I literally don't know what time it is here; I'm at a research center until midnight, but they won't let me check the time. Something about my pain levels being more accurate since I don't know when I'm leaving. We'll see how much I get written in my 18 hour stay.
I've been going back and forth between ItD and Ladies First. That might premier tomorrow. Or Wednesday. Hopefully this week. Three more chapters or so of ItD. I'll let you know when to expect it.
Smooth, Zag. Smooth.
Thanks to Adventuress, Wolfie and Roses for the reviews.
Remember to read Day 13 (2) before reading Day Fourteen. Spoilers ahead (obviously).
Day Fourteen!
Aran Quade, Age 17, District 6
District Six Male, Sixth Quarter Quell
I'm being followed. I'm not sure who it is, or even what it is, but I've felt its presence since my breakdown at the river yesterday. If it's a tribute, it's probably not Cassia or Mera; they wouldn't bother trying to be quiet. In fact, they'd have likely attacked by now.
Which means it's either one of the outlier tributes, or some mutt stalking me for the Gamemakers' amusement.
I've been trekking through the Arena all morning, wandering without direction. I've only heard my stalker; snapping branches and the stomping of feet into the mud. I haven't gotten a visual yet, though I don't necessarily need one.
I allow myself to take a seat against a mangrove, facing the direction I last heard my pursuer. Bow resting in my lap, I close my eyes, leaning back. Malaya's spear lies next to me.
Malaya. I imagine, as I hear the other tribute- definitely a tribute, I decide- come closer, what might have happened if I hadn't followed her through the Arena. I likely would have died the first day, or soon after. I certainly wouldn't have made the Final Six, and I wouldn't be debating whether or not I should kill this tribute. I do already have blood on my hands, after all.
Another broken branch, followed by a muttered curse. The arrow is on the string in an instant, drawn back and released. The arrow whistles as it cuts the air, before embedding itself in the trunk of a mangrove.
"I know you're there!" I call, hoping I sound confident. "I don't want to hurt you." I add.
"Try telling that to the arrow that missed my hand by three inches." The voice is male, and I recognize him in that instant. The only male tribute left in this Arena, beside myself, is…
"Henry?" I call out. There's silence, and I stand up. Carefully, I place the bow on the ground beside the spear, holding my hands out placatively. "I'm serious, Eight, I have no desire to hurt you."
"I'm sure you told that to the person you murdered yesterday. That blood wasn't yours, Six. I know that."
I freeze, looking at the hands held before me. "I never said that to him, Henry. It was Mason, from Two. Remember him? He was attacking Malaya. I had to kill him."
"I remember him. I also remember you holding me at knife point a week ago." An image flashes through my head, of the Four boy attacking Malaya, me finding Henry in the undergrowth. The standoff that drew no blood.
"I had to save her." I say, "I never wanted to hurt you."
Henry Reynoso, Age 14, District 8
District Eight Male, Sixth Quarter Quell
"You lost her to the cataclysm, didn't you?" I peek out of the trees toward the Six boy, and he swivels his head in my direction. A shadow seems to cross his face, and I tighten my grip on the knife in my hand. The knife Aran Quade threatened me with. The one I've carried since the first time I almost died in this Arena.
"I did." He says. He sounds like he's on the verge of tears, and I resist the urge to laugh. "I held her as she died. Mason… He impaled her on his sword." He wavers, taking a step back. I step out in full view, not bothering to conceal the knife. If he takes another shot, I can use the trees as a barrier. He can't catch me from there, and he's five meters away from his equipment.
"The girl from Five killed Blue." I hear myself saying. "Slit his throat when he wasn't looking." Only half true. The knife ended up in his eye, but I don't want that image in my head ever again.
"Devon? Couldn't have been. She couldn't hurt a fly." Aran's eyes focus back on me.
"I've spent the past couple of days with her. I lost her in the flood." She didn't die.
"Flood?" Aran asks, taking the Segway. "What are you talking about?"
I laugh. So he was unaffected? I could have sworn the tsunami could have covered the entirety of the island, even if it swallowed the northern sector.
"You must have been incredibly sheltered." I say. "The Gamemakers really wanted to see you two take on Mason. The wave was huge, half as high as the volcano by the time it crossed the middle of the island. They must have thrown up forcefields or something."
"You mean, like, in the 3rd Quell?" He asks.
"Precisely. The same way they took out Reita Hare, the Victor from Ten. That would explain why so few people died."
The dark look crosses his face again, and I take a step back. Right. Grief. Causes a man to things he never would otherwise.
"Look, Aran, I'm sorry, but maybe I should get going. I don't know why I was following you in the first place, that was a mistake. I'll go."
"Don't!" He calls. "Please. I'm not sure I can… by myself." I look up, and his tears are flowing again. If I remember correctly, he never cried, not once, during the entirety of the Pre-Games. Malaya must have really meant something to him.
"What are you suggesting?" I ask.
"Maybe you and I could help each other out? Unless I'm wrong, everybody's on their own now, unless the girls from Two and Four have met up or just never split. Do you really think we have a chance of surviving against all of them?"
"You just don't want to die alone, do you?" I accuse. To be honest, I understand how he feels. We've both had someone with us since the beginning of the Games, only for that to have ended yesterday. We have zero experience surviving on our own.
"Maybe a little bit." He admits. "I understand you've probably never been without an Ally either, and we could really be of use to each other, I think." He doesn't know what happened with Devon. This guy knows nothing about me. I could poison him, like I did her.
But I know I couldn't do that. Devon killed Blue, and I owe her nothing. If she dies before I can get her that tea… so be it. But I wouldn't try to kill Aran. Like he said, we can't outlive Cassia and Esmeralda alone.
"I guess we have a deal." I shrug. And I gain my third Ally in the Hunger Games.
Cheyenne Bruno, Age 13, District 10
District Ten Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
It's empty.
The bottle, the one that steals away the pain. The cream for the burns. I used it eagerly, perhaps too much so. I cut my right pant leg, carefully snipping away the melted fabric as I applied the medicine. Some of the cream ended up on my face, leaving not even a scar. It only managed to cover about half of my torso, however, and there are still bits of shrapnel in my arm.
The pain, thankfully, has been reduced, for the most part, to nearly-overwhelming waves. Compared to when I had barely been able to move, it's a lifesaver. The bandages are somewhat helpful, keeping me from accidentally injuring myself further.
I've decided to lay low today, figuring the Gamemakers wouldn't attack the remainder of the tributes seeing as three of us died yesterday. Usually, they give the tributes a couple days to recover after major events, and I managed to survive this one. The Games should be over in a couple days, and I need to rest if I want to be anywhere near ready to fight.
Could I really make it to the finale? Could I really outlive the girls from Two, Four or even Five? The boy from Six? Nobody expected the boy from Eight to make it this far; out of the six of us, he was the only one predicted to fall in the Bloodbath. Granted, I was supposed to fall not long after, so there's that.
Anything can happen in the Arena. We just have to be ready to face it. Four of us weren't supposed to make it this far, according to "experts." And yet, the boy from Two, whom everyone thought would win it all, is lying in a hovercraft somewhere over the Arena. I wonder if Denny would have made it this far, if I had fallen to the jaguar rather than him. Would Keola be alive, if she had run from the Bloodbath?
One mistake, the slightest hesitation, could end your life. I've just been fast enough to outrun it so far. But the Gamemakers won't let me run forever. I'll have to face Mera, or Cassia, or the boy from Six, or something else of their design very soon, and my speed won't save me.
Esmeralda Annalise Dawn, Age 18, District 4
District Four Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
Halibut hasn't sent me anything. Doesn't my useless mentor know that I could die, rather easily, if we don't get my leg fixed? Cassia's knife could easily find me in this tree, the girl from Five. Six likely has a weapon. What am I going to do if they find me here, wounded?
The answer is simple. I will die.
My clothing is soaked through, mixing with the sweat from the jungle and the blood steadily leaking from my head. The agony is one of my main focuses, and I grunt from the pain every so often. I almost wish I could pass out, to escape. I've never been so afraid, so weak.
"Halibut!" I scream my lungs ragged, anguish in my voice. "If you're going to help me anytime this month, the time to do it is NOW."
There's no answer.
A bird lands on the branch above me, her beautiful feathers shining gold and green in the faint light. The stupid Gamemakers haven't even had the decency to clear from the ash from the sky. This bird seems unaffected though, watching me intently with piercing violet eyes.
It's a damn shame it's only a camera.
"I need your help." I plead. "I still have tributes to kill, and we're almost to the finale. I want nothing more than to catch that squealing pig who's evaded me too much already. But I can't do that in my condition. I need your help. I need Sponsors."
I don't remember a tribute ever pleading for Sponsors to a bird, but I suppose there's a first time for everything. It squawks once, though it doesn't fly away. It continues its stare, as though curious.
It feels like hours later when the parachute finally drifts down. The bird watches it carefully, stepping back slightly as it lands in my lap. Suppose the Capitol wanted a better angle. Go figure.
There's a single pill container, which I quickly uncap in order to down the contents. I barely summon the saliva required to swallow them. Dropping it back in the container, I withdraw the note.
Sorry, Mera, I didn't have money for anything, let alone bone regrowth. Take these as directed, and you'll make it to the finale, I promise. Safe Voyage.
As… directed?
I look then, for the first time, at the label on the pill bottle. Two pills twice a day.
Strength returns to me as I read it, however, and I stow it away as I climb down the tree. My leg isn't mending itself, but at least the painkillers are strong. I drag my limp foot behind me as I trek back into the jungle, a prayer on my lips. I need a place to hide, fast.
I find a small tarp in the back of a clearing, hanging over a bed of soft dirt. I freeze, looking around. Another tribute lives here. What do I do?
Pain begins to creep back into my leg, and I start forward. I lay myself down on the dirt, removing the scabbard of my sword from my waist. Of all the things I retained from my time with the Careers, I'm glad for that.
I try to let myself relax, bracing for the waves of pain that are sure to attack me any moment. My sword lays across my lap, ready in case anyone comes back home.
I barely repress the urge to scream.
Cassia Lyra Maurise, Age 18, District 2
District Two Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
"NO!" I scream, looking out over the ocean. "This is ridiculous!"
Last night, I slept in the grove where the Recap Spider found me, unwilling to find my way back to camp in the dark. I then set out early this morning, alone and with minimal supplies, following the trails Mason and I tracked before he died.
And the entire north half of the Arena, the one we, the Careers camped at, is gone.
How could the Gamemakers let this happen? Did they just sink that half of the island? What would be the point? Now I can't get my supplies, as the tents with the bins and the weapons and the food are hidden under that frothing mess of seawater. I'm a decent swimmer, a requirement from the Academy, but even a seasoned Four like Mera wouldn't survive long in those waters, let alone search for the supplies.
In this freaking Arena, everything has gone to pot. Blue and Malaya ditching from the start. Marc's death on Day Three. So few kills over the course of two weeks. And now, that terrifying cataclysm of fire, and somehow one of the most powerful tributes left is left without anything to keep her alive.
Utterly ridiculous.
All I have left is my throwing knives, and I'm thankful that I never took off the vest. Aside from that, Mason had his sword, but Six probably left it on his corpse when he killed him. There's no finding it now.
Six. This is all his stupid fault, I decide. If I'm going to get any more supplies, I'm going to have to hunt. I haven't actually killed anyone since the Bloodbath, but that was a result of circumstance. The only kill I could have taken was the Five boy, but Mason was adamant. And now they're both dead.
I decide first to hike up the volcano, hoping to get a better view of things from that vantage. Maybe someone's stupid enough to start a fire, though I highly doubt it. The others didn't make it this far by being stupid.
The volcano isn't as high as I remember, a result of the explosion yesterday. The area is still remarkably hot, and there's no sign of the Cornucopia. I suppose that, regardless of whether we moved the supplies off the mountain or not, I'd still have lost them.
I don't see anything interesting in the jungle; no flashes of color or smoke or any kind of movement. I sigh. I'll have to hunt them the old-fashioned way, I guess.
I'm coming for you, Six. And then Five; she stabbed my hand the first day. And then Mera, the strongest player left aside from myself. Then it's easy picking from there.
These tributes are mere pawns in the Gamemakers' eyes. By the time they're all dead, however, I will prove that I'm their Queen.
Devon Cynthia Rose, Age 17, District 5
District Five Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
Why is my throat so dry? I've been drinking plenty of water, something Fosca drilled into me during our time together. I shouldn't be parched; it doesn't make sense.
I collapse to the ground as a fit of coughs takes me. I look down, wiping drool from my face. It comes back red.
No, it can't be. I've come so close. I've almost made it to the end, almost made it back to my sweet Ori. I can't die now, not like this. Is there no mercy in this Arena?
No, of course there isn't. There's no mercy in sending children off to die. There's no mercy in crushing the hope of the Districts. Haven't we paid enough of the price? Thousands of children dead to the Games. Seventy-five years since the last rebellion. Children and elders starving in the streets.
No, there's no mercy in Panem. There was no mercy given to me when I caught Darius Thunder's eye. No mercy when Darius' father died. None when Tulle, and Willow, and Denny, and Soot all lost their lives.
The Panem Anthem cries out over the Arena, and I carefully move into a sitting position. The small spider that showed the recap last night appears shortly thereafter, its small screen unfolding before me. The words Day Fourteen: No Deaths appear briefly, before fading to black. This is the fourth day in which the Arena hasn't killed anyone. Some may call that mercy.
But it isn't truly mercy. Rather, it's torture.
Individual Placings!
26th: Sparky Montgomery, Age 12, District Thirteen Male
25th: Kenzi Williams, Age 16, District Seven Female
24th: Tulle Salane, Age 15, District Eight Female
23rd: Thorn Ashbury, Age 13, District Eleven Male
22nd: Keola Foeba, Age 13, District Twelve Female
21st: Harvest Miller, Age 14, District Nine Female
20th: Rebelle Rine, Age 13, District Thirteen Female
19th: Soot Maloy, Age 13, District Twelve Male
18th: Denny Rico, Age 14, District Ten Male
17th: Marcus Caelum, Age 17, District One Male
16th: Jetta Carter, Age 17, District Six Female
15th: Darius Line, Age 17, District Five Male
14th: Infiniti Reagan, Age 17, District Three Female
13th: Willow Orchids, Age 13, District Eleven Female
12th: Logan Woodson, Age 16, District Seven Male
11th: Jasper Blue, Age 16, District Four Male
10th: Thanatos Rize, Age 15, District Nine Male
9th: Cordin Bolt, Age 16, District Three Male
8th: Mason Lepodolite, Age 18, District Two Male
7th: Malaya Garnet, Age 17, District One Female
Kills!
Malaya Garnet: 1 (Logan Woodson, D7M)
Marcus Caelum: 1 (Kenzi Williams, D7F)
Cassia Lyra Maurise: 2 (Thorn Ashbury, D11M; Sparky Montgomery, D13M)
Mason Lepodolite: 5 (Malaya Garnet, D1F; Darius Line, D5M; Jetta Carter, D6F; Tulle Salane, D8F; Keola Foeba, D12F)
Esmeralda "Mera" Annalise Dawn: 4 (Infiniti Reagan, D3F; Thanatos Rize, D9M; Soot Maloy, D12M; Rebelle Sunflower Rine, D13F)
Devon Cynthia Rose: 1 (Jasper Blue, D4M)
Darius Line: 1 (Harvest Miller, D9F)
Aran Quade: 1 (Mason Lepodolite, D2M)
Thanatos Rize: 1 (Willow Orchids, D11F)
Other: 3 (Marcus Caelum, D1M (Sepsis); Cordin Bolt, D3M (Hellhound); Denny Rico, D10M (Jaguar))
Alliances!
The Grief Team: Aran (6), Henry (8)
Loners!
Cassia (2)
Esmeralda (4)
Devon (5)
Cheyenne (10)
Questions!
Thoughts?
Predictions for Day 15?
When will these Games end?
WE'RE SO CLOSE GUYS
Z
