day if you can't let go of this silly grudge! Animals pee, in fact, we all do. The boar wasn't making a personal attack on you, it was just going through a bodily function."
"Yeah, it wasn't attackin' me at all!" Buck snapped sarcastically, "Just like I wasn't on the ground, tryin' ta keep it from stabbin' me!"
"I wasn't talking about that part, I was talking about the fact that it peed on you!"
"Can we please stop havin' this conversation?" Buck flushed. He was probably the laughingstock of Panem right now. Shouting some dramatic last words to Claire, telling her to win for him, would have been much more noble. Yeah, it'd been done, but it was still a darn cool exit! But with the way she was acting now, he was having second thoughts. He felt protective over her in dire situations, but in normal conversation, he prayed she would find a cliff to walk off of.
Claire, equally stubborn as him, continued to lecture him. But Buck just walked on ahead, tuning her out as he followed the trail the boar had made. For some reason, dread washed over him. Claire was being awfully loud. And they were never out of danger. The Gamemakers might not be through with them.
"Shut up!" Buck snapped, listening to their surroundings.
Claire gave him a withering look. "Oh, real mature—"
Buck refrained from smacking a hand over her mouth and hissed, "Listen! I hear somethin'."
Claire's eyes widened with horror. She froze where she was, and she heard it. A faint squealing that was quickly growing louder. Both tributes braced themselves as the boar from earlier came streaking through the trees. But it did not spare them a second glance. On its heels was Cerberus, both heads snapping their oversized jaws. The main head snagged the boar just as it gave a mighty leap. A loud crack penetrated the air, signaling that the boar's spine had been broken. It fell limp in the giant hound's teeth.
Buck and Claire were stiff with horror. Cerberus's two broad heads swiveled around on their long necks to focus on them. Two pairs of eyes shone excitedly at the prospect of another hunt. The gigantic boar went crashing to the ground.
"Run!" Buck roared, pushing Claire into action.
They turned and sprinted back the way they came, with nowhere else to go. Buck's mind raced. They had no boat to escape on. They had no weapons to fight with, not that it would have been an even match. Except…
"Back to camp!" Buck gasped, continuing to shove Claire ahead of him, keeping himself between her and Cerberus. Buck was a fast sprinter, but with little stamina, his strength was failing him. Cerberus was going to catch up at this rate.
An excited yip came from his left. Pounding paws shook the ground like a miniature earthquake. A pair of jaws snapped from somewhere behind him. Buck could feel the muttation's hot breath on the back of his neck. Any moment he expected it to be over, waiting for the feel of teeth sinking into his skin. But it didn't come.
Suddenly, they were back at camp. Claire threw herself at their large tree and scrambled up the trunk. But not before pausing to offer a hand to Buck.
"Just go!" He growled, "I'm right behind you!"
Quickly, he climbed up behind her. But then he realized what he had come back for in the first place—the gasoline. It was still at the base of the tree. He turned back around to climb down and retrieve it, but Cerberus was already there.
Claire screamed as the dog gave a mighty leap. But Buck brought his knees up to his chest just in time and the beast's teeth barely grazed his toes. Panting, Buck scaled to a higher branch, near Claire's. They sat there and caught their breath, waiting for their heart rates to slow down. Both tributes were safely out of reach.
Cerberus gave a frustrated growl, pacing around the trunk of the tree. It scraped at the trunk, and even tackled it, but the bark was thick. It would not bend under his weight. After numerous failed attempts, Cerberus just stopped and stared at them, fury blazing in all four of his eyes.
"Now what?" Claire whispered nervously, wiping the sweat off her forehead.
As if in response, Cerberus settled down on the ground and rested its center head on its paws. Yet, it continued to glare up at the tributes, waiting for them to come down. Clearly, it was not about to leave anytime soon.
District 10 had been treed like a couple of cats.
Where the heck was Zale?
Sagitta couldn't believe he had vanished so easily. Daringly, she had entered the ship and found the hull to be empty. She could have screamed from frustration. She had been so patient as to wait him out, but he was gone anyways. Perhaps he had escaped the ship when she wasn't looking, much like Al had on the first day.
So she busied herself with getting food and water, and then returned to her vantage point on the island with the tree. Night was falling. Speaking of Al, he had been the one to die that morning. Cunning little creep. She wished she could see how it happened, but she would have to wait until the full recap with Caesar Flickerman.
Just as the last of the sun's rays melted away, something caught Sagitta's eye. A tribute was out in the open, pacing along the shores of the jungle island. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out who it was. It definitely wasn't Zale. His shock of blonde hair would have stood out like a sore thumb.
She surmised from the height that it was the District 3 tribute. She couldn't place his name, but...how the heck was he even still alive? She had counted him as Bloodbath fodder from the very beginning.
Oh well. She had time to make an easy kill. Then it would be back to hunting Zale.
It was nighttime, yet Cerberus had still not left. Each of the heads traded off keeping watch, much like the tributes did. One dozed while the other stared at them hungrily. Through careful observation, Buck began to realize each head had a separate personality. The pointy-eared dog was vicious and hell-bent on destroying them. The floppy-eared one was its simpering beta, but Buck was also heavily reminded of one of the dogs that used to hang around the slaughterhouse.
The dog was big and friendly with short hair as black as night and floppy ears. It was different from the other mutts that fought for scraps. This one came right up to people, wagging its tail, his eyes bright with hope. Most likely, someone had owned him previously, but hadn't the money to keep him. Buck sometimes let the hungry animal lick the blood off his fingers after a hard day's work. Then he didn't have to bother with washing up and could go straight into his second job—conning Peacekeepers.
But the darn thing was too friendly for its own good. It crossed a mean shepherd one day, probably just looking to make friends, and had its guts spread across an alley. That's where kindness got you in the Tenderloin.
"Buck…" Claire squeaked fearfully, still perched on the same branch as earlier, "Are you up for having that conversation we postponed from the other night…?"
The floppy-eared head of Cerberus raised its eyes hopefully. They sparkled with the same joy that the slaughterhouse dog's did. Oh please come down and play with me, They said, Oh please let me tear you limb from limb. It will be so fun, I promise!
Buck tore his gaze away from it to peer up at his district partner. He sighed and stretched, listening to the crack of his bones. "Sure." He yawned. Strangely, he didn't mind so much now. Maybe it was because thoughts of home were already running through his mind. Or maybe Cerberus's presence made him more willing to talk about the past.
He let Claire take it away. She chattered on about her family while Buck listened. She told him everything—how she had lost her mother at a young age and taken her place. How she was constantly reprimanding her sister, Demi, and trying to build some confidence in her little brother, Noah.
No wonder she acts so motherly, Buck sighed inwardly. But from the way she spoke, he could tell that she loved her family very much. He almost felt envious of it.
"So what about you?" Claire asked, leaning against the trunk of the tree. One foot dangled off the sturdy branch she was on. She didn't seem to notice Cerberus eyeing it wistfully.
Buck growled, "I reckon I don't have no heartwarmin' story for you. My parents're dead, my grandma's a loon, and my older brother…" He trailed off. He knew Ram must have resented him somewhat, for always having to look out for him. But at the same time, they were brothers and they cared about one another. Despite all that animosity…nothing could break that bond. "My older brother has always had my back." He finished, smiling fondly, "He's my partner in crime."
Claire felt emotion swell in her chest. Buck's smile just now was so genuine, yet he had been through so much. She really admired him for it. "If you don't mind me asking…how did your parents die?" Her voice was wrought with sympathy.
Buck didn't feel offended. Most people were curious over the matter. But that was one thing he didn't want to relive. He remembered screaming and crying as his brother held him, demanding to know what happened. But the Peacekeepers just didn't care. As far as they were concerned, his parents weren't any more important than that poor dog, torn to pieces in the alley…
"It don't matter no more." Buck whispered, surprised to hear his voice shake slightly. "We should get to bed."
"Buck," Claire said softly, "Wherever they are, I'm sure they're proud of you."
Buck blinked hard. Something had gotten in his eye. Or maybe these were tears. Either way, he squeezed them shut, thinking, Dammit, Claire. Don't make me care about you any more than I already do.
"Be careful not to tumble off the branches tonight," Claire went on, "Cerberus is still down there. Hopefully…he'll go away soon." She bit her lip nervously, unable to believe her own words.
"Yeah. Night, Claire." Buck said, turning onto his side.
Claire smiled to herself. You called me Claire. She nearly pointed it out, but she knew it would probably get on Buck's nerves and lead him to call her a few more ridiculous nicknames. Instead, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
RIP Al. Can you believe he was initially pegged as a Bloodbath when he was first created? He was another character I loved; with his poor attempts at flirting and his corny jokes shielding his quiet acceptance that he was already dead. He even fooled many of you guys with his idiot act, as displayed by your doubtful reviews in the beginning. But Al was a really great character and he brought out the best in everyone he met, making for some great interactions with Ian, Jade, Buck, Thimble, Spark…you get it. I suppose I should stop gushing, but it's hard not to go on about my favorites, as you've probably noticed by now. Oh well…he's in that big block party in the sky now.