Endure Chapter 19: Pride & Paranoia, a hunger games fanfic

~Chapter Nineteen: Pride & Paranoia~

"There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs." ―George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

Needless to say, I was not in a pleasant mood the rest of the afternoon.

I tried not to openly sulk, because that wouldn't be a good look for the cameras, but I was sure my distaste for tonight's upcoming activities was evident in my body language.

After a while—clothes still fully on, but pant legs rolled up—I was miserably hot, so I just sat in the shallows, not caring about my pants and underwear getting wet. The last thing I would ever do was strip down to my undergarments in front of this group. Part of it was me being a bit self-conscious (especially compared to their fit, muscular forms), but it was mainly due to Caspian's presence. No way was I giving him ammunition.

At least he was mostly leaving me alone, as the late afternoon wore on.

Maybe I was just a prude. Maybe I was just being petty and stubborn at this point. But I wasn't giving up my pride just yet.

Ben stuck by me, too, which made things even easier. We alternated between sitting in silence or making small talk, but what I really needed to say to Ben, I couldn't. I didn't know how to tell him that tonight, we'd see Autumn's face projected in the night sky.

Something akin to grief welled in my chest and I realized something: I did not want to be around the Careers during the death recap. I was absolutely positive they would make some sort of immature, petty comments when her face was depicted for all of us to see. I know I was supposed to be strong for the cameras…but even the mere thought of the Careers doing all of that sent a surge of anger crashing through me.

Maybe I could pull Ben aside before it came to that, and the two of us could distance ourselves before the recap began.

On one hand, I didn't really want to draw attention to us or do anything that could rouse suspicion. Especially when Cato knew I wouldn't be able to kill Ben if it came down to it. Surely, my partner would make an ordeal out of it, and I just didn't want to face that right now.

On the other, there wasn't anything wrong with me wanting to pull Ben aside to talk about a few things. Bastion and Cato were sticking together and had gone off alone to check the traps this morning. Why couldn't Ben and I just have a few minutes to talk without everyone eavesdropping?

I didn't think Cato would see it that way, though. I was positive the boy from 2's suspicious nature—and his strong dislike for me—would cause issues if I wanted some privacy, out of sight of the others.

But, as evening arrived and the time for the recap grew closer, I couldn't bring myself to care.

We left the pond—my pants were wet and heavy, and I wrung them out while pretending not to notice Caspian's knowing smirk—and settled onto a waterproof tarp that Ben laid out against the sand. We dozed off for a while (as did most the Careers), since it was getting cooler out, but Ben woke me by placing something in my lap. Dinner: a package containing a mixture of nuts and dried fruit.

I glanced up at the sky in trepidation, blinking sleepily. It would be dark very soon. The recap wasn't far away. And after that, I'd have to join the hunt with the others. Great.

We were enjoying our dinner—in relative peace, because Caspian was sleeping across the cove while Lambent and Chiffon were throwing knives at a tree far enough away to barely be in earshot—when, once again, Cato's voice broke through the still air. I glanced over at him, startled. He had been sleeping for a couple of hours, but perhaps Ben moving about the camp had woken him. I hadn't failed to notice that the boy from 2 always slept with a weapon in his grip. Most of the Careers did, actually.

"Make sure you're stocked up on supplies. We'll only be gone a few hours, but pack a full day's worth." He jerked his head towards the pile of weapons, eyes narrowing. "And get a weapon."

My stomach sank.

"I have one," I responded, gesturing to the weapon in question, which was sitting on the ground next to me, near my backpack.

Cato snorted. "You can barely call that tiny knife a weapon," he responded condescendingly. "Even for you."

"Maybe I don't feel the need to compensate for something," I bit back before I could help myself.

Much like he had on the roof, Bastion broke into startled laughter. I felt vindicated, but Cato's eyes flashed as he leveled a glare on me.

"Maybe you should. There are ten-year-olds in District 2 bigger than you," he retorted coolly. I could hear the venom underneath.

That annoyed me. "I'm surprised your district can afford to even feed them, with how much you probably eat," I bit back, Bastion still snickering in the background.

Cato's jaw clenched. "Obviously you're surprised. You look like you've never eaten a decent meal."

Now I was even more incensed, at the implied slight to my district.

I shouldn't engage in this pointless argument, I knew that, even as irritation seared through my veins. I could see from the corner of my eye that Caspian had awoken, and was watching with vivid interest. Though at least Lambent and Chiffon were still occupying themselves a safe distance away, too busy with their knife-throwing competition to be eavesdropping on us. They were getting louder and more competitive with every throw, their shouts echoing in the background.

"I'm sure we have far different definitions of 'decent meal,'" I snapped.

In District 2, their version of a "decent meal" was probably something that could feed me for days. I was sure even District 2's meals were nothing compared to the Capitol, but still.

Cato glanced at me pointedly. "Of course you'd say that, when you look like a gust of wind would blow you over."

I bristled, ready for a sharp retort, but Ben placed a hand on my arm, cutting me off by saying, "I'm sure being small has its advantages, but this isn't the time for a debate." His tone was level, because he was trying to de-escalate the argument, but I could tell he was also annoyed by the insult to District 7.

Cato just scoffed, tossing a derisive look towards Ben. "Whatever. She still needs a better weapon than that knife. We won't be leaving until she picks one." And with that, he stalked away towards Lambent and Chiffon.

Bastion still looked far too amused, shaking his head before returning to poking at the campfire, which he had re-lit while we were eating. The other boy from 2 did not really take anything seriously, or so I had learned throughout the day. He pretty much laughed at everything, and was quick to make snarky comments, but he seemed to take great pleasure in making jokes at Cato's expense. The fact that Cato tolerated it without trying to snap his neck had further cemented my opinion that the two were either friends, or had known each other a very long time.

Probably the latter, since I couldn't see Cato having friends.

I leaned back against the tree, trying to fight away the surge of annoyance that had washed over me. Ben squeezed my arm gently, no doubt sensing my internal turmoil.

It was already pretty easy for Cato to get under my skin outside of the Arena. But in here, with how exhausted I was and my nerves being rubbed raw, it was even easier. Talking to him was exhausting.

I knew I'd have to grab something else from the weapons supply or Cato would just make things even more difficult, but not yet. The recap would probably be starting in just a few minutes. And I didn't want to be close to the Careers, especially right now, when I was all riled up again.

I turned to Ben, learning towards him and cupping my hand around his ear to whisper. I knew anyone watching us might find it suspicious, but I could not care less right now.

"Can we go on a walk? I want to talk to you about something…and I don't want to be near them for the recap."

A concerned look flickered in Ben's green eyes. He hesitated, likely knowing the other Careers wouldn't love the only two non-Careers traipsing about the forest after dark, but we were going to stay very close. Just far enough away that I didn't have to hear the others during the recap. And maybe talking about Autumn's death would help expel some of the tightness that had been lurking in my chest.

I hadn't even known her well. But she had been so gentle, and selfless…and she was from home. Guilt at the fact that she had died in front of me, when I could do nothing to help, had burrowed its way deep in my chest. I knew I couldn't afford to linger on it. Not in here. I was really hoping talking to Ben about it would help me move past it…at least for now.

If I survived this, I could fully process and grieve about it later.

Ben had nodded after a brief pause. "We'll be right back," Ben muttered in Bastion's direction. The dark-haired boy glanced up at us, eyebrow raised. I still clutched my knife, but left my backpack behind, thinking it would look suspicious if I brought it. The two of us stood up, prepared to make our way into the trees next to the cove.

"Where are you going?" Caspian asked lazily, eyes just slightly narrowed.

"Just on a walk," I cut in. "Not far, obviously."

A smirk formed on the boy from 4's lips. "If you're wanting some alone time, a tent is probably your best bet. Cameras can't get in there."

Bastion, unsurprisingly, snickered at the implication.

"Seriously? That's what you're thinking about right now?" I asked incredulously, while Ben shifted uncomfortably next to me. Gross.

Caspian shrugged. "Just throwing it out there as an option." I then remembered what he'd implied before the interview: that he was, at one point, considering offering me a way to 'live longer' in the Games, if I were willing to…make a trade.

Of course, he was trying to make me extremely uncomfortable again.

"Well, that's not what we're doing," I snapped at him, still feeling disgusted.

The smirk widened, his eyes full of mirth. "Either way, make it quick. I'm sure 2 will want to leave soon, and I doubt he'll want you two…walking around alone."

The emphasis on certain words was too suggestive, and I tossed the smirking blonde my darkest scowl—ignoring Bastion's ever-present amusement—before moving away from the middle of the cove, Ben trailing after me. Still uncomfortable by the implication, probably. Even though our friendship had always been platonic.

We entered the tree line, Ben turning on a flashlight I hadn't realized he carried. The fire back at camp helped illuminate the area, as well, and we weren't going far, but it was still nice to have another light source.

We stopped a very short distance from the cove. Just far enough that I could talk above a whisper without being overheard. I could still see the shapes of Caspian and Bastion near the campfire, and they could see Ben's flashlight. We weren't dumb enough to put ourselves at risk. Even though I highly doubted other tributes would risk approaching our camp.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, staring down at me when we stopped. Darkness had fully covered the Arena, and I knew the recap would be starting any second.

"I wanted to tell you something before the recap," I said, matching his volume level. My voice sounded drained.

Concern crossed his expression. "What happened?"

I bit my lip, hard, because there it was again: the vivid memory of last night's events, passing through my mind's eye. The visceral images of the scorpion and Autumn's death resurging to haunt me yet again. I remembered the panic and terror, the pain and desperation from running, the disbelief as she pushed me away, the grief and horror as the scorpion stung her and her body began to spasm in its clutches—

"June?" Ben had placed a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. I didn't even want to know what type of expression was on my face.

I wasn't really sure how to approach the topic delicately. Was there any easy way of talking about this? Not really. So, instead, I just cut to the chase.

"Autumn's dead. I saw her die last night."

My voice was thick with suppressed emotion.

I couldn't see Ben's face too clearly out here in the darkness, but it looked like shock had contorted his expression. His hand was still on my shoulder, and his grip tightened imperceptibly. There were a couple seconds of silence before his mouth opened, but he hesitated to speak—as if he wanted to ask me for more details about what had happened, but wasn't sure if he should. Before he could make up his mind, I continued,

"Capitol mutt. Giant scorpion." I shuddered with revulsion and horror, unable to help myself. My eyes were fixated on the ground, now, as I was unable to even look at Ben while talking about it. "We ran as far as we could, but…it was faster than us." Ben knew Autumn was sick, so there was no point in me elaborating why we couldn't outrun it. "She died trying to buy me time to escape".

The guilt was evident in my tone by the end, overriding even the terror and sadness at the memory.

A few more heartbeats of silence, before Ben spoke very softly. "I'm so sorry you went through that. But…you know it wasn't your fault, right?"

I looked up again. "I could have saved her," I responded quietly.

Ben shook his head. "How? With that knife? Running seems like the smarter option."

I swallowed hard. "I have this…this flashlight. It has a weird purplish beam that scared off the scorpion. I just…didn't realize that's what the flashlight was for. Until it was too late." I looked down again, trying to push back the guilt trying to choke me.

Ben sighed and pulled me towards him, then, for another hug. For the second time today, I relished the human contact. I bit my lip hard, fighting back the tidal wave of emotions. A few seconds passed, with him just holding me, reminiscent of earlier.

"You can't blame yourself. You can't keep thinking about everything you would have done differently."

I was silent, then, because I knew he was right. But that didn't make the pain in my chest go away.

"June…" he said, even more quietly then, releasing me from the hug and gripping my shoulder again. His expression was deathly serious. "You know what these Games are like. Hell, you're the one that really helped me get my head screwed on straight. You know the odds were always…" He trailed off, hesitating for a moment, before continuing, "you know it was always going to be difficult for her."

His meaning was clear: Autumn was pretty much guaranteed to die anyway. I knew that. I'd had the same thought myself.

But it was different being in that situation, having to witness it in person, especially when she hastened her own death to try to help me. My life wasn't worth more than hers, yet I'd gotten to live, and now she was gone.

"Dwelling on it won't help things," he added, softly.

I knew he had a point. If anything, my mind being so distracted by something that I couldn't change would only put me in more danger. I couldn't lose focus in the Arena. Autumn's death wouldn't be meaningless if I could somehow survive this, could somehow honor her legacy.

My brain fixated on that. I had to get back to District 7, for her. That was Autumn's last wish. I clung to the possibility that if I made it home, I could try to find a way to make it up to her for the selfless way she'd sacrificed herself to try to save me.

The odds weren't good. But it was all I had to hold onto right now. And if things were looking grim, and it seemed as if Ben might be the one to make it home instead of me…hopefully he could…

No. I couldn't think like that.

"You're right," I finally said, after a very long pause, because the boy in question was looking at me expectantly, jostling my shoulder lightly. "It's just…I can't stop thinking about it. And I didn't want to be around all of them during the recap."

Ben nodded. He understood, just as I expected him to. "Then we'll stay over here until it's over," he said.

And, as the sky lit up and the Capitol anthem began to ring around every corner of the Arena, that's exactly what we did.

...

As expected, Cato was severely displeased when the two of us returned to the cove just a few minutes later. He had probably been about to come drag us back himself.

"About time," he snapped icily, once we emerged from the trees.

But I ignored him, because seeing the recap had been just as horrible as I'd thought. Fortunately, Ben had let me take the time to get it together, to collect myself, before we headed back. I couldn't afford to snivel and look pathetic in front of the others.

I could feel the eyes on us. They'd all just seen the recap, knew the only person that died was someone from District 7, but I really hoped they'd have the sense not to make any comments about-

"Is that why you two went on that walk?" Caspian drawled. "If you needed some time to grieve, you didn't have to lie about it."

Of course, he would feel the need to say something about Autumn's death.

Hot anger surged under my skin, and I wanted nothing more to snap at the despicable boy and to give him a piece of my mind. But I knew I couldn't.

"Not really your business," I said coldly, instead, but the dislike was evident in my tone and I was sure he could hear the simmering anger underneath.

"Did you know her well?" Bastion asked curiously. I glanced at him despite myself; there was no maliciousness in his expression. I supposed, for a Career, this was all standard fare. They volunteered to come here knowing that, to meet their goal, their fellow district tribute would have to die. They might even have to kill them. Did a Career ever grieve when the other tribute from their district died? I supposed they weren't allowed, no matter what they actually felt. If they felt anything.

Either way, I wasn't getting into this subject.

So, I merely shrugged. "Not really," I responded. It wasn't any of their business.

"She was a few years older than us," Ben added, trying to draw the attention away from me, probably. I was studiously staring into the campfire, trying to ignore the gazes of the Careers.

"Not like she had a shot to win, anyway," Lambent said, matter-of-factly. It was callous, and I wondered if he was being deliberately cruel, or if he were truly that clueless and insensitive.

Still, I grit my teeth, staring into the fire as I felt Ben stiffen next to me. It was a needless remark, no matter how you looked at it, even if he was technically correct.

"I wonder how she died?" Caspian asked. I could still feel his stare boring into me. He was trying to get a rise out of me.

And, as I felt something boiling underneath, I knew it was working.

"Doesn't matter," Cato cut in impatiently. "7, grab a weapon. We would have left already, if you two weren't wasting time." For the first time ever, I was grateful for his general lack of caring about anyone else, since it had led to a fortuitous subject change.

Sighing heavily—still avoiding eye contact with everyone else—I made my way over to the piles.

Ben moved to join me, glancing in Cato's direction. "I'm coming too," he said, no hesitation in his voice. But Cato didn't look surprised.

"Obviously," Caspian said then. "We kept watch last night, so it's our turn to join the hunt." He looked far too excited.

"So who is staying behind, then?" Chiffon wanted to know.

"You," Cato replied shortly. "You complained most of last night, anyway."

Chiffon made a petulant sound. "That's because we were chasing nothing-"

"It wasn't nothing!" Bastion interjected, though he didn't look particularly offended.

"One of you can stay with her," Cato said, glancing towards Bastion and Lambent.

They debated briefly, before it was decided that Bastion would accompany us and Chiffon and Lambent from 1 would stay behind. At first, I was surprised Lambent didn't push harder to join the hunt. He relented unusually quickly. But then I realized the group dynamics didn't favor him. If Lambent joined us, there would be nobody from his district—or his partner (who still had yet to join up with us)—around. Perhaps, despite all his arrogance and confidence in his own murderous capabilities, part of Lambent didn't want to risk it.

Ben and I quickly filled our packs with the basics—a couple meals' worth of food (at Cato's insistence, we were expected to be overprepared), a container of water each, matches, and some first aid supplies (including the small tub of medicine for cuts that I'd already used). I grabbed a normal flashlight, too, for my free hand. I kept the rope, wire, other flashlight, and tarp that was already in my pack beforehand, from the clearing with the massive tree. I was going nowhere without this flashlight now, even though I doubted the Gamemakers would be so "uncreative" as to send another scorpion mutt after me.

My pack was full to the brim, and I briefly had some trouble zipping it up. Once that was done, I glanced up to see that Ben was holding an axe. Unsurprising, that he was good with the weapon, though I knew he also had familiarity with knives. The axe Ben held was double-bladed and large, much larger than any axes I'd used previously, with a long, hefty handle. More ideal for close-range combat. An axe like that wouldn't be very accurate when thrown. Not with the length of the handle.

"Pick a fucking weapon, 7," Cato interjected, towering over me where I was kneeled next to the weapons pile.

But there was a reason I was hesitating.

I knew well that the only weapon I could actually use—or, to be more accurate, the only weapon I had a chance of being lethal with—was a smaller axe. But the Careers didn't know that. Hell, even Ben hadn't seen me use an axe, though back on the train he had overheard me saying I could throw them.

It wasn't that my skills could compare to the Careers'. If one of them wanted to fight me, I didn't have a chance against them in one-on-one combat. I wasn't trained like them. My only shot would be catching someone by surprise.

But a small part of me wanted to pick something else, just for a misdirect, to make them think I preferred a different weapon.

Then again, if a fight actually occurred, I would be worse than useless with a different weapon…

Lambent had made a snide comment about my abilities, which I steadfastly ignored, but—to my surprise—Chiffon came to my rescue, albeit unknowingly.

"If you don't know how to use anything, why don't you just grab an axe? Isn't that, like, the District 7 thing?" Her tone was rude, but I didn't care.

Perfect, I thought. I could grab an axe, but make it look like it was more Chiffon's idea, not that I was picking it because it was my comfort choice. It was the closest thing to compromise, and I really didn't want anything else in my hand, now that an axe was available.

"Fine," I said in Chiffon's direction, trying my best to sound as sullen as possible, to back up my little facade. My eyes had already selected an axe that was the closest size to those I had thrown previously. I made a show of skimming the different options, however, pretending to pick that one at random from the pile.

Hopefully the Careers were convinced by my display of incompetence and didn't think I'd actually be able to throw it.

Then again, who knew what I would do if it came down to it? If I were forced to throw it when my life depended on it?

I couldn't think about it now.

I ignored Cato's stare as I put my knife into my backpack, throwing it on before clutching my new axe in my left hand—and new flashlight in my right—and standing up.

I was dreading this hunt, but there was something oddly comforting and relaxing about holding an axe again. I felt just the tiniest bit safer.

"Let's go," Cato said, eyes roving the camp.

"Be careful out there!" Chiffon said, as we began to cross the cove. We would be heading south. Towards the direction of the Cornucopia, apparently.

I heard Lambent snort behind us. "Scared, Chiffy? Who could they possibly be worried about running into? The strongest tributes are part of this alliance."

"What if Onyx and that stuck up girl from 2 teamed up with others?" I heard her say as we reached the tree line. The image of the cool, aloof girl from 2 and the shifty, dark-eyed boy from 1 briefly crossed my memory.

Lambent scoffed. "It's fucking Onyx. Dude's weird. No way he plays well with an alliance."

They continued to squabble behind us as we entered the forest, but their voices quickly faded in the distance, and the darkness closed in. They'd put the campfire out, not wanting to draw too much attention when only a couple of people were back at camp.

Despite his bluster, maybe Lambent was worried, after all.

I tried to force down my own trepidation as we began our trek. Despite my efforts, I couldn't help the small sense of foreboding that was unraveling within me. I couldn't help but worry about what lie ahead. I found myself fervently hoping that we wouldn't find anyone.

That I wouldn't have to watch someone die two nights in a row.

…

For the most part, we walked in silence for the first hour or so of our journey. I remembered overhearing the Careers from the night before, and how annoyed Cato had gotten with the others' bickering. I doubted he'd tolerate any of that now. But every now and again, Caspian just had to make some sort of snide little remark. Usually, they were directed at me. If they weren't directed at me, they were at least phrased in a way that he was obviously hoping to get under my skin. Whether he was talking about the Arena or something else.

While he'd go several minutes at a time without speaking, it was often enough that my irritation was continuously growing. I kept my mouth shut, because getting into a giant argument right now couldn't be a good idea, but his presence alone was excruciating.

Ben stuck close next to me, the two of us walking several feet behind the other Careers, but we didn't speak much. Occasionally he would let out a sigh of exasperation or try to cut off something Caspian said, but the boy from 4 was unperturbed.

I couldn't believe it, and I'd never admit it out loud, but part of me was actually thinking that I could have gotten a partner worse than Cato. Hell, they both wanted to kill me, but at least the boy from 2 was mostly silent during the trip. Now silence, I could tolerate.

There was more moonlight tonight, I noticed. Had the Gamemakers done that deliberately for the hunt? My paranoia never ceased, it would seem. Regardless, the forest still wouldn't have been easy to navigate without flashlights, but it was certainly an improvement from last night. Caspian wore the sole set of night vision glasses possessed by the group—apparently, he'd found them at the Cornucopia, but they were the only pair anyone had seen. I had seen similar glasses in previous Games, but having never worn any in person, I wasn't quite sure how they worked. Either way, he didn't even need to use his flashlight to see.

Cato was also insistent that we minimize the chance of others seeing us from a distance. As such, since the forest was a little brighter tonight, Ben and I kept our flashlights off most of the time, letting the two boys from 2 lead the way with theirs.

As we neared the Cornucopia, Bastion made sure to guide us carefully so that we wouldn't be triggering any of the traps he set up. "Don't step over there," he said, right as we approached the tree line, pointing towards a sturdy tree just a short distance away. I couldn't even begin to recognize the complex trap he had set up, but it looked like it incorporated wire, rope, and the tree itself to snare an unsuspecting tribute by the foot. I tried to affix the mental image in my head so that if I came back this way, I couldn't step right into it.

And then, we exited the tree line and I finally saw it. The place where half of the tributes had started the Games.

It was out in the open, sitting on an area of flat sand. Technically, it was positioned in a place where it should have been right at the edge of the forest and at least partially enclosed by trees. However, by deliberate Gamemaker design, the tree line of the forest actually cut inward in a half-circle, away from the Cornucopia. As if the trees themselves were giving it a wide-berth; the Gamemakers wanted the bloodbath to occur out in the open air. Because of that, there was maybe a hundred feet of distance between the trees and the Cornucopia itself on the north, south, and west sides.

The other part of the Cornucopia faced towards the desert, so it was entirely open anyway.

I scanned the area as we moved towards it.

The desert was beautiful, in its own way. For a moment, I felt transfixed, staring across the expanse of sand. It was relatively flat here, but there were gently rolling dunes that got slightly steeper in the distance. I supposed tributes could be sheltering out of view on the opposite side of the dunes, but I doubted it. At the edge of the horizon, I could just see where the dunes began to turn into hills, and from my previous survey I knew they grew steeper the further east you went, until they looked difficult to traverse. At least some tributes had to be hiding there. Unless there weren't any water sources.

My eyes slid back to the Cornucopia as we approached. At first, I thought the extremely large, horn-shaped object was completely built out of sand. However, once we got closer, I saw metal underneath its outer coating, and realized the Gamemakers probably just wanted it to look more aesthetic, in the theme of this Arena. That could explain why I hadn't seen it from my survey of the Arena from the tree. From that distance, it probably just looked like a large sand dune.

Even to my untrained eye, it was easy to see how things would have developed here.

Tributes who didn't want to fight in the bloodbath, or who were trying to escape, would either have to run into the forest or the open desert. If the Cornucopia area were truly miserably hot during the day, it wasn't much of a choice. I was sure nearly all of them fled into the trees. Even after the bloodbath ended, crossing the desert probably wasn't an appealing option. It explained why the Careers had chosen to stay in this part of the Arena.

Bastion slapped the side of the Cornucopia as we reached it, and I peered inside. As expected, almost everything had been cleared out, except for a small pile of (less useful) supplies right at the mouth. The "bait" that they had set up to try to lure others here. Hoping tributes within the trees would make their way over, inadvertently catching themselves on one of the many traps set up.

"This thing gets scorching hot during the day," the dark haired boy from 2 said. "You could probably cook food in here." He chuckled at his own joke.

The boys from 2 began picking through the pile to make sure nobody had managed to sneak by the traps and take anything.

While they did that, I found myself wandering around the side of the Cornucopia to the far end, surveying the desert in the distance. How could there be so much sand in one place? I knew it was carefully cultivated for the Arena, and not a natural desert, but I still couldn't help but stare. I had never seen anything like it. It was just so…so…open. Empty.

It was unnerving, in a lot of ways. I would feel incredibly exposed if I tried to cross the giant swath of sand.

My eyes were aimlessly scanning the wide expanse of dunes as I waited for the others to finish up in the Cornucopia when something caught my eye, just in the corner of my vision. Something out of place.

A flicker of motion?

My eyes snapped towards the left and I stiffened, surveying the rolling sand in the distance. My heart immediately picked up its pace, hammering in my chest. I stared intently, eyes combing the area that I thought the movement had come from…

But I saw nothing. Nothing at all.

Just sand, and open air, and emptiness, like before.

My eyes narrowed, and I kept scanning the dunes. Seconds trickled by. I'd thought I'd seen movement in my peripherals, right where the dunes began to grow larger and steeper. But there was nothing now. Nothing to see, no matter how much I stared.

Had I imagined it?

I was getting extremely paranoid, and being out in the open was certainly making me uneasy, but I didn't think I was to the point of just seeing things that weren't there…yet.

But nothing was out of the ordinary in the desert, at least that I could see. I didn't think it was a tribute. How would they have gotten out of sight so quickly? Maybe it was just the wind, whistling across the tops of the dunes and kicking up gusts of sand in the process. Sand wasn't exactly stationary; it was always subject to the forces of nature, causing it to shift and move like a living thing, at least from the other Games I'd watched that involved similar scenery.

Not this desert, though. This was more…flat. Unmoving. Because there was very little wind in the Arena.

So, what had been moving? Either I was imagining it, or…

I didn't want to finish that thought, as it would only add to the growing uneasiness I'd felt all day.

"7! We're going." Cato's demanding tone broke into my thoughts. I tore my eyes away and noticed with a jolt that he had approached me, Ben trailing behind him.

"Did you see something?" Ben asked, his eyes turning to stare into the desert behind me. "You look…concerned."

Cato's eyes were resting on me, intent and imposing. "We're wasting time." His tone was curt.

I felt a prickle of exasperation at his hastiness, especially when I had been waiting on them to keep moving, but refrained from snapping a retort, instead focusing on how to respond. I didn't want to come across as overly paranoid…but, at the same time, it would be a total lie not to say something.

"I…thought I saw movement. But there's nothing now. I may have just imagined it," I said reluctantly, turning over my shoulder once more to do another quick scan of the dunes in the distance.

Still nothing. Just a lifeless stretch of sand.

I expected a rude comment, but Cato appeared to be surveying the horizon to come to his own conclusion. There was silence for a few seconds, before he said, "I don't see anything."

When I turned back, his expression was indecipherable, not betraying whether he thought I was going insane or not. Instead, he ended the conversation with a clipped, "Let's go." Without another word, he turned and strode towards Caspian and Bastion, who were waiting impatiently on the far side of the Cornucopia.

"Come on," Ben said, though I noticed he threw a concerned look back over his shoulder as we turned to depart. He probably realized how on edge I was.

I tried to shake it off as we made our way towards the tree line. It wasn't like we were heading into the desert anyway. Even if there was something there, I wouldn't be dealing with it. I brushed aside the lingering discomfort.

I had much bigger problems to focus on right now.

…

We continued south, entering the trees again on the far side of the Cornucopia. This was far further south than I had ever been in the Arena. I wondered if it got even hotter during the day in this part of the forest than the area where I started. I couldn't imagine that.

After another half hour or so, we reached a gently-flowing river. Who knew if the river I'd found previously forked and made it all the way down here, or if it were an entirely separate one. We stopped at it briefly to drink, so that we could replenish ourselves without having to drain any of the water in the containers we carried with us.

I had just finished splashing some water on my face—the pace set by the Careers was brisk, and I was sweating slightly despite the temperate atmosphere—when a noise rang out through the still night, cutting through the silence like butter.

A loud male yell in the distance, full of anger—or perhaps pain—followed by a sharp yelp of pain almost immediately afterward, this one sounding female.

I jolted to my feet as the Careers shifted into motion immediately, gripping their weapons. Bastion let out a low noise of excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. I could practically sense Caspian smiling widely. I expected him to let out a whoop of excitement, because I was sure he was hoping for this outcome, but he didn't. It was like he had shifted into some sort of hyper-focused mode.

This was what they had trained for, and instinct had taken over.

"Came from that direction," Cato said, pointing with his sword, which glinted in the wane light. He kept his voice low, and immediately turned his flashlight off. Bastion followed suit. I was confused, but only for a second, before realizing they didn't want to draw attention. A tribute fleeing this way would definitely adjust their course if they spotted us.

"I can take point," Caspian responded, voice also low, gesturing vaguely towards the night vision glasses he wore. "I'll see if I can spot them."

"We'll flank you," Cato responded, not even arguing with him, probably realizing the merit to the strategy. Especially when we knew there were at least two tributes nearby. He rested his gaze on the two of us, the non-Careers.

"We're going. Don't fall behind."

There was no room for debate. The three of them broke into a fast jog, heading straight towards the direction of the sound, with zero hesitation at all. Caspian was in front, with Cato and Bastion on either side of him, Ben and I trailing close behind. Part of the group. As if we were truly making a coordinated effort to hunt the source of the sound down.

Without flashlights, it wasn't easy to move through the forest, though it was better than yesterday with the additional moonlight. Caspian could see perfectly well, however, weaving effortlessly through the trees with the rest of us close enough behind to follow his path. The sources of the noise couldn't be far. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought that I was part of this. But what choice did I have?

My stomach felt like it was in a vice as I pushed myself to keep up with them, eyes fixated on the forest rushing by, unable to make out much in the distance. My sore body protested at the movements.

I don't want any part of this. Surely Ben didn't either?

I couldn't believe I was with the Careers, chasing down some innocent tributes, and I'd probably have to watch them kill—

"They're headed this way!" Caspian cut in to my train of thought. Clearly, his night-vision glasses were helping out quite a lot, allowing him to see far beyond what we could. Excitement rippled across the Careers, and they increased their pace, Ben and I forced to follow suit.

No, don't come this way. Turn around, run somewhere else, anywhere else, I mentally pleaded with the unknown tribute.

"Wait!" The boy from 4 said lowly, just seconds later. "I can see her now. It's Azure." He sounded completely incredulous. It only took my brain a couple of seconds to remember that was the strawberry blonde from 4, Lambent's partner. She was supposed to be part of our alliance.

"Is she alone?" Cato asked, as Caspian adjusted his course to intercept his fellow District 4 tribute, the rest of us mirroring him. Now I could hear her—running through the forest heedlessly. Making no attempt to be quiet. Wasn't that a bit reckless?

Unless she was running from something.

"Looks like it," Caspian responded. "Azure!" he called out then, just loud enough for Azure to probably hear him and recognize his voice, our group still following the boy from 4 as he led us towards her using his night vision.

She must have recognized that it was us and adjusted her course, because the footsteps grew in volume until the girl herself burst between a couple of trees and emerged in view. Cato turned his flashlight back on, honing it on her, and she raised a hand to her face, blinking against the bright light as she stumbled to a stop.

Azure was panting, heavily, covered in a sheen of sweat. She had a pack slung over one shoulder. And, on the left side of her stomach, was a bleeding gash. Crimson soaked her shirt and her free hand, which was pressed against the wound. I heard Caspian whistle under his breath.

"What an entrance that was," he said dryly, as Bastion stepped forward to examine the wound.

Azure's eyes scanned us in a second, barely seeing us, and fixated on Caspian. My blood froze as she spoke her next words.

"They'll…be chasing me," she breathed heavily. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face. "I bought some time…but…." She trailed off.

"How many?" Cato asked shortly, scanning her intently before turning his flashlight back off.

Azure's teeth were gritted in pain. "Three." She took a deep, sucking breath.

"Who is it?" Caspian asked.

"Fucking Marlin, that traitor," she responded angrily. "His partner…" The image of the dark-haired boy from 4 and the massive boy from 10 who had scored high in his private session swam into my mind. "And the woman from 10."

Not good. Marlin was a Career, and his partner was seemingly a legitimate threat. These tributes couldn't be taken lightly.

"She needs first aid," Bastion interjected.

"I don't have first aid supplies on me," Azure grit out.

"7 can do it. Stay here and treat her while we hunt them down," Cato responded, jerking his head towards me, and ignoring the glare I tossed him. I strongly disliked the way he was ordering me around. I also didn't miss the fact that he still called me "7" even with Ben around. We were both nameless to him…of course, I fully planned on treating Cato the same way.

Azure had stumbled over to lean against the nearest tree, hand still pressed against her wound tightly.

Ben opened his mouth to protest. "I don't think-"

"You'll stay here, too," Cato interjected coolly. "I doubt she'd be able to defend herself regardless, let alone while treating someone's injury."

The derision in his tone, as usual, pulled at my nerves. But Azure was clearly in a lot of pain, and the others were now looking at me expectantly, so I found myself heading over towards her reluctantly. Better this than help them kill other tributes, I thought, feeling something pull at my gut.

"You sure they'll come after you?" Caspian asked her, a bit disbelievingly. "I don't see or hear anything,"

It was true; since the first loud male yell we'd heard, there had been no signs of other tributes besides Azure. There weren't any lights in the distance, either.

Azure made a sound almost like a scoff. "I'm sure. I stole a lot of food."

My eyebrows rose as I glanced at the pack slung over her shoulder. Bold move, I thought. Reckless, too. I set my axe and backpack on the ground next to her and unzipped it. I began to dig around for supplies, pulling out bandages and a tub of medicine and setting them aside.

Caspian was grinning broadly. "Naughty, naughty," he said with a sneer. "But still. We need to be sure they'll head this way. Why don't you let out a nice scream to draw their attention?"

"What?" She asked incredulously, still panting.

"I don't want to waste time running around after them. We need to draw them here."

"I'm…I'm not…"

With a quick blur of movement, Caspian had stepped towards her and flicked his trident upwards in a smooth motion until it was pointing right at her injured stomach. Just inches away from where her crimson-coated hand was pressed against the wound tightly. I glared at him in open disbelief, freezing in place. Surely he wouldn't…

"Don't make me do it. You know I will," he said, a taunting note in his voice.

Azure's glare looked like she wanted to kill him on the spot, and was simultaneously completely unsurprised. After a couple of tense heartbeats—Caspian still poised to strike at his own fellow District 4 tribute if she didn't act as bait for approaching tributes—she tilted her head back then and let out a loud yell of pain. It rang shrilly through the quiet night air, breaking through the taut silence. Though she was only yelling as part of Caspian's trap, to avoid getting struck by the boy from 4, I could hear the sincerity in her yell. I could see the way the deep wound was still bleeding, staining her hands.

Jerking out of my shock caused by Caspian's threats, I pulled the container of water out of my pack, along with a strip of gauze.

"Seriously?" Ben asked Caspian, disgust evident in his voice. I felt the same way. How could he treat someone from his district like that?

"That'll draw them out, making this easier," Caspian responded airily. He turned towards Cato and Bastion, who were shifting from foot to foot, probably eager to get going. Even from here, I could see the way Bastion was looking back and forth between the tributes from District 4, seemingly caught off-guard by Caspian's behavior.

"Don't underestimate them," Azure bit out. "They have more supplies. And 10 has night vision glasses like yours."

"That'll make it more fun, then," Caspian said, not sounding even slightly concerned.

As I unscrewed the top of a container full of water so that I could rinse Azure's wound, my hands trembled briefly. I was fully realizing the implication of what might be about to happen.

And, just a few seconds later, a beam of flashlight cut through the forest, briefly winking through a break in the trees.

They were headed this way.

"Let's go," Cato broke in quietly. "Flashlights stay off until we're close. Use the trees for cover so 10 can't see us as easily."

Caspian and Bastion did not hesitate, immediately stepping forward on a course to intercept the ongoing tributes.

Cato moved to join them, only pausing briefly to turn back towards us. "Don't let anyone get past," he said to Ben, before throwing a glare in my direction. "Don't do anything stupid."

Of course, he'd say something like that. Zero faith in me at all.

Then he was gone, and Azure's heavy breathing brought me back to the present. She had slid down the tree until she was resting against the base of the trunk, both hands pressed against the wound now. It appeared her energy was spent, or perhaps the adrenaline had worn off.

Ben was standing rigidly nearby, scanning the forest intently, as we could hear the footsteps of the others fading.

Don't think about it, I thought. All you can do is treat Azure.

I sank to my knees in front of the girl, whose expression was taut with pain. I would admit it: there was a tiny, horrifically selfish part of me that didn't want to help her. She was a Career. She would certainly be trying to kill me at some point during these Games. She was an enemy…more of a threat to me than most.

That survivalist part of me just wanted to let her bleed out. That would be one less tribute that could prevent me from going home. If she died, Lambent would suffer, too. It would help me in the Arena.

Another part of me recoiled at the thought of just letting her suffer. I still wanted to cling to my humanity, and even contemplating the idea of doing nothing, allowing her to die, was…cold.

The fact that the two sides of my brain were warring so strongly was horrifying. Was I already letting empathy slip away? I'd have to face hard choices if I wanted to survive in here. I knew that. But…

Yet, I abruptly realized that at the end of the day, I didn't have a choice here. My pragmatic versus empathetic internal battle was ultimately irrelevant. I wasn't a healer by trade, so there was no way for me to know if Azure's wound would ultimately be fatal. But even if it were, she would probably take a couple of hours to bleed out, I reckoned. She wouldn't die before the others got back. And if they got back and realized I'd just left her here, untreated and bleeding…I didn't think that would go over well with the alliance.

"Lay down on your back," I instructed her quietly. This angle was not ideal, with her curled up against the base of the trunk. The wound was across the left side of the girl's stomach. Maybe a knife had caught her? Grimacing, Azure followed my instructions, scooting outward from the tree trunk—my hand under her back, supporting her and helping lower her—until she lay flat on her back on the ground, eyes clouded with pain as she stared up at the sky.

"I need to lift your shirt out of the way so I can rinse the wound," I said lowly, trying to keep my voice level. I had to focus on the here and now. I couldn't think about Cato and the others, charging into battle.

Azure hesitated, then nodded. She finally pulled her hand away from the gash and I could see it; jagged and fairly deep. Even in the darkness, the thin moonlight showed me it would need stitches, but I didn't have the time right now (nor could I see well enough without turning on a flashlight and risking drawing attention). With the limited light I had, the best I could do was clean it and apply pressure until the others got back.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, I grabbed the hem with both hands and lifted Azure's shirt (trying to ignore the way she winced), peeling it away from the deep cut. Blood made the shirt stick to the wound more than necessary. I only pulled it up far enough to expose her stomach, trying not to outwardly cringe. The amount of blood probably made it look even worse than it actually was.

"Do you guys need help?" Ben's voice called softly from nearby. He was fidgeting; I could tell he felt useless just standing there.

"Not yet," I responded, glancing at him. "Honestly, keeping watch helps put my mind at ease. Just tell me if you see anything."

Ben's grip shifted on his hefty axe before he nodded, turning his gaze back towards the dark forest, turning in a slow circle. The others were far out of earshot. They could already be fighting by now…

I re-focused on Azure. One thing at a time, I thought, pulse pounding in my ears. "This is going to sting," I said, grabbing the unscrewed container of water. "But I have to rinse it,"

"I know," Azure grit out in response, curtly. I couldn't be offended; I knew she was in a lot of pain. She was clearly exhausted, too; her body trembled slightly. I was sure she hated feeling weak.

Maybe I didn't need to explain what I was doing to her. She was a Career. She had presumably been trained in first aid. Hell, Azure could probably do this herself…except she was in a lot of pain, and I had the supplies. From what she said earlier, the pack she stole only contained food.

Somehow, I didn't think it would come across well to the cameras if I told her, hey, here are the supplies, do this yourself.

I tipped the bottle over, thoroughly splashing water across the deep cut, trying to clear the blood away as much as I could. Azure recoiled but didn't cry out, instead digging her hands into the grassy forest floor on either side of her. I found myself impressed by her resilience. Blood trickled into the grass below, staining it crimson.

I had pulled out the small container of medicine that I'd used on my own cuts earlier. Her injury was presumably far too deep for the gel to treat effectively without stitches, but maybe it could somehow help slow the bleeding; it was fancy Capitol technology, after all. I quickly splashed some water across my fingers to make sure they were clean before rapidly unscrewing the lid and getting a generous amount on my fingertips. Without hesitation, I smeared it across Azure's wound as best as I could. She recoiled again with a hiss of pain. I felt disgust well up within me at the way blood was already seeping from the wound again, smearing across her lightly tanned skin as I tried to spread the medicine.

I was just about to grab a clean cloth to apply pressure to the wound when I heard it: a loud, male yell of pain, reverberating throughout the forest. Ben turned to face the source of the sound, gripping his axe tightly.

What if that was Cato? What if he's about to die, and one of your hands is about to be useless?

Ben was searching the tree line intently, making sure nobody was approaching us.

No. You can't think about that right now. What are you going to do, charge after them? You'd get killed.

A cannon went off. I flinched immediately, but I didn't feel anything; no pain reverberating through my hand and arm, nothing. So, it couldn't be Cato, then. Glancing at Ben, it looked like he was still fine, too.

Trembling slightly, I grabbed the largest, thickest bandage that I'd brought—I wasn't sure how long it would last—and pressed it tightly against the bleeding gash, using my palms to apply pressure. A whimper of pain did escape Azure's lips this time, though I knew she was trying to restrain it.

Still holding the bandage in place against Azure's stomach, I turned to face Ben. "See anything?" I asked, noting his rigid stance.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

I knew I shouldn't be this concerned. They had been built and trained for this. They certainly had an advantage in a three-on-three. It was just the "not knowing" that was getting to me, especially when Ben and I were dependent on our partners not dying.

I haven't told Ben what the penalty is for losing your partner, I realized abruptly. We never talked about it. Does he know? Has he come across someone who has lost their partner?

Before I could say something, though, a second cannon went off, causing me to flinch once more. This time my flinch jostled Azure slightly and she hissed in pain again, causing me to apologize softly. She was still breathing heavily, I realized. I wasn't sure how far she'd run, but that couldn't have been smart with an injury like this. She probably made it a lot worse.

Not that I blamed her. If there were three tributes chasing her, she didn't have much choice.

I glanced around the forest, trying not to panic. Ben and I still could use both of our hands. Assuming that the penalty was immediate, then, that meant that neither cannon had been for Cato or Caspian. So surely, they were winning the fight. Easily. There should only be one tribute left.

I glanced towards my supplies. I really needed to bind this bandage to Azure's stomach, to keep up the pressure against the wound once we set off. "Can you hold this in place for a second?" I asked her.

Her eyes reflected the pain she must be feeling, but Azure nodded. Her hands replaced mine as she grimaced, pretty features contorted as she held the bandage in place, but she was steady. Handling this far better than I would have, probably. The advantage of being trained for this.

I quickly grabbed the roll of gauze I'd brought, unrolling it about halfway before using the knife from my backpack to cut it to a length that would hopefully work. The next part of the process was a bit of an ordeal, as Azure had to let go of the bandage to lift herself off the ground slightly, so that I could wrap the gauze around her body a few times. This proved to be an extremely painful affair for her, and I tried to drown out the agonized noises she made. But soon it was over, and I was tying the ends of the strip of gauze as tightly as I dared around her stomach, securing the bandage firmly against the wound.

Only a couple of minutes after I finished dressing the gash—Azure remained lying on her back, catching her breath—Ben exclaimed. I turned to see the beams of two flashlights approaching, accompanied by the sounds of tributes crashing through the undergrowth.

I grabbed my axe, scrambling to my feet. Panic briefly rose in my chest before I realized that it was more than likely the Careers. Ben glanced over his shoulder at me, shifting into a stance that suggested he was willing to swing his own axe in the event the tributes approaching were hostile.

But the two of us quickly relaxed, as Cato and Caspian emerged from the tree line. Caspian looked completely buoyant, while Cato appeared to be seething. The two were seemingly unharmed at first glimpse; at least, until I looked closer and noted a bleeding cut across Cato's forearm, on his sword arm. It wasn't as deep as Azure's wound, but blood was still soaking into his shirtsleeve.

"Good to see you all safe and sound," Caspian greeted us cheerily, and I could feel his gaze roving across me.

Cato had scanned us and realized nothing horrendous had happened in his absence, so he was storming his way over towards me. At first, I thought I was somehow in trouble before I realized he was just aiming for the first aid supplies I'd already pulled out. He dropped his flashlight then rolled up his sleeve, reaching down to grab the mostly-empty container of water. He poured the remainder of the liquid over his cut with hardly a flinch. As if he didn't even register the pain. Then Cato grabbed one of the smaller leftover bandages and pressed it tightly against his injury, before whirling to glare at Caspian.

The blonde was aimlessly twirling his trident; it glinted in the wane light. Was I imagining the scarlet coating the tips of the weapon?

"What?" Caspian asked innocently.

"You know what," Cato bit out coldly.

"I was only helping," the boy drawled.

"I didn't need your help."

Caspian shrugged, grinning. "You should just be glad that's one more dead."

Everything about Cato's body language was threatening. "It was cowardly."

It sounded like Caspian had interjected himself into Cato's fight, and Cato resented the intervention. I supposed some of the Careers—particularly those from 2—took pride in their kills, so the boy from 4 intervening would have that effect on Cato.

Caspian shrugged. "I'm here to win, however I can. Cowardly or not." He tossed a glance towards Azure. "Marlin's dead, by the way."

Caspian had killed the other boy from his district. And wasn't the slight bit put out by it. The thought made something uncomfortable slither under my skin. How could he just talk about it so flippantly?

"Whatever," Azure bit out. "He was going to betray me."

Caspian chortled. "Not sure why you would trust him to begin with. He isn't your partner."

"Neither are you," she retorted.

"It's probably better that you don't trust me, then, isn't it?" he responded.

So Caspian was insufferable and dangerous even to those from District 4.

"If you pull that shit again—" Cato injected himself into the conversation again, but Caspian cut him off.

"Relax, 2, next time I'll make sure you get your precious kill," he said snidely.

"Make sure of it. Otherwise, we'll have a problem." Cato's voice was as menacing as I'd ever heard it. He stood just a few feet away from me, still pressing the bandage against the cut on his arm, but his sword was gripped tightly in his other hand.

Maybe I wasn't the only one who hated Caspian.

"Wouldn't want that," Caspian responded lightly, but his body language had shifted into something noticeably less casual, and there was a dark undertone in his voice.

Tension snapped in the air, for a couple of taut seconds. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Something was simmering just under the surface, here. Something deadly and dangerous. I glanced between the two boys, feeling discomfort prickling at the back of my neck. There was a storm brewing. And Ben and I might be the ones dealing with the fallout.

Ben clearly had similar thoughts, because his voice broke into the thick atmosphere. "Where's Bastion?"

Cato held Caspian's gaze—some sort of silent battle of egos going on—for a second longer, before his head snapped over towards my fellow District 7 tribute. I felt myself relax marginally, hoping the moment had passed.

"He took off, chasing after 10," Cato said shortly. "The man ran as soon as the second cannon went off."

Of course, he ran, I thought. Marlin was his partner. As soon as he died, the boy from 10 lost the use of one of his hands. He knew it was a hopeless fight.

But I didn't voice these thoughts out loud.

There was still a certain stiffness lingering around Cato and Caspian as we waited for the sound of a cannon, or for Bastion to return. Fortunately, they didn't attack each other. The threat, though, lurked just under the surface, unaddressed. Cato wrapped gauze around his arm—I didn't offer to help, nor would he ever have asked—and Caspian snacked on something from his pack. I checked on Azure's bandage; I could already see some of the blood seeping through. It needed stitches. Ben paced across the forest floor, but stayed close by me.

There was no cannon, and eventually, after maybe half an hour, Bastion returned empty-handed. He informed us that the man from 10 was an incredibly strong runner. That, coupled with the fact that he'd also had the advantage of night vision—while Bastion didn't—just made him impossible to catch. Bastion was smarter than to keep chasing on his own, once the man was well out of sight.

From what Bastion recounted, the two had clashed at the beginning of the battle, as the man from 10 was seemingly competent with a machete, his weapon of choice. But as soon as the cannon had sounded signifying Marlin's death, the tribute from 10 had abandoned the fight entirely. Apparently, Marlin's death was actually the second cannon we'd heard. The first was the older woman from 10, who had been allied with them. Caspian had killed her quickly, before sneaking up and killing Marlin while he fought Cato.

As soon as 10 took off, Bastion had given chase immediately, but 10 had already put a lot of distance between them before the other two Careers were even close enough to try to join the chase. Cato and Caspian had instead searched the two dead tributes for supplies, taking what they could before heading back to us.

From Cato's anger, I knew he thought Caspian's actions during the battle were cowardly. He probably wanted the thrill of a one-on-one fight, I thought with disgust. To really prove his superiority. But at the end of the day, it was the Hunger Games. They were brutal no matter what. I fully expected the Careers to be despicable in their actions, to enjoy every minute of this. I wasn't remotely surprised that Caspian would take every advantage to kill, however he could. I had fully recognized that he was a monster by now.

I knew Cato would hold onto that resentment, though. Maybe Caspian was right there next to me on the list of tributes he planned to kill.

The hunt was now over for the night. They had gotten multiple kills, and we had an ally with an injury that needed treatment. Azure couldn't stay out here, but nobody really wanted to split up. There was still simmering tension between Cato and Caspian, Ben wouldn't leave my side, and nobody wanted to take Azure back on their own. Plus, we'd already been gone for well over two hours, and it would probably take nearly that amount of time to walk back to the pond, with Azure slowing our pace.

As we gathered up our things and set off back towards the north—Bastion supporting Azure to help her walk—all I could really focus on now was that two more people had died tonight. That made nineteen total. Nineteen lives extinguished before the sun rose on the 5th day of the Arena.

But, on the other hand, that meant only five more people would need to die before the first Arena would be over. Before I'd be one step closer to making it home.

I tried to focus on that: the tiniest sliver of hope that I could get back, that I could see my family again. That I could somehow escape this hellish Arena, the screams of dying tributes ringing in my ears, Autumn's crumpled body, the sight of Azure's blood seeping through her fingertips.

But somehow, I knew I'd have nightmares tonight.

…

It was a slow—but fortunately uneventful—trip back to the pond.

Lambent, naturally, was relieved to find his partner in (mostly) one piece. We'd stopped once on the way back for me to change her bandages. Apparently, I was in still charge of handling that. I had informed the others that she really needed stitches, which I was also capable of doing, but the Careers determined the priority was getting back first. Azure herself agreed with them, insisting the temporary dressing was good enough to make it to camp. It was true that the pressure was helping, as she wasn't bleeding through her bandages that quickly. Or maybe the medicine I'd applied actually had helped slow the bleeding somehow; not that I could pretend to understand how Capitol medicine really worked.

Either way, once we arrived at camp, I decided my duties had been discharged for the evening. Especially when Lambent, her Arena partner, should be perfectly capable of stitching her up. He was a Career. He should have the training for it. I wasn't trying to be selfish, but I doubted Azure would help stitch me up if the situations were reversed.

Fortunately, I wasn't forced to put my foot down, because Azure approached Lambent directly to assist with her injury. She probably felt uncomfortable relying on someone from an outer district for assistance, I thought.

But I wasn't complaining.

I rinsed my hands thoroughly using a container filled with water from the pond before rejoining Ben, where he lay in his sleeping bag adjacent to mine. I was bone tired, yet again, and still short on sleep overall. I shimmied into my sleeping bag, pulling it up to my chest, shifting to get comfortable. Every line of my body was tense. I tried to force myself to relax, bit by bit. Tonight had been unpleasant, to say the least. I had my backpack nestled next to me, and one of my hands was outside of the sleeping bag, clutching my axe.

Just in case.

As I wished Ben a good night and began to doze off, I could only hope the Gamemakers were pleased that there had been deaths tonight, and wouldn't cause any more chaos.

At least for the time being.

…

It was a little after dawn when I awoke, blinking sleepily and yawning. In terms of physical comfort, this was the most pleasant night I'd had in the Arena. The sleeping bag was insulated and much better than the ground or a branch of a tree.

The nightmares, of course, had still left me tossing and turning. That would probably be a permanent thing, now.

I slowly sat up, stretching and then flexing my hands—gripping a weapon as I fell asleep every night wasn't exactly comfortable, and every time I woke up from a nightmare, I clutched it for reassurance as I felt back asleep—before scanning the camp.

Everyone was asleep…save for Cato.

He was over by the piles of supplies, seemingly tinkering with the bandage on his forearm, the wound from the night before. Had he been keeping watch through the early hours of the morning? I supposed someone had to trade off for Lambent and Chiffon at some point. It would probably be my turn soon, then.

Hopefully I wouldn't have to join the hunt again tonight.

My stomach rumbled and I dug through my pack nearby until I pulled some of the beef strips, munching them and idly staring off into the distance. It would be hot, soon, once the sun fully emerged from above the horizon.

Please, let today be uneventful, I thought fervently.

And—for the first time in the Arena—I got my wish. Day 5 of the Arena passed in a relatively calm fashion.

Cato didn't go with Bastion to check the traps that morning. Either he didn't trust the others not to try to kill me once he left, or it was me he didn't trust. After all, I was just a liability to him. Instead, once everyone was fully awake, Cato retreated into the shade, sleeping until the afternoon (confirming that he'd kept watch through the early morning; I was surprised he'd managed to do it on so little sleep). It was Bastion and Chiffon that were gone for a couple of hours, checking the traps to make sure no tributes had accidentally stumbled into them, but they were back around noon, reporting their lack of success.

Ben and I mostly kept to ourselves again. Why wouldn't we? The Careers spent most of the day in the same fashion as the previous one: bragging, planning, sleeping, honing their weapons, swimming, or (in the case of the boys from 2) working out despite the heat. With one notable exception, of course: Azure, who was mostly immobile due to her injury, trying to avoid moving around too much while the stitches and Capitol medicine worked their magic.

I did wade into the water, as deeply as I dared, in order to rinse off fully in the pond (fully clothed). I felt too grimy not to bathe. I was still being stubborn about revealing my body in front of all of the others, but honestly, it was so hot out here that having wet clothes wasn't even that unpleasant.

It was late afternoon, and I was walking around in the shallows of the pond with Ben swimming (effortlessly, I thought jealously) in the water nearby, when the girl from 4 approached us. Moving gingerly, she came to stand a short distance from me, water up to her knees. Her eyes were gazing wistfully across the pond. She probably wanted to swim, but was reluctant to aggravate her wound.

"I never thanked you," she said quietly, after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

I glanced over at her, surprised. She wasn't looking at me, and looked about as uncomfortable as I felt. I was taken aback, not expecting her to say anything about it.

"So…thanks, I guess, for helping me last night," Azure added, tossing me a furtive glance.

"You're welcome," I said, after a couple seconds of silence. Because there wasn't really anything else I could say. It wasn't like I'd had much choice but to help her. The selfish, horrid part of me hadn't wanted to at all.

I felt guilty, remembering how I'd been torn in my decision. Especially when she'd now made the effort to thank me. I tried to brush the guilt away; she was a Career.

Having sympathy for them was not a good idea.

That would only get me killed.

But, as I tossed another look at the freckle-faced girl, still staring out over the water aimlessly—and remembered the way Caspian had treated her—I couldn't help but wonder if maybe she was slightly less monstrous than the others.

…

That night, I watched the recap wordlessly, already knowing full well the two tributes that had died: Marlin from 4, with his dark features and somewhat nervous expression, and the older woman from District 10. Marlin had always seemed a bit uncomfortable being in the Games, at least for a Career, though he'd still gotten a Career score. His massive, muscular partner from District 10 was still out there, somewhere, having escaped the altercation last night.

And he no longer had the use of one of his hands. I had made sure to mention that little tidbit to Ben today, just so he knew exactly what would happen if Caspian died. Like me, he had been horrified (yet unsurprised) by the viciousness of the Gamemakers.

I declined to mention it to Cato. In my opinion, the punishment was horrific. But what if my partner felt the trade off of killing me was worth it, particularly as we got closer to the end of the first Arena? What if he were ambidextrous? To me, it was safer with Cato fearing the unknown. At least for now.

After the death recap, there was a dispute among the Careers as they figured out who would go hunting tonight.

How do they get anything done with how arrogant and stubborn they all are? I thought, Ben and I observing their arguments from a distance.

At the end, it was decided Lambent would stay behind, namely because Azure couldn't hunt with her injury. He had pitched a fit at first, since he had remained in camp the previous night; but ultimately, the boy from 1 realized he didn't have much choice but to stay with his partner. Especially when he was paranoid that someone might try to kill her if he weren't around.

There really wasn't much trust among this alliance, unsurprisingly. Although Lambent seemed to conveniently forget the fact that if we wanted to kill Azure, we would have just left her injured and bleeding out the night before.

Either way, the end result was that—once again—I was being forcibly included in the hunt.

Lucky me.

…

Fortunately, the outcome of this hunt was far less fruitful—by the Careers' standards—than the previous one. We didn't find one tribute, and nothing eventful happened during the hours we were away.

However, I did realize a few things during our late-night trek through the woods.

First, after spending more and more time with him, it became evident that Bastion's temperament was far different than what I'd expect from a Career. He had the confidence and desire to win, of course, but he just seemed so…laid back, in comparison to the others. Caspian's behavior and Cato's snappy comments didn't get under the dark-haired boy's skin in the slightest. He didn't even make condescending comments to Ben and me. Pretty much everything Bastion said was either a joke, or a lighthearted jibe of some sort. Unlike Cato, his stance and behavior didn't get more and more aggressive as the night wore on. It was as if Bastion was just happy to be here….as if we were all just spending time together as friends, not in the midst of a battle to the death where we eventually might have to kill each other.

It was bizarre.

Bastion's commentary and frequent joking comments towards Cato did provide me with the knowledge that they had apparently known each other since they were small children. I found myself briefly wondering what Cato would have been like as a child. Before he was trained and molded into the monstrous, brutal boy he was now.

Then I realized it shouldn't matter. That was the past. Now, he was a dangerous tribute dead set on killing me. Bastion's occasional anecdotes or comments about their childhood were just jarring, to me, because I didn't want to think about who they had been before they became Careers.

The second thing I realized tonight was that Caspian was undoubtedly the most insufferable person in the whole group. He was harder to be around than Cato, which was quite an accomplishment. I had noticed it the previous night, but his behavior was even more obnoxious tonight, probably because he had seen the results of his two kills in the death recap. He was practically preening and strutting around like a puffed-up bird trying to show off.

Third, I realized that Cato might actually hate Caspian as much as he hated me. Perhaps my partner had been willing to tolerate the boy from 4 in larger groups during training, or when he wasn't forced to be around him basically twenty-four hours per day. Or maybe it was the fact that Caspian had interfered with his kill last night that really pushed Cato over the edge. Either way, the animosity was evident between them.

It seemed like—for probably the first time ever—Cato and I agreed on something besides how much we disliked each other.

…

That night, the nightmares were especially bad.

I tossed and turned, waking up what felt like every thirty minutes or so, sweat gathering at my temples, heart pounding so fast I thought it might escape my chest.

I didn't scream aloud—that was probably for the better, because I couldn't imagine the humiliation that would result.

But, after a particularly unpleasant reimagining of Autumn's death—only this time she wasn't the only one, I was also seeing the various gruesome deaths of my loved ones in the Arena—I woke up with silent tears streaming down my cheeks.

Well, that was enough of that. Blinking through my vision blurred with tears, it looked like the sky was lightening. Just before dawn, then. I doubted that I would get any more sleep.

I sat up, drying my face quickly, and quietly crawled out of my sleeping bag. The strong emotions from the nightmares still roiled in my chest. Fear still hovered at the edges of my mind, and I tried to brush it away with little success. It was impossible to be entirely unafraid in here.

I glanced around—the entire camp was silent and still, dark figures huddled in sleeping bags or obscured by tents. Someone had to be keeping watch (I wasn't asked to, thankfully), but I couldn't see too well without much light. The campfire was just faintly glowing embers. I tiptoed towards the still pond, figuring I could at least wash my face, and hopefully cleanse some of the horrible sensations left over from the gruesome images my mind concocted.

I knelt just at the edge of the sand where the cove met the water, gathering the cool liquid and splashing it against my skin, rubbing it across the back of my neck. Some of it soaked into my collar and trickled down my back, underneath my shirt, making me shiver. It wasn't hot out yet, as the sun was still just below the horizon. I glanced up at the sky, wiping at my face.

"You really need to work on your situational awareness," a quiet, cold voice said from behind me.

I let out a startled gasp, snatching my axe from the sand and scrambling to my feet, turning towards him. Cato had managed to sneak up on me soundlessly, and was standing less than ten feet away, looking severely displeased.

"Don't do that," I snapped, trying to calm my racing heartbeat, voice scarcely above a whisper. How could someone be so large be so quiet?

Or maybe I was just that unobservant.

Cato's eyes narrowed. "You're distracted and you let someone sneak up on you. You should be thanking me for exposing a weakness." He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake the others.

"We're at camp. It's not like I'm wandering around the Arena without paying attention," I replied stubbornly.

"Are you implying that everyone at camp is trustworthy? Seems to contradict what you said two days ago."

I huffed out a breath. I was annoyed, especially when I realized that he had a point. "How do you function on so little sleep?" I asked instead, changing the subject, eyes darting behind him towards the other Careers, fast asleep. Cato had only slept for a few hours yesterday, and I wasn't sure if he'd gone to bed after Ben and I did last night. Had he been up until morning again?

"I get enough," he replied coolly.

"Doesn't seem like it."

"Keeping tabs on me, now?" Cato asked sarcastically, eyes boring into mine.

"Shouldn't I? You're my partner, after all," I responded, barely keeping irritation out of my voice. "You do the same thing."

"Only because there's always the possibility that you'll do something stupid and make my life difficult," he bit back.

I heaved out a heavy breath. There it was again, the ever-present derision. Part of me wanted to argue (didn't it always?) but the rest of me just didn't have the energy right now, after a night of such terrible sleep. The nightmares still lingered in the corners of my mind. "I went through a lot when I was trying to find you, and I didn't get myself killed. That has to count for something." I didn't bother to hide the exasperation in my voice.

Cato scoffed, but his expression became inscrutable, and instead of responding he turned to stare out over the pond. His rigid profile did nothing to inform me about his thought processes, and the silence stretched between us. I mirrored his movements, gazing out over the still water, eyes falling upon the waterfall in the distance.

No words passed for a moment, but I was tense, because being this close to Cato was never a positive thing. I was somewhat caught off guard, though, by his next words. Because they were absent of the usual condescension.

"You mentioned flesh eating insects and a giant scorpion," he said, in a curt tone. There was no question in his voice, but I felt like he was prying for information anyway. He wanted to know some of the dangers of the Arena, so that he could better prepare for them. Clearly, he had been listening when I recounted the shit I'd been through.

I debating not telling him anything, but then realized that would be pointless. We were working together in the first Arena, and the creatures I'd seen would no doubt only be present for this part of the Games; the Capitol wouldn't want the same dangers repeated in the second or third Arena. So, telling Cato what I'd seen shouldn't give him an unfair advantage. The information should only serve to hopefully make him realize I wasn't useless. Maybe he'd be less condescending then.

Though I highly doubted it.

"Yeah," I said after a pause, just as Cato turned to look at me, no doubt ready to make a sharp comment if I didn't answer his question. "The insects were huge, but I saw them from a distance. They were eating a tribute alive, so I ran. They didn't chase me."

A brief silence from the boy from 2, then, "And the scorpion?"

I looked down at the ground, feeling a wave of unpleasantness wash over me. I saw the massive pincers, the lethal stinger poised to strike. Disgust welled up in my throat. But I couldn't come across as weak, now. If I couldn't even talk about the things I'd seen, how did I expect to survive in here, especially when future occurrences could be worse?

"It came after me and Autumn…the other girl from my district…in the middle of the night." My voice wavered on her name, but I pressed onward. "She was sick, and ran out of strength. I tried to help her, but…it caught us and killed her."

I glanced at Cato; he was staring out over the water again, still wearing that inscrutable mask. "And then you ran away again to escape it," he concluded.

I couldn't tell if Cato was mocking me or not, but I felt an odd twist of defensiveness, because I'd found a way to drive it away. Even if it had been too late to save my fellow District 7 tribute.

"No, actually. I figured out that this weird flashlight—it has this purplish-blue beam—hurts the scorpion, when shone directly in its eyes. So, I just kept doing that until it took off."

Cato turned to face me, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his features. More silence for a few seconds as he pondered my version of events. "Was that flashlight in the backpack of supplies you found?"

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze.

"That's convenient," he responded, eyes narrowing.

"I thought the same thing," I replied honestly. Because I'd also come to the conclusion that the Gamemakers had orchestrated it all. If I hadn't figured out the flashlight, I would have died. But since I did, my reward was to keep fighting in this miserable Arena.

Cato didn't exactly look impressed, but at least he wasn't insulting me right this second.

"Actually, I think the light that you all were chasing in the woods was my flashlight," I added, the memory coming back to me. "I'd kept it turned on for a bit even after the scorpion was gone. I wanted to make sure it wouldn't come back."

"You're lucky that we were the closest tributes nearby, being reckless like that." The condescending tone had emerged in his voice again. We'd managed to go a few sentences without outright insulting each other, so Cato clearly wanted to bring back the status quo.

But I just found myself shaking my head. "I'm not sure luck had anything to do with it," I responded, more thinking out loud than anything. I turned to gaze back over the pond.

Cato made a quiet sound that seemed disparaging, but my eyes had caught on something across the water.

More specifically, the waterfall.

"Hey…is that…" I began, frowning with confusion. I blinked rapidly a few times, then stared intently; it seemed like the waterfall had become smaller, somehow, and was continue to narrow and weaken as I watched.

Cato's eyes had followed mine. He tensed, observing the same spectacle as I was. The two of us stood in complete silence for a couple of minutes, watching as the cascade of water grew thinner and thinner until it was a tiny stream, then a trickle, and then…

Nothing.

"They emptied the river again," I said, stating the obvious. The area seemed oddly still without the sounds of the crashing water. Even the wildlife seemed to have quieted.

Cato didn't respond, just scanning the area.

I couldn't help the sense of uneasiness I felt. The river had been left running for days; why turn the water back off now?

Were they trying to force tributes away from the rivers?

But then something happened that increased my uneasiness tenfold: a very loud twisting, grating sound, as if something heavy had been moved out of the way, coming from the pond in front of us. Reminiscent of the sound when they'd turned the rivers on a few days ago. I gripped my axe, taking a step back, as Cato immediately drew his sword. The sound of rasping metal heightened my nerves even further as both of us stared out across the pond, which was no longer still. In fact, the water was rippling, and moving inward, and down. Gathering and swirling around the very center of the pond, as if something was pulling it in. As if something was…

Draining it.

The Gamemakers were draining the pond.

I could hear the sounds of the others at camp behind us, clearly awoken by the loud sound, and wondering what the hell was going on. Cato and I didn't bother to answer their shouts across the cove, just watching the water being pulled inward and then sucked underground, transfixed. Shortly afterwards, the group was making their way over to us, exclaiming loudly as they realized what Cato and I already knew.

The pond was being emptied. Even as we stood there, the water level was rapidly decreasing, as the Gamemakers drained it all away, pulling it underneath the earth and out of sight.

Ben said something softly from my right, but I barely heard him. My stomach felt twisted in knots, unable to shake the foreboding and unease plaguing me. I wasn't sure what the others were making of this newest development, but to me, the message was loud and clear:

Get a move on.

We couldn't stay here any longer.

…

A/N: Less than a week this time for the update, woo! I hope you all enjoyed the additional Cato and June interactions / dialogue. June did escape this chapter pretty unscathed herself, but she got to put her first aid knowledge to good use.

And the tension builds between Caspian and Cato…I can't imagine THAT will get any worse, right guys…

The next chapter is going to be pretty action-packed, so…brace yourselves. ;)

Thank you for the additional reviews and (on AO3) the SEVERAL kudos I got from the last chapter!