Chapter 37- Day 11
Rusty Steele, D2F:
I'm kissing him again. His mouth his hard and his body is tense. His hands are pressed into my hair, as his mouth moves to my neck. Finally, a chance to breathe. This entire thing is a waste of time, but that doesn't mean I plan on stopping anytime soon. I like kissing. Like it more than trying to talk to him, than trying to explain what happened to me yesterday. All around a pleasant distraction.
He was the first to pull back, "we should probably go back to the cornucopia," he was out of breath, whispering in my ear. I nod, pushing him off of me and getting to my feet. My entire body feels heavy with lack of sleep. But that doesn't hinder our path in any way. We were following one of the many small rivers leading back to the cornucopia.
We kept our distance, staying far from each other. He looked dead inside, big dark circles under his eyes. I probably don't look much better. This has been a long two weeks.
Finally, we got back. No one was there. Shame, but you can't always get lucky. I can't stop moving, fidgeting and pacing. I watch Winstead as I do. And I got to thinking, something dangerous for everyone.
I couldn't kill him, I tried last night and where did it get me? Making out with someone else's boyfriend. Granted, his girlfriend is dead and could hardly complain, but he still thought of her. Still loved her. I've never truly loved anyone, not in a romantic sense at least. I knew what I had to do. What he had to do
If I couldn't kill him, I could only hope someone else could, "You need to leave."
It's a statement. A simple fact. One he clearly didn't understand, "what?"
"You have to get out of here. Now," The hurt in his eyes, his real, sane human eyes, spoke measures to me. My chest was tight, and I can't seem to figure out why.
"Why?" His voice cracked.
"Because I told you to."
We stood there, facing off against each other. He doesn't move, "don't make me kill you," I whisper.
Finally, he steps away, "Fine," his voice is too hard, too cold. I've taught him too well, "whatever. There's only four of us anyway, right?" I nod, watching his back until he's out of sight. I drop to the ground as soon as he's gone. I can't do this anymore. Why did Winstead have to make this so complicated?
Looming down, I see what had been an apple crushed into the grass, right beside it was a patch of dead grass. The only grass. Then I smelled the pure chemical scent in the air. The poisoned stream. Then it all clicked. Someone had been here. I look up just as I heard Winstead's shrill scream. He sounded like a scared little girl. The sound chilled me to my core.
As much as I didn't want to, I had to follow the sound. What I saw was Winstead, strung up by the ankle, struggling to break free as a girl approaches, a gleaming knife held out in front of the figure. Dammit. Why can't I let him die?
With precision I didn't know I had, I sent a knife flying, severing the rope. Winstead crashes to the ground in a grunt of pain. The girl turns to me. Good, I've been itching for a fight. I take out my blades, getting ready. She doesn't even have actual weapons, her "knives" are two fangs probably cut from the jaw of some dead creature within the arena itself. I feel more comfortable with two blades in my hands than with any boy. Especially Winstead Dale.
Mica Lee, D9F:
It seems like this won't be as easy as I thought. Oh well, there's still two people here. I could just kill them both. I've done it before. Just twice more and I'll be that much closer to going home. To Rhyse, the only reason I have to go home at all.
I took out another fang, ready to fight. Her smile was devilish as she took out her own blades. Two long daggers. They make my fangs look like toys. No. I can't be intimidated. I'll just psych myself out.
"It's just you and me, 9." Her voice is cold, taunting like her smile. And I attack. She side steps my swing blade, sticking out a foot. I stumble over it, regaining my balance. I turn, waiting for her to make the next move. She doesn't. We just circle each other for a moment. That's when I realized she was waiting for her partner to get himself untangled from my trap. I can't wait. So, I attack again. I can't falter.
It was a long and brutal battle. She was wicked fast and deadly, but so was I. But I was bigger, taller. That turned out to be a disadvantage. I've never faced anyone as fast as her. We would shuffle back and forth, feigning blows. Then I would attack, or she would, before retreating. I was dripping in sweat, making the blade slippery and hard of breath. She looked like she could go on like this for hours.
Just then, she charged at me, slicing with one blade low, going high with the other. She nicked me, a long deep gash stinging with sweat. I was so distracted she was able to flip me to the ground, blood dripping from the gash in my face and into my eyes. A well placed kick to her stomach sent her backwards. I worked to catch my breath.
I stood up, ready to finish her off, when I felt the blade enter my body. A sword had run me through from the back, it's tip covered in blood pointing out of my stomach. It's my blood. The pain is unimaginable, and it's all I can do to drop to the ground, writhing in pain. It hurts even worse going out. I'll bleed out now. Drop dead right here. There's nothing more I can do. For the first, and last time, I let myself cry. Rhyse. I can't do it. I'll never see him again. I'll never save him.
In one last ditch attempt I stabbed my last fang deep into the girls leg, she was so distracted by the boy who had just ran me through she didn't see it coming. Everything faded out, the last thing I heard was the girls grunt of pain. She'll die soon enough. We all get our turn, after all.
Winstead Dale, D11M:
Boom.
The first girl was on the ground, tossed to the side and forgotten. She was already dead, so I don't think she minded much. Rusty was hurt too, sitting up against a tree, hands staunching a wound on her leg. It was wide, the blade cleaning went in and out. But she was bleeding heavily, promptly covering both hands and her leg. She was laughing to herself, the sound weak and painful to hear.
"Rusty, what happened?"
"I was distracted. She got a lucky hit," her face contorted in pain.
"But it's okay, right? You'll get better?" I needed an answer. The right answer. But she shook her head and my heart dropped.
"The fang, it was poisoned. And it popped a vein. I'll be dead as soon as it reaches my heart," she's always had this manic energy. But now she was disturbingly calm.
"I'm sorry," I say, I don't know what else to do.
"You should be. I leave you alone for five minutes and you go and almost get yourself killed. If I hadn't saved your miserable ass you'd be dead right now." Now I'm laughing, just as sad as her own pitiful sound.
"But you just got yourself killed. What did that do for anyone?"
"I'm saving your stupid life. I thought you'd be more grateful." She suddenly writhed in pain, curling away from me. Another person I care about is going to die, and I can't do anything about it.
I lean in, trying to kiss her one last time, but she pushes me away.
"No. That's not what you want. You don't care about me, not really. It's what they want. All I've done in this stupid game is exactly what they want," she's defiant and foolishly brave, even as she dies.
"What who wants?"
She exasperated now, "the Capitol. The game makers. Everyone else. They turned my brother into a pawn, and then they did the exact same thing to me Well, I'm not a pawn in this chess game anymore." She sits up more, putting both blood stained hands on my shoulders.
"You this isn't you, right? This evil, mean, murderous person I've brought out? You can't."
"No. Of course I'm not. I'm not like this because of you. None of this is your fault."
She laughs, again, loud and hard, "Of course it is. All of this is my fault. Winstead, I was going to kill you. Last night. I had to. So you should hate me, you should hate me more than who you think killed Abilene." I probably picked up on the least important part of that statement, but I had to mention it.
"That's the first time I've heard you call her Abilene."
"No. No, I didn't," I finally heard the rest of it.
This entire situation feels off, "Well, why didn't you kill me?"
She waits a moment before answering, "Because you remind me of me," she looks up at me, suddenly taking both my hands, "promise me you'll win? I'm just so sick of losing the people I care about. First Kaz, and now you."
I don't ask who Kaz is. It seems the moment I take answering sounds like doubt to her, because she adds, "Not for me. Do it for Abilene."
I nod, "I will. I'll try."
She smiles, "thank you," she coughed, turning away from me. I saw blood spatter the ground, the leaves around her. She turns to back to my one last time before I saw the light leave her eyes. No. I can't find her pulse. Not on her wrist. Not on either wrist. Boom. No.
"No. No! Don't leave me alone." Everyone is leaving me alone.
Lillith Sparks, D5F:
The second cannon goes about five minutes after the first. I stupidly hope for another one, but I'm not that lucky. How many is that now? Twenty-two dead? Yes. I'm one of the last two. I can't believe my luck. My own stupid, dumb luck. I might go home. I just have one more person to go through. Then I'll get to see my parents, Patrick and Pete. Brendon, Hayley and Jamie. Everyone. A little blood is worth that, right?
The two faces in the sky are District 2 and 9 girls. The first belonged to the girl who gave me that episode two days ago. Her partner is the only thing left between me and district six.
The rocks underneath my feet seemed to be vibrating, the ground shaking. The crumbling of earth and ground starts all at once. I panicked before realizing I was nowhere near the edge. It didn't get any better when the edges of this little planet fell away. Dropping off into a sheer cliff, getting closer and closer to me. I turn away from the cacophony of noise and destruction.
I keep running as long as I can, even after the avalanche ended. I was nearing the cornucopia now, and I saw a shadowy figure standing there. The other tribute. The shadows in the area I stood were far too deep for him to see, so I was fine just watching him. Then he turned my direction. He was too far away to hear me, but I held myself breath anyway. Inching slowly across to the woods, where I would have more protection. As soon as I got to the trees, I kept going. I watched the figure the whole time. It seemed like he was turned away from me. Just like that he turned and walked to the other side of the cornucopia. So, I took a risk. I darted in, grabbing the first knife I came across. It glinted in the moonlight.
I sit back, waiting. Waiting. Waiting for him to fall asleep. He doesn't. So neither do I. I'm hardly strong enough to take him on now, so I have to wait.
Eulogies
The fallen of Day 12
4: Mica Lee, D9F (2 kills)
Killed by Winstead Dale
You had your run. She was one of my favourites. Who am I kidding? I loved all of them. But Mica has a special place in my heart. Unlike any other character, she was comfortable with herself and knew what she had to do. I just don't know what else to say. I really cared about her, had a lot of fun writing from her perspective and just figuring her out.
3: Rusty Steele, D2F (3 kills)
Killed by Mica Lee
She was created by one of my closest friends. That's a lot of pressure. I've always hated the idea of people close to me reading my work, but I think I did alright with Rusty. To say the least, I'm happy with how Rusty Steele. I knew she couldn't win, she was the only career left, just killing of allies left and right, she was simply just too strong and an obvious choice for victory. I had to break her down to see what made her tick. She's not just a cold-blooded killer. She has issues too. I miss her already, even as I'm writing this. You had a good run, Rusty, but in the end you just weren't up to par. Goodbye and thank you.
Tributes remaining:
Lillith Sparks (D5F), Winstead Dale (D11M)
