Author's Note: I know, depressing, right? But here's a chapter that's slightly less depressing... and more action-y! XD
"Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl. You and me, we're even then. No more owed. You understand?" –Thresh, The Hunger Games
The day was long. Kit obviously didn't feel like talking much, so he and Vale just sat their atop their rock perch, looking out at the forest in silence. The rain was still holding off, which Vale was very grateful for, as their clothes still hadn't fully dried and the warmth still hadn't returned to her bones. A few rabbits and birds hopped around on the forest floor just below them, and Vale's ears slowly grew accustomed to the sound, to the point where she began to tune it out.
She wasn't sure how far they had traveled from their original hiding place in the night. It had been dark, with only flashes of lightning to illuminate their way, and it had been raining rather hard. Her mind had been clouded with exhaustion, and she hadn't really thought to keep track of their location.
This, of course, meant that she had no notion at all of where in the arena they were. For all she knew, they could be fifty feet from the Careers' camp and not even know it.
She quickly shook these thoughts from her mind. Thinking about one of Amber's arrows flying toward her from the blonde girl's silver bow, or Obsidian's sword glinting ominously in the golden sunlight… And how Achilles, the boy from District Two, was also skilled with a sword… It caused Vale to shudder.
At some point, Kit fell asleep beside her. She wasn't sure precisely when, because he had been so silent for such a long time now, and anyway, she wasn't in possession of a watch. He had sunk into slumber laying backward on the rock; it couldn't have been a very comfortable spot for a rest, but there was really nothing better.
Vale could feel her eyelids growing weightier, as well. She was sorely tempted to give in to sleep, as well—after all, she had been awake since the middle of the night—but she told herself that someone needed to remain alert to keep watch. After all, what if someone came upon them while they were unconscious and helpless? (Someone with a gleaming sword or a sheath full of sharp arrows?)
So there she remained up on the rock, staring out as far as she could see into the dense foliage. Her tailbone hurt, from the position she sat in, as well as her arms and back, and she wanted to get up and stretch her legs for a bit. But leaving Kit alone, asleep, and crippled would be a downright traitorous thing to do.
Then, she spotted the berry bush, sitting just twenty yards away in a beam of golden sunlight, like the sky itself was spotlighting it. It bore dozens of plump, ripe, ruby red berries, the kind that she had found inside the District Seven girl's backpack. She was well aware that their food supply was steadily dwindling; they only had some dried fruit and strips of meat left. The red berries looked delicious. Tantalizing.
What harm could it do? she asked herself.
The voice of reason, ever-present in the back of her mind, told her sternly, I wouldn't do that if I were you. Which I am. And believe me, you don't need to go over there when you have no idea what could be lurking out there, watching you, waiting….
Oh, please, Vale thought, inwardly scoffing at such groundless paranoia. It's twenty yards away. And it's just a little fruit.
The voice, it seemed, gave a dry bark of a laugh. "Just a little fruit?" Honestly? I might as well start calling you Eve! Are you really such a fool…?
Vale shook her head, dispelling these thoughts and the words of the pragmatic voice. It was a horrible voice, really, causing her to question every decision she made in the Games. Even partnering with Kit. It would just be a small walk over to gather a few handfuls of berries. Really, it wasn't as if she was leaving the slumbering Kit to take a leisurely stroll all around the forest, was it?
She slid down from the rock, alighting on the damp forest floor with a small thud. Keeping one hand on her knife, just to appease the warning bells going off in vain in her mind, she crept over to the berry bush and began to gather. One handful of berries into the backpack, two, three…
It was then that she heard the sound of a tree limb cracking nearby—too loud to be made by a small animal—followed by a muffled curse. Immediately, Vale's body went tense. Adrenaline surged through her veins, accelerated by her racing pulse. She had whipped out the knife from her belt and raised it in the air before she even realized what she was doing.
Without warning, a lean figure burst through the undergrowth, only a few feet to Vale's left. He was of average height, redheaded, with beady brown eyes. It was Lark, the fifteen-year-old from District Five. He didn't appear to be armed, and in all actuality, he looked to be nearly as startled as Vale.
This was how Vale managed to gain the upper hand: as if by some killer instinct she hadn't known she possessed, she brought her knife up to Lark's throat and held it there, the flat of the small blade against his skin. Not close enough to cut him inadvertently, but not far enough away to make him any less tense.
"D-don't move," Vale stammered. She wasn't sure what to do with him now. Only that she didn't want him to attack her, and holding the knife to his neck in this way seemed to be the safest precaution against this.
Lark's sister Fen, Vale's age and quite similar to her brother in regards to her looks, came rushing out from the trees on the other side of the rock on which Kit slept. Her short red hair was disheveled, and unlike Lark, she was equipped with a weapon: a sleek silver bow, like the one possessed by Amber Sheen, the Career.
Vale found herself swallowing hard. As Fen nocked an arrow, she pressed the flat side of the knife harder against Lark's throat. "Don't move," she said again, no less tremulously than the first time. "Don't shoot over here; y-you might hit your brother…."
But in fact, Fen wasn't pointing her arrow in the direction of Vale and Lark; she was swinging it around and aiming it at the rock. No, she was aiming it at Kit, who was currently rousing from his nap and taking in the scene around him with large, scared eyes.
"I'll shoot him," Fen warned. Her eyes were narrowed seriously in Kit's direction. She was taking careful aim. Vale recalled with a gulp how capable she had been of hitting bull's eyes back at the Training Center; if she shot at Kit, she wasn't going to miss.
"A-and if you do, I'll show no mercy," Vale stammered out, shifting the blade slightly against Lark's neck so it caught the light of the sun—the way Obsidian's sword had glinted menacingly in the light back at the bloodbath, in the way that made Vale so nervous even now.
Fen didn't lower her bow and arrow. She scoffed. "Oh, definitely. The stuttering scaredy-cat from District Twelve strikes such fear into my heart."
Her brother definitely looked scared, Vale thought.
Then, she saw: Fen did, too. Despite her even, sardonic tone, the girl's dark eyes were wide. Her hands quivered ever-so-slightly as they balanced the silver bow. She was gnawing lightly on her lip, and now, as she met Lark's eyes, a cold sweat seemed to break out across her forehead.
But she wiped the fear clean off her face as soon as Vale noticed it, replacing it with steely resignation. "I swear, Twelve, if you so much as nick him, this arrow is going right through your little friend's heart. With no hesitation."
Vale felt cold, and not only from her still damp clothing. She couldn't let Kit get hurt. And she didn't really have any desire to kill Lark, either….
When she spoke, her voice was a little stronger. Not strong, exactly, but stronger, with a desperate sort of resolve that left even Fen with no doubts as to her intentions.
"Fen, I don't want to hurt your brother…. So I highly advise that you don't hurt mine."
Fen's eyes went even wider. For a moment, her expression softened. She hesitated and almost lowered her arrow. Then, however, she seemed to decide against it. Her face steeled again, and she growled, "Then let Lark go."
Vale wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to—but the voice of reason in her mind warned against it, and it had a point. Oh, come on. The moment you let go of him, she's going to shoot Kit, and then you.
Right. "How do I know that you won't just shoot both of us then?" she demanded weakly.
Fen scowled. "Why shouldn't I now?"
Clearly, they were at an impasse. A stalemate. A standoff. Vale pressed her lips together in thought, lightening the pressure of the flat of her knife on Lark's neck.
At last, she spoke. "Listen, Fen—I have no reason to trust you, and you have no reason to trust me, either. But… we both care a lot about our district partners: your brother and my friend. Neither of us want to see them get hurt. So… let's just turn around and walk away. Pretend we never even saw each other here. Put down your arrow, and I'll put down my knife."
Lark's brown eyes seemed to glimmer with faint hope at this proposition.
But Fen looked dubious. "And how do I know that I can believe you? How do I know that, the second I put away my bow, you won't just attack my brother anyway?"
Vale's face was solemn. "You don't. And I don't have any more reason to believe that you'll keep your end of the bargain—except that we care about our brothers, and we'll do anything to see that they're safe."
Her pulse was racing in her ears, and it was hard to get a good breath. Surely Fen wouldn't actually agree to this! But she had to try.
"Do we have a deal?" she asked.
She heard Fen breathe a low sigh. Then, the redheaded girl shrugged her shoulders and removed the arrow from her bow, placing it back in a sheath at her side. "Fine. Now, let go of Lark."
The second that Vale removed the knife from Lark's neck, the boy broke away from her. He made a dash in the direction of the rock; for a moment, Vale felt a surge of fear that he was going to attack, and she prepared to make one wild, desperate throw of her knife in hopes of saving Kit.
But no, Lark kept on going, right past the rock, straight to his sister. He threw his arms around her jubilantly, and the two embraced for a long moment, until at last, he seemed to remember that they were being watched. Then, he separated from her with a look of embarrassment.
"Come on, Lark," his sister muttered. "Let's get going. Maybe we can find some food before nightfall."
As they turned to leave, Fen paused and glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes met Vale's. She didn't smile, not really, and yet it was blatantly obvious to Vale that she wanted to. That she was a little bit grateful that there hadn't been a bloody conflict here. That she hadn't wanted to shoot Kit—because she wasn't a bad person.
"Thanks," Fen mouthed. And then, she turned around and placed a hand on her brother's shoulders, and the two disappeared from sight.
"So, for tonight, we pray for what we know can be, and every day we hope for what we still can't see. It's up to us to be the change, and even though we all can still do more… There's so much to be thankful for." –Josh Groban, "Thankful"
Author's Note: *releases the breath I didn't realize I was holding* Phew. Scared you again, didn't I? XD
Hope you guys enjoyed! :)
~Lily