Hey everyone! I hope you've all had a good week. If you haven't checked out the SYOT Awards, I'm happy to announce that someone also nominated Passion for best female tribute! If you're interested in voting, you should check it out! I'm sure lots of you read many other SYOT fics, and might want to vote for your favorite stories/authors/tributes/etc. topic/198935/178581507/2/SYOT-Awards-2019
Thanks for reading!
Flux DuBois (14)- D8F
Once day finally breaks, and Raven stirs beside me, shaking off the dredges of sleep, I pick up my hatchet and silently jump on top of the rocks lining the coastline's cliff. The drop looks even farther in daylight, the whirlpool at the bottom even more treacherous. It hasn't let up at all, the water still swirling with the whooshing sound of a tropical storm.
I peer over the edge and let out a breath. Thimble is still there, trembling with cold and fear on his little rock ledge. He hasn't gotten desperate enough to jump into the water and risk getting sucked into the whirlpool, but neither has he gathered enough courage to try and climb up the side of the cliff.
"Thimble!" I call down. He looks up at me, his hair wet from the occasional splashes of water from the churning sea below.
"Flux!" he calls back in relief.
There's a long silence, both of us staring at each other, neither knowing what to say or how to proceed. I had hoped that in the light of day, the solution to the predicament would be obvious, or at least easier to see.
"Have you tried climbing up?" I finally ask.
"I can't," he says in a small voice. "Watch."
He picks up a tiny pebble from his ledge, eyes locked on some point in the cliff-face, and gently tosses up the pebble. The head of some kind of lizard creature suddenly appears from the cliffside, jaws snapping with a definitive snarl around the pebble and pulling it back into its lair.
"There's no way for me to get out!" Thimble yells, his voice trembling.
"It will be okay," I say, not sure if I believe my own words or not. "There's no use in worrying about it. Just stay calm and Raven and I will help you. Are you hungry?"
"Yes," he says, sounding almost ashamed. I drop down a half of a fish that Raven had caught yesterday, but the head of the creature in the cliff pops out again, catching the meat in its jaws. Then a second head appears and snaps at the first one's jaws, and they both retreat into the rock.
I sigh. "Well figure out how to get you some food, I promise!"
Thimble doesn't say anything, instead looking down at the whirlpool. Maybe he's contemplating a maritime escape after all. I don't take the time to ask, instead returning to Raven to tell him the news.
"We can't stay here for too long," he says grimly. "The Careers aren't the only tributes we need to worry about, and they could be walking along the shore like us."
"We can't leave him here," I state the obvious. "Maybe the whirlpool will die down after a while." Even as I speak, I doubt my words. It certainly doesn't seem like a natural whirlpool, and neither does the placement of it right beneath the lair of the mutt.
"We might as well do some more fishing," I say, eyes sliding to our fishing net on the dusty ground. "And see what happens."
Leto Larston (18)- D2F
The butt of my whip jams into my side with every step I take along the field, the belts that are fashioned to our outfits not designed to carry such strange weapons as my own. In the dawning light I can see that the grass of the prairie has truly been getting taller as we continued on, and that it wasn't just a figment of our imagination. The colorful flowers are becoming more numerous too, something that Marlowe has commented on many times, picking a few and sticking them in her golden hair. I can't tell if its an act for the Capitol or if she's really that much of an airhead, but it's not my judgement to make, I suppose.
"Be careful for holes in the ground," Cyprian says in his deep voice. We can't see much of the ground due to the tall grass, making this a perfect spot for Gamemaker or other tributes' traps. I nod to him in agreement and gratitude. I had a feeling when the Games began that Cyprian and I would be the last Career district pair left standing, and I wasn't wrong. I know that the two of us are the most competent, especially since Passion has been left without her protector and Marlowe seems more interested in killing than actually winning.
"These stupid bees are so annoying!" Passion exclaims, swiping one away from her face. "Are you guys even sure the traitor went this way?"
"He didn't go into the forest or away to the coast," I say confidently.
"What about those hills? They're the obvious choice because you can hide-"
"He didn't go there either," Cyprian says in an assured voice.
"Am I supposed to just take your word for it?"
"Cyprian's word is good," I say, sensing a conflict. We don't need to start fighting amongst ourselves. "This is the way Jeremy went."
Cyprian meets my eyes and nods in return, just like I did earlier. I've trained with Cyprian since I was ten years old. We're both here to bring glory to District Two, and if we can't trust each other then who can we trust?
"I think I found something!" Marlowe shouts up ahead, and I roll my eyes in annoyance at her loud tone, sure to scare away any tributes. She hasn't been walking with us, but rather ahead of us like a bloodhound sniffing out an escaped convict.
"Is it a pair of reins?" Passion mutters. "Cause I think you might need some." I'm glad I'm not the only one to notice Marlowe's strange behavior. The three of us start jogging to meet her anyway, and I'm pleasantly surprised to see what she found.
"A trail!" Marlowe supplies happily. The path of flattened grass sure seems like a trail, and a very human-sized one. The person didn't seem to be cutting down the grass or smoothing it on purpose, but just trying to step through it, possibly trying to cover their tracks by pushing some of it back up.
"It seems we've caught a scent of someone," I say, grinning.
Blossom Urakaka (15)- D9F
The night on the mountainside was cold and difficult. It seems the air grows chillier the farther up I go, and the animals and plants less numerous. Perhaps I made a mistake in deciding to climb up, but at least I can be sure that not many tributes will dare to follow me. I'll be as safe as a panther hidden in a tall tree, hoarding the meat I captured while on the ground.
I eat my last banana and drink some water while sitting on the chilly rock surface, staring up at the clouds that await me. I contemplate cooking myself some meat, but I should save it for later. I gather up my things in my backpack and grab my walking stick, starting up the mountain again. I have much more energy after drinking some water, and I'm grateful to whichever Capitol aristocrat thought me interesting enough to give money to. I wouldn't like to die yet.
The mountain is not necessarily difficult to climb. The surface is angled, with rocks jutting out, but not too steep to walk. At some point I have to put away my staff due to the rocky ground, but even if I fall, I would simply tumble down rather than dropping straight down. An hour or so after I started climbing again, I'm almost at the top. The clouds appear to be getting closer and closer, and I start to wonder if this is all a trap, and if the clouds are actually a poisonous fog or some other harmful mist.
But when I reach a fluffy cloud, they part around me and dissipate into water. I keep climbing, only able to see the ground, but nothing ahead of me. The temporary blindness makes me anxious, but when I emerge on the other side, my mouth drops open.
It seems I've found a hidden paradise within the arena. Built on the peak of the mountain is what looks like an elaborate chamber, without a ceiling, that opens to the blue and sunny sky. The walls are made of marble and inlaid with gold, with intricate columns on either side. Streams of water flow through the floors, lush patches of grass with trees that are laden with fruit line the columns, and there is even a pool in which to swim.
I laugh to myself as I let my backpack drop to the marble floor and rush to a plum tree, picking one of the ripe fruits and savoring in the taste. It seems I won't have to worry about food and water any longer. I've gotten what I wanted when I volunteered for the Hunger Games- a pleasant place to spend my final days, and maybe, just maybe, survive to the end.
Jeremy Caulfield (16)- D10M
The boy from Nine, Alder, is pleasant enough company. Not exactly talkative, but he doesn't seem like a threat, especially with his injury. Though it seems to be mostly healed, he has trouble turning to the left, or else he grabs his waist in pain. Last night I had asked him who gave it to him, and he had told me it was the reddish-haired boy from Two. I had sighed and settled further into my sleeping bag, wondering if Cyprian ever felt as trapped in his life as I once did, chasing after a reward that comes with killing other people. Or if he simply feels nothing, or even pleasure at the thought of killing, deep under his mysterious exterior.
Alder hadn't tried to harm me in the night, as he knew he wouldn't. He seems surprised that I didn't try to kill him, though. He eyes me suspiciously as I take out some breakfast of dried apricots and nuts.
"Would you like some?" I ask.
He raises an eyebrow, dark eyes inquisitive. He seems ready to reject me, but he must not have any of his own food left, because he takes some of mine with apprehension. "Does this mean I owe you?" he asks, voice deep.
"Of course not," I say, munching on some walnuts. "We'll help each other out."
Alder looks increasingly concerned. "Help each other? I don't know what you think this is, but we're in a competition. A deadly one."
"Yes," I say cheerfully. "And it's nice to have company that aren't murderers."
Just as the words leave my mouth, I hear a strange tinkling sound above us. We both look up to the silver parachute, which slowly descends into my lap with a final clink. I quickly open it, eager to see what's inside now that the Capitol knows I'm on my own, and a formidable opponent to the Careers. But what the container reveals to me is something I never could have imagined.
"What is it?" Alder asks me, trying to peer inside.
I grab the knife and let the container fall to the ground. A note is attached to its hilt; the hilt that is inscribed with the familiar initials: MC. MaryAnn Carroway. My sister, who died after volunteering. This was her prized knife that father gifted to her on her ninth birthday, when she first started training at the Academy. She took it everywhere with her for luck, but rarely actually used it. While she was in the Games and after her death, it sat on our mantle in the dining room, a constant reminder of the family member that would never return. With shaky hands, I reach for the note.
I know you probably can't forgive the both of us, but we are so, so sorry. We love you, no matter what. Good luck! Win for her.
I can hardly believe it. My parents really sent me something, after I ran away from One and didn't speak to them for years. And they didn't just send me anything, but my sister's prized knife. With a message of support.
"A knife?" Alder asks skeptically. "Don't you already have a sword?"
I don't answer, still taking my time to examine the blade. It's sharp, and could certainly be used in combat, but I slip it into my belt with reverence. I reach up to my token, the only thing I took with me from One when I ran away. The necklace contains a picture of MaryAnn and I together before she died. I wish I could look at it, but I don't want Alder asking questions, or more importantly the camera picking up an image of me with a former tribute from a different district.
My parents must have paid a lot, even calling in favors, to convince my mentors to send me this knife. Are they glad I deserted the Careers, or worried about my chances? Or do they not are about me at all, and are just trying to get into my good graces if I win? I can't let myself simply believe that we will be a big happy family if that happens. I can't get my hopes up only to have them be crushed.
Alder thankfully seems to realize I don't want to talk about the knife, and doesn't seem to care that much in the first place. We pack up our little camp together, and start our journey again. We walk in comfortable silence, and Alder seems to have accepted that our teamwork will help us in the end.
Logan Wheeler (18)- D6M
After camping another night near the dragon and its lair, we're now headed back to the Cornucopia for another raid. Despite our relative success thus far, I can't help but feel like we're running in circles. How will we be able to rival the Careers as the tributes dwindle off, if we can't even find water for ourselves? Tributes who raid the Cornucopia are always caught eventually, since they become reliant on supplies that aren't theirs. I wanted to make an alliance that could protect itself, and even stave off the Careers for the first part of the Games. But instead half of us died in the bloodbath, and our chances of independent survival are getting dimmer and dimmer everyday.
Despite all this, neither Volt nor Pagani seem worried. Volt is cheerful as ever, even whistling softly as we walk among the rolling hills, but not without keeping a keen eye on our surroundings for any enemies. Pagani is just as self-assured, her face blank as usual but her body loose as she walks. I can only hope that their confidence will aid us in survival, not make them reckless.
I can't imagine giving up on something back in Six like we did here with the dragon. The gang always called me too strong-headed, but now I'm wondering if I lost my spark.
"Pagani and I should be the ones to rob the Cornucopia this time," I say definitively in my leader voice. Pagani nods, but Volt has a twisted grimace on his face.
"I'm perfectly capable of stealing," he says.
"You went last time," I reason. "We should split the risk,"
Volt perhaps feels a little useless without being our thief, but a real gang of friends splits the duties amongst themselves equally. Volt might not be a strong fighter, but he's smart and I don't want to lose him because he got used to raiding, and got reckless.
"How many Careers were there when you went before?" Pagani asks, the look in her eyes maybe a little too eager.
"Three, I think," Volt says. "It might have been just two. It was dark."
"We should only take things that are unguarded," I remind her. "We aren't looking for a fight."
"Well, maybe we should," is all Pagani says.
Luna Everett (12)- D11F
This is my first time seeing the ocean. Even though I'm sure the Gamemakers have messed with it, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm glad I got to see it before I died, because I'm surely going to die. And Thorn probably will too, if his quiet rambling is any indication. I'm not sure what time of day it is, or how long we've been walking. Did we just discover the water this morning? Oh no, that was yesterday. We spent a night in the trees beside the coast, then set out to walk along it, hoping to find fresh water.
Still no luck.
The sun is hot above us, and only the water provides any relief. It takes all my willpower not to allow some of the salty liquid into my mouth, no matter how much I want to. Every few moments, I have to remind myself that the water isn't safe to drink. Thorn speared a fish earlier, and we ate it raw like a pair of animals, unspeaking.
We stopped walking after that, and I now sit in the shallow water, feeling the tide gently drag me forward and backward, my arms and legs caressing the sand. Thorn is sitting on the beach, writing and drawing in the sand with his fingers. He doesn't seem too concerned, but that might be the dehydration. I, however, don't feel helpless like perhaps he does. I know we could turn around this situation if we would raid the Cornucopia. The Careers can't bring all of their water with them, and there is bound to be bottles of it, along with iodine and ways to boil the salt water, making it safe to drink. The only reason we haven't done it is because Thorn is being an idiot.
Suddenly feeling the urgency of the situation, I let the tide push me up to Thorn on the sand. He looks much different than he did in our interviews. His skin is sun-burned, and I imagine mine is as well. His hair sticks out in every direction, eyes focused on his writing as he mutters to himself.
"Thorn!" I say loudly to get his attention.
He turns to me, startled, like he forgot I was there. "Oh, hey. Find some cool seashells or something?"
"No, I didn't find any seashells," I say, suddenly fuming. "We need to go to the Cornucopia or we'll die."
"Well, death is inevitable," Thorn sighs, looking up at the sky. "I don't know if you've figured that out yet. Whether it's here, or somewhere else, years from now… it will happen."
"Well, I don't want to die now!" I yell, not caring who might hear me. Perhaps we're already dead, and we're fighting about nothing. It seems like it, in a way. The sun is too bright and the sea is too blue, the sand too perfect. Maybe we're already in the afterlife.
Thorn groans, standing up. I slowly follow, stumbling slightly.
"It seems no one thinks we're worthy of some lousy water," he says, squinting at the sky again.
"It's because they know we could steal it!" I shout. "Come on, Thorn, you know I'm right!"
He peers into my eyes, and I see for a moment his real hesitation. It's not that he's stupid, or even lazy, but just that he's afraid.
"It's like you said," I say, softer now. "We'll die no matter what. If we die trying to get water, then at least we'll have gone down fighting. Not just sitting here on a beach waiting for death."
He takes a long look at me, then slowly nods. "You're right." The words are drawn out of him painfully, like he's admitting something to himself, not just to me. He picks up his stick spear, and I grab my own. We silently start walking, with nothing else to say and no energy to say it. I glance down at the sand, and a picture of an old woman in a rocking chair is meticulously drawn. The water washes it away just a moment later.
Alder Kasha (15)- D9M
I lightly apply medicine to my wound while Jeremy waits for me just a few paces ahead. It's nice to have company, though I would never admit it. He seems like a good guy; not worried about stupid things. He hasn't mentioned school or even money at all, just his family. We're both just trying to keep our families alive.
"I hope we haven't been walking in circles," Jeremy comments as I catch up to him. "All of this looks alike."
"We might be," I grunt. Not that it matters. As long as we keep moving, then we'll be fine.
Besides, it seems the flowers of the meadow are becoming larger and larger the farther we walk, their bright color and sweet scent mocking our situation. We're lucky that Jeremy has enough food and water to last us several days, since there aren't any sources except for locusts and the occasional small animal. Jeremy filled up my empty canteen with some water, which I take a sip out of now, trying to ignore my parched throat. We need to conserve what we have.
Jeremy has been quieter since receiving his gift, but that's okay with me. I'm just glad that we have two weapons, one for each of us if things get rough. Even if Jeremy has both of them on his belt, and I have nothing but a spool of twine.
"Do you hear that?" Jeremy asks suddenly, stopping in his tracks. The look in his eyes makes me stop as well, scanning the horizon.
"Another mutt?" I ask. The cow might not have been dangerous, but there's no telling what else could be waiting for us. And Jeremy told me about his encounter with the giant spiders before he met me.
Jeremy abruptly drops to the ground, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me with him. I hold my breath as he carefully parts the green grass, the bright flowers, and the occasional hopping bug with his hands. I peer through the stems of the plants to see my worst nightmare: the Careers, quietly stalking through the grass, just on the horizon. It seems they haven't seen us yet, due to Jeremy's hearing.
"We need to move," I hiss through my teeth. They're headed straight for us, perhaps even following our trail.
"They'll see," is Jeremy's grunted response. He's tense as well, his hand on his sword. He slowly slides his gifted knife out of his belt and hands it to me with so much as a glance. I take it and look down at the hilt, where the letters MC are carved. It's a fancy knife, not one that his mentors would have given him on their own.
I glance up at Jeremy's taut face. Perhaps he's more complicated than I thought.
"I'm fast," I tell him quietly. "I could go up to them and-"
"Shhh!"
The Careers are getting closer now, all of the four remaining members. They quietly pick through the grass, the boy with red hair getting closer and closer.
"Jeremy," he says in a deep voice. "We know you're here somewhere. We've been following you."
"Come out and fight us like a man!" the golden girl from Four yells.
I feel Jeremy tense beside me, and he pushes me behind him. "Run," he tells me under his breath.
I don't hesitate, standing and immediately sprinting in the opposite direction. I hear grunts of surprise and pain behind me, glancing behind to see that jeremy has jumped out to slice Cyprian's thigh open. Cyprian doesn't make a noise, instead, using his own sword to counterattack. Jeremy's sword blocks his with a loud clang. It's the only noise in the otherwise silent landscape, all quiet except the sounds of insects chirping.
Cyprian's allies are standing and watching as the battle continues, Cyprian easily pushing back jeremy with his blows.
"Go get that one," his district partners hisses to the spoiled girl from One. The dark-haired princess looks up at me with hatred in her eyes, though I haven't done anything to her.
I think about running, like Jeremy said, but as the battle between him and Cyprian, and now his partner Leto, rages on, their grunts and footfalls and clashing metal weapons the only sounds in the air, golden Marlowe watching on, and watch Passion unsheathe her throwing axe… I know it won't matter if I stay or run.
I grip my knife tightly, thrusting forward and catching Passion off-guard, as if she didn't expect me to have a weapon.
"If that's the way you want to play it, little parasite," she snarls, pulling out her mace instead. "Come here!"
I hear a scream of pain of Jeremy, but another screech of metal on metal that lets me know he hasn't gone down yet. I dodge Passion's mace, barely getting out of the way before it sticks into the grass instead, coming away with bits of green and dirt stuck into the spikes. She gives an animalistic growl as she advances, this time aiming for my outstretched arm, and this time, she doesn't miss. The heavy mace knocks into my hand holding the knife, and it drops to the ground, as do a few of my fingers.
I whimper in pain, realizing my end might truly be soon. I thought it would be different. Not so sudden, not so quiet, and not with an ally that tried to save me.
"Alder-!" I hear Jeremy's voice gurgle, and I watch from behind Passion as he tries to stumble toward me, bleeding from his arms and somewhere from his head. Cyprian shoves his sword into his belly before pulling it out, and Jeremy topples to the ground with a quiet groan.
"Finish off this one," Leto orders as Jeremy's cannon shot fills the air.
"Happily," Marlowe says with a grin, stalking toward me.
"He's mine!" Passion snaps, and her mace comes down onto my head.
I'm still conscious for a few moments, feeling the soft grass and hearing the pleasant sounds of the insects, before it all fades away.
Caillou Wight (17)- D3F
The berries that I found are not only good for eating, but also something that I'm possibly even more grateful for… art.
Or at the very least, camouflage. I didn't even realize how much I missed drawing swirls on my arms with my pen at my school desk, blocking out the world and focusing my on my project. A similar thing happens now, as I smear the berries over my arms, sleeves rolled up, and eventually even my face. I'm sure the berries are dark enough that I could pass as a part of the ground, hidden amongst the leaves if anyone came too close. If I kept quiet, no one would notice me.
I hear two cannon shots go off in the distance, surprising me slightly. I pause for a moment before tossing some more berries in my mouth. I'm simultaneously pleased and tired of the sweet taste. They keep me full, but I do wish for some variety. I set a trap this morning for an animal to eat, but I have to wait a few more hours before checking it, lest I scare away all of the prey.
I streak some berry up one arm, like dark purple warpaint. I grab some leaves and chew them up, then rub them onto the uncovered spots, creating a blue and green striped pattern on my arm. Faint, but still noticeable. It makes me smile. At least I am not completely bored here in the arena, all alone.
I should try and find water, but I loathe to leave my berry tree now that I've found it. What if there are no other consistent food sources aside from the occasional lizard? Of what if there is no water source? It's unlikely, but not impossible.
I grab my mirror beside me and look in my reflection, at the juice-covered face with eyes staring back at me. Without my hair, I look more like my grandfather, at least in the pictures of when he was younger. I remember he was the first person to comfort me when I was sent home from school as a child for not listening and doodling instead. I wonder if he's proud of me from beyond the grave.
A sudden rustling noise interrupts my thoughts. I feel my consciousness return to the earth, leaving dreamland and focusing on the edge of the trees, barely visible from my location. I can see humanoid figures there, walking into the forest. I quickly hide in the brush surrounding the tree. I wish I could climb it, but that would simply alert them to my presence.
The group is getting closer. There's three of them- the pair from Six and the guy from Five. "We'll be less visible if we approach from the trees," the guy from Five is saying. I remember his voice from training- confident, charismatic, suave. Easy to mimic. If they keep on their trajectory, they'll walk right past me. Which means they'll probably see the berries and stop to gather some, even make a camp here. I have to keep them away.
There's only one thing I can think of that would ward off a group of well-prepared tributes. I start to growl, quietly at first, but getting louder the closer they come. I've heard many wolves and other vicious animals other the years watching the Games, and I combine some of the sounds to make a terrifying snarl. I gradually raise my voice, and the guy from Five leading the others stops and pales.
"Do you hear that?" he asks fearfully.
"A dog?" the girl asks skeptically.
As if replying to her, I let out a mighty roar, then quickly make practiced sounds of footsteps on the forest floor. The guy from Five immediately runs out of the forest, followed by his allies. I let the footsteps noises quietly fall off, but I keep a low growl in my throat until they completely disappear.
I have another thing to thank my grandfather for- teaching me how to mimic.
I grab my supplies and quickly shimmy up the tree, feeling berries burst beneath my hands and feet. That was a close call, but at least I know that my mimicking is convincing.
The tributes don't return, probably taking a different route to wherever they're going. I eat some berries while I wait for time to pass, eventually coming down from my tree and practicing making fire with my mirror. A few leaves start to smoke after several tries, and I grin to myself in victory. It looks like I won't be eating any more raw meat.
Thimble Brier (16)- D8M
I'm hungry, thirsty, scared, and hot, but boredom is what gets to me the most here on my tiny ledge. Even Raven's company from above me, evidenced by the occasional cough or exchange, is not enough to keep my mind off my situation. It seems comical, which only makes me feel worse. My death will be a laughing moment for the Capitol, and then they'll forget me and move on like they have with all the others.
Flux tried passing me some more food, but to no avail. The creature that resides in the cave just above my ledge won't let anything pass, not even rocks, which it grabs and pulls back into its lair. I contemplate several ways of how I could kill it with my machete, which is the only thing I had with me when I fell, but if my attempt fails, then it will steal the weapon from me and I will be left defenseless. It seems like I've already been given a death sentence, and now all I can do is wait for it to finally come to pass.
I draw a circle in the dust on the ledge, flinching as the spray from the whirlpool below me gently hits my face. I'm up far enough that I'm not getting constantly wet, but the ocean is unforgiving. I wonder what will kill me first- hunger, hypothermia, or dehydration. If I was an affluent Capitol citizen watching me onscreen from their plush couch, I would bet on dehydration.
I clasp my token in my palm, the locket around my neck that Rita gave me before we parted. I open it slightly, revealing my parents' faces. I feel my face crumple at the sight, but I try not to cry. They would want me to keep fighting if they were still alive. That's what I always did- anything I had to to survive.
"Thimble!" I hear above me. I look up to see Flux and Raven's faces over me, in shadow due to the overhanging sun.
"Still here," I call back up.
"We've been thinking," Raven says, voice weak but still audible. "That you should try and climb down."
"To where?" I ask incredulously.
"Just to look around," Raven says. "There might be something to help you. Like another way up the cliff."
"There's nothing!" I say, distressed. "And what if I fall in!"
"So what if you fall in?" Flux asks with a shrug. "Then you swim to the beach."
"I can't swim," I admit, shouting it as if that would make it less embarrassing.
"Neither can I," Flux calls back, surprising me. "But it's your only shot, and if you die then you don't have to worry about it anymore."
I scoff, pulling my knees up to my chest and shivering at another spray of saltwater. She might be right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. "Fine!" I say, standing and looking down around the ledge for places I could grab. There aren't many other rocks that jut out of the cliff face, just smooth, hard rock. The sounds of the whirlpool below me are disconcerting, and I feel a little lightheaded from hunger and dehydration. I gently try to lower myself onto a rock jutting out of the surface of the cliff, but it breaks off and leaves me hanging for a split second before I pull myself back up.
"I can't do it!" I cry up to my allies. "There's no way!"
Flux disappears immediately, either upset at me or just in general, but Raven stays and reassures me. "Everything will be fine, Thimble. We'll figure out a way to get you back up. Just hang tight."
I shiver as I resign myself back to my fetal position on the rock.
Thorn Guerra (16)- D11M
Luna and I are practically delusion as we make our way to the Cornucopia. I start wondering if me hearing my grandmother's voice from the ocean water was really all just a hallucination, and I'm starting to go crazy. The thought fills me with intense dread that I didn't know I was capable of feeling. If I don't have my mind, then is that like being dead? I didn't think I would mind dying, but I never thought of it like this before.
Luna walks slowly beside me, both of us watching out for any threats, but I'm not sure we would be able to stop them if we encountered them anyway. I use my sharpened stick to walk, hoping that it will be enough to fend off anyone we come across. As we approach the Cornucopia, a mere hour or so after setting out from the beach, I see nothing but a faint golden glint in the distance. Luna walks more purposefully, but I make her stop for a moment while I check out the horizon. There doesn't seem to be anyone heading toward us, but maybe the Careers haven't noticed us yet.
"We need to be careful," I say weakly. She sighs, but stays put as I creep forward. I can see gray and black piles of supplies, but no glint of silver weapons. They're probably all inside the horn, safely stored where it is most dangerous to go. Luna quietly follows behind me until we're within hearing range of the Careers… but I don't hear a thing except the whistling wind.
"Let's hurry," Luna whispers to me, and I nod. We both quickly dive in. I open every backpack to look for water, but it all seems to have been taken away. I can tell Luna is having similar problems judging by her frustrated grunts.
"Stay out here," I tell her, heading cautiously to the mouth of the golden horn. I wonder for a split second if the Careers are waiting in hiding for us, but that would be unlikely. They have no reason to be afraid of the two of us, dehydrated and weak.
I finally see the pile of water bottles, all stacked neatly at the edge of the mouth. I gratefully grab one and open it, drinking as fast as I can. The water is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, despite the metallic, mineral taste and the heat. I grab another bottle for Luna, feeling my own drip down my face. I toss one on the ground beside her, and she realizes what it is with a joyful shout.
"Yes!" she exclaims, doing the same as me and pouring it down her throat. I grab as many bottles as I can, shoving them a backpack I found. I leave behind all the heavy, unnecessary supplies, but I do grab a throwing knife and a curved one for combat. I hand one to Luna and drink the rest of my water. It seems too good to be true, that the Careers would leave their supplies unprotected like this. Maybe they're also in a nasty situation right now, and needed everyone to help. Whatever the reason, it seems the Universe has decided to play a cruel joke on them instead of us. We won't be dying today.
"Thorn, look!"
I glance up from where I was rummaging through the supplies for some food, hoping to find something lightweight to take with us. There's movement on the edge of where the forest meets the rolling hills. "Let's go!" I hiss, grabbing Luna's arm and hoisting her up. We start running, and I can hear the shouts of the other tributes behind us.
"It's the pair from Eleven!" I hear a feminine voice say. "Hurry!"
"Hurry what?" a guy asks. "They're not Careers."
I glance back to see the pair from Six, the girl with dirty blonde hair eyeing us hungrily while her district partner pulls her away. "The Careers aren't here. Let's get what we came for."
The two of them enter into a heated hushed argument, and I turn back around to catch up to Luna. It seems we weren't the only ones who thought to raid the Cornucopia, and perhaps the Universe will end up playing a cruel trick on us after all. But if everything is random, then I guess some things will turn out okay for us.
Volt Halvorsson (18)- D5M
Logan and Pagani left twenty minutes ago, and I know my time is running short. If my plan is going to work, then I need to act fast, and find something that will set it into motion. The sun is setting, making it harder to see, but I know I saw something here the last time we wandered this way, but I couldn't retrieve it with Pagani and Logan with me. I just have to find it again…
There it is! I reach out to grab the plant, before thinking better of it and wrapping the end of my sleeve around my hand before touching it. The azalea flower is bright pink and beautiful, on a lone shrub at the edge of the woods. It might seem unremarkable to others, but I paid special attention to poisons in training, and I know it is anything but harmless.
I grab several flowers and carefully store them inside the warm hat we nabbed from the Cornucopia during the bloodbath. No one has worn it yet, and no one will be looking inside it. Neither Logan nor Pagani will know that the key to the end of the Careers is in my little backpack… and perhaps their own end, if they survive past the final eight.
I make my way back to the spot where my allies left me, by the tree I met Cyprian at before. Part of me wishes he would show up, but I can't even see a faint outline of anyone in the distance, probably due to the setting sun. Hopefully tomorrow night he will be able to meet me on a nightly patrol.
Pagani and Logan return not long after, huffing with adrenlaine and what looks like discontent. "What happened?" I ask smoothly.
"The Careers weren't there," Pagani says bitterly. "But there were two other tributes, and Logan wouldn't let us go after them! We could be two kills farther into the Hunger Games right now, but they got away!"
I raise an eyebrow at Logan, and he stands tall, clearing his throat. "We don't want to cause trouble," he says. "That guy from Elelven probably learned how to fight in training, and they might have had other allies waiting for them in the treeswho could have ambushed us."
"We could have taken them," Pagani hisses, stalkign away into the darkening night.
I glance to Logan, who looks deflated. "I trust you," I announce. "But we also want to win, don't we?"
He hesitates, and I know why- he doesn't want to say it in front of the Capitol. He's soft, and afraid of killing someone that isn't a Career. He wants to stay pure and nice and honest. As if that's even possible in the Hunger Games.
The Panem anthem starts playing, and we both look up to the sky to see who had died during the day. For a moment, just as I was earlier when the cannons went off, I'm worried that I might see Cyprian's face and my plans will all be ruined, but I don't let anything show on my face. And I had nothing to worry about anyway. It's only the boy from Nine, who Cyprian wounded in the bloodbath. Maybe he finally died of his wounds. The other tribute is Jeremy, Cyprian's ally. Hopefully the alliance isn't starting to fall apart for whatever reason…
"A Career," Logan says grimly. "Good riddance."
Passion Mavros (17)- D1F
After killing our adversarsies, the group morale has improved signifificantly. Even Cyprian lets out a rare smile as he watwches Marlowe twirl around her bladed baton, the swooshing noise incredibly satisfying. She cuts through blades of grass and watches them fall to the ground with a smirk.
"We should go hunting for some others tonight," she says, but Leto shakes her head.
"We need to rest and then decide what to do in the morning."
Marlowe huffs. "You decided you were the one in charge? Faroud was right, you're too stiff."
The mention of Faroud makes my blood run cold for a moment. It's hard to believe he's dead, just like it's hard to believe that Callum is d… gone. I can't quite admit it to myself yet. Marlowe doesn't seem affected by her partner's death, but she's also deadly in her own right. I know I can win on my own. I just killed another tribute… but in a battle against one of my current allies? Would I really win without Callum's help?
"What's that?"
We all look to where Marlowe is pointing, somewhere in the distance. It's hard to see through the tall green grass, and even harder since we only have the moonlight to guide us. But I can still make out some kind of mass, moving slowly. I recall the bear that killed Faroud and I stop in my tracks, watching the others draw their weapons.
"Stay close," Cyprian orders, taking the lead on the attack. He creeps forward, but what emerges from the grass isn't a dangerous beast, but a large cow, brown and white with large black eyes surrounded by long eyelashes. She blinks at us and mooes softly.
Leto scoffs and puts her whip back on her belt. "Come on, let's move on."
"Can't we at least have some fun first?" Marlowe asks with a maniacal laugh, twirling her baton around again. She steps toward the heiffer, but I stop her with a foot in front of hers.
"Just leave it alone," I say, in a tone that leaves no room for debate.
Marlowe looks at me in disbelief. "Excuse me? I can't kill this one cow? Why not?"
"There's no reason to," I say hotly, feeling my temper rise. "Do you really want to cross me on this, fish bitch?"
She seems taken aback by the insult, eyes narrowing. But she puts her baton back on her belt, and we watch as the heifer moos quietly, slowly trotting away with some kind of fly stinging her back. It's a strange beast to have in the arena, but it doesn't need to die today. I ignore Marlowe as she huffs in annoyance to the others. I might not have been able to save Callum or even Faroud… and I might have killed some boy today, but at least I can save this cow.
The Fallen:
16th) Jeremy Caulfield (16)- D6M- created by domgk115. Killed by Cyprian. Killing Jeremy was not an easy decision. He's such an interesting character who truly wanted to help others, a real sweet person in the Careers alliance. But I knew that after he escaped the Careers, because of how angry and upset they were, they would stop at nothing to kill him. And I knew he wouldn't leave Alder to fend for himself, but instead fight to the death for his friend. I hope he finds peace with his sister in the afterlife, and that his parents have learned a lesson.
15th) Alder Kasha (15)- D9M- created by PaxZola. Killed by Passion. Alder is another character whom I loved, which makes this even harder. He was a hardhead, but deep down all he cared about was his family. I'm glad he got to spend time with a true friend before he died, and that they fell together during the Games. Besides, I think Alder wouldn't be too upset considering his district partner Blossom is still alive, and if she wins, then his family would still receive the extra food of a winning district.
Kill Stats:
Tied for Most Kills:
Passion Mavros (17)- D1F- two kills: Sparrow and Alder
Cyprian Clay (18)- D2M- two kills: Caiden and Jeremy
Faroud Pistris (18)- D4M (dead)- two kills: Dylan and Rylex.
Tied for Second-Most Kills:
Leto Larston (18)- D2F- one kill: Rai.
Marlowe Bahari (18)- D4F- one kill: Terra.
Pagani Chevy (16)- D6F- one kill: Callum.
I hope both the creators of Jeremy and Alder aren't upset with me! I have been in constant contact with them and I loved both of their tributes, so it pains me to kill them off… but that's the name of the game, I guess. I get really attached to the tributes, but we're reaching that point where I have to let go!
Let me know your reactions, your predictions, your opinions, your reactions to the deaths!
Special thanks to MaxMan667 for proof-reading this chapter!