~Chapter Twenty-One: Fractured~
"The vastness of the desert frightened her. Everything looked too far away, even the cloudless sky. There was nowhere you could hide in such emptiness." ―James Carlos Blake, The Rules of Wolfe
Ultimately, the decision was made. We would cross the desert.
I hated the thought of it, but even I didn't see too many other options (not that the Careers cared about my opinion).
The truth was, we had seen no evidence of any water source since setting off earlier today. All of us were growing irritable (well, minus Bastion, who was nearly always in good spirits for reasons I could not fathom). The Careers—being more well-fed and in overall better physical condition—were probably holding up better than me in terms of exhaustion, but none of us liked the idea of doing this all day tomorrow, too. We'd be running low on water after another day like today.
However, nobody was foolish enough to want to cross the desert during the day, so a plan was formulated. We'd travel south for another hour or so—just to be absolutely sure that there were no water sources nearby—before heading right back here to the grassy path (assuming the search for water was fruitless). By that time, it would be well into the evening, and we would take a break until after dark.
After the death recap (not that there had been any deaths today, so far) we'd set off across the empty expanse of dunes.
In theory, the trip across the desert shouldn't take that long. Ben had traveled across the northmost part of it early on in the Arena, and said it couldn't have been more than a few miles wide. But there was no telling if the desert was the same width this far south. During my survey from the top of the giant tree, it had been difficult to tell.
Unfortunately, unlike Ben's journey across the sand, ours would ultimately be an uphill trek. In the distance, the dunes rose higher and higher, with the shadow of the jutting, rocky cliffs occasionally observable in the background.
I really hoped this path wouldn't take us that far. I wasn't feeling up to any rock climbing. Those cliffs had looked pretty steep during my survey of the Arena.
Unsurprisingly, our search for water continued to turn up nothing. After maybe an hour and a half of heading south in hopes of finding another river or pond, it was evident that crossing the desert was our best option (and what the Gamemakers wanted, surely). We turned around and headed back towards the grassy path, tempers continuing to rise among most of the Careers.
In yet another example of pettiness, I was a little glad that the spoiled Careers were forcibly realizing they'd had it relatively easy so far...at least in terms of having a guaranteed supply of food and water in the Arena. Now, they were having to work for the latter instead of having everything handed to them.
We were all subject to the Gamemakers' whim, regardless of district.
Not as fun as you thought, is it? I thought with dark amusement, glaring at Cato's back as he cut aside undergrowth with his sword, evidently annoyed.
We waited out the reminder of the daylight hours in the shade of the forest near the area where the strip of patchy grass stretched off across the dunes. I tried to take small sips of my water, knowing that if we didn't find anything tonight or tomorrow, we'd start having serious issues. If not for this damn heat…
As Ben settled down near me, hair sticking to his forehead with perspiration, I realized the two of us had never experienced anything close to this heat in District 7. It had been quite an adjustment.
After the anthem blared around the Arena, announcing that there were no deaths today—the Gamemakers were probably cooking up something else horrible, I thought—it was time for our journey across the dunes.
We set off, my nervousness spiking the second we exited the shade of the trees. I hated how the landscape itself made me feel vulnerable. I glanced around warily, scanning the barren horizon, seeing absolutely nothing of interest. But as the trees grew further and further away while we trekked eastward, I just couldn't ignore the growing sense of foreboding.
The skies were clear tonight, at least. And the temperature was pleasant. The Gamemakers had created a lovely view of a bright moon and numerous scattered stars. There wasn't a cloud in sight. Out here, though, the sky itself seemed to press down towards us, closer than ever before. It felt…heavy. Like I was being squashed between the stars above me and the sand beneath my feet.
I shook off the feeling. I couldn't lose focus now.
It didn't take long for the fact that we were moving gradually uphill to become more and more evident. The dunes grew taller and wider the furthest east we went. We would crest the top of one, only to see that the next one was larger. It was not an easy walk; the desert wasn't exactly easy to traverse. Our boots were sturdy, but would often sink into the sand, slowing our progress or causing us to scramble slightly for footing.
Some areas were steep, forcing us to adjust our course slightly to reach the ridge of the dune or to otherwise move past it. Then, after cresting the top, we would slip and slide down the other side until we were forced to hike up the next dune.
Needless to say, it was not quick progress. It was tiring, especially after the long day we'd had.
But the grassy path continued to stretch towards the horizon. At times, it was immersed by sand, but there was always tufts of grass just visible somewhere ahead so that we knew we were heading in the right direction. The Gamemakers wouldn't want us to get lost.
The gradual increase in elevation wasn't the only difference I noticed as we progressed. It was getting windier, too. I felt a twinge of anxiety at first before remembering the sky was perfectly clear; it would appear that the Arena was just windier the further east we went. I supposed it made sense. The west side had been almost entirely covered, but bereft of wind. The east was entirely the opposite. Full of open sand, jutting, harsh cliffs in the distance, and gusts of wind that grew more and more frequent.
Unfortunately, the blowing sand did nothing to help our progress. It swirled around our legs, battering at us with the gusts of air. As we walked, it developed a nasty habit of blowing right into our eyes or scraping against our faces tauntingly, particularly when we would crest the top of a dune. I had coughed and spluttered the first time I got a face full of sand, but the others couldn't spare the time to mock me, as they were suffering the same fate.
We quickly learned that the best move was to take some of the extra garments we carried in our packs, wrapping them around our necks and faces for protection. If we kept our heads lowered, it helped shield us from the persistent gusts.
In short, it was not a pleasant journey overall. Our spirits were not improving, especially when we saw no sign of water or the path ending. My legs were starting to really burn as we continued to straggle up and down the massive dunes. It took more effort than normal to walk when my feet were trying to sink into the sand with every step. All of the events from the last several days had left me worn down, as had our arduous trek today. I knew I'd be painfully sore tomorrow.
But I grit my teeth, and dare not complain. We were hardly talking now, especially with our faces mostly obscured to protect from blowing sand. Somehow, I knew that asking to stop wouldn't go over well. What good would that do, anyway? We had stopped for a water break already, only for a few minutes, and I knew the others were eager to get across the sand.
How long had we been traveling, three hours now? We were still moving uphill, but the rocky crags in the distance were much closer, stark against the horizon each time we crossed the top of a dune. We were definitely more than halfway across.
I glanced behind me. Eight sets of footprints trailed behind us, but were already beginning to be obscured by the blowing sand. Erasing them, as if we'd never been here. The thought made something odd twist in my gut.
I kept my head down, struggling forward, following the footsteps of those just ahead of me. Ben was at my side, looking resigned. Even the Careers' pace was slowing slightly, and they'd been trained for this.
As more time passed, I began to stumble more often, feet slipping and sliding in the sand beneath them. Even moving downhill—during the brief moments after we crested a dune before climbing up the next one—was causing issues. It was hard to keep my balance, even though I was (usually) pretty solid on my feet.
At one point I faltered, and probably would have tumbled face-first down the rest of the dune, if not for Ben catching my arm and steadying me. My pride felt a bit wounded, but gratefulness won out. I was sure I'd never hear the end of it if I went rolling all the way down. I thanked him quietly, getting my footing again, feeling winded. Even though it wasn't hot out here, I was sweating heavily underneath my clothing.
I might have to swallow the remainder of my pride and ask for a break, I realized. I really didn't want to, but I could feel my legs trembling slightly, my thigh muscles burning horribly. I couldn't go on too much longer.
Fortunately, me sacrificing my vestiges of pride ended up not being necessary.
"Let's take a break at the top of the next one," Chiffon's voice cut in after a particularly annoying gust of wind, as we staggered down to a dip between two hills of sand. I could tell she was slightly out of breath, though not nearly as badly as I was.
"Agreed," Bastion said, while Ben voiced his agreement, as well.
I glanced ahead and felt my stomach sink—the dune in front of us was the largest one yet. Not too steep to be walkable, but enough that I knew I'd be seriously panting for breath at the top.
We had to be less than an hour away from reaching the far side, though. The desert really wasn't that wide; if not for having to trek up and down dunes which slowed our pace significantly, it probably would have taken less than three hours to reach the point where the sand ended and the terrain became rocky.
Sighing, I glared at the sand in front of me as we began to trudge upward. We'll get a break soon, I promised my aching muscles. We're almost there. Even the Careers can't go too much further.
I mentally repeated this mantra over and over, drowning out my temporary exhaustion and promising my body some much-needed rest if I could just crest the top of this sandy ridge without collapsing. I swallowed my complaints and forced down the severe discomfort, urging my feet to continue. I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to come across as weak, so I just needed to be quiet and continue on. Just for a little bit longer.
And, as we finally crested the top after a couple of very painful minutes, I was glad I did.
Because we'd found it, found what we were looking for. I heard a couple of the Careers whoop in excitement as they spotted it, too:
A water source, in the form of a small oasis.
I felt relief tugging at me, momentarily forgetting my exhaustion and even disregarding the wind whipping sand around me.
In front of us the dune plunged downward, and the oasis was on a flat area below. The area was perfectly hidden from view, I realized. Incredibly steep dunes—like the one we were standing on—surrounded most of it. The area encircled by the towering dunes was maybe a hundred feet wide, but the oasis itself didn't take up all of that space. Surrounding and enclosing the water was lush greenery. A spot of life amidst the barren horizon.
There were small bushes, swaths of reedy grass, and even trees, the green a stark contrast to the surrounding landscape. All of the vegetation was of a different variety than what I'd seen back in the forest, though. The trees had very thin trunks and strange, large leaves clustered at the top. Unfamiliar to me, and not climbable. More suited for the harshness of the desert.
But still. They were trees. It was a welcome sight amongst all the sand, the water even more so.
The Careers were already slipping and sliding down the side of the dune in their haste to get to the water, but I hesitated slightly, eyes scanning the remainder of the area.
Most of the oasis was surrounded by the towering dunes, helping to protect it from discovery unless someone climbed to the top of one of the adjacent dunes like we had.
But, on the other side, exactly opposite to where I stood now, there was a decent-sized gap between the two nearby dunes. A more gradual pathway up and out of the small valley containing the oasis. What I saw there piqued my interest: the grass path that we had been following for the past few hours appeared to continue in that direction, leading out of the valley and continuing to stretch eastward across the remainder of the desert. As if we could continue heading that way, if we wanted.
And there wasn't much desert remaining, I realized. We were very close to the edge of it. I hadn't noticed initially because my attention had been so absorbed by the water, but as my eyes followed the grassy path, I realized the sand ended maybe a quarter mile away from the oasis.
Where the sand ended, the landscape became rough and craggy, tufts of scraggly grass and bushes fighting to grow in the barren soil. The ground began to rise even more sharply, morphing into rocky hills that looked difficult to traverse, but possible.
But beyond those hills it was even worse: sheer cliffs, protruding into the night sky like the backbone of the Arena laid bare. From this distance they looked incredibly imposing. They were jutting into the horizon, jagged, rough, and steep. They couldn't be much more than a couple of miles from here, if we kept going.
I wasn't sure where the edge of the Arena was, but if it was past the point where the large cliffs began, I realized there could certainly be tributes there. There were probably plenty of places to hide between the steep rock formations.
My eyes flitted back to the grassy path, momentarily barely registering that Ben was trying to get my attention. The path continued onwards as far as I could see, persisting even when the sand ended until it wound out of sight behind a relatively large rock formation. Did it continue on past the rocky hills?
If so, I found it even more likely to believe there were tributes that way. And that we were supposed to go look for them. That path—which had brought us this far—might also be a way to cut through the jagged, steep cliffs that were beyond the hills…unless the Gamemakers wanted us to practice our rock climbing.
How exciting that would be, to watch a tribute fall to their death.
But Ben had gently grabbed my arm, jolting me out of focus. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said, tossing him what I hoped was a reassuring look before my eyes focused on the landscape again. "Just checking out our surroundings. The path keeps going, see?" I pointed to the strip of patchy grass in question, winding up and out of the small valley on the opposite side of the oasis.
"We could continue on that way?" Ben said, not looking particularly pleased by the idea. "Doesn't look very welcoming."
"There could definitely be tributes hiding among the cliffs," I responded thoughtfully.
"You're probably right, but I'd rather not think about that right now," he said wryly. "Come on, let's go."
I tore my eyes from the towering cliffs in the distance to see the Careers were already moving about the oasis, trying to find ideal spots to place their sleeping bags and tents amidst the vegetation.
I sighed heavily but followed Ben down the steep downward slope of the dune, legs aching in protest, scrabbling and sliding down the sand. But at least I didn't trip and fall. And at least we'd found water, which was a relief.
Although I couldn't help but worry that if we had found the path of grass so easily, there could be others coming this way, too.
While none of us were overburdened with supplies, we had still been carrying a little more than each of us needed, as insurance. So first, we unloaded the scant extra items we'd brought, putting them into one single pile. It was a far cry from the wealth of supplies we'd had before. The Careers hadn't made a campfire; nobody could be bothered, and we didn't need to warm any food right now.
After approaching the water, I heard a bubbling noise, and examined it closely to realize the very center of the oasis was gurgling, small ripples leading outward from the middle. It was as if the water was constantly being refilled from an underground source. Yet, the water level wasn't increasing at all, meaning the Gamemakers were draining it as much as they were refilling it. So, it was constantly being flushed, then. It should be safe to drink. I took the time to refill my two water containers; though, despite my conclusion, I placed iodine tablets in each and recommended to Ben that he do the same. I needed to be safe, just in case.
Then Ben and I set up our two sleeping bags under a small copse of the strange trees with the slender trunks, in a swath of reedy grass. All eight of us were fairly close together, as this side of the oasis had quite a few more trees. I could throw a stone and easily hit any of the other tributes.
This was probably as safe as I could feel in the unnatural openness of the desert, I figured. But I still wasn't entirely at ease. The tall dunes surrounded most of the circular valley, which meant it was sheltered in some ways, but it also meant that we wouldn't necessarily see any dangers approaching until they were already almost upon us.
Though I doubted any tributes would be stupid enough to try an all-out attack, it was still unnerving.
The Careers, after all of their training, had already considered this. The two people keeping watch would be positioned at opposite sides of the oasis, but at the top of the steep dunes, so that approaching threats could be clearly seen well before they reached us.
It was already very late. I settled down next to Ben, eyeing the Careers, who were clustered nearby trying to hash out a strategy for tomorrow. Thankfully, I wasn't on either of the shifts that would be keeping watch tonight. Weariness was tugging at my entire body…though, despite my exhaustion, I doubted I'd sleep well.
I stared up at the sky aimlessly again. I knew it was a false simulated night sky, crafted to suit the desires of the Gamemakers, but it was still beautiful. Yet I felt like I was betraying myself even having that thought.
How generous of them, to give us such a pretty view, knowing at any second it could be the last thing we see, I thought irritably.
The Careers didn't debate for too much longer. Even they were worn down. They began to settle in nearby, with Lambent and Chiffon debating what to carry with them during their watch, the former picking through the scant supply pile to see what extra weapons we'd brought. I had learned during my time with this alliance that while the boy from 1 preferred a knife, he was actually pretty adept with a wide variety of weapons. Spears, swords, maces, even a bow. I had catalogued that information for later.
Though I hoped I'd never have to put that to practical use. I wasn't dumb enough to think I could take Lambent head-on in combat. Or any of the Careers, really.
My eyelids had just started to droop when Caspian's unpleasant drawl cut into my drowsiness.
"You know, June, there's plenty of room in my tent for one more," he said, the statement carrying through the air. I could practically feel those cunning eyes on me, from where he'd paused outside of his tent a short distance away. But I steadfastly refused to look at him, even as Ben stiffened next to me.
"Not interested."
"Punching down, 4?" Lambent asked from over by the supply pile, voice sharp and mocking. Another thing I'd learned about Lambent was that he didn't think much of me.
"Hey, I'm just trying to give her a good experience before her inevitable death," Caspian responded, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"If that's the case, then you should just stop talking to me," I retorted sharply.
Why can't he just leave me in peace for one night?
"Well, I doubt we'd be doing much talking," the detestable boy responded, the implication clear.
"Can you stop?" Ben asked, an edge in his tone, before a surprising voice interjected.
"Caspian, none of us want to witness your pathetic attempts to flirt," Azure stated, annoyed, sitting up in her sleeping bag. I found myself momentarily bewildered, completely caught off guard by my unlikely savior.
"Speak for yourself," Lambent drawled, evidently finding Caspian's efforts a source of great amusement.
"Oh, did I hit a nerve? What, you don't want to think about Juniper and me spending some quality time together?" Caspian's tone had grown far colder than usual as he spoke to his fellow District 4 tribute.
The girl snorted in response. "I don't want to think about you at all."
I barely fought back the tiny smirk that wanted to form on my lips. So Caspian's bullshit didn't work on Azure, either.
"Azure, you're always welcome to join too, I'm sure we can all fit-"
"She's right," Cato interrupted. "Nobody wants to listen to this shit."
"Getting annoyed that you aren't the center of attention, 2?" Caspian responded snidely.
How stupid is he? I wondered. Riling Cato up? That's the last thing we need right now.
"If you spent more time focusing on Arena strategy instead of trying to get laid, you might actually have a shot at winning," Cato said icily.
Bastion, predictably, snickered loudly at Cato's biting remark, and this time, I couldn't hold back the smirk. I knew Cato's motivation wasn't to defend me, as he really seemed to hate Caspian as much as I did, but a tiny part of me still felt vindicated.
"Funny…the way I spend my time never bothered you before," Caspian stated, an odd note in his voice.
Why won't he just shut up? My brief amusement had been replaced by annoyance once again.
"Because I don't give a fuck about whatever you have going with 1. If you pull this bullshit with her, it doesn't matter. 1's death won't make it harder for me to win."
"Hey, I'm right here!" Chiffon interjected indignantly in response; the first time she'd spoken during the conversation, I realized.
It was a cold thing for Cato to say, albeit true.
Cato did—for the time being—have a vested interest in my continued survival. Caspian's fixation on me was understandably a negative thing. Hell, I'd made sure to warn Cato about it. And he was evidently extra-focused on Caspian's actions now, as evidenced by the growing tension between the two.
"If you say so," Caspian retorted, the smirk back in his tone. He had decided not to pursue the argument, apparently. "Well in that case, Chiffon, you're welcome to join me once you're done keeping watch."
Now it just seemed like he was openly mocking instead of flirting.
Chiffon just huffed, muttering a comment that sounded derogatory before snatching a spear and stomping away. Her posture was rigid as she began to climb the dune to the spot where she'd be keeping watch.
So, she had finally realized that her manipulative seduction techniques weren't really working. That was probably better for her in the end, anyway.
The group settled down after that, the boy from 4 thankfully disappearing into his tent, and I crawled into my sleeping bag with annoyance still simmering under the surface.
"He's such a fucking asshole," Ben whispered after a minute or two, quiet enough to where only I could hear, especially with some of the others still talking.
"Yeah. He is." I responded, matching his tone.
"I wish he'd just leave you alone."
"I wish I'd never made any snarky comments towards him. That only encouraged him, apparently."
Ben chuckled under his breath. "You not making a snarky comment? That'll be the day,"
I turned my head to face him; his eyes were glimmering with amusement. "I resent that implication," I responded, but I couldn't help but smile at him in response.
And, shortly after, I had managed to push all thoughts of the disgusting boy from 4 out of my head for the time being, falling into a restless sleep.
…
The Careers' spirits were significantly improved the next day, day 8 in this horrid place. I wasn't even sure why I was keeping track, other than to try to retain some handle on my sanity as the nights passed.
We slept until the mid-morning, the frequent breeze and shade of the trees around the oasis making the temperature bearable, for now. I wondered how miserable it would get by the afternoon, though. These trees just didn't provide nearly as much cover as the forest on the other side of the Arena.
It was still preferable to traipsing about the open sand during the day, at least.
A few of the Careers rinsed off on the far side of the oasis before lunch, Ben and I doing the same (though, due to some strange sense of lingering pride, I continued to do so fully clothed). We had accumulated a coating of sweat, dirt, and sand during our miserable trek the previous day. The oasis was a decent size and the water appeared to be draining and replenishing itself, but all of us were seemingly well past the point of caring whether we were technically bathing in the same body of water we were pulling our drinking water from. We didn't have luxuries at this point.
Regardless, the first Arena was now almost over. The Careers' tension and anticipation were thick in the air. They were antsy to get a move on, to find some other tributes so we could be out of this miserably hot environment. I shared the sentiment of wanting this Arena to end, albeit to an extent…I was fully anticipating the next Arena would be worse.
But I had no desire to hunt down other tributes to accomplish that. Unfortunately, I didn't get a vote.
The Careers were eager to kill. We hadn't come across anyone besides the injured girl from 8 since the hunt a few nights ago. Their bloodlust hadn't been tempered, I realized, watching Lambent and Caspian with disgust as they were bragging about their bloodbath kills again.
I grit my teeth, looking back down at my bag as I reorganized my supplies to make sure I had everything I needed. I truly didn't understand how they could be like this. Heartless and insufferable. Lacking in humanity. Obviously, there were varying degrees of tolerability among them—Azure, in particular, seemed to be less arrogant and violent than the others.
I had approached her this morning, outside of the others' earshot, thanking her briefly (and somewhat awkwardly) for calling Caspian out the night before.
"Watch your back. Things are only going to get worse when he's focused on you like this," she had said, mostly brushing off my thanks, her words hanging in the air ominously.
I wondered if Azure had experienced this personally. If she had known Caspian back home. If so, I didn't envy her.
But despite the fact that not all of the Careers were as outwardly obnoxious as Lambent and Caspian or as cold and unforgiving as Cato, I knew they were all capable of killing without hesitation.
It was one thing to kill in here because you had to. That decision hadn't been forced on me yet, but objectively, I knew we all wanted to survive. To make it home.
But killing for glory? To prove your superiority over others? Or just for the fun of it, apparently, from the way Caspian and Lambent behaved? I couldn't fathom it.
And they'd been trained for this. This was their entire purpose in life, from a young age. Even hearing them talk about home—like Bastion and Cato that night while they kept watch—made it clear that competing in the brutal, horrid Games was always their number one priority since they could remember. It was all they knew.
I felt an odd twinge. Brief, and fleeting, but it was there. It was unpleasant, and I couldn't quite place the emotion…but it was something suspiciously close to pity, and I immediately brushed it aside. No. I couldn't have any empathy for these monsters. They came from lives of wealth, luxury, and comfort. They were born and bred killers. Their lives were a stark contrast to mine, being the privileged favorites of the Capitol.
Even if they were brainwashed from a young age, even if this path may have been chosen for them when they were children, I refused to humanize them. I couldn't. Not with the way they treated others, the joy they took in killing. Whatever they'd been before, they were Careers now.
And they wouldn't hesitate to kill me when the time came.
…
It was time to come up with a game plan. Again.
We'd replenished our water supply, and we obviously knew where to find more. The temperature was actually barely tolerable here, thanks to the oasis, but the Careers didn't want to just sit around and wait.
On the one hand, the grassy path had led us here. It was possible that others would find it, and head this way. This could be a perfect place to ambush other tributes.
But the Careers, like me, had noted that the path continued towards the mountains. And they wanted to investigate.
So, a decision needed to be made; did we split up, leaving a couple people here in case other tributes showed up? Or did all of us continue our trek towards the cliffs, knowing full well we could head back this way if we were running short on water?
We (well, they) decided on the latter. Bastion—master of rigging traps—set up a few around the oasis with Cato's help. That way, if someone did show up after we left, and our search was unsuccessful, we may find an incapacitated tribute on our return. It seemed likely that any non-Careers finding this oasis might just decide to stay here. Most people didn't want to rove around the Arena to find more tributes to kill.
The Careers were hoping we wouldn't need to return, though. That our search in the eastern part of the Arena would be more fruitful. If we didn't have any luck in the next day or two, though, we'd have to head back. None of us wanted to deal with rationing water. Tempers (in certain cases) were frayed enough as-is.
For once, though, they didn't want to wait until nightfall. Even with the flashlights and pair of night vision goggles, the landscape in the distance looked incredibly difficult to traverse. Especially in darkness. We weren't sure what to expect once the grassy path wound out of sight. And because we were so close to the very edge of the dunes, we didn't necessarily have to wait until it was fully dark to finish crossing the oppressively hot desert.
It wouldn't be pleasant leaving the shelter of the oasis while the sun was still up…but navigating the changing landscape at night wasn't an appealing concept, either. And nobody knew how far the Arena extended. The Careers were hoping the path continued through the cliffs, that we'd be able to flush other tributes out like rats.
I wasn't so sure.
But, as soon as evening arrived and the air began to cool slightly, we set off again.
Everyone still had extra garments wrapped around our shoulders and faces, now protecting from the sun just as much as the blowing sand.
But this time, our journey through the remainder of the desert was much easier. The path climbed gradually out of the small valley and onwards, but it was only a short distance until the sand ended and was replaced by rockier, barren ground. I glanced around, noting the changes.
The jagged cliffs still protruded into the sky in the distance, lurking ominously, ever-closer. It definitely didn't rain often in this part of the Arena, I could immediately tell. The ground was cracked and dusty, and we had to watch where we were walking. Sporadically, scraggly bushes or tufts of vegetation fought through the barren earth or sprung up around the rocks strewn about, but for the most part, the grassy path we followed was the only consistent vegetation here.
The further east we went, the more the landscape changed, morphing from the dry, packed dirt into hills and slopes I'd noted before, growing even rockier. Our progress slowed noticeably as we treaded carefully. Occasionally someone would slip, stones skittering and sliding down the slope behind us. The path continued forward. It forced us to wind and skirt around rock formations and outcrops as we continued up and over the hills.
Those formations were growing larger and larger, often hindering our view of what lie ahead down the winding path. This could be an easy place for an ambush. In an odd way, I was glad our group was so big.
And the path ahead was getting steeper, too; the shadow of the sheer cliffs loomed in front of us, and we'd only been traveling for a couple of hours. Our progress was slow, especially uphill, but we might still reach the base of the cliffs before dusk.
At least it was easier than scaling the sand dunes, I thought, wiping accumulating sweat off of my brow.
We continued to traverse the hills, gradually climbing higher, the trek already tiring me out and reminding me how sore my muscles were. The cliffs began to dwarf the horizon ahead even more noticeably as we approached. Oppressive. Foreboding.
And apparently, they were part of the Arena. We hadn't been forced to turn back yet. We hadn't reached the edge.
We didn't stop for a break after leaving the oasis until we crested a particularly rocky ridge, the ground leveling out in front of us. It was nearly dark, but squinting into the dimming light, I could see what lie ahead.
We had reached the base of the steep cliffs, the jutting shapes extending in each direction. They sat in our way, tall and intimidating, impeding our progress entirely.
Or…maybe not entirely.
The grassy path continued forward, towards the cliffs in front of us…leading directly to a narrow pass between two of them. The pass was maybe fifteen feet wide, and wound onward until curving out of sight, sheer walls of stone pressing in on it on either side. It was a passage, clearly engineered as a way through, cutting straight into the heart of the rocky cliffs.
I didn't like it. I felt claustrophobic just looking at it. I felt is if the rock could squeeze inward at any moment, crushing anyone caught in the narrow gap winding through. Being trapped within a mountain of stone would be a horrible way to go. I knew it wasn't a reasonable line of thinking; the Gamemakers put this here for a reason. If there was a trap, it probably lie further ahead, and wasn't the pass itself.
But I still hated the thought of going that way. It felt like the Gamemakers could throw something at us and we wouldn't have many ways out.
Most of the Careers didn't share my paranoid line of thinking, however. We moved forward, hesitating just in front of the pass, a few of the others taking a moment to do a survey of the area.
To them, the pass through the cliffs was a likely way to find more tributes. Whether it led to another water source, or others trying to hide and stay out of sight, they wanted to proceed.
I supposed the Gamemakers couldn't risk killing all eight of us at once. They had to be careful with their interference, here, so close to the end of the first of Arena. Maybe the Careers were right, and this was just a means to an end.
I still didn't like it.
However, darkness was arriving now, growing thick in the air. It was difficult to see; the crevasse between the cliffs in front of us was thrown almost entirely into blackness, the rocky walls blocking out most of the light that the stars above could provide. And there were fewer stars tonight; whether on purpose or not, it didn't matter. The thought of travelling through the mountain pass with only our flashlights to guide us was horrifying to me.
The sky lit up just as the Careers began to debate their next move, the recap for the night beginning and the anthem blaring obnoxiously from all sides. No deaths again today. As horrible as it was, my stomach sank as I realized that we had now gone two full days without a death. The Gamemakers and the Capitol would be out for blood. It was still early enough in the Games that they'd want a quicker pace than what was currently happening.
The recap ended, and the Careers' debate resumed. To press onward, or make camp for the night, despite how early it was?
I had no desire to continue into the pass. If there was something ahead, or other tributes…well there were just too many unknowns. We didn't know where this led, or how far it went, or what dangers could present themselves.
Surely traversing this at night was too reckless, even for them?
Apparently not. At least, not when there were only three more deaths needed in this Arena. They didn't want to waste any time when they potentially had the chance to catch tributes by surprise. The recap—or lack thereof, really—urged them onward. Any hesitation from earlier about navigating the part of this Arena at night had been diminished when we discovered a clear way through the cliffs.
So onward we went, into the passageway (the abyss, as far as I was concerned). Cato and Caspian were near the front, Cato using his flashlight and Caspian his night-vision goggles to see the path ahead, while Bastion and Chiffon brought up the rear, checking behind us for threats frequently.
I stuck closer to Ben's side than was probably strictly necessary. My claustrophobia had been immediately triggered as soon as the cliffs surrounded us, my pulse pounding faster than normal. I glanced up, seeing the sliver of scattered stars high above, in the narrow gap between the tops of the cliffs adjacent to us.
At least it wasn't a tunnel, I realized. That would certainly be worse. Stone on all sides and above? It would feel like we were being buried alive.
It was crazy how I went to feeling anxious and exposed in the open desert, to feeling all-too-constrained here in the narrow pathway through the cliffs.
I missed the trees.
Talking was at a minimum as we moved. Maybe my paranoia was infectious, spreading to the other Careers…or maybe they were just smart enough to know that our voices would echo here. The flashlights of some of the others bounced ahead and around us, illuminating the sheer rock faces. Even Caspian was uncharacteristically somber as he scouted ahead with the goggles at his disposal.
Our footsteps were too loud. It felt like any sound we made was too loud. These cliffs blocked a lot of the wind, but I could still occasionally hear it whistling faintly. All other noise was caused by our progress, and seemed unnatural in the quiet of the passageway. It continued to wind back and forth, and hadn't widened in the slightest.
I wasn't sure if the Gamemakers could move mountains, but I still felt like I could be crushed in an instant at their whim. I was sweating again, for an altogether different reason now. My palm felt clammy on my axe. I was gripping it so tightly that my hand ached.
We had been traveling through the pass for maybe an hour—although to me, it felt like an eternity—when we came across something that made the Careers pause.
A fork in the pass. The path we'd been following continued straight ahead, but there was a new branch that split off, curving to the left and out of sight. The left fork seemed narrower, but only marginally.
I glanced down at my feet. This pathway had been previously marked by grass, but the grass had ceased shortly after we began our trek into the passage between the cliffs. There was no way to tell which fork was the correct one to take (if any).
Either we'd have to take a guess at which was the correct way to go…or we'd have to split up.
Even more foreboding washed over me as the others began to discuss. It was bad enough walking through these mountains of rock at night, but splitting up, too? That would just add a new layer of recklessness to this adventure. At every turn, I expected us to run into something dangerous.
How far were the Careers willing to go to explore these cliffs?
To my profound relief, the others decided to stop for the night (Chiffon and Azure being the primary voices of reason). They realized the riskiness of splitting up when we had no clue what lay ahead and were extremely reliant on our light sources to progress. We'd be easiest to ambush at night, in smaller groups, in unfamiliar terrain.
Although my relief was partially squashed when the Careers also decided that at first light, we would be splitting up to explore each pathway.
That was the better way to maximize their chances of finding more tributes, they reasoned.
I knew they had a point, but I still hated all of this.
We began setting up camp at the fork—thankfully we weren't risking a campfire—and I grumpily unrolled my sleeping bag next to Ben's.
Low muttering and whispers echoed in the air as we settled in, and I found myself shivering slightly. It was cooler between these giant sheets of rock. I snuggled deeper in my sleeping bag, twirling my mother's ring around my finger, eyes darting every which direction. It was still early compared to the other nights, and any exhaustion from my physical exertion was significantly outweighed by my anxiety caused by where we were sleeping.
"I don't like it either," Ben whispered from next to me. He couldn't sleep, either. It was unfortunate, because the two of us had the second watch tonight. "It's just so…" he trailed off, looking for the words.
"Enclosed. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm not sure which I hate more. The open desert or this," I whispered back.
And, unsurprisingly, I found myself tossing and turning, unable to get any restful sleep before Bastion woke us up for our turn to guard the sleeping Careers.
…
Our watch was uneventful again—for which I was grateful—but for how uneventful it was, it was still an incredibly stressful experience for me. The night was too quiet, too still, the cliff walls around us too oppressive. We had to make sure nothing was coming from either of the forked pathways or the direction we'd ventured from. It was hard to see in the darkness, and the flashlights only illuminated small areas.
I had been taut and tense with nerves and anticipation all night. I kept expecting to see the cliffs moving around us, pressing in. Or to look above and find a Capitol mutt crawling on the rocky wall, teeth bared. Or even to point the flashlight behind me, only to discover some other horror created by the Gamemakers.
But none of that happened, despite my constant anxiety, rapid heartbeat and the adrenaline pumping through me at the prospect of danger. The claustrophobia was relentless, to say the least, and Ben's whispered attempts to distract me did little to help.
So, I found myself worn out and hollow in the morning, fatigued from a combination of stress, barely getting any sleep, and soreness from the arduous walks the previous days.
Today would be miserable, I could tell.
And, after we ate a quick breakfast as the sky was beginning to lighten and packed up our things again, my premonition was already coming true. Because now we had to decide who was going down which pathway, and how to split up the two groups.
It became immediately apparent that the Career egos would be clashing again.
"The path on the right is slightly bigger," Chiffon was saying, pointing in that direction.
"Then that's probably where we're supposed to go," Caspian responded, a small smirk forming on his face. "I'll head that way. It's been a while since I got a kill." He was examining his trident, as if disturbed by the lack of blood on it.
"If someone wanted to stay hidden, they might have gone left," Bastion said. "It's more subtle." He glanced at Cato, who had an indecipherable expression on his face.
"It's possible," was all he said in response.
Lambent scoffed. "They take all the fun out of it when they hide."
I fought back a scowl at his words.
"Then what do you say, 1?" Caspian responded. "We head right? First one to spot the tribute gets the kill?" His eyes glimmered with excitement.
Lambent rolled his shoulders, anticipation coming off of him in waves. "Sounds fair to me." He turned to Azure. "You in?"
The girl from 4 wore a stony expression, not looking particularly pleased to be going along with Caspian. She gave a noncommittal shrug. "Fine."
Caspian's smirk widened. "Well, I'd love my partner to tag along…" he said, tossing Ben a knowing look, "but June, you're more than welcome."
"I don't think so," Cato said coldly.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Caspian responded as if Cato hadn't spoken, a bright grin appearing on his face. Despite his smile, he was obviously trying to get under my (and Cato's) skin again, and the air was already thickening with tension.
"I don't need your help," I snapped before Cato could say anything, annoyed despite the fact that I knew I shouldn't let him get to me.
"I'd rather go with June," Ben added firmly.
"What a surprise," Caspian responded sarcastically, eyes glimmering. "In that case, what about you, Chiffon?"
"I'm sticking with Bastion." Chiffon responded, her annoyance clear as day. "Why would any of us separate from our Arena partners, especially when we don't know how long we'll be splitting up?"
"Blame the two from 7. They're attached at the hip," Lambent said mockingly. "It's adorable, really."
"As adorable as it is, Chiffon has a point," Bastion intervened, voice amiable. "We should stick with our Arena partners as much as possible." His dark eyes shifted to me and Ben and he added, "even though I know you don't want to be separated."
"I just don't know if that's a good idea," Ben said hesitantly, eyes finding mine. Inwardly, I agreed with him. The prospect of splitting into a different group was not remotely appealing. Yet I could feel the eyes of all of the others on us, and knew they were thinking our attachment made us weaker. To them, it was a vulnerability.
And this was a test. To see what would happen if a situation arose where we were asked to split up.
"And why is that, exactly?" Cato had snapped in response to Ben.
"Are you worried that 2 will kill her if you're not around?" Caspian interjected, directing the question at Ben.
"I didn't say that!" Ben protested, clearly wanting to avoid antagonizing Cato.
As much as I hated Caspian, he was probably right. Ben was paranoid about what would happen if he weren't there to have my back. But I knew if Cato wanted to kill me during this Arena, he would have already. We'd been alone on multiple occasions. We'd argued, but his reason had won out over his anger.
"I bet you were thinking it," the boy from 4 added, smirk still ever-present. "I think it's a fair concern. We all know 2 has a bit of a temper." There was note of condescension in his voice.
"Nobody asked your opinion," Cato snapped. He had stepped forward slightly, his stance becoming something more menacing. I felt a familiar twinge of unease.
"He's not wrong, though," Lambent cut in, a glint in his eyes. "A bit on edge, aren't you?"
Cato's icy gaze was now focused on the boy from 1. Lambent shifted position slightly, meeting his eyes without hesitation. The tension began to climb thickly in the air again, always hovering under the surface, at least during the past few days. Waiting to erupt at any moment. The clash of egos, the differing opinions and approaches, were threatening to splinter the group apart from within.
The last thing we needed was some sort of altercation breaking out, I realized nervously, glancing between the Careers. Too many arrogant people in one place. Caspian was clearly getting under Cato's skin yet again, and it looked like Lambent would back the boy from 4 up if it came to it—at this rate, they'd all start trying to kill each other before we could find any other tributes.
Bastion must have had the same thought.
"We're wasting time," Bastion said firmly before Cato could speak again (which would have been unpleasant, judging by the dark expression on his face). He stepped forward, almost between Cato and Lambent, drawing their attention. The intent behind his movement was clear. "And this argument is going nowhere."
A lopsided, cocky smile appeared on Lambent's features and I heard Chiffon mutter an agreement, something to the effect of "men arguing over the stupidest things."
"Then let's go," Cato snapped, gesturing toward the fork on the right. He was still visibly annoyed, irritation radiating off of him in waves. Ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Waiting for an excuse for violence.
But Bastion looked unperturbed, nodding. "Yes. Let's."
Ben was still hesitating, looking like he wanted to protest again.
But I wasn't going to let him. The last thing he needed was to be on Cato's radar. And I was realizing that his protests—in front of the entire group of Careers—were hurting more than helping. He was only proving to the Careers how much he wanted to protect me.
That could cause issues in subsequent Arenas. They could try to exploit it, which would be good for neither of us. Careers were ready to forego loyalty to their district partner when it came to winning. Even Cato and Bastion would have to turn on each other eventually, and I was sure they had accepted that fact (as ridiculous as that thought was to me, seeing as how they'd known each other since childhood).
If Ben was unwilling to leave my side, they'd assume that I was his weakness. That he was mine. And maybe that was true to an extent—maybe it was obvious to them even before now—but why draw more attention to it than necessary? Why give them the tools they could use to hurt us later?
"Ben," I cut in, voice firm. "It's fine. Let's just split up for now."
He glanced at me, clearly wanting to still argue, and I hoped my expression conveyed my thoughts well enough that he'd know to keep silent. To not protest further.
We couldn't look co-dependent and weak. That would cause more problems down the line. And I wasn't about to make life difficult for Ben because of his self-imposed duty to protect me. I had to take care of myself if I wanted to survive in here.
Sure, I wasn't exactly safe with Cato, Bastion, and Chiffon, but I didn't think they'd try to kill me. Lambent and Caspian were probably the two biggest threats to me right now, and they wouldn't be going with my group.
Cato had plenty of opportunities to kill me already and hadn't taken them. It was clear he was waiting until the rule wasn't in place. I didn't think Bastion would do anything to betray his fellow District 2 tribute this early on (at least based on their personal history). And Chiffon would probably follow the others' lead.
I hated splitting off from Ben—hell, it terrified me, if I were being honest—but here, I didn't think we had any choice.
And…if I were being truly honest with myself…a small part of me knew that this would happen eventually. We couldn't be together at all times. Only one of us could get out of here alive. I had to be able to function without Ben's protection. I had done it for the first few days of the Arena.
I could do it again.
Plus…the bottom line was, I didn't really have a choice here. Neither did he.
Ben finally nodded wordlessly, after a few tense seconds.
"About fucking time," Cato said, frustration evident in every line of his posture, in his clenched jaw.
"So, should we just meet back here?" Chiffon said, as the other group began to walk down the narrow pathway that continued straight on. "Be back by dark?"
"And if we don't find anything by then? We don't know how far these paths lead," Caspian responded, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, unless there's a water source further in, we'll have to head back to the oasis," Azure pointed out coolly.
"Then let's say that if one group heads back here, and there's no sign of the other group by tomorrow morning, then they can just head back and wait at the oasis," Bastion stated. "No sense in waiting around here too long."
It wasn't a bad plan. If we ended up empty-handed, the Arena would still be dragging on, and we'd need to re-fill our containers of water again. The oasis was an easy, convenient landmark, traceable by the grassy pathway we'd followed here. The trip back would be mostly downhill, and the going should be even quicker.
Minds made up, Cato and Bastion set off down the left pathway, Chiffon following suit.
For a brief moment, Ben and I made eye contact, green meeting hazel, a wordless exchange passing between us.
Be safe.
Don't do anything reckless.
Watch your back.
And then we were turning away from each other, following the retreating backs of our respective partners, praying we would see each other again soon.
Because the alternative was a terrifying thought.
…
I didn't think I could feel any more claustrophobic than I had the night before while keeping watch, worried that the sheer cliff walls would close in on us and crush us in our sleep.
I was wrong.
Because after another hour of following this passageway between the cliffs, it narrowed even further.
My heartrate skyrocketed again as I scanned our surroundings nervously. The pass was still winding this way and that, but I wasn't imagining it this time; the walls were closing in, in the sense that the space between them was shrinking.
The Careers grumbled, but I kept my thoughts to myself, not trusting myself to speak. I kept close to them, though, despite being at the back of the group. We had to walk in single file line now, but the last thing I wanted was to fall behind. As I glanced from side to side in discomfort, I realized Cato was lucky he wasn't claustrophobic (or at least didn't seem to be; he looked unbothered). At his size, he couldn't even stretch his arms out anymore. The stone passageway encircled us, the walls themselves drawing so close that he maybe only had a foot of room on each side. I had a little more at my size, but I felt trapped. Like a caged animal. I was just waiting for the Gamemakers to drop something nasty on our heads.
I tried to control my breathing. In, out. In, out. Minutes passed, and the breathing exercise helped, but I didn't get a respite; the passage remained narrow. I hadn't realized how much room we'd had before until now. I hadn't realized my sense of being pinned down could get this much worse.
Yet the others seemed unaffected.
At one point, the passage narrowed further to where I almost thought we wouldn't be able to get through. The boys—being the largest tributes of the group—had to turn to the side, skirting by the rocky edges jutting inward, impeding our path. My palms were damp and my heart was threatening to erupt in my chest as I skirted through after them, almost positive the rock was going to brush against my shoulders on either side. That it was going to snag me in a vice grip.
That portion of the pass was mercifully short, and soon the boys could face the front again, but the rocky walls still lingered too close for comfort.
I decided that as miserable as my trek was the first two days of the Arena, I preferred the dense undergrowth, thorny plants, heat, and insects to this. This stone, and silence, and containment.
We were maybe two hours total from the forking path when we heard a very welcome sound in the distance: the faint roar of a waterfall. Our pace immediately sped up as excitement washed over the Careers, and even I was able to focus on the sound of the gurgling water instead of my extreme discomfort.
And just a few minutes later—finally, to my profound relief—the walls widened again.
In fact, they didn't just widen: as we strode forward, I realized the walls opened up into a more open area. A canyon, only slightly bigger than the valley with the oasis that we'd found, but surrounded by rocky cliffs on all sides. The walls were still steep, stretching up and over us, but more of the sky was visible here.
I breathed out a sigh, forcing my heart to relax, ignoring the feeling of Cato's eyes on me (judgmental, I was sure). I was still surrounded by rock walls, but it was more open now. A clearing, in a manner of speaking. Here, I could function better. I didn't feel like I was about to be crushed at any second.
But my eyes were almost immediately caught by something Cato and the others had already spotted—the cause of the sound. A narrow waterfall, plunging straight down into a relatively small but fast-moving creek that wound across the middle of the gorge. The source of the waterfall appeared to be a small crevasse, located partway up a cliff on the left side…though it wasn't wide enough to fit through, and it would be a climb to even get up there. We certainly wouldn't be following the water upstream.
But the opposite side of the canyon was an entirely different story.
The rushing creek appeared to head straight into a cave, just a short distance away from where we were standing. The opening to the cave wasn't particularly hidden—all four of us could easily walk into it side by side.
Bastion exclaimed in anticipation, seeing a potential location for hidden tributes. The Careers immediately made their way in that direction, me following a short distance behind, trying not to drag my feet.
And as we approached the entrance, the Careers' interest immediately grew (while my sense of dread increased). Because several feet away from the river, located close to the mouth of the cave, sat the remains of a campfire. Cold and dead, so not used recently, but clear evidence that someone had been here.
It made sense. This would certainly be an idyllic place for someone to hide. A hidden ravine with a cave and a water source? That would be a dream, during the Games.
However, it was a dream that could quickly turn into a nightmare.
And, as we entered the mouth of the cave and I blinked quickly to try to adjust to the dim lighting, I realized that "nightmare" was a more apt description here.
The first thing I noticed, even before my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the cave, was the stench.
It was disgusting, nauseating. The stench of death and decay. I reflexively pulled my sleeve down and pressed it to my nose, trying to breathe through my mouth. I heard Chiffon make a noise of distaste, mirroring my actions.
The second thing I noticed was the body of the gigantic reptile, lying just a short distance into the cave. Another of the Gamemakers' creations.
It was monstrous; not quite as big as the scorpion, but far bigger than any reptile I'd ever seen. Lizard-like in nature, though the Gamemakers had clearly taken liberties. The creature was four-legged and sharp-clawed, covered in scales in varying shades of green, long tail stretched out and limp against the dirt of the cave floor. It lay on its side, mouth open, revealing rows of long, glistening teeth. There also appeared to be some sort of strange flaps around its neck, speckled with colors even brighter than its scales. Venomous, probably.
Cato and Bastion—obviously impacted by the smell of the dead creature, as well, but choosing to ignore it in favor of investigation—had made their way slightly closer. What had killed the lizard mutt was evident even from here, though. Some sort of bladed weapon had sliced its underbelly nearly all the way from head to tail. Some of its intestines had spilled out, and there was dried green blood pooled on the ground below the dead creature.
Feeling my stomach roil I averted my eyes, quickly scanning the rest of the cave—the river reached the back wall, creating a small pool there, which was likely drained somewhere out of sight. I then realized with a jolt that the lizard I'd seen wasn't the only dead mutt. There was another lizard, on the far side of the creek, near the very back of the cave (which was smaller than I'd expected, given the size of the entrance). Its back was to us, but it was equally still and unmoving. Probably also contributing to this horrific smell.
Bastion whistled. "Damn. This must have been quite a fight."
He had a point. As I continued to skim the area from a safe distance away, I could see there were a couple other splatters of the mutts' blood further in. The ground on either side of the water was slightly muddy, and looked trampled. Near the lizard were deep gouges in the dirt, as if it had raked it with its sharp claws.
Cato had made his way further in and crouched right next to the water, examining something. "There were multiple tributes staying in here," he pointed out after a moment.
"How do you know?" Chiffon asked, voice muffled. She had stayed very close to the entrance, like me, clearly unwilling to venture into the foul scene.
"Different sizes of boot prints." The boy stood up, making his way towards the second lizard's body.
"A tribute pair, probably," Bastion responded thoughtfully. He reached out a foot and gently prodded the carcass of the mutt closer to the entrance. "They obviously had weapons. Lucky for them. These mutts look tough." He crouched down a few feet away, examining the creature from as close as he dared to get. I kept my eyes averted, the sight of its insides leaking out of its body making my stomach clench.
"You shouldn't get too close," Chiffon said through her sleeve. I inwardly agreed. What if it had some sort of toxic substance on its skin, or what if its blood was still dangerous? The green color was jarring. The brighter something was, the more dangerous it usually was, from what I'd learned.
"Impressive, really," Bastion added, shrugging her comment off but standing up again and moving away from the corpse. A look of distaste briefly contorted his features; the smell must be even worse where he stood. "I wonder which tributes pulled it off?"
"Someone might have paid for it," Cato said from across the cave. He was standing over the other lizard's body. "This one has a lot of blood on its teeth and claws, and there's more on the ground and near the water."
Of course, there was no way to know if a tribute had died in this battle, if one of the cannons we'd heard before had been because of this fight. The body would have been retrieved by the Capitol. I was almost surprised they left the bodies of the lizard mutts here, before I realized they were probably meant to be a warning to anyone who found them. Don't linger in this cave. Don't waste time.
"How did they kill that one?" Bastion asked.
"Looks like they stabbed it in the eye and throat."
"How long ago do you think this happened?" I asked cautiously, remembering how cold and dead the campfire had been outside.
"A few days, maybe."
"So, any survivors are long gone," Bastion sighed, sounding disappointed. "That's too bad. Could be a fun fight, since they clearly know how to use weapons."
Of course he would think of it like that, I thought, still breathing through my mouth as much as I could, only a few feet into the cave. And not like the obvious tragedy it is. Because it was obvious, wasn't it? Tributes had probably settled here early on, gotten complacent, and then the Gamemakers sent the lizards after them.
"I don't see any weapons or supplies we can retrieve. Let's go," Cato said then, after the boys from 2 spent another moment or two examining the area, checking for evidence the tributes could have left behind. Chiffon and I steadfastly refused to venture further in, not that they needed our help when the cave wasn't very large. "Fucking stinks in here."
Nobody argued with that, and we turned and exited without another word, leaving the grisly scene in the cave behind.
We stopped and refilled our water supplies in the rushing creek. The Careers were disappointed, I could tell. They had gotten here too late for any excitement.
They spent some time surveying the area, examining the canyon for any evidence of other tributes or escape paths, but there didn't appear to be another way out. Unless someone wanted to climb. It theoretically might be possible in some areas, but looked difficult. Climbing would probably be a last resort. So, if they weren't in the cave, there was nobody hiding here. And the only other way to go was back to the fork in the path.
We had set off very early this morning, so it was still a couple of hours before noon. Deferring eating a snack until we'd reached out starting point again, we set off.
My discomfort and claustrophobia immediately returned as we exited the canyon, making our way into the small passage through the cliffs again. I focused on my breathing once more, trying to slow my heartbeat. Trying to assure myself that it was all in my head, and that I was only looking weak for the cameras if I had a total breakdown in here.
It worked a little, but my pulse was still pounding uncomfortably fast as we wound through the narrow pass, scraping by the point again where Cato and Bastion had to turn to the side to squeeze through. I really hoped we wouldn't have to stay in here long.
But I grit my teeth and dealt with it, ignoring the fact that my fear was probably very evident to the others.
We were nearly back to the fork when a noise echoed in the distance.
A quiet rumble, at first—barely discernible, almost sounding like faint thunder. Somewhere ahead of us. But it didn't ebb away like thunder. Instead, the rumbling rapidly grew louder and louder, until it filled the air, and I could have sworn I felt the ground tremble slightly beneath us.
"What the…" Bastion said as we froze, glancing around us and then squinting ahead, as if we could locate the source of the cacophony. Yet it was futile, because these massive, towering walls of rock prevented us from really seeing anything at all. My heartbeat had increased tenfold, and I was holding my axe as if I could fight off the sounds. The others were doing the same, even though the enemy was unknown. I was ready to turn and sprint away from the first sign of danger.
The rumbling noise increased in volume even further. It sounded as if the earth itself was moving, shifting. Like rock was crashing against rock, or the cliffs were collapsing in upon themselves…
And then it hit me, perhaps a bit belatedly.
Rockslide.
It had to be—nothing else could be so loud and sudden, carrying through the air. It sounded like one of the rocky cliffs was crumbling, the rocks and debris crashing down to the ground with a roar. The ground was trembling faintly. The four of us began to back up nervously, glancing up at the jutting walls on either side of us, wanting to see if we were going to get caught up in it. If rocks were going to hurtle over the edge, or if the cliffs themselves were going to collapse on our heads.
But it wasn't close by, I realized, even as all of us were prepared to run. The cliffs around us were silent and still. No signs of movement whatsoever. The disaster was ahead of us…further down the pass. The timing couldn't be coincidental.
Nothing was ever coincidental in the Games.
And then I felt foreboding wash over me again, as a paranoid thought entered my head…what if the Gamemakers had cut off our way out?
We were still tentatively taking steps backwards, ready to turn and sprint if necessary, but it appeared we weren't going to be swept up in the danger.
The rumbling sound began to quiet. The sounds of the rocky avalanche were ebbing away almost reluctantly, the subtle trembling in the ground easing, until—with one last, mighty crash—everything became still, less than a minute after it had started. Almost as if it had never even happened.
It felt unnaturally silent after the sounds of the rockslide ceased. None of us moved, for a moment. My heart was slamming into my ribcage, over and over, adrenaline pumping through my veins. My axe was in a death grip, even though it would be useless in a situation like this.
Yet nobody spoke, waiting, as if we expected another one to start at any moment. It was hard to know what to do, where to run, when we didn't have a vantage point. The rockslide had sounded like it came from ahead. With how loud the echoes of the collapsing earth and falling rocks had been, it had to be close. We had felt its impact through the ground.
And that was the worrying part…because we were almost back at the fork. And I couldn't help but expect the worst.
There had been no cannons, though. So at least that told us that the other members of our alliance hadn't been caught and killed in it.
"What now?" Chiffon broke the silence. "That didn't sound far."
I had a feeling she was following my paranoid line of thinking.
"There could be more rockslides coming," I spoke up, eyeing the cliffs around us nervously.
"Then we shouldn't wait around," Cato responded shortly, and even he sounded on edge.
"This path dead ends in the canyon. Our only way out is forward," Bastion said, a small frown on his normally relaxed expression.
"And if our way out is blocked?" I finally voiced the thought, because surely the others were considering it, yet nobody was wanting to say it out loud.
"Then we'll deal with it," Cato snapped back, though I suspected his annoyance was primarily due to the fact that I had echoed what he was thinking.
The Careers only indulged a brief waiting period before setting off again towards the fork in the pass. It was true that more rockslides could be triggered at any moment (on top of our heads, even), but sitting and waiting wasn't appealing, either. We needed to see what we were up against. We needed to know if we were going to be trapped here, forced back into the canyon, separated from the rest of our alliance until the first Arena ended.
We got our answer shortly afterward.
The area where the narrow pass branched into two paths was not blocked, at least not entirely. The edge of the rockslide had just clipped it, so there were piles of rocks, dirt, and debris covering part of the passageway and making navigation tricky. The worst part had to be the dust that resulted from the collapse—it hung thick around us, curling high into the air, forcing me to put my sleeve over my mouth again and nearly obscuring my vision entirely. My eyes watered as I tried to squint through the aftermath of the event.
But we could squeeze by the edge of it, make our way back to the original pass, and escape the cliffs whenever we wanted.
That was the good news.
The bad news was that, while our way out was more or less clear, the other path—the one Ben and the others had followed—was blocked.
Something in my stomach clenched, and the momentary relief faded way. I blinked through the dust, heart sinking.
The rubble and remnants of the avalanche of falling rock filled that other passageway entirely, piled high. The heaps of wreckage appeared tall and insurmountable, even more so the further down I looked. Clearly, the origin of the rockslide had occurred somewhere along that path, and the effects had rippled out to our current location.
There was no way we could pass it. There was no way we could excavate the debris. Even here, at the very outer edge of the disaster area, the ground was littered and stacked with rocks and fragments. And even if we cleared the area by the fork, this was the least of it. I could take one look at the massive pile of rubble blocking the other passageway and know there was no chance we'd be able to get through. Who knew how far down it went? Who knew how big of an area the rockslide had affected?
I could only be grateful that Ben wasn't caught in it, and hope against hope that he hadn't been somehow injured or trapped by the falling rocks and debris. The pathway the others took may have taken them far from here.
I wondered how long it would take before they realized they couldn't get back through.
As we stared through the lingering dust, Cato shoving a rock out of the way with his foot and Bastion examining the pile of rubble blocking the other passage, the intent behind all of this was obvious.
The rockslide wasn't meant to catch us, or kill us.
It was meant to separate us.
…
A/N: Lots of misdirects in this chapter. Wanted to keep you on your toes and build some anticipation ;)
Also, I NEED YOUR OPINIONS! I have thought about separating this book into two: the second book would start as soon as the first Arena is over. The second book would include the second and third Arenas, and any aftermath if June survives. It wouldn't cause any delays; I would just go straight from the end of the first Arena into the second book, which would take place immediately afterward. The only real advantage of doing this is avoiding Endure being 450k-500k words. That seems daunting in terms of drawing new readers.
But if you guys don't care, I'll keep all three Arenas in Endure. Like I said, separating them wouldn't cause any sort of update delays or anything like that. If you have an opinion, please leave it in the comments or PM it to me!
Thanks for all the additional reviews and kudos!
I suspect the next chapter will be a behemoth and will be pretty intense, so get ready! I am going out of town for a couple days so it'll probably be about 1.5 weeks before it's ready.