A/N: You're still here, which is more than one can say for, well, far too many Tributes. I make no apologies, as slaughter has sadly been on the canonical menu since forever.
Thank you to everyone reading and adding this story to their lists, and a bottle of your favorite cool beverage to all who review!
Chapter Eleven: Finding Water
"She'll be wanting our water," Peeta was telling the Career Alliance on the screen that evening. "She'd come here."
Cato took stabs at empty air with a wide-bladed sword. "Are you sure? You're not trying to protect the other Tribute from your District, there, Strongman?"
Gale had heard that Strongman was the nickname the others in their alliance had given Peeta. It had a derogatory edge, as if the only thing Peeta had going for him was muscles, but his strength had served them during the day already, in a fistfight that had resulted in three Tributes being knocked unconscious.
One of them had died. It was possible Peeta was responsible. It was likely to be someone else, though. The baker's son didn't seem the type to make an early kill like that.
"Protect Katniss? Are you kidding? She's scarier than I am. She volunteered, remember." Peeta scoffed and took a knife from his pocket. It wasn't a large weapon, but it was the only one Gale had seen on the younger man.
"So did I," Cato said, growling a little and coming around as if to make Peeta a target. "Does that make me scary?"
"Hell, yes," Peeta stated, smiling. "Like you didn't know."
Marvel and Glimmer, hands linked, followed Cato and they all studied Peeta. And then the focus of the screen shifted to a dark cave and the sound of rushing water.
In the penthouse lounge, Haymitch whooped. "She found some! Way to go, Katniss!"
They had gathered again to watch that evening, with Gale feeling guilty as they had had a full meal, drank their fill of whatever they wanted to drink, and had a climate-controlled environment. His day had been long and complicated, involving making arrangements to hire that pilot—Flex—and to find where Haymitch had disappeared and when he planned on returning.
He still hadn't found out where the older Mentor had gone, but Gale had his suspicions, based upon the nearly manic energy that had shone from Haymitch's eyes when they'd met in the Plaza before dinner.
"Can't tell ya," Haymitch had said gleefully. "But you're a smart kid, you'll figure it out before tomorrow, I'm pretty sure. Also, border security is a lot less stringent than I'd figured on."
"Border as in over there or over here?" Gale didn't want to be more specific, but he had to ask what he could.
"Yeah," was all Haymitch would say. "Yeah."
Haymitch had had more than twenty years to plot, out there in Victors' Village. Twenty years to drink, plan, and wish for revenge for his family, his girlfriend, the life that he'd lost when he'd been Reaped. Gale knew that there was a lot of anger underneath the skin of the older Victor.
And Haymitch knew that he knew.
Gale suspected—though he couldn't say he knew, exactly—that when he won the Games the year before, a spark was lit in Haymitch. Igniting a drive to get that vengeance he'd been craving for so long.
He did his best to banish his thoughts on that, though. Because he didn't want to imagine losing Haymitch Abernathy, as odd as the man was; he was the irascible uncle that everyone wanted to make sure had a seat at the fire, a drink in hand, and something to eat. He was the man who knew how to fix things that were broken, or to make you see the value in the breaking.
Because he was a survivor. Like Gale was, himself.
"Oh no!" It was Portia, and she jumped up from the sofa, hands out. Effie Trinket had been sitting next to her and she stiffened as Portia continued. "No, Peeta! Don't do that!"
Peeta and Marvel were staring one another down as the others cleared a circle for them. Gale's gut clenched. This would not end well. "Run if you have to," he muttered to the viewing screen.
"Go! Go! Go!" the Tributes were shouting, cheering on the fighting teens. Gale couldn't look away, sure that he'd see Peeta's blood spilled right there as the sky went dark.
And then Peeta lost his knife.
Haymitch slapped his leg. "Shit."
Effie hissed. "I hate this. Every year. I hate this."
Portia turned and left the room, hands spread from her body as if to push everything away. Cinna didn't say anything, so Gale didn't turn to look at him, choosing instead to watch, just in case.
Marvel crowed, glancing at Glimmer. "What you got for the winner?"
"You'll see!" she teased, looking for all the world like a Capitol girl on a date, Gale thought.
"Great!" Marvel turned, blade swinging through the air, but Peeta had moved, and the camera hadn't shown it happening. There he went—rolling and hitting Marvel's legs out from under him! The District 1 Tribute fell…on his own sword.
The cannon fired a few seconds later and Peeta was left standing in the diminished circle of Careers, looking stunned and wary. The Tributes all looked to Cato who nudged Marvel's bleeding body with his foot. "One down," was all he said. "If you're in the mood to fight, Strongman, let's go to the river."
"I don't think she'll be there, though," Peeta protested.
Glimmer, still staring at Marvel's cooling body, dashed tears from her cheeks. Gale wondered if they were real or just good acting on her part. Pretty girls did tend to get good Sponsorship at the Games. "I don't care what you think, Strongman. I just want this to be over. Let's go."
The focus shifted back to the Hunger Games desk, where Flickerman and Templesmith were ready with their trite commentary. Haymitch tapped his shoulder and the two of them left the room.
"Effie," Haymitch said flatly. "Hawthorne and I have to talk. Call if they show what happens at the river."
"I hate this!" she said, her voice shrill. "I am going to need the maximum dose of Sleep, tonight!"
"Just remember to wait 'til you get to your room," Haymitch called as they walked away. "I'm not carrying you to bed this time!"
"Oh, you! It was just the once and you could've gotten an Avox to do it!"
Gale growled. "When did it become all right to have a slave class?"
"When did it become all right to kill off over twenty children a year for something that happened seventy-five years ago?" Haymitch countered bitterly. He opened the door to his quarters. "Come on. I've got the latest stats on the remaining Tributes," he said clearly, obviously in a bid to remind Gale that the walls had ears.
"Great. Any projected alliances?" Gale improvised, refraining from rolling his eyes at the lame repartee.
"Well, Katniss and Rue don't surprise me, but—" Haymitch paused before indicating they should each take a chair and sit down— "I don't know how long it'll last."
Gale huffed. "Why?" He spoke like they did on the broadcasts. "It's obvious that Katniss is going to take care of Rue like she'd care for Primrose, her sister." It was all right, he'd decided, to call Prim by name; they were from the same district and it was established that he knew Katniss and so, by extension, her whole family.
Haymitch sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired. They both were. "Hawthorne. Our Girl on Fire has a target on her back. You saw the Careers."
The dread that poured through him was like nothing he'd felt when he'd been in the Arena. "I did, yeah." He checked his watch. "Did you see the numbers, today?"
"Down three, last I heard, but there'll be another update in an hour." Haymitch rolled his chair to the small writing desk. It was a sleek white piece of furniture with what looked like inlaid jade along the edges. He started writing but was speaking at the same time. "And Peeta, you know, is doing pretty well. Good fighter. I was surprised to see that, to be honest." He continued to write, motioning with his free hand for Gale to take over the burden of maintaining verbal observations.
"So was I. He did well in training. His hand-to-hand went well, and he's got stamina." Haymitch rolled his hands so Gale kept going. "Wish he'd stayed with Katniss. The other Districts mostly have their Tributes together just here at the beginning. Except for Eleven," he went on, watching as Haymitch kept writing. The other man made a sound that could have been anything, so Gale continued to let his mind wander out loud. "That surprised me. I would have thought Thrush would have wanted to stay with Rue to keep an eye on her."
"Remember what I told you last year," Haymitch muttered, frowning over the paper, which he then folded with short, rapid presses of his fingers.
"To reconcile myself to my imminent demise, yeah. I guess both the Elevens learned that one already."
Haymitch pushed himself away from the desk, tossing the folded paper to land on Gale's lap. Gale didn't remark upon it, as Haymitch got back to the spurious reason for their private conference. "So, we have to decide, Hawthorne, who we're throwing our weight behind."
"I hate this." Gale pushed his chair so that he rolled across the floor to the wardrobe on one side of the room. Haymitch rolled his eyes but Gale could not have cared less. "Right. So." He glared at his counterpart before saying what he thought would be impartial, keeping Katniss from being a target. Protecting himself and his family. All that he had to manage to get what he wanted… "Peeta's looking strong, right now. The others in his alliance didn't go after him after the fight with Marvel."
"Do you think that was because Marvel basically died from bad balance or what?"
"How should I know?" What the hell? he mouthed silently. "I think it's because he's charismatic and they know it. The Careers are savvy about what looks good to Sponsors. They grow up with it. Peeta is a natural, that way, and they're going to stick with him."
A startled look in his eye, Haymitch nodded slowly. "Good points. So, if he stays with them, do you think they'll just wait the rest out or go hunting?"
"Hard to say this early."
"And Katniss?"
That was the rub. Haymitch's gestures were saying, Read the paper, you idiot!
Gale unfolded it as noiselessly as he could while responding to the audible question. "Well, she's tough. But Rue makes her vulnerable." And he began reading while Haymitch began listing Katniss's strengths and weaknesses—considerably edited, but also acknowledging that she received the Gamemakers' highest score.
Tomorrow is the earliest the border can be compromised. I will be handling my own score as soon as possible after it happens, so be prepared to start your vacation early. There will likely be a lot of 'em if they pull it off tomorrow. Lots of Ts on the run.
Now. I left word with Sae. She's smart. She will get the others out as soon as there's a breech. She might bring along others, but that's not your concern. You get yourself out with whoever gets to you on time.
Do not wait for me. I won't make it, I don't think. But that's okay.
If we're lucky, you won't have to do this again, eh? Find Boggs here.
Haymitch had drafted a sketch of Panem with the district numbers in their usual places. Even District 13. Which was where Gale had been planning on going, anyway. So that was good.
Tell him I sent ya. May the odds be ever in your favor.
Gale blinked, swallowed, and felt his eyes burning as he stared at Haymitch, who was still talking.
"And that bow worked, but will she have time to make enough arrows, is what I want to know. And what if she's got to go hand to hand?"
"She did pretty good in training," Gale managed to say over the lump in his throat. "An eleven, remember?"
Haymitch sent him the three-finger salute from Twelve and Gale returned it. He didn't know how else to respond.
Effie's shrill voice broke into the momentary lull in Haymitch's monologue. "Haymitch! Gale! They found them!"
Bolting out of their chairs so that the furniture rolled too fast and collided with the bed and chest of drawers, Gale and Haymitch scrambled to get to the viewing screen in the lounge. Cinna, Portia, and Effie were on their feet, fists clenched as the cameras ramped up their dark sight viewing to enhance the details on the confrontation to come.
What Gale saw, after studying the nearly motionless scene was that the Career Alliance had arrayed behind Cato from District 2 as the apparent leader. Behind him were Glimmer, Clove, the Tributes from Four, and Peeta. The sun had set by that time, but the sky over the Arena was lightened and darkened at the whim of the Gamemakers, so there was enough light to make sure the cameras got all the grisly details.
"Hey, Girl on Fire!" Cato yelled into the shadows. The Alliance was standing in full view on a shelf of what looked like granite, while the river drifted at their feet. "You shouldn't be anywhere near the water." He laughed at the lame joke and the Tributes with him laughed as well. Even Peeta appeared to be amused.
Gale reminded himself that the younger man knew how to put on a public face, though, so he didn't read too much into Peeta's current association.
Katniss didn't respond verbally, but two arrows from two different vantage points had Glimmer and one of Tributes from Four dancing off the rock. The lad from Four shrieked before he started cursing, saying something about his ankle.
Cato turned to him. "Shut up! I can't hear what they're up to, idiot!"
Arrows were fired from another, different, spot in the trees on the other side of the river, but neither Katniss nor Rue had said anything. Gale wondered what they were trying to do. He figured Katniss had taught the youngest Tribute how to use a bow, in the most general terms. Firing arrows—even badly—could keep the other side off balance, which might be enough. Maybe.
Glimmer climbed back on the rock and Portia made some sort of odd sound when the District 1 girl edged to Peeta's side and whispered something in his ear.
With a nod, Peeta moved to stand next to Cato. "Katniss, come on. Enough. You're drawing this out for no reason."
Another arrow flew from the trees, this time actually hitting Clove in the foot. Gale could see the shock and anger on the girl's face as she jerked one of the knives sheathed on her arm and let it fly into the trees.
Every person in the penthouse suite, including the Avox in the corner, held their breath. Nothing happened. No scream, no shout, no apparent movement…until there was some. A quick bending of a branch and then another arrow!
"What the hell is Katniss playing at?" Haymitch growled.
Just then, the screen split to show another scene, and Claudius Templesmith provided commentary.
"Would you look at that? If you've been watching all day—and you know we have!—you will remember that the main Alliance this year was debating on whether or not to track down District Twelve's Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire! Peeta Mellark said she'd be trying for the bottled water and other supplies that the Alliance had gathered together. They'd been talking about booby trapping it only this morning, if you remember."
"I do indeed, Claudius." Caesar Flickerman's far-too-happy face flashed on the second half of the screen before the entire screen's focus switched to the Cornucopia and then the trees beyond it. "Remember this view, ladies and gentlemen. This is where it all began, this year, and there, just in the trees, you can see stacks of supplies and weapons. This year's big Alliance has gathered all they could from the Cornucopia, it would appear. Now, if you look very carefully, you can see—ah, there we go, thank you Gamemakers—highlighted with a flaming orange, ha ha, for the Girl on Fire, is indeed the Girl on Fire. She's creeping through the trees, apparently to pilfer from the supplies!"
"Good thing the booby traps weren't established," Claudius said offscreen. "Could have been messy."
"I wonder what she's…oh, yeah. It's water. And look, she's got a bag of something."
"If she's there," Templesmith asked, his voice childlike in its wonder, "I wonder who's firing the arrows at the river?"
"Let's switch over to see, shall we?"
Haymitch snorted. "I told her to find water. She did. Twice. Why couldn't she just stay at the river?"
"It'd tie her down, you know that," Gale fumed at his Mentor. "If she is reliant on the river, they'll know where to trap her. Like a hunter does his prey."
Haymitch grunted and Cinna—who had turned to stare at him—asked, "She's been hunting?"
"Hm?" Gale said, pretending to be innocent on that score. "Katniss? I'd never even asked about that." Hunting was illegal, and he'd never actually asked her if she did it. Just asked her to meet him, or vice versa.
Clearing his throat, Haymitch pointed at the screen. "All right. So. I guess she, what, made a bow and arrow. Bunch of arrows. So that Rue had a way to defend herself?"
"She was the distraction," Gale surmised, trying to relax and sit on the sofa. The others followed his example, surprising him a little. "So I'm going to guess that when Rue runs out of arrows, she'll run away. She's fast and it's dark."
Effie huffed and crossed her legs. "What about Peeta? Did he really abandon her?"
"I don't think so," Portia said softly, rubbing her hands together. "He's a distraction, too. He...he mentioned wanting to keep an eye on the Careers."
Haymitch slapped the arm of the chair he was in. "I told him to stick with her!"
The picture returned to the river. "Look." Gale pointed at the screen and everyone turned once again to focus on it. "Looks like they're going to cross the river." He felt sick. Little Rue was by herself, over there.
"You owe me for my foot!" Clove shouted, though she was seated and treating her wound with fresh water. "I'll burn you up, Girl on Fire!"
Peeta moved ahead, and Gale had to believe it was so that he could stand with Katniss and Rue if necessary. "C'mon, Katniss. You've run out of arrows, right? You had to have. You didn't take the quiver at the Cornucopia."
"Right! Stupid girl didn't even try for the weapons." Clove looked with disgust at the arrow she'd removed from her own body. "This thing is so shoddy that it'll break if I look at it too hard!"
Gale noted that she didn't break it, however. An intact arrow—bloodied or not—was valuable.
Peeta was scowling into the trees. "Katniss Everdeen! You're never getting to this water alive the way it's going now." A rock hit him on the head and Peeta dropped to his knees, clutching at one eye. "Hey!"
An axe in her hand, Glimmer sloshed through the thigh-deep water. "You know, I bet you are out of arrows! Didn't see you get anything of use at the Cornucopia yesterday, so all you've got left are rocks, right? Ha!"
Cato leapt from exposed rock to exposed rock, reaching the opposite bank with disgusting ease. He slapped the flat of his sword blade against one hand, and the fading light from the "sky" seemed to glance off the shining metal. After a glance behind him, he shrugged and rocked his head back and forth as if to say, "All right, then."
The final Tribute—the girl from Four—called, "I've got night vision goggles!"
"No shit?" Cato shouted, laughing. "Well, get 'em up here! Let's go hunting!"
The laugh seemed to be what the Careers needed. Gale drew in a harsh breath as all the Careers save Clove and the boy from Four bolted into the trees.
The split in the screen showed Katniss running. The red-headed girl from District 5 crossed paths with her and, after a wide-eyed moment, darted away. Katniss shook her head, checked her bearings, and kept running. The cameras would track her, zooming in and panning out as she ran. Gale could see she now had a quiver of silvery arrows strapped to her back, as well as the pack. And she was carrying a matching bow. The same bow and arrow set that had been in the Cornucopia the day before.
Reduced to voice-overs, Templesmith and Flickerman each took one view and commented upon it. Gale cringed to hear their distant, oh-so-excited remarks.
"They're chasing Rue from District 11," Claudius said in hushed tones. "Now, she's proven to be fast as a rabbit, but I don't know if she'll outrun Cato or Glimmer."
"Will she be able to hold out for Katniss, is what I wonder," Caesar murmured. "Katniss is almost there, though. See, the Gamemakers have the overhead on her and, of course, Seneca Crane has assured us all of a great view. Will she be in time to protect little Rue?"
"I don't know, Caesar, it's going to be close!"
Gale heard another rough breath in the lounge and was not surprised to find it was his own.
Glimmer shifted the axe she still carried and leapt over a log. She slipped and cut herself shallowly with the axe. She was swearing as she fell, but looked up at the same time. Her stream of anger was cut off in a heartbeat. Gale swallowed as the cameras shifted.
Rue was perched high in the tree, eyes wide in the deepening darkness. And then, as Gale watched with a sick feeling in his gut, a well-aimed knife sliced through the air to her throat.
Katniss was going to hate herself, and part of Gale's mind at that moment set itself to preparing how to handle that even as he exhaled in sorrow over Rue's death.
Cato laughed and the cameras caught him, Glimmer, the girl from Four, and Peeta staring at the bleeding form of the tiniest Tribute.
Peeta appeared to be in shock, but no one else seemed to notice, Gale thought. "Hey, Clove," Cato shouted. "I can kill with knives, too!"
"Crap! What did I miss?"
"Where's Katniss?" Peeta asked, cutting off the other Tribute's boasting. "She should be here, right?" He started walking around, staring up into the trees. "She would have said something by now." Still covering his wounded eye with one hand, he wasn't doing a great job of searching. Gale didn't blame him.
"Shit, you're right." Cato crossed to Rue and stared at her until even her fingers quit twitching. Then, he calmly pulled his knife from her body, wiped it off on his thigh, and sheathed it. "What would she do, Strongman?"
Peeta held up his free hand. "She'd probably, uh, well, you know she can use a bow, so I bet she's waiting to ambush us."
Glimmer pushed herself to her feet. "Before we go chasing her, I've gotta get—"
Silver flew into view of the camera. An arrow pierced Glimmer right in the eye.
Cinna gasped as the already wounded Career fell, screaming. "Did you see that?" the Stylist demanded of the room. "Did you?"
Haymitch snorted. "Peeta said she could take a squirrel in the eye, so I bet this was easier. She's screaming enough that it ain't fatal. Yet."
Gale was impressed, yes, but his heart hurt for Katniss. His girl's voice sounded fierce and terrible in the trees. "One down. Who's next?"
The girl from Four hesitated and looked at her companions before nodding and rushing in the direction of Katniss's voice, slipping on her night vision goggles as she ran. Gale could see Cato in the wide shot that followed as the scene claimed the entire screen. The other known Volunteer that year hefted his sword and started stalking Katniss as well.
Two more arrows found their marks, though, leaving Glimmer, who had been writhing in pain, dead on the leafy floor of the Arena.
"Cato? What's happened?" Clove's voice sounded thin and weak across the water.
"He's dead, Clove."
"That bitch!"
The next minute was almost unfair. Katniss's unerring aim took out the remaining Careers on that side of the river, even as Peeta knelt at Rue's side, checking vainly for signs of life. Clove, seeing and hearing the sounds of death, cut her losses—and the throat of District 4's remaining Tribute—and hobbled as fast as she could go away from the river.
Caesar Flickerman was the first to catch his breath. "When we saw District Twelve's Tributes on fire, Claudius, I knew they were going to be special. But wow."
Claudius made an affirmative sound on the voice over as Katniss paced slowly into view, still holding the bow but focused only on little Rue.
"Katniss," Peeta murmured, collapsing to lean against the tree. "I'm so sorry."
She didn't spare him much of a look, but asked, "What happened? Did they do that to you?"
"What, my eye? The girl did it. That was Rue, wasn't it?"
"Rue," Katniss confirmed, kneeling down at the girl's side. "She stayed here as a distraction. I left her with a bow and arrow and thought she'd be safe while I went to get water."
"Water was right here, Katniss," Peeta protested.
"Not enough to carry us away from it. Where were you?"
"Trying to keep them away from you, obviously."
Katniss looked at Peeta, then, with a frown. "Let me wash that out and bind it and then I have to…oh, Rue." She made a sound that sounded like half a sob, half a hiccough, and Gale gripped the back of the sofa as the only way he could think of to control his inner turmoil.
Within fifteen minutes, Katniss had cleaned and bound Peeta's wound—though Gale had no idea how long or how effective her treatment would be—and managed to lay out little Rue in what could only be described as a restful pose on the rock near the water. She was surrounded by branches and greenery, and held two bloodied, wooden arrows in her hands. "I'm so sorry," Katniss had murmured over and over. Even when the mics didn't catch it, Gale could see her lips move.
At length, Katniss stood and pressed three fingers to her lips, in the old sign from their District. Then, in a twist designed to be caught by any camera, she raised her hand in salute.
The last view Gale had of her was as she and Peeta gathered all that they could carry and disappear into the dark forest.
"Well," Caesar said, sounding at a loss.
"Indeed," Claudius added. "That was…efficient."
"And I don't think I've ever seen anyone do that with…even in an Alliance, in the Games," Caesar remarked, eyeing his own video monitor. Then, he summoned a smile. "This has really been an exciting start to the 74th Hunger Games!"
Haymitch clicked the view screen off. "He wasn't wrong," the older man said tiredly, scrubbing at his face. "At least they're together now."
"Well, that's good," Portia murmured, bending to pluck her drink up from the low table.
Effie huffed and started pacing. "Someone needs to get that boy some medicine!"
"I know," Gale said, blowing out a breath. "Haymitch?"
"Let's go."
E/N: Peeks out from between the trees . . . Still here? If you are and want a look into the next chapter, you can volunteer by being as bold as Katniss and I'll make that happen. But only if you're signed in and accepting PMs. Until next time . . .