CW: Mentions of Genital Mutilation in Ritz's POV
As Ritz walked through the fiery forest, they could feel the beads of sweat dripping down their face and soaking their shirt. They and their allies had been walking pretty much all day, leaving their old camp as early as they could, much to Ritz's satisfaction. As good as their camp had been for the night, Ritz just… didn't want to be anywhere nearby. The thoughts of the previous day's events weighed heavily on their mind; Ritz could only hope that moving anywhere else in the Arena would help their brain calm down a little bit so they could focus back on the task at hand. They just wanted their brain to stop replaying that horrified yet somehow gleeful look on Ryelee's face as she revealed Ritz's… differences for all of Panem to see.
See, Ritz had always known they were different. They were even an anomaly within the Sexless Society. Yes, most adults in the Society no longer had their sexual markers. Ritz, on the other hand, had lost theirs when they were a child when their circumcision went rather wrong. Being physically distinguished from a community of already ostracized people had led Ritz to work even harder as a missionary, even as they began to doubt that the values of the Sexless Society were ones they should be preaching. Here in the Games, Runar was trying not to worry about their life back home; if they managed to survive, they could go back to figuring out whether the Society was really right for them. But Ryelee had reminded him so violently about all of his debates and questions and doubts that Ritz found himself rather rattled. Hopefully, a change of scenery would be just what they needed to get them on the right track.
"You doing OK, Ritz?"
Ritz glanced behind him to look at Marie. "Yeah."
"Good, I'm glad. I'm here if you wanna talk or anything, OK?"
"Thank you."
As they kept walking, it suddenly dawned on Ritz that they couldn't remember the last time that someone had checked in with them, had taken into consideration what they wanted. And yet here was Marie, who seemed to have known without Ritz even saying anything that they wanted to leave, who was acting in Ritz's interest above anyone else's. Ritz wasn't sure what to make of the feeling that someone else was looking out for them, the warm, fuzzy sensation that developed in their gut.
It felt… nice.
"Do you guys want to pause for a minute?" Marie asked. "We haven't really taken any time to drink or eat. That's probably something we should do."
"Oh, you're right," Evion agreed. "I guess I am getting kind of hungry."
Ritz realized that, while they were used to walking around without food or water in relatively warm weather for extended periods of time, their allies were not. "Sure, that's fine."
"All right. Let's have a little something with protein, maybe some carbs, but still ration things. We don't know how much longer it'll take until we can find a consistent food source, so we should be careful."
Ritz sat down on the forest floor and opened their bag, pulling out a small bag of trail mix. As they did so, they noticed that the area around him was growing darker, a strange purple glow settling over the Arena. Ritz looked up to see that the sky had turned a fluorescent shade of violet as a low buzzing noise subtly overtook all of the other sounds in the Arena. "What's going on?"
"I'm not sure," Marie admitted. "But I don't know if I like it.
At that moment, a glowing number 48 appeared in the sky. It hung for a moment, pulsing with a vibrant green light before it slowly began counting down.
47
46
45
"What does it mean?" Ritz asked.
Marie thought for a moment. "The only idea that I have is that it has to do with the number of tributes left in the Arena? Like instead of cannons because we haven't heard those yet."
"It's as good a guess as any."
"Uh, guys?" Evion broke in. "Is that buzzing sound getting louder for you too?"
Ritz froze. Sure enough, the buzzing was getting louder. They began to look around, desperate to find the source of the noise. And it didn't take long to spot it.
It was pretty hard to miss the giant wall of purple moving directly towards them.
"We need to run."
"But what about the firewood?"
"Why are you thinking about the firewood? It doesn't matter." Orchid zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "We need to run."
"But…"
"Quiinn! Are you fucking blind?" Orchid grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to face the purple tsunami moving towards them. "I'm not getting caught up in whatever the fuck that is. If you want to stay and get yourself killed, feel free. But I'm running."
"Oh. Yeah, let's go."
The two took off, flying through the forest as fast as their legs could carry them. Admittedly, that wasn't very fast, but it was at least fast enough to keep herself ahead of whatever was moving towards them. Every now and again, Orchid peeked over her shoulder, hoping that the purple wall had stopped, but no matter how hard she hoped, it just kept moving. Fortunately, it seemed like she and Quiinn were faster than it. So after five minutes of running, when Orchid felt like she could not get any more air into her lungs, she felt alright enough to pause to catch her breath.
"What was that purple thing?" asked Quiinn, bent over as he tried to catch his breath.
"Not sure. It's probably connected to that," Orchid guessed, pointing to the number hovering above the Arena as it switched from 44 to 43. "Otherwise, I doubt they would appear at the same time." Orchid couldn't deny that she was curious; being from Eleven, she'd never gotten anywhere near technology like whatever that moving energy field was. But she had to quell the nagging voice in her head that insisted she go investigate. The last thing Orchid needed was to get too close to it while it was dormant, then immediately burn up while it reactivated.
There would be more than enough time to learn about how it worked once she got out of here.
"Hey, Orchid, do you hear that?"
"Huh?"
"It sounds like someone calling for help."
Sure enough, if Orchid listened closely, she could hear the faint sounds of a child screaming. But before she could say another word, before she could insist that they wait and not run into what might be a trap, Quiinn bolted towards the noise. Orchid took a deep breath, steeling her resolve, then ran after him.
As hard as Quiinn was making it, Elevens had to stick together.
Quiinn flew through the forest, any previous fatigue completely forgotten. He knew the sound of a desperate little voice all too well; such was the life of someone with many younger siblings. When there was a child who needed help, Quiinn was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. A small part of him recognized that this was dangerous, stupid even. But the loud voice of his instinct completely drowned it out.
He had to go help that child. There was no other choice.
Pushing through the leaves in front of him, Quiinn emerged into a small clearing. There were the two younger kids from Eight, Saskia pulling hard on Harlen, who seemed to be caught in a puddle of mud. "I can't do it!" Harlen exclaimed, flailing his arms around wildly.
"Yes, you can! I'm going to get you out of there," insisted Saskia.
"No. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!"
"You're not going to die! I won't let you."
"Hi," Quiinn breathed. "Here. Let me help."
"Thank you!" Saskia exclaimed, stepping to the side to allow Quiinn to help. Quiinn grabbed hold of Harlen's hand and pulled as hard as he could. He did manage to get the boy about an inch further out of the bog, but as soon as he relaxed his grip even a hair, Harlen would slip again. It was almost like something was grasping him from within the mud, refusing to let him go.
"Quiinn! What are you doing?"
Quiinn jumped in the air, accidentally letting go of Harlen's hand. "I'm just helping him out, Orchid," he frantically explained, quickly grabbing the boy's wrist again to stop him from slipping further into the muck.
Orchid began gesturing wildly. "We don't have time for this! Come on!"
Quiinn looked up and gasped. There was the purple wall in front of him, moving ever closer. If he stopped now, Harlen would certainly be caught by it, and then what would become of him? Quiinn had already let one child die on his watch and lost another; he couldn't bear to leave this one behind.
"Just one more try, Orchid, please," he begged, pulling at the boy harder and harder. "Please, let me help him."
"Quiinn, you can't save everyone."
"But I can at least try!"
He had to try. Quiinn couldn't bear to see someone else die when there was still more he could do.
Orchid didn't know what to do.
Her brain insisted that she run, that it wasn't safe for her to stay here when the violet tsunami could arrive and destroy them any minute. She knew that Quiinn was being foolish in trying to save those children. Even if he got the boy out of the muck and they managed to run, the Eights would probably wind up dying somehow later on. And Orchid sure as hell did not want to ally with the Eights. Fellow Elevens were one thing, but small children from another district were quite another; protecting them would likely put Orchid into more danger than they were worth.
The Games were not built for children so young.
But as much as she knew her brain was right, Orchid's heart couldn't help but ache as she saw Quiinn clawing at the boy, pulling with every ounce of might that he had. Orchid could understand Quiinn's desire to save those kids because she felt the same fierce protectiveness over her family. And she did feel the same for Quiinn. Eleven loyalty ran deep for Orchid; now that the youngsters were gone, if she left Quinn here, she'd be leaving behind her last remaining piece of home.
But could she really stay here if it meant risking her own life?
Orchid looked up again. The purple field of energy was moving closer and closer, and it showed no sign of stopping. Every second that she spent debating could be the one that made the difference between life and death. She looked down at Quiinn, then back at the field, then back at Quiinn.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I'm leaving. With or without you."
"Orchid, please don't."
"It's too dangerous. If you want to stay, you can, but I can't take the risk."
"Orchid!" Quiinn exclaimed. "Help him, please." But she was already running away, quickly disappearing into the forest.
"What do we do?" Saskia asked, her face growing more and more desperate.
"We keep trying."
Quiinn pulled at Harlen again, desperately trying to get the boy out of the mud. But the buzzing sound was drawing closer and closer. Quiinn looked up and saw the purple wall again, closer to him than it had ever been. For the first time, Quiinn felt more than scared – he was terrified.
Quiinn, you can't save everyone.
"Saskia," Quiinn said, his voice wavering.
"What?"
"Get your pack on."
"Huh?"
"Get it on. Now."
"What are you doing?" Harlen squealed.
Quiinn felt tears forming in his eyes. "I'm going to try one more time, Harlen, but I don't know if it'll be enough."
"You mean…"
"I'm sorry."
Quiinn took a deep breath, then grabbed Harlen's arms and pulled, using every ounce of strength he had left. Then, in one fluid motion, he yanked really hard and let go, hoping that there was momentum to pull Harlen out. Without looking back, Quiinn scooped Saskia up and threw her over his shoulder, taking off in the same direction that Orchid had gone. He tried to tune out Harlen's screams, tried to ignore the buzzing sound that just wouldn't leave his head. But he could not tune out the voice in his head.
You've let two children die, Quiinn. You couldn't save them. What kind of a big brother are you?
37/9. Harlen Enetrust, District Eight Quell Male. Killed by the Forcefield.