Chapter 28: Keep At It

Justyn Silvanus

Mags picks up the phone on the third ring.

"Hello?" Her voice is soft as always. She's one of the only Victors I trust from 4. She and I are the two main heads of the rebellion. The ones living in the Districts at least. Although Four a Career district, there are a few Victors who are on the rebel side. It's very lucky for me since they usually have the best information on the Capitol.

"Mags. How are you?"

A slight pause. I hear many people talking in the background. I realize that she must be in the Control Centre even though her tributes have died. "Pretty good. Marella gave birth to a baby boy yesterday." I vaguely remember her telling me Marella was pregnant. "His name is Finnick."

Marella is the daughter of Mags's best friend. Caspian, Mag's son, and Marella were the same age and best friends before Caspian was Reaped. After Marella's parents died in a boat accident when she was 17, Mags took her in. Although Marella doesn't live in District 4's Victors Village anymore, I know the two of them still talk every week.

"That's lovely. Send her my congratulations." I've met Marella and her husband once before. They both seem very nice.

"Of course, I will. Apparently he's got his dad's sea green eyes."

"Are you excited to meet him once you get back to 4?"

"I can't wait." There's a soft, wistful sigh. "It'll be like having a grandson."

I frown. It can't be easy for Mags. Her own two kids, Caspian and Caela, were both Reaped at 12, neither making it past the Bloodbath. I was still a teenager during those two Games but I remember watching the Capitol interview Mags after the Bloodbath. It was some bonus content everyone had to watch. At the time, I couldn't figure out why they were rubbing it in her face that her kids had died. Now I realize that it was a warning to the other Victors. We own you. Even when you think you're free, you're not. You'll never be free.

It's one of the many stories I've heard from Victors. All these stories have inspired me to take the rebellion further.

"Anyway," Mags says, seeming to pull herself back into the present. "What did you call me about?"

I glance up at the "hidden" microphone in the corner of my office. It's no secret that every major house in the Districts is bugged by the Capitol. The red light is off. Good. I had Beetee Latier, the genius Victor from 3, disable it when he came to 12 during his Victory Tour. "I was wondering if you had any information from the Capitol this year."

There's a pause and I can imagine Mags pondering this. "Well, there is one thing."

"Yes?"

There's footsteps and I hear a door close. She must have left the Control Centre, not wanting any potential Capitol supporters to gear our discussion.

"There's a rumour floating around with some of the Victors," she says softly. "About Snow."

I feel a shiver run up my spine. Rumours directly about Snow are never good.

"What is it?"

"Some of the Victors say that he's developed a new way to dispose of any serious rebels."

"As if killing them or their families wasn't enough."

"It's poison."

"What?"

"Leto was found dead in his house two days ago. His brother found him lying in his bedroom. The only thing they found out of place was a dropped glass of water. They think it might have been poisoned."

My breath whooshes out. I know Leto. He was my parents' closest friends and one of my best confidants in the Capitol. He and his brother, another rebel, were the ones who helped me get Morphling for Kolton. My heart pangs at the thought of him being dead.

"You think Snow figured out that he was a rebel and had him killed?"

"It's a very real possibility. He worked in the Capitol's government. Snow wouldn't want him working in such an influential position if he even suspected that Leto was not one hundred percent supportive of the Capitol."

"But he was always so careful."

"He must have let something slip. Or maybe someone else did."

I take a deep breath. "His brother thinks the water was poisoned?

"He had it secretly tested. There was an unknown chemical in it. He even fed some of the water to a rat. It was dead within minutes."

"Wow. Was it a different colour?"

"No. That's the scary part. The poison was undetectable."

I take another deep breath before I can freak out. I'm one of the leaders of this rebellion. I knew people I was close to could die. You have to stay strong, Justyn. Don't back out now.

"I'll have to call Lirio and send him my sympathies. It couldn't have been easy for him to walk into his brother's room and find him dead."

I regret the words almost as soon as I say them. The same thing happened to Mags and her husband. I suddenly wonder if he was poisoned as well all those years ago but I know better than to ask. I'm not sure I even want to know.

"We'll have to be on higher alert now," I quickly say. "If the poison is undetectable, we can't give Snow any reason to suspect any of us."

"For sure. I've already informed all the rebel Victors and to be more cautious with what they say while in the Capitol. Especially Reynald. Since he's made that mistake before."

"That's good. I don't want a repeat of what happened last time." After Reynald started talking about the rebellion while drunk on the phone with me, I had spent the entire day paranoid that the Capitol would figure out about it and execute us all.

"Me neither. It was a very close call."

"How is Reynald doing anyway?"

"Much better. Me and Milo took all his alcohol. Hasn't had any since that disaster of a phone call."

"Good move. Although I am surprised he gave it up without too bad of a fight."

"I think he found some motivation this year. His two remaining tributes are probably the best ones he's ever had."

I had been watching the Games just this morning. Haymitch and Maysilee have made it much further in this year's Games than District 12 has seen since Reynald won all those years ago.

"For sure. I really do hope one of them wins. Reynald needs a break from mentoring."

"For sure. Me and Milo have been helping him out since all our tributes are dead. I'm certain one of them will win. Maysilee is such a sweet girl. She reminds me of Caella, just stronger. My bet is on Haymitch though. Reynald seems to think so as well. Although I know he'd be ecstatic no matter which one of them wins."

"I'm sure he will. They have good chances, seeing as there are only six tributes left."

It's the evening of the eleventh day in the Games. Seeing as this is a Quarter Quell with double the tributes, they've died off surprisingly quick. It makes sense though. I haven't seen this many hazards in an Arena since the last Quarter Quell. The Gamemakers usually never use both mutts and poison for fear that too many tributes will fall victim to them. No hand-to-hand combat would be very boring for the Capitol.

"Yes," Mags agrees. I hear someone call her name and recognize the voice of another District 4 Victor. "I have to go," she sighs. "District 4's Victors have to sort out our leftover sponsor money. I'll call you if I have any updates, alright?"

"Alright, bye Mags. Take care."

"You too."

She hangs up and I'm left alone with thoughts of undetectable poisons and the true power Snow's wrath.

Maysilee Donner

Ever since we saw that girl from 9 this morning, I've been pretty out of it. I can't stop myself from thinking about how terrible that girl looked when we found her. How much she looked like Leila and everyone else I've killed with my poisoned darts. I've silently seethed at how the Gamemakers turned something as safe as water into something so deadly.

You were going to drink it too. If Haymitch hadn't been there, you both would be dead.

I feel an odd sense of guilt for having been lucky enough to have a smart ally and push it away. In a way, the Hunger Games really are about luck. One wrong move and you're dead.

Now that it's night, Haymitch has finally allowed us to take a break. I'm sure he is as tired as me. He's tense and jumps at the smallest noise. He's gotten more and more irritable and his hands are constantly shaking. Although he seems to be taking the struggles of the arena a lot worse than I am, he's definitely able to hide it from the cameras better. To everyone watching, they must only notice how I go to pieces whenever a past ally of mine is mentioned and not how awful Haymitch seems.

Haymitch has been trying to get me to talk about William and Leila since we saw the dead District 9 girl but I've refused so far. I still can't bear to think about William for more than a few seconds before my eyes start to burn with unshed tears.

Speaking of Haymitch, I glance over and see him rummaging through our packs again. He seems obsessed with organizing and rationing out our things, although I can't figure out why.

It must be something he had to do in the Seam.

I think of the emaciated kids I've seen when passing by the Seam and know that I'm probably right. Although I've gone to bed hungry many many times growing up, I know that my life has been far easier than it would have been had I grown up in the Seam. I vaguely wonder if life is like this in the other Districts as well. It's common knowledge that 12 is the poorest of all the Districts, but surely the Capitol wouldn't let any of the Districts prosper. The Capitol would rather keep every good thing for themselves.

Haymitch spins the blowtorch in his arm before placing it back into one of the black pack's carefully.

"We should just leave that here," I say, and he starts violently, whipping to look at me as though he's forgotten I'm right next to him. He seems to relax when he realizes that it's just me.

"Why would we do that?"

"Well, it's useless, isn't it? It's heavy and it's just taking up space. It's not like we have any use for a blowtorch."

He pauses and I know that there's something he isn't telling me. "We need it."

"For what?"

"I have a plan, remember?"

I sigh, wishing that my ally wasn't so secretive. I understand that he doesn't want any Gamemakers hearing his plan and ruining it but how can I be sure that he even has a plan if he won't tell me about it. "Are you ever going to give me more than the basics or do you expect me to just follow whatever you say blindly?"

He opens his mouth but is spared from having to respond when the anthem starts to play.

This is the first time in three days that the anthem is accompanied by a picture in the sky. We get a glimpse of the girl we saw earlier today.

Haymitch makes a noise in the back of his throat. "I recognize her now. I saw her at the poison station once during training. She wasn't very good."

I grimace. "I guess it makes sense that she died then."

"I didn't even realize that it was her this morning. The poison and all these days in the Arena made her look completely different."

I suddenly wonder what I would see if I had a mirror with me right now. Looking at Haymitch—his gaunt face, alert and dull eyes, trembling hands—he's hardly the person he was before the Games started. I wonder what Maylene sees now when she watches the Games. Do we still look identical?

Haymitch is still staring at the sky even after the girl's face has long disappeared. I wonder if he is having the same thoughts as me.

After a few minutes, he turns to look at me. "Did you want to get some sleep? I can keep watch if you'd like."

I think about the nightmares that plagued me all of last night. It seems as though I can't close my eyes for more than a few seconds without night terrors catching up to me. Haymitch though, hasn't seemed to have slept a wink since he recovered from his fight with the Careers. "What about you? I know you haven't slept at all for the past two days. How are you still standing?"

Even in the dark, I can see the shift in his expression. Something more haunted takes over.

"I'm not tired." His tone is final, like he doesn't want the matter to be pushed.

"Are you sure?" I push anyway. "I'm not going to kill you, you know?"

"I know. I just don't want to sleep."

"Why?" I wonder if he has nightmares as well.

"I just don't." He turns away, his voice snappish. "Now did you want to sleep or not?"

I sigh. Although I know I can't escape my nightmares, I simply don't have the strength to not sleep. "Yeah, I did."

"Okay. We can stay in trees again."

I grab two of the packs and start to climb the tree we were sitting against when Haymitch stops me.

"Wait," he says, holding something out in his hand. "You dropped this."

It's William's bracelet. I look down at my bare wrist. It must have slipped off my hand without me realizing. The sight of it makes my heart clench. I take it silently and put it back on. When I look up again, Haymitch is watching me.

His voice is quiet. "Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

Perhaps it's the shock of this morning or maybe it's my exhaustion at keeping it all in, but I tell him.

"You know how Leila died. She was the first of my allies to die."

He looks away, almost as if he can't look at me while we discuss it. "Who were your other allies?"

"Me, William, and Leila. Mazie and Miller, the siblings from Nine. And Ana," I frown as I say her name. "One of the girls from 10."

He pauses. "I remember her. She was on the pedastal beside mine at the Bloodbath." Another pause. "She didn't seem very trustworthy."

"She wasn't," I say bitterly. "She turned on us."

Haymitch turns, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

I quickly give Haymitch an overview of my time in the Games so far and he listens in stoic silence. The darkness of the night gives me the freedom to let tears flow silently down my face as I recall the worst days of my life.

Something in his eyes betrays that he wants to comfort me, but Haymitch doesn't say anything during my story. His breathing hitches when I recount Leila's end with the poison and I see genuine pain in his eyes. He must have had a soft spot for the little Seam girl after all.

He grimaces at Mazie's beheading and frowns the whole time I talk about Miller. I speed through that part, worried that the gruesome tale will set him on a Capitol-hating rampage.

Ana's betrayment doesn't seem to shock him as much as I thought it would and a small part of me suspects that he was always wary of her. Maybe if I hadn't let her join my alliance, William would still be alive.

But what difference would it have made? One of you would have had to die eventually.

I take a deep breath. Now for the hardest part of the story.

"I watched William die too."

Haymitch's stare is as still as ice but his voice is tinged with empathy. "What happened?"

I force myself not to cry, speaking as calmly as I can. "The two of us were on the volcano when it erupted. We were burned and not that well off, but we still got out. We got pretty far from it too." I take a shaky breath. "Then he started coughing. Like he was choking." My voice cracks and I sit down hard on the grass. "Then he collapsed."

It's silent for a long time and I can almost see as Haymitch internalizes the information. Finally, he says in a hushed voice, "Dust shock."

I lift my head up in surprise. I've heard of dust shock before. It's all too common back in District 12. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Haymitch's voice is short and clipped. His breathing is loud in the silence.

"How do you know?"

He glances at me and I catch a glimpse of his face. Tired and haunted. I know I look the same way.

"That's probably what happened to my dad," he says. "If he didn't burn to death." He sits down beside me and takes my hand. It trembles in my grip. "I'm sorry, Maysilee."

I've never heard his voice sound so sincere. "It's okay."

We lapse back into silence—I've noticed Haymitch rarely ever starts conversations. He looks deep in thought, playing with the ring he wears on his hand. I vaguely wonder if it's an engagement ring, but there doesn't seem a right way to ask. Either way, it's definitely a source of comfort for him. Like me with William's bracelet.

I ask the question I wanted to ask since we first allied. "What about you? Who did you run into?" I feel like we are close enough that he will finally tell me.

Haymitch retracts his hand quickly and busies himself with something in his pack, turning away from me again, refusing to meet my eyes. "I ran into the remaining boy from 11 the day before the volcano erupted." I know he's one of the others who are still alive so it must not have been too bad of a fight. "And I bumped into the Careers on the first night."

I sit up straight. "What? You fought them twice?"

He nods tersely. "It was after the anthem."

I stare at him. "How on earth did you make it out alive? What happened?"

There's a soft clatter as he drops whatever he was holding in his pack. He worries at his lip and I wait as he pieces together an answer. "It was a pretty bad fight. But after I killed one of the girls from 2 they all left."

I remember seeing the other girl from 2 in the sky on the second night. She was Haymitch's kill.

"So you're the one who killed her." Another face comes to mind. The young District 7 boy whose face appeared in the sky after that of my first kill. "Did you kill the boy from 7 too? The little one."

"What?" Haymitch looks at me quickly, his eyes widening with anger. He seems to forget where we are and his voice rises to a shout. "Of course, I didn't!"

"Shh!"

He quiets down almost immediately but his face looks so wounded that I mumble an apology, not even sure why he seems so bothered. It's not as though he hasn't killed before.

When he speaks again, his voice is back to a mumble. "His name was Jack."

"What?"

"The boy from 7. The little one. His name was Jack."

I blink. "How did you know that?" Another possibility comes into my head. "Was he your ally?" I doubt the words even as they leave my mouth. If Haymitch wouldn't ally with his district partners, why would he ally with a little boy from a random district who probably wouldn't be able to back him in a fight.

Haymitch's hand tugs at his collar and his eyes are focused on the ground. "Kind of. No, not really. I just talked with him and his friend during training."

I remember something else. Two young boy cowering on the floor while the Careers screamed at them. Haymitch yelling at them, rage all over his face. At the time, I thought his anger was random and misdirected but now I think I get it. "The two boys you defended during training. They reminded you of your brother, didn't they?"

He looks up fast, his mask of indifference slipping for just a second. "Yeah. I didn't want them to get hurt."

I bite my lip. "The Careers killed him, right?"

He takes a deep breath and nods.

"Both of them?"

"No. Rowan died at the Bloodbath. The Careeres cornered Jack that first night." He swallows hard. "I was hiding out nearby. And I couldn't even save him." He presses his hands against his eyes and I wonder if he's fighting back tears. I can't imagine strong, stoic Haymitch ever crying and the idea unnerves me.

"Hey." I place a hand on his arm. He jumps, shrinking away from the contact. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sure you did all you could."

"Maybe," he laughs bitterly, "but it wasn't enough. It never is."

It's exactly how I feel about William. I tried so hard and he still died.

"It's late," Haymitch stands, his moments of weakness passing. "Come on, you should get to bed."

I blink at the sudden change in conversation. I want to protest. I've finally gotten a glimpse of what could be the real Haymitch. But his words remind me just how tired I am. All this talking and bringing up bad memories has drained me to the core, making me suddenly exhausted.

"But what about you?"

"I'm not sleeping, remember?"

I'm too tired to argue. I know he's much too stubborn to change his mind. "Wake me up if you get tired?"

"Okay," he agrees but I know that he won't. Hopefully his refusal to sleep won't hinder us later on.

I climb up my tree and pillow my head in my hands, staring at William's bracelet as I slip into yet another night of restless slumber, plagued with nightmares.

Haymitch Abernathy

Even from my tree, I can hear Maysilee tossing and turning, mumbling under her breath. It's a wonder she hasn't fallen out of there yet.

Seeing as I didn't see anyone at all for hours, I ended up dozing off a couple times during the night—my body can't stay awake forever—but each time a nightmare woke me up, leaving me trembling and terrified each time. Now, after it's happened for the third time this night alone, I've given up on trying to get even a little sleep. I can't deal with the nightmares. Not now.

Why should I give the Capitol the satisfaction of seeing me shake?

Maysilee doesn't seem to mind if people think she's weak for her nightmares. Or more likely, she is too tired to care and I'm just the odd one in this scenario. I'm sure most normal people don't refuse to sleep because their nightmares are far too vivid for them to handle.

I hear a sharp cry and immediately shoot up in my tree, almost falling down. The sun is just rising and the rays get in my eyes as I try to find the source of the scream.

It's quiet.

I frown, straining my ears to hear the sound again. Surely, I would have noticed if people were close enough to be fighting. But then again, I'm so tired that it's completely possible for me to have missed it. The scream comes again, louder this time, and I'm forcefully reminded of Jack's terrified cries the day the Careers found him. But this one is different. Older and more feminine sounding. I frown again. The only girls left in this Arena are Maysilee and Shimmer. And I can't ever imagine the bloodthirsty Shimmer having a scream that is so terrified and filled with pain.

I look over to Maysilee's tree and sure enough, she's thrashing around, screaming and crying. Seeing her trapped in the depths of what must be an awful nightmare brings out my empathy very quickly. But I immediately have another concern. She's going to get us found. Her screams are so loud I'm pretty sure every single tribute in the Arena can hear her. I have to get her quiet before they figure out where we are. And come after us.

"Maysilee!" I half-whisper half-shout. "Wake up!"

Of course, she doesn't hear me. I can barely hear myself over her cries.

I call out again and when that doesn't rouse her, I sling my packs over my shoulders, meaning to move to her. I'm lucky I picked two that are so close. As I find a branch sturdy enough to hold me, she wakes up with a jolt, crying out.

I watch silently as she comforts herself, shaking and trembling. Her fingers where they grip the tree are white. I'm suddenly reminded of Serena, who was always there to comfort me when I was terrified and occasionally had nightmares of her own. My nightmares, graphic and vivid, were always about my dad, seeing him die a hundred ways in front of me, his blood splattering my face and Hayden's cries. I think of how we used to fall asleep in the tall grass bordering District 12. How we knew the other would be there to comfort us when we woke up.

Maysilee doesn't have that. I itch to go and comfort her. There's something about being in the Arena, it makes you struggle to cling to your last bits of humanity. I'm a killer, a murderer, and I don't know if I'll ever find peace. But there's still a part of me that wants to help people.

I know the Capitol must be watching us now, people wondering what I will do. If I'll show Maysilee kindness or push her away. I've done both before. My act of indifference and arrogance is wavering. Perhaps people will just think the Games brought out a little kindness in me. My last bit of humanity.

"Maysilee." I crawl over to her. She looks up, a little startled, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark red. "Are you okay?"

She sighs and shakes her head. "No. I miss him. I miss all of them."

I know that she isn't just talking about William and the rest of the allies she has lost. I know, from being in these Games myself, that she's also talking about her family. Like me, she longs to see them again, hold them close, never letting go. It's all too obvious that one of us, if not both of us, will never see our loved ones again.

"I know," I say softly. These words aren't for the cameras. "I miss them too."

"These nightmares are awful. They taunt me. Showing me things I don't want to see or things I can't have." She wipes at her eyes with a sniffle. "This isn't fair, Haymitch. I want to go home."

Me too. "I have nightmares too."

She looks at me and I know she's remembering the day before our interviews. My cheeks burn with shame and I hope she doesn't bring it up. I don't want everyone to know how easily I can go to pieces. Serena already knows about my bouts of panic—she helped me with them all the time—but no one else at home knows. And I want to keep it that way.

Luckily she picks a different question. "How do you deal with them? The nightmares?"

I laugh hollowly. "I don't. Haven't you noticed I don't sleep?"

She looks at me and her eyes show just how dumb she thinks I am. Still, when she speaks, I hear the slight amusement. "You're just going to collapse eventually, you know. That's a terrible coping strategy."

"I've noticed." I say dryly. She gives me a brief grin before her face falls back into despair yet again. I sober up as well. "I just can't handle it. Seeing them in my dreams like that. Seeing them all die, over and over."

Maysilee looks away for a long time and when she finally looks back at me, her eyes are shining again.

"I wish we could all win," she whispers. Her voice is so low I can barely hear it. So the Capitol can't hear.

Her words make my chest physically ache, and for a moment, I can't catch my breath.

I wish we could all win too.

But I can't tell her that. It would just make her wish for it even more. And I've learned the hard way how dangerous wishes are.

"The Capitol would never allow that." My voice is low but not as low as hers was. "Then it wouldn't be the Hunger Games."

She wipes at her eyes quickly, her voice turning sour. "The Hunger Games suck."

A surprised laugh bursts out of me. I never would have believed that Maysilee Donner, who almost beat me up for bad-mouthing the Capitol, just did the same thing.

She raises her eyebrows. "I didn't know you could laugh like that."

I cross my arms over my chest. "What? Why not?"

"You're so—" she waves her hands around, "—I don't know, tough." At my look—she's seen me break down at least twice—she gives a huff. "You act tough anyway."

We're in dangerous territory. There's no way I'm letting the Capitol know how vulnerable I really am. How vulnerable we all are. No one can ever see me weak.

So I steer the conversation around. "You know what?"

"What?"

"You should have told the Capitol how much you liked William. You know, at the interviews."

As expected, her face falls at the mention of her dead boyfriend but when she truly hears my words, her nose scrunches up. "What? No. Why would I ever do that?"

"Come on, Maysilee. Just picture it." I wave my arms around like she did a few minutes ago. "You confess your love for him. And then he immediately does the same. And the two of you embrace on stage. Maybe share a kiss." Her cheeks turn red. "The Capitol would have loved it. The star-crossed lovers of District 12. The underdogs finding light in the darkness. Hope in despair."

I can tell she is captivated for a moment. Maybe thinking of how much more time she could have had with her dead ally. Her dead lover. But then, she shakes her head.

"What good would it have done?" she sighs. "We're still in the Hunger Games. And a fight to the death is quite an odd time to be romantically involved."

I snort. "Romantically involved? You Merchant kids sure have a great vocabulary." Maysilee rolls her eyes. "But no, I've thought it through. The Capitol loves you two so much that," I pause for dramatic flair, "they decide to make a rule change."

"And what would that change be?"

My imagination fizzles out. "I don't know," I shrug. "Maybe that two tributes can win."

She frowns. "If what? If they're romantically involved?"

I pause. "True. I could see how obvious that would be. Maybe it would be two tributes can win if they are from the same district?"

"Maybe."

We sit in silence, both of us imagining a world with that rule change. One less life would have been lost.

But Maysilee sighs loudly after a few minutes pass. "That would have been nice. But it would never happen."

I sigh too, my brief moment of something other than despair long gone. "I know."

"Should we get going?"

"We can rest for a bit first if you'd like."

Maysilee shrugs and I can see the dark circles under her eyes. "I don't think I'll be able to fall back asleep anyway. I'd rather get moving. Then at least, I'd be doing something."

I understand how she feels. "Okay."

When we're on the ground, she turns to me. "Do I get to know a little more about your plan?"

I shake my head and motion at the cameras. "I'll tell you later." I don't want to admit to her that even I only have a vague idea of what I'm doing.

She looks annoyed but doesn't push it. She's probably realized I'm not going to give her much information. I want to, but I don't trust that the Capitol won't hear my plans and immediately set out to make them impossible. I know that the end of the Arena has something important. There has to be something there.

Maysilee is uncharacteristically quiet as we walk. I can't tell if she's cross that she doesn't know much about my plan or if she is just tired. Probably both. Either way, it's bad for me because her not talking is making it very hard for me to stay awake.

I catch my eyes slipping closed on their own account more than once and have to pinch myself to stay alert. The trees around me blur into one green mess.

We must walk for at least another three hours, although I can barely tell with the effort it takes to stay awake. I silently curse my stubbornness and decision to not sleep. I wish I would have realized how tired I'd be after days without proper sleep.

I'm so tired that I don't hear Maysilee calling my name.

"Haymitch. Haymitch, move!"

"What—"

I look up, only to find someone running straight towards me. I make to move out of the way but my reflexes are far too slow. With a warrior cry, the boy from District 10 swings a cimeter at me and it catches my arm, sending me stumbling. I grimace. The pain is immediate and fierce.

"Pathetic 12," the boy—who I had missed in training—growls. "You die here."

He's older than me, and dwarfs me considerably. I almost have to crane my neck to look up at him. Still, I school my face to show no pain or fear. "Likely story."

He grins maliciously and swings at me again. I duck out of the way, dropping my packs and reaching for my knives.

"I'm going to win," he says, and I notice how his smile is just a little too wide. His breathing is heavy and his eyes have a crazed look to them. He swings the cimeter at me again and I know I'm lucky the blade is just a little too short to reach me. "I'm going to carve you up just like the cows I did back home." I shiver involuntarily. I've seen what happens to tributes in the Games. This boy is on his way to insanity.

My hand finds my longest knife and I bring it up suddenly, stabbing his side. He stumbles back, howling in pain. The cimeter wavers in his grip.

He presses his free hand to his wound and it comes away covered in blood. His eyes darken. "Your death will be so brutal you'll wish you hadn't seen me coming."

I'm about to reply when I see Maysilee standing a few feet behind him, a dart to her lips. You didn't see her coming, I think bitterly.

Maysilee releases the dart and it lands in the boy's neck. I step away instantly, bracing myself for the twitching and the blood that is sure to start pouring from this boy's mouth. Don't freak.

But it doesn't come. Instead, his eyes fly open in surprise and he whips around, the dart from his neck falling to the ground with a soft thump. Behind him, Maysilee is jumping back, eyes wide, suddenly aware of her mistake. She didn't poison the dart.

"Stupid girl," he growls. Overcome with anger, he flings his bloody cimeter at her. Maysilee shrieks and twists out of the way but the blade catches her shoulder, sending her flying into a tree. She gasps but keeps her blowgun in her hands.

The boy, seemingly forgetting about me, moves towards my ally. The moment he isn't facing me, I spring into action. I jump at this giant of a boy, using my full body weight to send him to the floor. He lets out a savage cry and twists, almost sending me flying off him. We struggle and another dart flies into the boy's shoulder. This one isn't poisoned either but it distract him enough for me to get a firm grip. I dig my heels into the ground and slash my knife at his neck. I shudder at the sound of the blade ripping through skin. His eyes barely have time to widen—with surprise, with rage—before they slip closed and he slumps underneath me.

I scramble off of the boy I just killed, swaying slightly at the sound of the cannon. I take a second to catch my breath and stare down at the boy on the ground. I didn't even know his name. Now, I'll never know it.

You killed him. He's dead because of you.

"Haymitch."

I turn around and see Maysilee leaning against a tree, her hands at her shoulder and her blowgun on the floor.

"Are you okay?"

I nod, my mind spinning. "I'm fine."

She pushes herself away from the tree and walks towards me slowly. I see the grimace on her face.

"I forgot he was one of the ones still alive."

I nod. "Me too. I guess I didn't want to think about who else we may have to face."

"Well, we don't have to worry about him anymore." She looks down at his bloody neck. "He's dead."

My stomach turns. "Yeah." Then, I remember something else. "We're in the top five."

Maysilee smiles sadly. "Looks like we are. I didn't think I would make it this far."

"Neither did I," I say truthfully. I hadn't. I was so sure I would die. And now there's a chance I could make it home.

Maysilee reaches down and grabs the knife I left on the floor. She wipes it off on the grass and hands it to me. "Here."

I take it by the handle, taking extra care not to touch the blood that remains. "Thanks. And thanks for distracting him with your darts. That was smart."

She shakes her head regretfully. "I should have poisoned them. It would have killed him way faster. But there aren't any of those fruits around here."

I glance around, finding that she's right. "Still. I would never have been able to catch him off guard without you."

"I guess we make a good team."

"We do." I frown at the gash on her shoulder. "Stay still," I reach for one of her packs. "I'll bandage your shoulder."

I wrap one of our cloths around her shoulder and she frowns. "Did you know he was coming?"

"What?"

She points at the body on the floor. "I tried to warn you but I don't think you heard me."

I didn't. I was barely awake. "I must have been distracted."

She frowns. "Usually you're the alert one."

I shrug and look for something else to say. Having finished with her arm, I step back and spot a red pack on the floor. "Is that ours?"

Maysilee follows my finger and shakes her head. "No. I didn't even know the Cornucopia had red packs. It's much smaller than ours."

"Oh, it must be the boy's pack."

"Should we take it?"

I reach out to grab it. "We might as well. We killed him after all."

Maysilee gathers the rest of our stuff as I open it. "What's in there?"

"Food," I reply. "And not much else."

"That's good. It's not like we need anything else any way. How much?"

I thumb through the contents. "A loaf of bread, some apples slices, and a few crushed crackers."

"Great. We can have a proper lunch for once."

"Shouldn't we save it?"

Maysilee gives me a look. "That's probably what he was doing. We don't know how long the Games are going to last for. We should enjoy it while we have the chance."

I frown. Years of having to save food in the Seam has made me extremely frugal when it comes to basic necessities. I'm not used to the idea of enjoying anything. You always have to save. For the next year, the next winter, the next famine.

But I might not even have a tomorrow.

"Okay."

She gives me a dry smile. "It's settled then. We're having a feast today."

I scoff. "We'll have the most extravagant feast the Capitol has ever seen. A luxury. Plain bread with a side of apples and cracker crumbs."

Maysilee smirks. "They'll be so jealous of us." She picks up her blowgun and hands my packs over to me. "Come on, let's go. The hovercraft must be waiting for us to move. We'll have our lunch once we're out of its' way."

I give the boy from 10 a long look. I know he'll be another figure coming to haunt my dreams. I wonder if I'll ever get his wide eyes and large stature out of my head. Zipping up the boy's pack, I turn to follow Maysilee.

Top five, my brain says. You're almost there.

But I look at Maysilee's burned locks, think of Shimmer's sadistic grin, remember Velvet's viscous glare, and find myself dreading whatever it is that's coming next.

Trying to keep you guys updated on the rebellion. It may seem random to have had that Justyn and Mags conversation but trust me, it's very important. Also, did anyone catch the Finnick easter egg? I figured he would be born right around now and still be 14 for his Reaping.

Both Haymitch and Maysilee are dealing with a lot of guilt over the deaths they couldn't stop but they finally got to confide a little more in each other. You guys also get to see Haymitch think of the star-crossed lovers idea. And then there was that fight with the boy from 10. Now there's only five tributes left. And I'm sure you guys know what's coming next...