Chapter Thirty-Eight.
Poisonous Fog.
Tiny, searing stabs engulf my body wherever the droplets if mists touch my skin. The others have begun to stir but have no idea what the seriousness of the situation unrolling around us. Ensuring Finnick was proportionally okay, I scream, "Run!" at the others, "The fog is poisonous." Willow snaps awake instantly and pulls Peeta who is awake but not alert along after Finnick and I who aren't waiting for them but it becomes apparent very early on into the run that the after-effects of hitting the forcefield have been significant because I feel slow and sluggish, unable to properly locate the snaking vines on the floor causing me to stumble occasionally. Despite he being injured, Finnick Odair wrapped my right arm over his shoulders, digging his shoulder into my armpit to steady me carefully, Peeta and Willow are running along slightly behind us who aren't suffering any forms of reaction from the gas. The wall of fog extended in a straight line as far as I can see in either direction. As I prove more problems than solutions, I cannot understand why Finnick wouldn't just flee, abandon me and save himself. It would be so simple to run full out. It reminds me of the way I sprinted away from the muttations in the my first Games, Garrett had just died and I didn't even to see if he was even vacantly alive instead I sprint away without a second glance. But Finnick's grip didn't loosen, I think of the eyes glued to the television in the districts, seeing if he will run as the Capitol wishes, or will he hold his ground.
He left hand locks fingers with my right that dangles over his shoulder and says, "Watch my feet. Just try to step where I step." It helps. We seem to move a little faster, but never enough to afford a rest and the mist continues to lap at our heels. Droplets spring free of the body of vapour. They burn, but not like fire. Less a sense of heat and more of intense pain as the chemicals find our flesh, cling to it and borrow down through the layers of skin. Our jumpsuits are no help at all. We may as well be dressed in tissue paper, for all the protection they give.
Willow, who has bounded off initially, stops when she realises we're having problems. But this is not a thing you can fight, only evade. She shouts encouragement, trying to move us along and the sound of her voice acts as a guide, through a little more. Finnick is completely oblivious to the clump of vines, as he sprawls forwards, he throwing me a fair distance. As I help him up, I become aware of something scarier than the blisters, more debilitating than burns. The left side of his face has sagged, as if every muscle in it has died. The lid droops, almost concealing his eye. His mouth twists in an odd angle towards the ground. "Finnick –" I begin. And that's when I feel the spasms running up my arm.
Whatever chemical laces the fog does more than burn – it targets our nerves. A whole new kind of fear shoots through me and I yank Finnick forwards, which only causes him to stumble. By the time I get him to his feet, both of my arms are twitching uncontrollably. The fog has moved in on us, the body of it's less than a meter away. Something is wrong with Finnick's legs; he trying to walk but they move in a spastic and puppet-like fashion.
I feel him lurch forwards and realise that Peeta has come back for us and is hauling Finnick along. I wedge my shoulder, which still seems under my control, under Finnick's arm in the same way he had when he attempted to keep me steady and I do my best to keep up with Peeta's rapid race. We put about ten meters between us and the fog when Peeta stops.
"It's no good. I'll have to carry him." Peeta tells me, "Willow, can you help Anastasia?"
Willow certainly doesn't look overly happy about the new arrangements but still, she nods silently and grips me in a familiar way Finnick had and she begins to guide me through the vines. Peeta shows amazing strength when I see him with Finnick slung across his back and we move forwards with Peeta trailing along behind.
The fog comes, silently and steady and flat, except for the grasping tendrils. Although my instincts is to run directly away from however Willow is moving at a diagonally down the hill. He's trying to keep a distance from the gas while steering us towards the water that surrounds the Cornucopia. Yes, water, I think as the acid droplets bore deeper into me. Now I'm so thankful I didn't kill Willow because if I had, Peeta wouldn't be on my side helping Finnick.
Suddenly, Peeta trips and tumbles to the ground. Willow almost tosses me aside to check on her district partner but she finds it deep within herself to bring me to the bundle of two males on the jungle floor. "Finnick?" I call out hoarsely, the fog almost snatches a hold of us angrily. Non-verbally, Willow and myself grip our district partners and then form a line, all leaning on each other.
Time and space loses all meaning as the fog seems to invade my brain, muddling my thoughts and making everything unreal. Some deep-rooted animal desire for survival keeps me stumbling with the rest of my pack, to continue moving although I'm probably dead already. Part of me are dead, or must be dying. Moonlight glinting on Finnick's bronze hair, beads of searing pain peppering me, all of a sudden, the fog almost engulfs us, if it wasn't for the hidden hill, the fog would have swallowed us whole.
Our bodies fall apart as we slam and smash against uneven ground as we tumble. Once we hit the bottom, nothing makes any sense, my vision is blurred whilst my entire body is engulfed in searing pain and hideous blisters. Finnick's body rolled further forwards then mine, he lays on his front with his arms still jerking. Peeta is laying on his back just beside Finnick's feet whilst Willow somehow managed to end up on my right side with her legs twisted oddly. I manage to turn over from my front to my back, propping myself up on my elbows to see the cloud of tinted green fog descending in on us, I try to call out but my throat is on fire. This is where, how and where we are all going to die. I think but from beside me, I hear Finnick groan and attempt to move across the ground however it's futile but then, at the bottom of the hill, less than two meters from my feet, I watch the fog hit something solid, not a body or a tree, something invisible like a glass window. The fog becomes thicker as it's being forced to condense. Like the other horrors I have witnessed in the arena, it must of reached the end of its territory. Either that or Plutarch Heavensbee has decided not to kill us just yet.
"It's stopped." I try to say, but only an awful croaked sound comes from my swollen mouth, "It's stopped." I say again, and this time I must be clearer because Willow and Peeta turn their heads to the fog. It begins to rise upwards now, as if being slowly vacuumed into the sky. We watch until it has all been sucked away and not the slightest wisp remains.
Turning over, the glistening beautiful of a small pond rests only meters from my grasp. If I can reach it that is. Using all the upper strength I have left in my sore and blistered body, I grapple across the jungle floor keeping a blurred eye out for bugs or snakes. My hand first sinks into the water but I jerk away as if I've touched an open flame because the blisters release searing pain through my body. Rubbing salt into a wound, this is the first time I truly appreciate the expression because the salt in the water makes the pain of my wounds so blinding I nearly black out but there's another sensation, of drawing out. I experiment by gingerly replacing my hand into the water, it's torturous, yes, but through the blue layer of water, I see a milky white substance leaching out of the wounds on my skin. As the whiteness diminishes, so does the pain and my hand returned to the state it was before the attack. Soft and smooth without a trace of blistering or burns.
"The water helps." I tell them glancing back to see Peeta looking confused at Willow but doesn't question it. Instead, he commando crawls through the undergrowth like I had beforehand and joins me at the waters edge. I crawl in further into the water, using my newly mended hands to rubs water across the blisters on my neck and face. I growl in anger trying to keep my agonising noises to a minimum so I don't alert the other victors. Willow copies mine and Peeta's actions with a look of discomfort but Finnick still remains laying down on the floor.
Peeta recovers enough to help me drag Finnick into the small pond, our arms linked with his we drag him into the water and hold him steady as the water works its magic on the wounds but it becomes clear quickly that leaving him to soak wasn't going to be enough to remove the amount of wounds he has. Willow needs help so I tell Peeta to go and help his district partner. With Peeta gone, I readjust my grip and the position of my body, considering the pond isn't very deep at all, I manage to kneel with Finnick's head resting against my collarbone with my right arm wrapped from behind, under his armpit with my hand grasped firmly on the top of his right shoulder, the floatation device looks undamaged by the acid fog and helps keep the rest of his body afloat just below the surface of the water. I get to work slightly unzipping Finnick's jumpsuit and rubbing the flesh clear of the wounds, the milky white discharge erupts from beneath him floating to the surface, Finnick doesn't notice, he just lies there, eyes shut giving me an occasional moan. When I am certain he is clear of blisters, I re-zip his suit up. It's dangerous to throw him in face first but with the stead hold I have on his body, I wash water over his neck and his forehead removing the pustules. Slowly, Finnick begins to revive. His face is still floppy but his eyes are open, he gathers the strength to pick up his arms from beneath the water and examine the newness of his hand, then he registers the awareness he is being helped.
"You've just got your face left, Finnick. That's the worst pair but you'll feel much better after, I promise." I tell him, "That's if you can bear it." I know the tease will egg on Finnick to prove me wrong. His right arm bends at the elbow and grips my hand that rests on his shoulder. His other hand will be the one he raises if submerged in the water too long but I'd like to think he has more trust in me than that. Finnick nods and I plunge him into the water, my hand gently brushes over the blisters washing them away and turning his face back to normal. I return him to the surface and his face slowly returns back to the normal and original looking Finnick Odair.
"Are you okay?" he asks me after regaining the ability to speak.
I raise my eyebrows at him in bewilderment, why is Finnick asking if I'm okay when he is the one whose been the worse effected by the poisonous fog. "I'm fine, are you okay though?" I ask in reply but before he replies, Peeta has adventured over to us.
"I'm going to tap a tree, can I have the spile?" he asks, I nod and remove the spile from my holster and hand it too him. I hold Finnick in the water until he has full movement of his limbs, which is when I help him out of the water. After that, we collect our weapons which are all resting at the bottom of the hill, out of the three tridents Finnick was carrying, only one remains. My golden axe glistens in the moonlight, I've lost one of my two long knifes and a handful of arrows but the bow is still in great condition. It takes several intense looks to find the throwing knives that have become loose but with Finnick's help we manage to find them all. In privacy, I double check I have my trinket from Dieter Rollo, the bracelet from Haymitch Abernathy and my mockingjay pin given to be by Peeta Mellark.
I'm so oblivious to collecting my weapons, I don't realise that Finnick is tugging on my elbow. "What?" I growl turning my attention to him but also the surrounding, perched on the branches, in the trees and the land around the pond are what look like monkeys, I have never actually seen monkeys before however I must have seen a picture or one in a previous Games because when I see the creature, the same word comes to mind. These monkeys have fuzzy fire like the tree rat but it looks tinted orange although it's hard to tell in the dim light, they are about half the size of a fully grown human.
I edge backwards into the water, repositioning the golden axe in my hand ready to use. The monkeys don't appear to be showing any sign of aggression but in my first Hunger Games I was shown that enough birds can cause serious harm. "Peeta? Come away from the tree, slowly." I tell him. A monkey suddenly switches attitude from calm to snarling, the creature snaps at Peeta making him dart backwards down the slope leaving the spile in the tree. Willow is armed with a arrow already loaded into her bow, Finnick has his trident poised ready to strike and I have my axe. As Peeta edges his way back to the pond to retrieve his sword from me, his eyes only dart up for a second but it's as if he triggered a bomb. The monkeys explode into a shrieking mass of orange fur and converge on him dangerously.
A/N: What did you guys think of this chapter? So, no-one died in this chapter but what about next? The monkey muttations are next up to try and kill the four victors, make sure you read that but follow and/or favourite, if you're enjoying this and review telling me what you think :)