Chapter 13 - Day 6

This chapter is going to be told through multiple perspectives, so that you're able to see what all of the tributes are doing during the earthquake! This is also a pretty long chapter, but I think it was necessary in order to catch up with the rest of the tributes!

Caelia

I grabbed my knives and my pack but didn't have time to get all of the blankets we had spread out during the night. Atlas had his pack and mace in hand and we immediately sprinted out of the building. Luckily we were close to the exit, but the building was already half caved in so we wasted no time in getting out. If the building had seemed more stable, we probably would have stayed inside, but I doubted it would stay standing for too long.

Of course, being out on the streets was just as worse, perhaps even more dangerous. Atlas and I both started sprinting for the edge of the city, which probably would have been a five or so minute walk, but took much less time since we were sprinting as fast as we could. I kept an eye on the ground in front me, not wanting to trip on any of the loose cobblestones or bits of building that were scattered on the streets.

I didn't see any other tributes, but I knew that it was only a matter of time, since without a doubt they would be trying to get out of the city as well.

The ground felt unsteady beneath my feet - which, of course, it was. If this had been any other situation I would have stopped to assess the situation, but I didn't dare slow down. If any of these buildings collapsed into the street, I would be done for. So I kept sprinting for the edge of the city, which was now in sight. I spared only a glance for Atlas, who was a few steps behind me, sprinting just as hard as I was.

Behind me, I heard the unmistakable boom of a building collapsing. Though I was already going as fast as I was able to and my throat was like sandpaper, I forced my legs to move even faster.

Finally, we made it out of the ruined city. I didn't stop until Atlas and I were both far enough from the city that I felt confident that we would be out of range from any collapsing debris. Atlas came to a halt next to me, breathing just as hard as I was. He put his arm around me, and I was sure it was as much for support and so that neither of us collapsed as it was out of relief that we had both made it out alive.

"We - should probably - get to cover - so that they don't find us." I was surprised that I had managed to get any words out with how out of breath I was, and indeed it had taken several breaths to get out just that one sentence.

"Everyone else - will be too concerned - with themselves - to come after us." Atlas had the same difficulty talking that I had. I dropped my pack on the ground and fished out my water bottle, which was about half full, but I gulped down the water like I would never get any again. My throat began to feel slightly less rough, although I had inhaled some dust and sand, so I started coughing. Beside me, Atlas was doing the same.

It took a few minutes before we were both able to speak again and had caught our breath.

"Should we at least move farther away so that we're not in the open desert?" I asked. "We can find shelter behind a dune or in the oasis."

"We're not going to be able to survive in the oasis."

"Well we're not going to survive in that city." We both looked back toward the city. I saw plumes of dust wherever a building had collapsed, and even more rubble lining the streets than usual. I had no idea how long it would be before it would be safe to enter the city again. With the already half-ruined state of it and the many unstable buildings, it probably wouldn't be for a few days. "And we're not going to survive in the desert, either. All of us were raised in the Capitol, so none of the other tributes know how to survive in the wilderness either. We'll at least be guaranteed a fresh source of food and water."

"Oh, all right," Atlas said. "But we should at least wait a few more minutes before going toward the oasis. To allow us to rest a bit more."

I nodded. I was just as exhausted as he was, and a few extra minutes of rest sounded like heaven. We would start for the oasis after that, leaving the known territory of the ruined city and venturing into the wilderness.

Zeus (Age 18, Casca Highbottoms's great grandson)

As soon as Zeus had felt the ground beneath him begin to shake, he had grabbed his pack and his sword, which had both thankfully been right next to him, and stood. He could make it out of the building in almost no time at all, and then be out of the city soon after that, but the building that he was in seemed stable and he didn't want to be caught up in any other collapsing buildings. So he had gone over to the wall with no windows and that was the most intact and dropped to the ground, covering his head and neck with his pack and then his arms.

Zeus hadn't often prayed, but he prayed now. He prayed that this building would remain stable, that he would be safe from any debris and rubble, and that this earthquake would take care of some of the other tributes. He missed Aphrodite now more than ever, and he focused on her now to take his mind off of this earthquake. He remembered her as she had been before he had gone into the arena and how happy he had been when he was with her. He focused on how happy she would be again once he got out of the arena. If he got through this, he would be able to see Aphrodite again, and he would be able to see their child.

Eventually, the shaking stopped, and Zeus gingerly got to his feet, ready to drop back down at a moment's notice. This wouldn't behave like a regular earthquake, because it wasn't at all normal. This had been engineered by the Gamemakers, and they would return the city to normal when they wanted to. They wanted a show, and hopefully the other tributes were going to give it to them.

Of course, they also wanted to see the deaths of the Capitol's children. The show was just an added bonus.

He had to get out of here. Perhaps if he seemed like he wouldn't cause any trouble once he was out of the arena, the new government would let him live. After all, he had been thrown in here for something his great-grandfather had done. It wasn't like he had even known his great-grandfather, and he was content to go along with what the rebels were doing as long as he was left alone. He was trying his best to show the audience that, and it seemed to be working, because he had gotten a few more parachutes. He wouldn't have to worry about starvation or dying of thirst or cold anytime soon, that was for sure.

Zeus looked out over the city. He had gotten lucky; there was a whole host of other buildings that had collapsed, burying the streets in rubble, but his building hadn't been touched, and he had a clear way out of the building to the oasis if he needed food. Now all he had to do was wait until that night, when he would see how many of the tributes were left to kill before he could go home.

Hestia (Age 12, Snow's secretary's daughter)

Hestia had thought that she had been in some kind of nightmare when she woke up to the ground shaking violently. Phoebe had already shouldered both of their packs and had lifted Hestia to her feet.

"We need to go," she said, and Hestia didn't question Phoebe when she ran into the street. Trying to get out of the city, Hestia reflected. That was a smart idea. She sprinted out of the street after Phoebe, who had become like an older sister to Hestia. She knew Phoebe would protect Hestia, and the two had formed a bond over the past few days.

There was a crunching sound, and Hestia slowly looked up, fearing the worst. And indeed, it was. The wall of the building nearest to Hestia was beginning to fall. Hestia froze, unable to move, just stared at the wall. This was it. She was going to die.

And then she was on the ground, sure that she was dead. She felt her cheek scrape the ground, and screamed.

When Hestia looked up, she screamed again. Phoebe had shoved her out of the way, but now she was underneath the wall, she was about to be crushed. There would be no time for her to get out of the way, and she seemed to know that.

"Go!" Phoebe screamed, her face crumpling. "Run! Go!" Hestia shook her head, starting toward Phoebe. Maybe she could save her.

"No! Get out of-" The wall came down.

The cannon fired immediately; Hestia was surprised she could hear it over the sound of the wall collapsing.

"No!" The salt in her tears stung on the cuts on her face, but Hestia didn't care. Phoebe was gone. Her protector, her friend, her surrogate older sister, was dead. Hestia was alone, and Phoebe was gone.

She barely managed to stumble out of the city, still heaving with sobs, and collapsed in the middle of the desert. It was only then that she realized that she had no pack: Phoebe had taken both of their packs so that Hestia would be able to run faster.

Hestia was at a loss of what to do. Where would she go now? Phoebe had always helped her before. But now Phoebe was gone.

Vulcan (Age 16, Head Peacekeeper's son)

Vulcan had managed to lay low ever since Cicero and Julius had been killed. He had been sad when Cicero had died, of course, but when Julius had died, he had been absolutely gutted. There had been a few hours that night, after he had seen Julius' face in the sky, when he had wondered if he should just give up. But that was insane, he had realized after a bit. He needed to win to get back to his family. And this was the Hunger Games, after all. He had gone into it knowing that there could be only one victor.

Thankfully no one had noticed him over the past few days, and he intended to keep it that way. He knew that there was no way that he would be able to win through strength or cunning, so he intended to just outlast the other tributes. And so far, his plan had been going perfectly. He hadn't been a standout tribute, so he was fairly certain that no one had remembered him. And that was the way that he liked it.

When the earthquake had hit, he had gotten down against one of the interior walls of the building that he had been staying in - he hadn't moved buildings since the bloodbath, and no one had discovered him yet, so he had just kept hidden. And now he waited for the shaking to subside. It felt like an eternity, but the ground finally felt stable again, so Vulcan slowly got to his feet.

A smile spread across his face. He had definitely heard at least one cannon. He had outlasted at least one of the other tributes through this earthquake. And most of the tributes left now were extremely capable. This just proved that he was going to win.

Ares (Age 17, Dr. Gaul's great-grandson)

Ares wasn't stupid. He knew how to take shelter during an earthquake, and he had done so immediately. When the shaking subsided, he had stood, brushed the dust off of his jacket, shouldered his pack, and taken out his sword. He wasn't disoriented, but he knew that most of the other tributes would be. This would be the perfect time to go hunting.

He had to climb around piles of rubble, and in some cases take different routes entirely, but that was fine. The rest of the tributes probably had had no idea how to handle this.

Ares checked inside some of the still-intact buildings, just in case people were still in there. In one building, he found a pile of blankets but no tributes, which was disappointing. Hopefully they had been buried in piles of rubble when trying to get out of the city.

After blocks and blocks of no tributes, Ares was beginning to get discouraged. But finally, when he looked into one of the buildings on the outskirts of the city, he saw a boy. He couldn't remember his name, and Ares had been sure that he was dead already.

Oh, well. He would be dead soon.

Ares grinned as he stepped into the building, blocking the entrance.

"Hello," he told the boy, who snapped his head up and immediately grew pale. He had a mace, but Ares could immediately see that the boy was holding it wrong. And besides, a mace in the hands of this weak boy would be no match for a sword in the hands of Ares.

He drew closer. The boy grew paler, and Ares could see him shaking slightly.

"I killed your allies, didn't I ?" Ares asked, because memories of this boy were coming back to him. One of the others he had killed had hung around this boy during training.

Instead of frightening the boy more, he set his jaw and lifted the mace springing to his feet and winging it.

"How dare you?" the boy spat. "Julius was everything to me."

If Ares had been anyone else, he might have been afraid of the ferocity on this boy's face. But instead he just laughed.

"Everything? Doesn't your own life mean more?"

Ares swung his sword and the boy collapsed.

The cannon fired.