Thank you to everyone who's been reading this thus far; I hope you're enjoying! I always appreciate reviews; they help me write future chapters better! Take care and stay safe. -CM
Chapter 39- Astrid Clearwater
"We ought to do another round of disinfectants," Elowyn says, kneeling next to me. The idea of the burning alcohol touching me again makes me want to scream, but ultimately, it's better than blood poisoning.
"It's fine, I'm fine, everything's fine," I tell her. "We might as well, though." Actually, I'm not sure I'm fine, but the audience has to see I'm not giving up. I might be District 3, but I'm not weak.
"It hurts," Tilling moans from the opposite side of the Cornucopia.
"I'll get to you in a second, stop complaining," Elowyn says in a rare moment of impatience. Then again, she's been looking after Tilling since yesterday morning, since the mutts attacked us. I'm not going into the water again, not for a long time. Not until the Gamemakers force us out.
For a moment after the turtle crab things jumped out of the water and we backed up into the gold horn, we all just stood there and watched them, and they stared back at us with those unnervingly unreal blue eyes. You could just tell they were made in the Capitol and programmed to hate tributes.
"Don't move. Don't even think about moving," I hissed, trying not to move my mouth as much as possible. Tilling had tears pouring down her cheeks, and she was trembling, but she stayed still. I gripped my axes tighter, ready to attack when they did.
Turned out, we didn't have to wait long.
The largest mutt snarled, spitting blue saliva onto the sand and showing off its broken glass-shaped teeth. Its friends must have taken that as the signal, because they came at us all at once, scuttling forward way too fast for them to be natural. Not that that was the only giveaway.
"Kill them!" I shouted, swinging my axe down and decapitating the nearest mutt to me; blue blood leaked out onto the beach, its eyes growing glassy. Tilling started to scream, and for once I couldn't blame her.
It was a stupid idea to go to the Cornucopia.
Elowyn had an axe too, and she was swinging at the mutts, taking down two at a time; Tillling had a flimsy knife which was doing absolutely nothing to deflect the mutts' attacks.
"Help me!" she shrieked, backing up even further into the Cornucopia.
"We're a little busy!" I shouted back, cleaving a turtle skull in two. My pant legs were, and still are, stained with blue blood; spattered all the way up to my thighs. Absolutely disgusting.
"Astrid, look out!" Elowyn yelled. I yanked my axe out of the mutt too late; a horrible pinching and then burning spread up the back of my leg, pulling me over. I screamed and fell, kicking at the turtle that was latched onto my leg with both its claws and its sharp teeth, tearing at my leg.
"Get off!" I shrieked, beating at it with the blunt side of my axe, but the bloody thing would not let go of me.
Another mutt grabbed at my back; I swung one axe behind me and split that mutt in two; with the left I managed to hit the other mutt hard enough to make it let go of my leg. As soon as its teeth released, I slashed its head off, and watched its blood mix with mine and sink purple into the sand.
Tilling was still screaming, and I managed to stagger to my feet, blood streaming out of my leg. Another mutt came at me, but I threw the axe that was in my left hand, burying it in its scaly chest. "I'm coming!" I called to Tilling, tears pouring down my face. The burning spread faster the more I moved, like my leg was on fire.
Just like the boy that Trestle talked about torching.
Tilling was covered in them; three mutts biting at her arms, her face, her legs. I limped over as fast as I could and cut the turtles off her, letting them bleed blue onto the Cornucopia floor. Tilling sat up, sobbing; blood streaming out of cuts on her face and arms.
"It hurts," she whimpered, pressing her hands to the deeper slashes on her arms; blood leaked out from around her fingers. I could see Elowyn still attacking the mutts, but as far as I could tell they were starting to either all die or move back into the water.
I sank down beside Tilling and tried to get a handle on myself. The whole of Panem was watching us, watching me, and I had to show them that I could be the victor. And victors don't cry and carry on; they take their injuries, heal them, and keep going.
Mama and Axel were watching; I couldn't break down completely in front of them. And I wouldn't give District 3 the satisfaction.
Finally, Elowyn called, "They're gone. They're gone." She didn't cry, even though she looked dazed by the mutt attack. "They got you two good, didn't they?" she said, coming towards us. I could see her hands shaking, but she didn't let on what she was feeling.
"Got any first aid kits?" I asked, pressing one hand to the worst of my leg and wiping my face with my other hand.
"Should be; there better be." Elowyn started rifling around through the supplies, tossing prepackaged foods and weapons behind her like they were nothing. "Got one."
"Get Tilling first," I said, nodding to the sobbing girl next to me. "I'll handle myself." Elowyn nodded quickly, and opened the kit to reveal sterile bandages and antiseptic.
While she disinfected Tilling, I pulled my pant leg up high enough to be able to see what I was working with. I couldn't even see what the mutts had done; there was too much blood. I hate blood, hate the sight of it, hate the smell of it. But this is the arena, and all that doesn't matter here.
"Flush it with the antiseptic," Elowyn told me. "We get enough work injuries in 7 that look like this; antiseptic's best."
In 3, we don't have accidents like this; we work in the electronics factories or something similar; we're not the most athletic people. Which puts us at a distinct disadvantage every year, and results in all our tributes dying in the bloodbath.
Except for this year.
"Here," she said, passing me the bottle.
"Thanks."
Judging by Tilling's sobs, I figured the disinfectant didn't feel the best on open wounds, but as soon as it poured onto my leg, I realized that the mutt attack was nothing compared to the antiseptic burning. I gritted my teeth and hissed through them, determined not to scream. Every tribute in the whole arena probably heard us before, and I wouldn't let them hear me again.
After a few splashes, the wounds became clearer; part of my leg was cut up by the mutt's claws, the other part was missing whole chunks where the mutt bit me. My calf felt like I had burning coals stuck to it, or like I was pressing it against our stove at home and couldn't get it off.
"They got you really bad," Elowyn said, looking over at me from where she was bandaging up Tilling. As far as I could see, she wasn't hurt at all.
"Yeah," I breathed, trying not to cry again. I hate crying, especially here. I will not look weak, not for anything. "Hand me the bandages."
Elowyn and I swapped, me giving her the antiseptic, and her giving me the roll of white bandages. Carefully, I wrapped my calf until all the blood and horror was hidden underneath a much more manageable white surface. Clean, sterile, and controllable.
"This wasn't a good idea, was it?" I asked as quietly as I could. Elowyn didn't say anything for a second, just wrapped bandages around the worst of Tilling's injuries.
"We could have been attacked anytime. It was just easier for them to get us here."
"True," I said, pulling myself backwards to find a more comfortable place to sit, out of the pools of blue and red blood and away from the bodies of the mutts. All at once, the adrenaline left me and I passed out in the supplies.
"We need water," Elowyn says, breaking me out of yesterday's events. "We're not going to last long without water."
So that's the Gamemakers' ploy; they don't want any of us to stay in the Cornucopia too long, because if they did, they would have provided water here in the horn or made a water source on this island.
Where's Beetee in all this? He said I had sponsors, so where are my supplies? What is Circuit doing, and where is he, and why is he probably getting all the parachutes? If he's been chosen to be the tribute who gets out of here, that just gives me another reason to win and finally get the whole story out of my mentor.
"I'm not eager to get back in the water," I say, chancing a quick look at the waves that are lapping gently at the beach. We'd be safe here, if it wasn't for the fact we need fresh water instead of seawater.
"I'm not either," Elowyn says, standing up from where she's been bandaging Tilling again. "Do we have a choice?"
"If our mentors got their acts together, they could send us some water," I tell her. My leg hurts, and my shoulder stings, but the worst is the idea that Beetee might have chosen Circuit over me. I got the seven in Training, I should be the one he picks!
I'll just have to show them all that I'm not weak, not to be counted out of the Games.
Tilling starts to cry again. "I'm not going back in there! I'm not going to, not ever!"
Elowyn and I look at each other. Tilling's starting to become a liability; how long are we going to be able to keep this alliance together? There's a reason why nobody allied with her in Training, so how long can we stay together now?
"We're going to need it soon," Elowyn says, though she sounds hesitant for once. She doesn't want to break the alliance any more than I do. The Gamemakers are going to force something soon; thirteen alive on the fourth day is too many.
My throat is already parched, and there's no water in this whole Cornucopia. They really like to make us work for it, don't they? Still, something seems unstable in the arena today. Something's going to happen, and soon.
"Grab a pack," I say, pulling the nearest one to me. The Careers couldn't take all the supplies with them when they went, and I want to be more prepared than they are. It's the only way to win this. "Put as many supplies as you can in, and we'll get ready to go. Something doesn't feel right."
Elowyn nods, grabbing a dark green backpack and starts to throw packaged food, medical supplies, and weapons into it. I start to do the same.
"Tilling? Let's go," I say over my shoulder. She's not doing anything, just sitting there with her head in her hands.
"I can't go," she whispers.
"Well I'd love to know your other options," I tell her. This is the girl who followed us until we accepted her into our alliance; she's not going to stay here alone.
"We can stay here and wait for Ripple to send us some water."
"Tilling, we're not staying," Elowyn says, zipping up her pack. Does Tilling think we want to go back to the main island, back to where there are ten other tributes waiting to kill us; back to the jungle and the feeling of being watched every time we move?
There are a lot of tributes who shouldn't be here this year; Kiril, the Career girl from 4, Tilling… The Capitol's murdered them, and they don't even care. Our deaths are the height of entertainment, and it just makes me feel a little fonder towards District 3.
District 3 may hate me, but I doubt they're all cheering for my death.
"I don't want to go! I want to stay here, it's safe! It's safe!" Tilling says, her voice growing high and hysterical. I know what's happening, and I don't have any power to help her. I doubt anyone has. The arena is breaking Tilling, and we are the ones who have to handle it.
I throw my pack on my back and, as fast as I can, I limp over to my sobbing ally and grab her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at me. "Listen to me, it's not safe anywhere in here. We're in the Hunger Games; nothing is safe. But you're safer with us, so are you coming with Elowyn and me, or are you staying here alone?"
Tilling cries harder; I can feel Elowyn's uncomfortableness behind me. She never wanted Tilling along; I was the one who pulled for her to join the alliance. It's ironic now, since I never wanted allies to begin with.
I stare Tilling down a moment longer, then let her go. "Your choice. Let's go, Elowyn."
"I- I'll come," Tilling says shakily, starting to try to get to her feet.
"Astrid?" Elowyn asks, and her voice sounds as shaky as Tilling's. "What's going on?"
"What?" I turn to look at Elowyn, and I see what she means. Water's flowing steadily onto the beach, starting to rush into the Cornucopia itself. It's funny that I think of our leaking roof at home now, when nothing like this ever happens in District 3. The water torrents come from the sky, not from the sea.
Water laps around my feet, rising fast, too fast, to my ankles. "Let's go, now," Elowyn shouts above the noise of the rushing water. Beneath me, I feel the ground shudder and quake; something is very wrong right now.
I knew the Gamemakers were going to force some entertainment today, and I guess we're the stars of their show.
"Tilling, come on!" I shout; she's just standing there, frozen. Elowyn grabs my arm and pulls, hard.
"She's not coming, and I'm not going to die for her. Astrid, we have to go," she shouts; the water is swirling around my calves now; the seawater burns my bandaged leg; a sharp, acidic sting. "Astrid!"
I look at Tilling one more time; her eyes are wide with terror, her mouth slightly open. Black hair in a tangled braid. She can't win, could never have won no matter what she did.
I let Elowyn pull me out of the Cornucopia, the ground shaking underneath our feet, like the earthquake we had once back home. There was no water then, no golden horn, no girl left behind. The pain in my leg spreads up until I can feel my nerves burning in my lower back.
Elowyn doesn't have to tell me to swim; I do it by myself as soon as the water rushes up and around my waist. The familiar terror of the unknown comes back; are there turtles or other mutts, or creatures that aren't mutts but are just as deadly? The distance to the pedestals seems farther than it was when we crossed yesterday, but maybe that's because everything about me hurts right now.
Still, my eyes are dry when I finally pull myself up, dripping seawater and barely able to move my leg. Luckily, my pack is still strapped to my back. Crouching, holding onto the edge of the pedestal for dear life, I look at the Cornucopia just in time to see it shudder and sink fast below the ocean surface; sunlight glints off of its wet gold for just a moment before it disappears, taking Tilling and all the supplies with it.
"Elowyn?" I gasp. I feel like I just got punched in the stomach. Since when does the Cornucopia disappear?
"Astrid," she calls back, and I see her sitting a few pedestals over, and she's crying, her long hair plastered to her face so that she looks half drowned. "She's- is she?"
The answer comes when the cannon sounds.
Tilling Bluekind is dead.