I really don't feel well X_X I"m going back to bed now. Quarter Quell try-outs are up. Check out the forum. If you can't find the forum or get it to work, let me know and I'll see what's wrong with the link. I hope you really enjoy this chapter...Tensions building!
Next update is Saturday. From now on, as long as everyone is good with the updates-they will be Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday since the games are reaching fever pitch.
Quarter Quell
Try-outs have begun!
Aella Dekas, District Five
by Lexi Blaze
Cause in the end, no one loses or wins
The story begins again and again
- Forgiveness and Love by Miley Cyrus
I sprint home as fast as I can, almost as if I'm running for my life. But that's ridiculous. I'm not running for my life . . . I'm running from a dog.
Pascal's dog Maxi and I race to my home, yelping and barking all the way as we fling our bodies against the wind, reveling in freedom now that the school day has just finished. Flynn and Pascal are both walking to my house as well – we're going to do homework together before playing ball or hanging out or something. I have no idea where they are now though – Maxi and I have left them in the dust.
The dog and I arrive at my small, grey, two-story house at the same time. We flop down on the ground, panting, and Maxi's tongue rolls around in the dirt as I scratch his belly. My blonde ponytail gets dusty from lying on the ground, but I only sit up once Flynn and Pascal arrive at my house and roll their eyes at me.
We go barging in through the front door, talking loudly and tracking mud through the house. My pampered and all-too-perfect sister Cleo is sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.
"Whoa. She can read?" Flynn sniggers sarcastically and I punch him in the stomach.I'mthe only person allowed to insult my sister.
She hears his comment, though, and flips her hair over her shoulder, curling her lip when she looks up at us. I notice that her heavy mascara is flaking, and I smirk. "I'm learning how to lose five pounds," she says, her rose-red lips smiling unpleasantly.
"Here's an idea," I say over-enthusiastically, raising my eyebrows as high as they will go, "wipe the makeup off your face!"
I sprint up the stairs to my bedroom as Flynn and Pascal shout with laughter. Maxi stays in the kitchen, hoping for table scraps from Cleo that he's not going to get.
We settle down on the floor, cracking open our textbooks and pulling our pencils from our bags. We're studying electricity – big surprise, since we're from the district of electricity. If there's a power outage in Panem, it's our fault. And let me tell you, our industry is completely different from the technology of District 3, no matter what anyone else says.
I don't mind electricity. Sure, I don't want to work with it when I grow up, but it's not like I have a choice. Besides, I understand it: electrons and protons and neutrons and conductors and circuits and all that crap. I'm not a genius with it, like Pascal – he's already figured out how to get signal for the TV so we can watch ridiculous Capitol soap operas – but at least I'm not hopeless at it, like Flynn.
The brunette boy pushes his textbook over to me as I lie on my stomach, my chin in my hands. He gives me a puppy dog face, but I reach out and squash it by poking him in the eye. "C'mon, Aella," he says once I'm done my attack. "Please, can you do my homework for me? You know I don't get this stuff."
"That's because you've got the IQ of a potato," Pascal snorts, not looking up from his work.
"Pascal!" I chide. "Don't insult potatoes!"
Flynn scowls playfully and lunges across the room at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and whamming my head into the floor. I respond with a kick to his stomach, and soon we're in a full-out wrestling and shoving match in the middle of my bedroom floor.
Pascal just glares at us as I knock Flynn into my bed, but I know he wants to join in. Flynn then tackles me, grabbing me around the middle, and we both go flying backwards into the bedside table. The lamp on it teeters and then falls, shattering upon the floor. We stop our fighting and stare at it incredulously.
A shout suddenly sounds from downstairs. "Just because you guys are having a threesome up there," Cleo yells, "does not mean you can be as loud as you want!"
I immediately let go of Flynn, and he does the same, almost as if my skin has turned to fire. "Cleo!" I shot back, racking a hand through my ponytail, "that's absolutely disgusting!"
We hear her snickering from below.
From then on, we try to get back to our homework, but none of us can concentrate. The final decision is to do it later. But I never end up doing Flynn's homework – or mine. Because tomorrow is the Reaping of the 24thAnnual Hunger Games . . . and we all know what happened to me then.
Something kicks me, and my eyes snap open. My hand clutches around my dagger tightly, and I glance in the direction of the kick - but it was just Moss, twitching in his sleep.
I drop the small, dull dagger to my side and run my hands over my face tiredly. The sun may have just gone down, but everyone's taking a short nap before what is going to be an epic fight with the Careers . . . and since I'm the only uninjured one, I've been put on guard duty. I'm not falling asleep on the job, but I am zoning out and thinking of old memories of home. Like when I first met Pascal: we were both climbing in a tree, he pushed me out, and I broke my arm. Or the time when Flynn and I illegally went swimming in a small body of water we found just inside the district fence. And the time when we blamed my sister, Cleo, for stealing sweets from the candy store? Priceless. And I can't forget the time I convinced Flynn to eat a mud pie I made (literally, it was made of mud) and he threw up in Pascal's bedroom.
The nostalgia made my eyes water, and I quickly swiped at them. I wasn't one of those prissy girls who went around saying she never cried - I cried quite often, and I wasn't afraid to admit it. But that didn't mean I liked it: Flynn always made fun of me for crying quicker and more often than him and Pascal. To me, it was a reminder that while they were my best friends, we were still different.
I shake my head again and let the nostalgic feelings pass. I can't break my concentration and think about home right now - I'm in the middle of the Hunger Games. I need to concentrate on survival.
I glance over my fellow allies - and the two new oddballs in our group. Moss is sleeping between me and Lilly (on a bed of moss. How ironic). He keeps twitching in his sleep, as if he's having nightmares. I can't blame him - my own dreams are plagued by tributes like that Onyx girl, even though she's dead. (But that was what made it scarier - I had noticed the graveyard in the arena, and I couldn't get it out of my mind.)
Moss's brown hair flops into his closed eyes, and the corners of my mouth can't help but turn up into a small smile. Although I haven't known him for long, he's a great friend - and we already have inside jokes, like the "You're pretty" thing. I'm sure the Capitol is just eating that up - along with Lilly's accusation of me trying to kiss him. The Capitol probably thinks there's some sort of budding romance going on.
That is as far from the truth as they can get, though. Yeah, sure, the thought has crossed my mind, but when I think deeper about it . . . it would be like having a relationship with Pascal's dog, Maxi. Still, I had felt guilty when Lilly accused me, as if I really had done something wrong.
But Moss and I are friends - simple as that. The end. If the Capitol wants to make it into something more, well, they aren't going to get me to go along with it. Not in a million years. No offense to Moss, of course.
All of a sudden, Lilly - who is sleeping beside him - gasps and attempts to sit up. She then groans, and lays her head back down on the ground. I see her face wince in pain, and awkwardly I ask "You okay?"
She only grunts in response. I start to feel worried - she's looking awfully pale. She tells me she feels like she's burning up, but I see her shivering. There is sweat on her brow, under her armpits and along her spine. It's soaked through her shirt.
"You need a bath," I say hesitantly. "Your sweat makes you feel colder. My mom used to tell me that."
She grins weakly, showing off a flash of white teeth. "My sister used to say that, too," she breathes shakily, shutting her eyes as if watching a memory play on the undersides of her eyelids. She says nothing more, but I grab one of our preciously full water bottles and poke her, none too gently, on the shoulder.
She opens her eyes to slits, but I awkwardly shove the water bottle in her face. I'm not used to taking care of people, period, let alone hanging around a girl like this – sick and dying.
Lilly's eyes seem unfocused, and she doesn't take the water bottle. I can't even tell if she sees it. Sighing, I grab it back hastily, as if my hands will shrivel up and turn black if they're too close to her. But with steady fingers, I manage to unscrew the lid ad hold the bottle up to her lips.
I'm expecting her to drink from it greedily, but she just lets it dribble over her lips, barely opening her mouth.
And that's when I know something's seriously wrong.
"Um . . . Lilly?" I say timidly. Although I still believe she'll just pop up, eyes bright and feverish, and snap at me for waking her . . . she doesn't. Instead, she lets her head flop down to the ground from where I had been holding it roughly by the chin.
"Oh God," I say under my breath, my eyes wide. "Lilly? Lilly - stay with me, now. Please?" I gasp, shaking her roughly. She lets out a small noise from the back of her throat, like a wounded animal, which is pretty much exactly what she is. I can only imagine that all the cameras are on us now - the last person in the tough Career-killer's life is the beauty with no apparent skill that she isn't exactly best buds with.
Well, that's not going to happen. Lilly's dying, and I want her to die among friends.
I'm in a panic - running my hands through my long wavy hair, chewing my bottom lip and blinking my eyes rapidly - but my movements feel slow, as if I'm underwater. Somehow, everything seems simple, sad and clear. Like a lonely river that's never seen a human or an animal, and yet, always has the sun on its back and the clearest water around.
I go to Moss first - he's the one who's closest to Lilly, and she is closest to him. They're practically brother and sister.
"Wake up!" I say, my voice scratchy. I clear my throat and try again. "Moss!" I frown, and I whack him on the head.
He sits up, startled, and his hands grapple on the ground next to him for his sword. I push it out of his reach, though, as his face winces and his back aches from the sudden movement.
"It's just me," I hiss, feeling more normal just by looking at him. His startled blue eyes look up straight into my green ones, and I try to convey my worry through our eye contact.
"Lilly's . . ." I start softly, but I can't seem to get out the word: dying. It's such a common word here in the arena, and yet, it's so difficult to say out loud.
Moss stares at me a moment longer, and then reaches in with his strong arms to pull me in for a hug. I'm surprised and end up squished uncomfortably to his chest, my arms pinned to my sides. He hugs me tightly for a second, and then shoves me away. I almost faceplant, but regain my balance after stumbling.
"Wake the others," he says in a husky voice, and turns away - but not before I see the feelings of pain, hurt, and loss in his eyes. I was right - Lilly is practically like the brother from home he talks of so fondly.
I stride over to where Araucaria and Nella are sleeping, underneath a low-hanging branch. They're close together, but not quite touching; I smile at the sight of them. There's some sort of energy in the air around them, like they really enjoy each other's company and they care for each other. It's nice to see two people - two teenagers in the Games - like that.
I push aside the branch and duck in to their little alcove, kicking both of them awake. Araucaria looks disgruntled at the rude awakening, but one look at my face and I think he knows something's up. All I do it point outside and they're both up in a flash.
As I stroll out behind them, I consider waking Aleah, but there's no point. She's already up and smirking at the crowd gathered around Lilly, standing a few paces off. I can't help but think that she doesn't know what was going on - sure, she's a bitch, but not only is Lillydying, she's essential to our battle plan.
Aleah spots me and subtly shifts closer, as if I wouldn't notice the shuffling of her feet. She's been following me like a shadow ever since she arrived. Okay, actually, she's not that bad . . . but still. It irks me: I like my alone time, and I don't like hovering around girls. It's awkward, and I always say the wrong thing.
Although, Aleah is different. I can actually stand her - and communicate with her without sounding like an idiot. She's a tomboy and she's insulting - like my guy friends. Sure, boys use their fists and not their words (unlike Aleah), but her insults slide right off my back. I can fight a guy, and I can deflect a girl - I've lived with my perfect sister Cleo all my life, after all. In a way, they're not much different.
Maybe in another life, Aleah and I could actually be friends.
"Are they all Lilly's lapdogs, or something? It seems that every time she breaks a nail, everyone has to faun over her," she snorts.
Okay, scratch that. She's too much of a bitch.
"She didn't break a nail," I say quietly, frowning. My eyebrows crease together, crinkling. "She's . . . she's dying."
A flash of something - regret? Annoyance? Remorse? - passes over Aleah's face, but it's replaced with a sneer so quickly I'm not even sure I saw it in the first place.
In an offhand manner, she says "Looks like we lost the bait for our trap." I punch her in the arm and shoot her a sharp glare. How could she be so insensitive?
Disgusted, I stomp forward towards Araucaria and Moss, who are kneeling over Lilly. Nella is standing a bit further away, flipping nervously through a tattered old book. Why the hell did she bring a book into the arena?
Moss is quiet, but his expression is desperate as he tries to shake Lilly awake and get her to drink water. I notice the pool soaking through the bandages around her abdomen; bandages we had replaced right before settling in for the nap. She's shaking more violently now, but she's managed to open her eyes just a fraction.
"I think she's dying of an infection, and severe blood loss," Araucaria says in a low voice, and I admire him for finding the courage to keep it steady. He runs his hands through his hair, and it sticks up in little fluffy tufts here and there. "I could have done something," he says so quietly that I almost miss it. "I could have - I could have saved her, back when she was hurt. This is my fault." His expression is dejected - and guilty.
"She would've died anyway," Aleah yells over at us, but no-one moves to acknowledge her. She has a point, though: Lilly's injury can't have been Araucaria's fault. He did the best he could - it just wasn't enough.
In one swift move, Araucaria turns and leaves. He stands next to Nella, avoiding looking at Lilly on the ground and instead keeping his weary eyes on Aleah.
I sit down beside Moss and start pulling up the grass in huge handfuls of dirt and green. That's how I feel right now: like something is pulling chunks of me apart.
Moss is talking to Lilly in a low, soft voice, coaxing her to get better. He tries to feed her a piece of dried fruit, but her crackled lips can barely part. There are tears running down Moss's cheeks now. I know I should offer consoling words or something, but the truth is I'm not good with that sort of stuff.
"You've been a great ally, Lilly," I whisper, touching her curled-up hand gently, "even though we've had our fights." I think she hears me. "You're going to a better place now, I'm sure - you can see your sister again. Remember, the one with the name that started with a C? Christie, or something?"
"Chloe," she rasps out, and the sound of her broken voice almost sends the waterworks running down my cheeks. I swallow, but notice the small smile that has now crossed Lilly's face.
"Right," I say. "You'll see Chloe again." My voice gains strength. "You can tell her all about your accomplishments, and what life is - was - like without her. You can tell her how you exacted revenge on the D-One girl, too." Why am I finding it so easy to talk to a dying person?
"Just . . . remember us when you get to that . . . that better place. We were all rooting for you, Lilly. Just know that." I slowly uncurl her fingers, before taking my hand away. "Just close your eyes - come morning, you'll be safe and sound."
Her chest seems as if it deflates - like a balloon. But she's still alive; still hanging on, if just barely. She's a real fighter, and I admire her for that.
I leave her alone with Moss, who is taking her death the worst of all of us. Well, not really. He's hardly accepting the fact that she's dying. "You'll be okay," he says in a choked voice, tears running tracks down his skin. "Just - just drink some water, Lil. You're like a sister to me, you know that? You can't just go. Here, some food will make you better. How 'bout I change your bandages? There are some - there are some more over here-"
I can't bear to watch Moss's grieving - it's too painful. He really is losing a sibling. I feel my mouth wobble and the corners of my eyes turn down - I'm crying. Hastily, I push myself outside of our little campsite and walk a little ways into the forest blindly.
I know I'm in the Hunger Games, but there's no way to prepare for seeing the death of someone you know. I don't recognize this feeling of mourning - it scares me. Lilly's imminent death scares me. It's just proof that no one here is safe.
Is it all really worth it? Sure, if you win, you keep your life - but on the inside, your soul is dead. The horror is way more real when you're in the actual arena, rather than watching it on a TV screen. Does anyone ever really come out of these Games alive?
I'm startled by a mournful, echoing, and terrifying sound - a cannon boom. I turn and sprint back to the campsite.
Lilly Cross, the female District 11 tribute, is dead.
Moss is now in a panic. He's shaking her crumpled (yes, that is unfortunately the best way to describe it) body violently, still trying to feed her the piece of dried fruit. "Have some water, too," he gasps as if he's short of breath.
I can't do anything but stand still. Araucaria, too, seems to be in a trance of horror, guilt still marring his features.
It's Aleah who finally steps in after a few long minutes of Moss trying to revive Lilly. He doesn't understand - doesn't accept - her death. Moss is in shock . . . we all are. But Aleah has kept a cool head, and she now roughly pushes Moss away from Lilly's body.
The hovercraft appears instantaneously. It reaches down and picks Lilly up gently, her body hanging limp and her hair trailing behind her as she is lifted up. She's then taken in to the hovercraft . . . and she disappears forever.
Everyone is silent. Aleah smirks. Moss cries. Nella looks at her feet awkwardly. Araucaria still looks guilty. And me? I just stand there, taking it all in.
We've officially lost a member of our alliance.
"Soooo anyway," Aleah's voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard, cutting through the thick silence, "I have a new plan. Since we've lost our bait," she looks disgustedly at the spot where Lilly lay a few moments ago, "we need someone new to volunteer for position as Career bait. I, of course, being the wonderfully horrible person I am, will take up that position. Hyre watched me threaten his precious little bitch, Onyx, and saw me as I carved my initials into her back. He'll see me, and he'll want to kill me. With any luck, the other Careers will follow," her grin turns snake-like.
"How can you even think about that right now?" I stutter, looking aghast. "We just - we just lost an ally! Can't you at least give us five minutes to mourn and grieve?"
Aleah levels her gaze at me. "Look, Blondie," she finally says after a long pause. "These are the Hunger Games. You hesitate, you lose your chance, and you die. Mourning isn't going to make the loss easier to bear. You need to ignore it."
I snort. "Says the wise shaman."
"Watch the sarcasm, moron," she retorts. "I'm the one who knows where the weapons are hidden. Without them, you're just a pretty face."
I subconsciously run my hand over my cheek, blinking at her. A movement catches my eye: Moss. He's gotten up from his crouching position on the ground, and the tears are gone. Instead, there's a new gleam to his eye: an angry gleam.
"I agree with Aleah," he says in a dead voice, and I'm so startled I take a step back. "Let's go kill some Careers."
Up and down, up and down
I will lead them up and down
I am feared in field and town
Goblin, lead them up and down
I grumble discontentedly as I follow Aleah through the darkening forest. She's taking me to the special spot where she had hid the weapons - and my double axe. The rest of my alliance, recovered from shock and thirsting for a way to let their anger out (that last one would only be Moss), is back at the campsite packing things up and preparing to ambush the Careers. The plan is that they'll hide in the trees and ambush them from above, while Aleah captures the attention of the Careers and leads them to the spot. If all goes well, I'm to head back to where the others are with the extra weapons Aleah's hidden.
My stomach gets queasy as I think about killing - but if it's the only way to save myself and my friends . . . well, let's just say the arena is not a place to have morals.
My mind flickers briefly to Lilly, but I push the thoughts back. She's a problem I'm not quiet yet ready to deal with. I need to concentrate here. Aleah is stomping through the forest a few paces ahead of me, yelling back at me every now and then and saying things like "If you don't hurry up your fat ass, Blondie, we won't get there until next year!" I resent the nickname, but never comment on her insults.
She leads me through the forest for a while, going in what seems to me like a random direction – but as much as I hate to admit it, Aleah knows what she's doing. I scowl at her back as we trudge along and the light from the sky dims, being replaced by the moon and stars. I don't know if they're real stars, but they're in the same patterns as back home.
Home. It seems like just a dream now.
I'm startled as Aleah and I stumble into a clearing. Well, not a very clearclearing – there are dark grey tombstones standing in sharp relief against the plain ground, casting long, creeping shadows. As I trudge past the first one, I notice with a start that it's got a name on it: Maia Spring, District 8.
Okay, that's creepy.
I continue marching on, hardly watching where I'm going as the tombstones pass my eyes. Nothing is inscribed on them except for the name of the tribute, and their district: Sapphire Tree. Rena Sage. Onyx Marshall. I recognize them all as tributes that are already dead.
A shudder passes through me, and I walk into a gravestone. Stumbling back, my eyes widen in horror as I read the name: Moss Dorian. But Moss isn't . . . he isn't . . .
That's when I look past his tomb and notice some of the others. Aleah. Nella. Roy.All people I know to be alive. There must just be graves for every tribute. The question is . . . are they buried here after they die? Last I checked, their bodies were sent back to their districts . . . right?
Aleah stands over by her tombstone, impatiently glaring at me as my eyes fall of the most horrifying grave of them all:Aella Dekas. Oh, God. I really didn't need to see that.
Trembling, I take careful steps towards Aleah. She smirks, and says "Cool down, wimp. You're not buried there. Yet."
I bare my teeth at her, but she doesn't notice because she leans down to her grave. It seems as if the earth around it has been dug up. She sifts around in it a little, before pulling a sword out of the ground, its sharp blade glimmering wickedly in the moonlight.
"So you hid all the weapons . . . here? Under your grave?" I ask. She just grins at me in response, and it's a snake-like, unpleasant smile.
A few more weapons come springing up out of the ground, being laid expertly aside by Aleah. There are all kinds of things – knives, spears, even a bow. But what I'm anxiously hoping for is my battle axe.
And although I know it is a bit sadistic, by face can't help but break into a smile when she finally unearths the dirty but deadly weapon from the ground.
I'm not longer a sitting duck.
The shaft is made of some kind of black Capitol metal, and the blades themselves gleam wickedly. They are silver, with no special designs or embellishments. The axe is a bit heavy for me, but in a way, it's good – the momentum of the heavy blade can be fatal when swung in the right direction.
I pick it up, wrapping my hands tightly around the shaft, but stop short when I feel the cool of another blade pressed against my throat. Looking up, I see Aleah standing over me, a shadowy look on her face.
"I can't have you offing me right here and now," she grumbles, as if she's just figured out that I now actually have a chance of fighting with her. The knife she's holding is steady, and she regards it coolly as she says "so I'll have to keep you under my watchful eye, Blondie, to make sure you don't stab me in the back now that you don't need me."
"Um, hello?" I say, in the "dumbass" voice I usually reserve for my older sister Cleo. "I do kind of need you, moron. Without you, there's no bait."
She eyes me for a second, leery, but then lowers the knife a fraction of an inch. "Fine. But no fancy moves."
"Whatever," I roll my eyes, and neglect to thank her for retrieving my blade. It's not like my thanks will melt her ugly heart of stone, anyway.
She re-buries the weapons we no longer need, but hands me a spear, a sword, and a knife. "Bring these back to your little friends," Aleah sneers. "You guys will need good weapons if we're to have any chance at besting the Careers."
"Thanks . . .?" I say, raising one eyebrow. Aleah turns away, looking at the dead and burned hedges that block her way to the Cornucopia. "I'll see you back in the clearing, okay?" I grumble. She nods and then takes off running without even glancing at me.
I sigh, blow a stray strand of blonde hair out of my eyes, pick up the weapons – God, these things are heavy – and then take off. I'm a fast runner, which is good – it means I'll get to the Cornucopia faster than Aleah and the Careers.
My breath feels like it's rattling in my lungs. It's so likely one of us will die – the question is, who? What if my battle axe ends up being a worse weapon than I thought? What if I'm no match for the Careers, and they kill me before I can put up a decent fight?
I'm in the clearing sooner than I want to be. It's just a simple place picked out for our attack. Our bags and supplies are hidden in a hollow tree trunk nearby, but the essentials – some food, iodine pills, and bandages – are safely tucked away in the various pockets of my fellow allies. I don't see them, hiding in the nearby trees, but they see me come into the clearing – and Moss is the first to jump down.
He's got his sword already, but I hold out the other weapons with open arms. Nella and Araucaria jump down, taking a sword and a spear respectively. Even if they don't want to kill (Nella doesn't really seem like the type), they've got to be armed. Just in case.
Moss takes the extra knife, tucking it into his belt for emergencies. I smile at him, trying to garner a reaction, but his face his dead. Something snapped in him when Lilly died, I'm sure of it. All he wants is to let his anger out – and that can be very, very dangerous in an arena where we're supposed to be killing each other.
We hear distant shouts coming from the direction of the Cornucopia, so we all scramble back up into the trees. I notice Nella and Araucaria sharing the same tree, while Moss stays on the lowest branch he can possibly find that's still safe. He's awfully eager. I just slink a little further away and climb up a thin sapling that doesn't offer much protection but is easy to leap out of.
The double axe feels heavy in my hands, and I can feel my palms sweating as I wipe the hair out of my eyes. My breath comes in slow, but loud, breaths, and my chest heaves with fright.
And all of a sudden, with no warning, she's there. Aleah bursts in to the clearing, glances around momentarily, and then climbs up into the nearest tree. Moments later Hyre – the District 2 Career – is right below Moss's tree, panting heavily and holding a sword tightly in his hands. He starts shouting angrily – he can't see Aleah and now he's lost his prey – but the angry words are cut off as Moss leaps down from the tree.
My hands shake as I watch the two of them go at it without a moment's hesitation. Both of them have trained, that much is obvious. They're both awfully good, and I'm afraid Moss will get hurt. Hyre's just about to harm my ally when Aleah jumps down and runs at Hyre as well, joining in the fray.
From where I'm still crouched in my tree, I can see Araucaria whispering quietly to Nella. She then flits off, leaping to another tree, and I know what's going on. They're going to look for Roy. They know the Career pack leader can't be far behind – and if he is, then he's probably got some nasty trick up his sleeve. Nella's probably going to scout out to see if there are any other Careers – or tributes – nearby as well.
I take my eyes off the battle as I jump out of my tree, landing hard on my side with an oof.Not the most graceful of landings, I know, but at least I didn't break anything.
When I make it to the clearing, I can barely see Moss's back disappearing through the trees. Hyre – or Aleah – must've taken off. The chase is on.
I sprint after them. I may be fast, but the undergrowth slows me down a bit. Still, I'm close enough to hear Moss shouting at nothing – he's lost the other two. Using my amazing tracking skills (just kidding, I'm hopeless) I decided to turn and sprint in the other direction.
It was a good – and bad – choice. Aleah comes barrelling at me, and I manage to sidestep just before she runs into me. But then she keeps going, and I turn and see that Hyre's chasing her.
That's when I realize that I'm now the only thing between the Career and his prey.
Joy.
Hyre sees me, and with a strangely remorseful look in his eyes, he takes a swing with his sword. But I'm fast enough to beat him – my double axe comes up in front of my body, protecting me, and the blade of the sword glances off it with a shriek of metal.
He swings again, and this time, I knock the weapon out of his hands. Although I'm in a life-and-death situation here, I can't help up laugh at the surprised expression on his face.
I swing the deadly blade at his head, but it just barely misses him as he reaches down to pick up his sword. My axe blade lodges itself in the tree beside me, and with horror I realized it's in too deep for me to get out quickly. Time for Plan B, which is simply . . .
Whipping around and punching Hyre right in the face as he stands back up.
Blood spurts from his nose and I feel a crackunder my fist. Huh. Looks like all those wrestling matches with Flynn and Pascal have really payed off.
Now he's angry, though.
He takes another swing at me, and this time, in order to avoid it, I have to stumble backwards. Losing my balance, I go crashing to the forest floor, landing hard on my poor butt. Leaves tangle in my hair and I taste dirt in my mouth as I roll over, avoiding the stab of the sword.
I can't quite place the look on Hyre's face as I scrambling further backwards, scratching my hands on rough tree root bark. He looks like he doesn't want to kill, but at the same time, he has to. Like . . . like he doesn't want to be the monster all Careers are made out to be.
He's still trying to stab me with his sword, though, so I'm taking no pity on him.
I finally get my footing and push myself up from the ground, intending to run away. But this time, the deadly weapon doesconnect with my body – the sharp edge of the metallic blade catches me right on my left hip, scraping deeply along the skin and bone.
I don't yell or scream in pain, like I always thought I would once I got hurt. Instead, I lose all breath and go tumbling to the ground again, hardly able to breathe. I feel like I can't move – like every muscle has stopped functioning. The wound on my hip is throbbing, and I grind my teeth together. I can feel the delayed scream of pain coming up now like vomit.
I don't even have the energy to turn and watch as Hyre plunges his sword into my back.
But he doesn't.
Instead, I hear two very similar grunts of effort, and then the thud of a body falling beside mine. Stop being a drama queen,I think to myself, and get back on your damn feet. Lilly's wound was worse, and she kept going.
The sad thing is that my inner voice is right.
I groan, pushing myself up from the ground. I can feel blood dribbling down the outside of my right leg, but I ignore the pulsing. It feels like my hip has its own heartbeat.
The body that fell beside me was Hyre's – but he's not dead, not by a long shot. No, it just turns out Aleah has come back around and is now attacking him herself. Who would've known she would save my life?
Just kidding. She probably doesn't give a rat's ass about me – she just wanted to hurt Hyre.
I stumble back to the tree that my axe is still sticking out of, and grab the handle. Using all the strength I can afford to spare, I yank it out, almost toppling over and losing my balance. Somehow I manage to straighten up, and I resolve to go help Aleah.
I turn towards her and Hyre, who are engaged in a full-out battle that somehow seems way more epic than the one I had. Still, I charge in with no regards to anyone's safety, and swipe with the axe.
Somehow I manage to make a connection with flesh.
It scrapes across Hyre's left forearm, leaving a long gash. It's not nearly as deep as the wound on my hip, but it's long and jagged. I pull the battle axe towards me, trying to regain control of the weapon – its heavy momentum can get out of control easily – but it costs me too much time. Hyre's sword scrapes across my cheek, from the outside corner of my right eye down through the tip of my mouth and across my chin.
This time, I scream and press my hand to my face. Blood is already seeping out of the wound, staining my fingers. It's not a mere scratch – from what I can feel, it's a deep, gaping, jagged line that will scar my face. Permanently.
There go my "good looks."
Someone pushes me. I can't tell if it's by accident, but I fall to the forest floor. By the time I manage to open my eyes again and spit the blood from my mouth, Hyre and Aleah are gone.
I feel numb. I can no longer feel the wound on my face, and it scares me. I try poking it, but I don't feel anything. The blood is flowing heavily, though, and I know I need help. Fast.
I take off in a random direction, looking for Araucaria, or Moss, or Nella, or even Aleah. Someone.God, I hope no one's died yet, but I feel so disoriented that I wouldn't hear the cannon even if it went off right in my ear.
I run along a forest path, between trees that bear no traces of human attack. Great job, Blondie,I think, you've gone and gotten yourself lost.
That's when I run straight into something – or someone. I go tumbling to the ground, and the someone – it's most definitely a person, I realize – holds a sword to my throat. This is it, I think, unable to look into the face of my attacker. This is how it's going to end.
When I do open my eyes, though, the only things I'm able to register are the flames lapping at the trees around me. The smell of smoke and the scorching heat are the same as they were during the Bloodbath.
The forest is on fire.
Three guesses as to who set it ablaze . . .
And somehow, I'm not dead yet.
