Chapter X, Arena: Diseased and Deceased.
- Pushing Up Daisies -
The Twenty-Second Hunger Games
Riette just had to keep running, despite the guilt that ate through her very soul.
Nysa. The ally that made her feel safe, secure, confident, worthy of more than what Linden would abusively spit at her. The one person who offered her light when all she could see and feel was darkness.
A few feet behind her, the undead army followed, ambling slowly and crying out for her blood.
She looked over her shoulder, seeing them through teary eyes. A rotten mass of bodies that destroyed everything in their path. Fear almost suffocated her throat. She didn't need to know what had happened at the stream — the deafening bell chime that cut through the noise proved that someone died.
And for a split second, Riette wished it was Auberon.
It felt horrible to think about — after all, he had saved them — but she couldn't begin to imagine Nysa's demise at such violent hands.
Bile rose in her stomach and Riette stopped briefly, holding onto the tree with shaky hands as she emptied the entire contents of her stomach.
She felt so awful, so disgusting for putting herself first when Nysa's main aims were to save Riette from the overwhelming, crushing sensation of guilt. And to thank her? Riette put herself first.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up, seeing the zombie herd only a few feet away, in a packed huddle.
A brief thought crossed her mind. Why aren't they spreading out to attack?
But she dared not put too much thought in it. She had to be thankful that she wasn't being ambushed from every direction.
Her knees shook and her heart thudded. I can't do this alone… Riette's eyes filled with fresh tears. But she also knew that Nysa's death shouldn't be in vain. Riette had to do all she could to live in order to bring meaning to it.
And who knows? Nysa could still be alive and I might see her again.
Somehow, it didn't bring Riette any closer to finding comfort.
She glanced at the zombie herd one final time before running once more, desperately seeking her own determination.
Auberon just couldn't let go.
The crimson water sloshed against his thighs, Nysa's lifeless body held in his arms. Auberon could feel the damage done to her body — chunks missing, jagged teeth marks in her skin — but her face looked peaceful. Eyes shut, hair slicked back in the water, the blood from her face now washed away.
The zombies around them groaned but Auberon didn't care.
For a split second, it was just them meeting for the first time on the train, warmth and kindness in every word she said to him despite their growing fear and sadness from being chosen.
Auberon's lips peeled back into a sad smile, tears brimmed in his eyes. He leant down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before releasing her body into the water.
"I'm glad I got to know you…" Auberon whispered, watching her gently drift away.
Auberon wanted to stay and mourn. Sadness, anger, hatred and guilt battled inside of him. He wanted to sort through him so he could focus on his survival, but instead, he needed to clear his head.
Auberon gave Nysa's floating form one last glance before wading downstream, looking for his vantage point. Only a few metres away, Auberon heard audible splashes. He didn't want to turn around but he knew he had to. He immediately regretted it when he saw the zombies piling in the water, desperate to finish their meal.
With a clenched jaw and fighting every bone in his body to not go and fight them off of her, Auberon took his opportunity and mounted the bank.
I'm sorry, Nysa. Auberon ran into the forest, desperate to put distance between himself and the herd.
The forest was colourless and void of sound or light. Overrun with decay and death, it was no longer the picturesque arena that lulled them into a false sense of security. Auberon knew better now. He knew that he had to fight for his life or else lose it all.
He pumped his arms and legs like a machine, aiming in the general direction he believed the church to be. Surprisingly, he ran into no zombies, as if they were congregating elsewhere.
But he could hear and smell them. Their guttural moans. Their putrid, rotten flesh that almost reminded Auberon of the slaughterhouses at home.
Was that the end?
Auberon didn't know.
Are the zombies even important?
The thought sent lava into his veins. Somehow, in some way, he couldn't help but think that Nysa's death meant nothing to 'Limos'. He stopped, realising the anger was sapping away at his breath. He tried to calm himself down when he realised that he couldn't.
He was too angry. He wanted to scream and shout and let it all out. He had never been a violent person — surprisingly quite the opposite — and for the first time ever, he just wanted to hurt something. To let them know what he was feeling.
For allowing his fears to avoid Nysa. To run away from an alliance that, whilst he barely cared for, made him compromise his morals. To feel a smidgen of anger at Riette for not being there when it all went to shit.
Auberon clenched and unclenched his fists. He breathed through his nostrils. Paced back and forth like a caged, frantic animal.
Nysa.
Am I a coward? Am I reckless?
"Fuck!" Auberon screeched. The dam of emotions finally had a hole and it all came rushing out in a wondrous, expletive mess. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
He angrily kicked at the bushes, found rocks to hurl at the trees, shouting and swearing any word that came to mind just to ease the pressure on his head and soul from the crushing guilt and shame that he felt.
Eventually, he ran out of breath, weakly holding onto his knees as he gasped and choked for air.
Auberon needed to be rational. As he wiped angry tears from his eyes, he gathered his thoughts and tried to claim as much control as he could on the situation. He gently filed Nysa's face and name into a deep part of his mind so he could focus clearly.
He whipped his head around the trees, determined to find the right route.
I have to do this, Auberon quickly stretched his aching muscles, knowing deep down that the final showdown was fast approaching. I have to live.
Andronika couldn't catch a break.
With her back pressed against a large rock and the herd of zombies on her tail, she was quite truly caught between a rock and a hard place.
Her jaw was clenched, a fist balled, survival instincts pumping through her veins as she waited and waited and waited as the zombies' moans drew nearer, their putrid stench clogging up the air.
And at the right moment, Andronika leapt, rock encased in the other hand. She slammed it down angrily onto the soft skull of a zombie wearing Tirsa's face. It crumpled immediately to the floor, only to be replaced by another that Andronika quickly dealt with.
Her breaths came out ragged, exhausted. But she refused to give up.
She refused to let the zombies beat her.
Thwack!
She refused to let her own fears best her.
Crunch!
She refused to die.
The zombies keep coming in thick, always replacing one that had fallen. Andronika couldn't see an opening. Every small glimpse of a path was quickly swamped in seconds. On the back foot, Andronika backed up until she hit the large rock once more.
She needed to think fast.
Spinning on her back, Andronika scaled the wall with relative ease, fingertips bloody from the harsh stone. She pulled herself on top, able to see her surroundings much clearer.
The herd must've been about fifty bodies deep, clustered together. Andronika could just make out the church's tower in the far distance. Deep down, she knew she had to head there. With the forest around her dying, the church seemed brighter and stronger than ever, as if calling back the tributes to their origin.
It will be the final fight. Andronika had been keeping track of the bells — eighteen bells for eighteen dead tributes. Only six are alive.
She could almost taste freedom. With Tirsa now dead and hopefully Enoch too, there was nothing stopping Andronika from claiming her victory to stay alive.
Andronika's footing was on the edge of the rock. She winced at the pain in her ribs and the soreness around her swollen eye, but that didn't stop her. She could hear better, smell better, see better despite the disadvantage.
It was as if she was made to hunt.
Deciding it was now or never, rock in hand, she launched it into the distance. The clatter was enough to draw their attention, and Andronika made her move.
She threw herself off of the rock into a small patch of grass, hitting the ground on shaky legs. She elbowed either zombie on her side and charged like a bulldozer, slamming them out of her path as she ran.
With legs and arms pumping, lungs working faster, Andronika's mission was to get to the church and finish it all off.
I just want to go home.
And I will.
Astrid didn't know what to do, but she had an inkling.
"What if they come back as zombies?"
Her words sounded so fucking unbelievable — zombies — but they had to be cautious. She stared up at Murphy who was knelt on the floor, unresponsive, eyes locked on Frances' corpse.
"Murphy, do you hear me?" Astrid took a deep breath that made her chest hurt, "What if they come back as zombies?"
She remembered seeing Tobi's face in the crowd, his head popped open like an egg. It looked so much like him that Astrid couldn't tell if it was a fake or the real boy she had murdered. She dared not to think about it. The answer wouldn't do her any good.
She looked at Murphy again. Still not listening.
Astrid sighed, pulling herself up onto her feet. Her face ached and she felt disorientated. She looked down at Baylor, blissfully asleep, blackened. A strange guilt settled in Astrid's stomach as she bent over to grab Baylor's arms.
Murphy looked up, red-rimmed. "What are you doing?"
Astrid had to be cautious. That was her reason. "She could come back…"
Murphy's eyes widened. "You're— you're gonna burn her?"
Astrid looked at him with sharpened eyes. "You're really going to say that after what you just did?"
"I— I didn't mean to, she—"
"—I know," Astrid answered a bit too curtly, "I know."
Murphy stood up silently, walking to Astrid and lifting Baylor up by the legs so she wouldn't be dragged. Respectfully, the pair gently eased Baylor's body into the fire, to finish what Murphy had unintentionally started.
The pair of them stared as the flames destroyed what was left of their temporary ally.
"And Frances?" Murphy asked, trying to hide the weakness in his voice.
Astrid just nodded, sick to her stomach, "To be safe, yeah."
The pair collected what was left of Frances. Astrid made sure not to stare at the cavity that was her chest for too long. Silently, as they placed her into the fire, Astrid realised that she truly had nobody once more.
It hit her when Baylor died, briefly, but the weight really set in as she looked at Murphy and rationalised her feelings for him as fear and distrust.
He just snapped. Zoned in on Baylor and crushed her with his flaming body, not listening to any reasoning or plea as Baylor burned in his arms. It was a memory Astrid wasn't going to forget any time soon.
"Now what?"
Astrid chewed on her words. "We go our separate ways…"
"What?" Murphy was aghast. "…why?"
Astrid tried to avoid his sad eyes, "We're not really allies, are we? It was just a truce to find safety. Well… it didn't work out so well, did it?"
Murphy didn't answer for a few moments. He looked like a kicked puppy, as if he had never been alone before in his entire life. Astrid couldn't relate to those feelings as she did better alone.
"We can't exactly split up," Murphy reasoned with her, "We're trapped in this church now… at least until the zombies fuck off."
Disoriented and exhausted, Astrid couldn't be bothered to argue with him. She bent down to sit on the bench nearest her. The fire behind Murphy roared and cackled, destroying what was known.
"Fine."
"Fine?"
Astrid sighed. "The truce continues."
I can see it!
The church's bell tower came into view. Riette's heart soared in her chest. Her arms and legs were pumping wildly, thighs cramped and every bone screaming in agonising pain. But it didn't stop her. She saw the light at the end of the tunnel and ran as hard as she could.
The trees thinned out, the church grew bigger and bigger…
Riette grinded to a halt.
The entire field in front of the church was clustered with zombies. They meandered aimlessly, their putrid smell and lifeless groans filling the air.
Riette's heart sank. She choked on a cry as her whole body deflated.
She had pinned all of her hopes on the church becoming her sanctuary. It was all she had going for her. Without it… Riette feared the worst. She looked over her shoulder, realising that the undead army had grinded to a halt also, as if making a wall to prevent Riette from turning around.
Panic set in. She was trapped between two groups with zero route.
As if on instinct to defend herself, a green shape formed in Riette's hand. A rudimentary dagger that felt heavy and light at the same time. She raised it in front of her to warn them back.
But behind her, the group parted to provide a path. Riette glanced between the wall of zombies that slowly edged towards her and the clear path that led right through the horde.
I don't have a choice, Riette realised. She turned around and ran as fast as she could through the path, using the green knife as threateningly as she could on any zombie that dared to take a swipe at her.
I can see it!
Auberon was so close.
He ran down the path in front of him, wary of the zombies on either side that snarled. He didn't care. He pushed forward, driving for the building that was his only plan. It didn't matter anyway — behind him, the zombies melded into the path, forcing Auberon to either keep going or fall to their teeth.
To his left, he noticed another disturbance. A green glow through the rotted bodies.
A flash of red hair proved his suspicion. Her name rose in his throat but he didn't shout. He didn't want to ruin it for the pair of them.
He reached the church, jumping over the graveyard's iron fence and scrambling around to the main doors.
Blocked.
Auberon angrily slammed against the broken door, held up by furniture and concrete on the other side. He could see a fire through the gaps, illuminating two figures that must've been the cause.
"Let me in!" Auberon shouted, now not caring.
Riette was by his side in seconds. "Auberon!"
"Let me in!"
"Wait— it's locked!?"
"Barricaded!" Auberon's panic was setting in. He had gotten so close and he knew there were other things making him angry, but this wasn't helping. "Hey! I know you can see me! Let me in!"
Murphy tried his best to ignore the bangs and cries for help.
"You have to ignore them—" Astrid's expression was steely, unnerved.
"—but the zombies—"
"We all have to die, Murphy," Astrid reasoned, "If we let them in, we stand a good chance of them killing us moments after. Or, better yet, the zombies breaking in."
"But they're at the door…" Murphy breathed, "The zombies must've backed away from it, right?"
"Please!"
Auberon took a few steps back, ramming his shoulder into the door. Pain shot through his arms, making his jaw clench, but it didn't stop him. He ran again and again and again and Riette's cries for sympathy fell on deaf ears.
"Please!"
"Astrid, I—"
"Murphy…" Astrid felt sick. "We can't."
It was a strange mix of guilt and regret and self-hatred that made Murphy fixate on the door, on the tributes on the other side, as if compelled to right his wrong by saving another. He just stared and tried his best to block out the banging.
The door kept banging. The girl kept crying.
"Astrid…"
Bang!
"Murphy, don't do it."
Bang!
He looked down at his arms. The fire had caused his tree-like skin to peel away in giant chunks, crumbling in his very hands. His greatest advantage was dying… he wouldn't be able to withstand the zombies again.
He gritted his teeth and willed the tributes to run away, to escape, to not put the guilt upon him.
"They're not listening to us!" Riette cried.
Auberon didn't stop slamming into it. He refused to give up, to be beaten at the last hurdle, to have lost Nysa and his morals for nothing!
He kept going for it, shoulder in an alarming amount of pain. Fire swathed up and down it as he ran into it once more, hearing an audible crash on the other side.
The door partially fell open, proving a gap.
"What the—"
"Riette, quick!" Auberon clasped his fingers together, giving her a boost to climb through the gap at the top.
Riette scrambled through the opening, clattering and falling against the moved pieces of rubble and benches until she hit the floor hard and awkwardly. She cried out in pain as she looked up, noticing the two tributes staring back at her.
She didn't recognise them at all. A girl with claw marks down her face and a boy with peeling, blackened skin.
She felt a surprising amount of hatred for the pair of them. Neither sympathetic enough to lend a hand — although Riette realised that the Hunger Games meant that survival triumph morals sometimes.
She watched with wary eyes, green knife still in hand, shaky as she stared at them. She heard some noise behind her as Auberon crashed through the opening, landing next to her.
Auberon straightened himself up, staring at the pair in front of him.
The two pairs just stared at each other in awkward silence, neither being the first to move.
"You wouldn't open the door for us?" Auberon challenged, a little ice in his voice.
Neither tribute responded, but the guilt was evident on their faces.
"Well, we made it," Riette breathed heavily, lungs craving air. "Now what?"
"We wait…" Auberon refused to remove his eyes from the threat. He gently edged himself towards a concrete bench on the far side and perched himself on it for some respite. Riette soon followed.
"What are we going to do?" Riette whispered.
Auberon realised that, for now, their alliance was mended again. They had to protect each other. "We wait…" Auberon answered fairly, "It's all we can do."
Enoch was rather entertained from the eaves, watching as the pair not only burned their allies bodies to prevent reanimation, but ignored the cries of others.
And then the new arrivals — Enoch didn't recognise either of them, but they must've rounded out the remainder of his opponents. All that left was one more person out in the wilderness, trying to find shelter from the army.
For a brief second, Enoch felt guilt… but he quashed it as he heard banging and clanging from behind him. He crept onto his feet and gently walked back along the eaves to the upper floor of the church.
Nobody had bothered to head upstairs. Abandoned books and papers scattered the floor. Old metal goblets and plates were thrown around, as if something chaotic had just flown in. Enoch's head turned towards the window that was wide open, velvet blue curtain billowing in the slight breeze. He watched, eyes narrowed, and edged towards it when two dark-skinned hands popped through the opening, grasping, a head soon following that was full of sweat, grime and bruises.
Shit. Enoch glowered behind his amused smile as Andronika pulled herself through the window, landing on the carpet with fists clenched and a fighter's stance at the ready.
"Hello, Andy. Glad to have you back with us!"
Outside, the zombies stilled completely. Not a single sound, no movement, shoulder to shoulder as they all turned to face the church.
All six remaining tributes were trapped inside as every zombie from the arena congregated around it. They filled every single gap on the blackened grass, the graveyard, pressed up against the stone building until their faces began to ooze and pop from the pressure.
Their growls soon came back in harmony, unison, reaching a crescendo that drowned out every other noise.
The only person leaving that building would be the Victor.
Praise Limos.
w w w. pushingupdaisieshg. blogspot. c o m
The Fallen:
No Deaths. :)
Questions!
What has been your favourite moment of this story so far? It can literally be anything that you liked/loved.
We are only two chapters away from the arena being completed and having a Victor announced. At this point, it's anyone's game — the building holds five victims and a winner. Who knows what'll happen!
As we draw nearer, I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone for their lovely comments and reviews. It's been a blast to write this story, despite being surprisingly difficult at times as I've adjusted to a new writing style!
Keep safe everyone.
~Corey.