Chapter Forty-Four: Settle Down, Settle Down

Day One

Artesia Alexander, District Ten Female

I don't know how long we've been going for when we see what appear to be wooden huts in the distance.

I'd never considered myself as being out of shape, but I'm panting and sweating just as much as, if not more than, Thomiah and Odysea as we approach them, and I can barely form coherent words anymore. Thus, it takes everything I have to choke out, "Is that where we're stopping?"

"Sure looks like it," Thomiah says, his voice far less labored than mine. Odysea just nods in response.

I coast the rest of the way, then we enter what appears to be some kind of clearing as we come to a stop at last. Odysea leans over and makes some heaving noises but fortunately doesn't throw up. I do the same. Thomiah seems unperturbed, instead choosing to scan the surroundings to make sure we're alone.

That seems to be true, so we look around to figure out where we're going to spend the night until Odysea points in a direction I haven't looked yet.

"There," she says, gesturing as she does. When I turn to look, I agree with her in an instant. All the other buildings are roughly made and look like they're being held together with mud and hope, but the one she's pointing to looks well-made, is a clean shade of white as opposed to the faded brown of the others, and looks like someone touched it in the last decade.

We stride over to it, stopping at the front door. Above it hangs a sign that reads, "Counselors' Cabin." The door opens without issue and we step inside.

Immediately I'm hit with a blast of refrigerated air. Not only does this feel like heaven compared to the heat outside, but this place, while not as lavish as my room in the Capitol, is fancier than anything I expected to see in the Arena. The walls are painted bright, cheerful colors, the floors solid wood. There's a kitchen just up ahead, with some cabinets, what I'm guessing are a fridge and microwave, and some chairs nearby. A few more doors are visible from my position, probably leading to bedrooms and/or bathrooms. There's even a ceiling fan spinning furiously overhead, providing more much-needed relief from the heat.

Thomiah's smiling. "Man, this feels good."

"Seconded," I reply. Odysea nods in response.

Thomiah strides over to the fridge, opening it wide to reveal a handful of brightly colored drinks, although no food. The cabinets also appear to be mostly empty, holding nothing more than a few cans of food and a knife. Chances are, the drinks are full of weird chemicals just like the ones I tried back during training, but they'll do. It's the Hunger Games after all, food and water are scarce. Usually.

I decide to just tell the others what I think here, since I think it benefits all of them. "Guys, if the Gamemakers are being this liberal with giving us supplies, I'm pretty confident they're expecting us to rack up kills. This arena's going to focus way more on combat than it will on survival."

"We can figure that out tomorrow," Odysea said. "For now, I've got a question for you guys. Should we block the windows or just leave them alone?"

"I'd say leave them," Thomiah says. "If someone comes close, they'll know we're here either way. If the windows are uncovered at least we can see them coming."

We reach an agreement on that, then search the rest of the place for other supplies. There's a bathroom with a toilet and sink but no tub or shower, two bedrooms with two twin beds each, and what appears to be a storage room with a handful of new weapons. We stash our supplies in as many hidey-holes as we can find, then Thomiah walks to the fridge and takes out three drinks.

"One for each of us," he says, then sighs. "Well, one for each of us now."

"Yep," Odysea says. "As much as I don't want to think about this, only one of us is getting out of here."

"Don't forget Faolan," I say. "I know I won't."

"If one of us makes it out, he'll be remembered fondly," Thomiah says. "He gave his life to make ours a little longer. That's not something most people would do."

Odysea nods.

I nod as well.

"Thank you, Faolan," we all say in unison as we press our drinks together in a half-hearted toast.

Sotia Vance, District Three Female

It's only been a few hours, but my stomach is really starting to regret not sticking around for the Bloodbath.

It hasn't graduated to full-blown screaming yet, but it's currently moaning that it's hungry and would really like some food. I've told it to shut up several times by now in hushed whispers, hoping I don't alert anyone nearby (if there is anyone nearby to begin with), but it doesn't want to listen to me. Go figure.

I try to focus on the positives for now. The air is fresh, if a bit sticky. The sun's starting to go down, meaning the temperature will drop a little as well. There's plenty of shade, there's more greenery than I've ever seen in my life, and surely it'll rain one day so I can collect some water when dehydration starts to become a problem. I'll be fine. I had breakfast this morning, it'll be enough to ensure I can fight for a while. Hopefully.

I'm assuming there's plenty of food out here if you know how to look, but the last thing I need right now is to poison myself. I'll wait until things get desperate to try that. At least at that point, I'd be on the way out anyway when the poison hits.

Then, everything goes off the rails when I notice the building in the distance.

I've been moving for hours now and I didn't stick around during those opening minutes, so chances are I'm the first person to discover this place, besides the Gamemakers of course. It appears to be a simple wood-and-stone structure, open to the elements on the side facing me. However, once I get closer, the real surprise is sprung.

Supplies. More supplies than any one person could ever need, just piled up at the back end of the room. Food, water, weapons… it's a freaking treasure trove. People would kill for all this stuff, and I mean that literally here.

I debate on skipping it. The Gamemakers could have put a speaker inside screaming, "Attention, all tributes, this is a trap," and it would be less obvious.

Upon closer inspection, the floor appears to be a checkerboard pattern of rainbow-colored tile, which leads me to run a little field test. I find a rock about the size of my fist; small enough to easily throw but large enough to be somewhat heavy, then toss it inside.

Once the rock hits the tile, a blue one, a jet of flame erupts from somewhere below. As the rock keeps bouncing, more and more flames erupt with each impact until finally, the rock comes to rest on a yellow square, thankfully short of anything that can catch fire.

The flames keep going for about twenty seconds, then extinguish themselves, leaving nothing but scorched tiles behind.

Okay then. It's a pressure-plate system, I've seen those in prior Games. Maybe there's a safe path to get to the food, maybe there isn't. Either way, it'll probably be a nice place to camp out for now, come to think of it. If someone else tries it, maybe I can steal their supplies when they inevitably bite it. Then again, they'd have to be stupid enough to leave their supplies behind to do that, but hey, I've seen dumber things happen.

Anyway, I should probably settle down for now. Maybe find a good spot to hunker down for the night in case the Careers get too kill-happy. It'd take a lot of bad luck for them to pick this specific direction, but I'd rather not take chances. I don't have extra lives to waste.

However, my stomach is still finding ample opportunities to bitch and moan right now, so maybe I should look for something I know is edible.

Sure, it'll be tough choking down whatever plant I find when all that food is right there, but it's the Hunger Games. I can afford a few compromises.

Godric Runestone, District Two Male

We're moving along in a triangle formation. I'm in the front, Clara and Galadia following close behind.

So far, no noises or signs of other people, although that should probably change soon. We've been going for quite some time, the sun slowly sinking behind us and nothing but woods, woods, and more woods in front of us.

At the very least, neither Clara nor Galadia are complainers. They've toughed it out for the first few hours of walking or so. However, I'm not sure how they'll react once it's time to turn back, which should be soon. Sunset isn't getting any further away.

Out of nowhere, Clara whispers, "Shut it," then everyone stays silent for about fifteen seconds just to hear nothing. Then, we keep going.

She and Galadia have been doing that the entire time, and while I do admit it's probably the best way to make sure we don't miss anything, it's starting to get on my nerves. I've lost count of how many times it's happened so far, and all of them have been for no reason. Plus, while they're not a special kind of loud, they're not being that quiet either. Chances are the second someone hears us coming, they'll start running.

"I don't think we picked a great direction," I say. "Doesn't look like anyone went this way."

"We know," Galadia says, disdain evident.

And that's fortunately the end of that conversation, but since for all I know they'll be keeping at this forever unless I call them off, I might as well pop the question now. "Okay, I know we should turn back soon so we can get to the Cornucopia on time, but when do you guys think that time is?"

"Soon," Clara says.

"Soon," Galadia echoes.

Ten minutes or so later, soon hasn't occurred. I've counted four instances of either Clara or Galadia causing everything to come to a halt, but nothing else. Based on where the sun is, if we turn around now, we're barely making it home before sunset, and that's if they don't keep pulling this. So, it's time for an executive order. "Guys, it's time to go back."

Clara gives me a look. "Okay, why?"

"We're already cutting it close," I say. "If we go back the way we came, we'll just make it to the Cornucopia before it gets dark, at least by my estimate. Any further, there's no way we're getting there in time. I don't want Sienna freaking out over us."

"Let her freak out," Galadia says. "We'll be fine."

"Agreed," Clara says. "She's not a toddler. I think we can assume she isn't scared of the dark."

"Let's hope," Galadia says with a snicker.

"Not cool," I say. "And do you really want to be a mutt casualty or something? I bet the Gamemakers are just dying to test them on us right now."

"And we'll beat them," Clara says. "Stop worrying."

I nearly facepalm at the absurdity. "Stop worrying? This is the Hunger Games! What circumstances possibly exist for which I shouldn't be worried?"

"Most of them," Galadia replies with no humor whatsoever. "We're the Alphas here. Most of the other tributes fear us, we're almost always the favorites to win, and we've got a steady support base in the Capitol. Tell me, when was the last time a Career didn't make it to at least the finale?"

I shake my head. "And you think we're all making it there?"

"No duh," Clara says. "Maybe the anti-Careers will be a bit of a threat, but worst comes to worst, it's three-on-three, and I'm sure each of us is more than a match for each of them."

"Okay, maybe Clara is going a bit too far there, but I see her point," Galadia says. "We don't have to worry about anything except things the Gamemakers can do, and that's beyond our control. So why should we worry about any of that?"

I'm losing my patience here. "That's not the point I'm trying to make. And you just said the Gamemakers can do things beyond our control. What happens if they sic something on Sienna while we're gone?"

Clara smirks. "Who says they haven't done that already?"

Okay, that's it. "I'm going back to the Cornucopia. You should too. Let's go."

Behind me, Clara and Galadia get into a whispering match. Clara seems angry, but she appears to be liking whatever Galadia is saying because she loses steam in a hurry, before finally saying, "Okay, let's go back."

We turn around on the spot and begin the long trek back, and I'm left to wonder how long it'll take before one of these arguments leads to blood.

Romeo Brady, District Eight Male

I need to stop, I've got nothing left to give.

Sure, now that I'm not breathing smoke it's easier to move fast, but I've never been very fit. Thus, I'm soaked with sweat and have a nasty headache to boot from maintaining a pace I'm pretty confident most Careers would have scoffed at.

Okay. Now that I'm not moving, time to assess the situation. I have no supplies, and considering I got one of the lowest scores of the Games, I'm not counting on any sponsors except those pitching some money in my direction for a cheap laugh. So that means everything I need, I'll have to find or make myself, including food and water.

I could really use some water right now, if nothing else. My head is killing me.

The sunset's just started, slathering everything in a beautiful hue of orange and red that we never get back home. A light breeze blows at my back, and the air feels fresh, if a little heavy. Everything's miles prettier than anything I've seen before, which is a shame, because unless some kind of miracle happens, my time here will be woefully short.

Take things one step at a time. Find what I need now, it'll only get harder. That, alongside other pieces of advice with varying degrees of usefulness, enters and exits my mind as I push my way through where the trees are thickest, trying to go downhill. I might not be a survival expert, but I at least know how gravity works. Let's just hope there's a lake or a stream nearby.

After about half an hour or so, the colors begin to fade out as true night starts setting in. I should be happy, because presumably darkness makes me a lot harder to spot, but that also means I'll struggle to find anything else as well. I don't have anything that can make seeing easier, and even if I did, that'd just make me a magnet to anyone nearby. I'm already weak as is, I can't afford to be stupid on top of that.

But as it turns out, I don't need to see if I can hear. It's faint at first, barely noticeable over the wind, but I can hear the trickle of water nearby. Inching forward, stopping every few feet to make sure I'm not being tailed or watched, I make my way through the thickest brush I've seen so far before I break through and find myself on the edge of a crystal-clear stream.

I'm not drinking it yet. The odds of the water being poisoned are low, but it wouldn't be the first time the Gamemakers pulled that trick. There's only so long I can afford to wait, however. I'm having flashbacks of the tribute in my slot from last year, who was so paranoid that everything was poisoned he refused to eat or drink anything from the arena, despite it literally being made of food. Surprisingly, he didn't die from dehydration, but given twelve more hours, he would have. I can't be him, but being reckless won't help either. I need to figure out some kind of balance here.

Then I hear rustling behind me. I whip around, preparing to run, but it turns out to just be a small animal. I think it's a squirrel, but I'm not sure, wildlife is hard to come by back home.

It does what I'd been planning to do, and takes a drink from the stream. I wait and wait, but nothing happens, and eventually it leaves just as it came.

Good. Unless the squirrel was tailor-made to survive drinking poisoned water (again, wouldn't put it past the Gamemakers to do that), that means it's safe. At this point, my head is pounding so badly I don't care about that anymore, so I take a deep breath before dunking both my hands in the water.

Nothing. So far, so good.

I bring the water to my lips, then let it trickle down my throat. Still nothing. No pain, no stomach cramps, nothing except a slight reduction in my headache.

At that point, all resolve fades, and I drink as much water as I can stomach, which is a lot. I don't know quite how much I've ingested once I stop, but I do know I shouldn't have to worry about water for at least a little while.

Food is next. As evidenced by the squirrel from earlier, there's going to be things to eat if I know how to find them. Unfortunately, I really don't.

Maybe I should find a hiding spot first. All the food in the world won't help if the Careers are breaking down my door. I've never been good at climbing and I don't have anything to tie myself down with, so up a tree is a bad idea. The brush is pretty thick around here, maybe I could just find somewhere where it's closed on all sides and work from there.

That'll do. Anyway, it's dark. I should be fine for a few hours.

In the most optimistic mood I've had for quite some time, I walk along the stream's edge, looking for somewhere to settle for the night.

Author's Notes:

-No deaths this time around, but for how long will that remain the case? I'm not sure myself, how about you?

-From this point forward, I'll only be showcasing the updated alliances once a full 24 hours in-game has passed. Thus, that won't come into play for a while.

-See you next chapter, which I hope is out soon!