Chapter 26- Nell Slatefield
"Right here; we'll camp right here," Trestle says, spreading his arms wide.
"Why here?"
"It's on a hill; we'll be able to see anyone who comes along, and then we get them," he says, grinning.
"They'll be able to see us too," I say, taking off the backpack and setting it down on the ground.
"Not when we rig up our shelter."
"Aren't you glad I went to shelter making during Training?" I ask. Trestle rolls his eyes.
"That was one of the few things you weren't shit at." I feign hurt, clapping my hand over my heart.
"You've wounded me, Trestle!" I say, but I can't help laughing.
"I did more than wound that girl earlier," Trestle says, and now I don't want to laugh anymore.
When the gong sounded at the beginning of the day, Trestle went straight for the Cornucopia. I, being his ally, went after him. So did everyone else, it seemed.
Trestle dodged the others and ran straight into the horn, grabbing a set of knives. The girl from 5 came after him, and he slashed her throat open. I didn't stop running towards him, even when Hazel collapsed at my feet and the other tributes started fighting and yelling.
I had been between Kiril and Mariana, Trestle's district partner, while we were on the plates; Kiril ran off the other way, but Mariana followed us onto the Cornucopia island.
"Get a pack and let's get out of here!" Trestle shouted at me. I was temporarily distracted by seeing Lotem get cut down with a sword, wielded by Reaper from 9. My district partner, the calm and collected Lotem, dead just like that. I caught a glimpse of the District 4 girl, running past me. Nobody moved to kill her, so I let her go.
"Nell!" I pulled my eyes away from the fighting and grabbed a backpack near the entrance, and a slingshot that was nearby. Just as I'd slung the bag over my shoulder, the boy Career from 2 came at me with a knife; luckily, Trestle pulled me out of reach just in time.
"Run, now," he said to me, pulling me along away from the island. I almost stumbled over Mariana, who was bleeding out onto the beach; behind us there was screaming and the horrible sound of tributes being killed, and all around us were tributes fleeing the island with various supplies. The boy from 2 didn't come after us; he got distracted by all the supplies and more available tributes I suppose.
Trestle and I ran through the water, getting soaked in the process. I'm still wet; I miss the current button outside of the Capitol showers that dries you off instantly. Here, I'm going to have to put up with damp pants. I hate damp pants.
"Can you swim?" Trestle called to me.
"No!" Where would I learn to swim in District 11? I mean, come on.
"Then go as fast as you can!" He started paddling, which he picked up somewhere. I don't know; he won't tell me how he learned to swim. I hate shoes, but with all the crunching going on under my feet, I was glad for the boots they put me in. My feet would be cut to ribbons otherwise.
Once we got to shore, we ran, along the beach since it was faster. About ten minutes away from where we landed, we found a pond; the backpack included a water bottle, so we filled it up and kept running away from the Cornucopia, eventually going through the jungle. And that's where we are now, on top of a hill.
"The Weasel's gotten out of more difficult situations than that," Trestle says, sitting down on a moss-covered log.
"Oh yeah? Tell me about something that was more difficult than that," I say.
"Confidential, my dear friend."
"Enough of the confidential stuff. Just tell me something." My hair's damp and keeps falling out of the ponytail into my face. Hugely annoying.
"I'll tell you a story, but you're sworn to secrecy, Nell," Trestle says. Secrecy? That's a laugh; the cameras are probably on us right now.
"Fine."
"There was this time when me and the gang got trapped down an alleyway," Trestle says, leaning back against a tree and looking upwards with a satisfied smile on his face. "The only way out was up, but the wall was too high for just one of us to climb. So we stood on each others' shoulders and I climbed out first; I helped my mate out next, and we hung down and pulled up the next chap, until we had everyone up on that wall. The 'keepers couldn't get us then, and they never will."
"They sort of did," I point out. "You're here."
"That's different, my girl. Don't you think I could have gotten away if I wanted to?"
"I doubt you could have."
"You have so little faith in me. This is just a fine vacation, a story to tell the gang at home. Nothing to get worked up about at all."
"Where are we camping tonight?" I ask, changing the subject. While I'm not squeamish by any means, I wasn't fond of seeing my ally kill Hazel. Eight dead today, including the cannon that came later in the day. Who it was, I don't know. "I know we're staying here, but whereabouts are we sleeping?"
"You give the answer for once," Trestle says, smirking at me.
"Fine." I look around, trying to find a good place. "We'll sleep up in a tree," I say.
"A tree?" Trestle raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah, why not? I've slept in trees before." That's the truth; you have to catch a nap where you can sometimes, and high up in a tree in the orchard is as good a place as any. I've never been caught, so it's a perfect place to go.
"You're just trying to break my neck, Eleanor," Trestle says.
"Why would I do that? Quit complaining and let's find a good tree. And don't call me Eleanor," I say, picking up the bag again and starting to walk in a circle.
"Let's find you a tree, then, Nell," Trestle says, stretching and getting up. "Fabian better send down some eatings or it's going to be a lean night tonight."
"Seeder's not going to let us go hungry," I say. We're bound to have loads of sponsors, and now that Lotem's dead she can use all the funds for me. A bit selfish to think that, but it's true.
In a forest there's lots of trees, obviously, but not very many good ones to sleep in. District 11 certainly isn't the best place for forests, but we do have the orchards and the occasional tree in the Roots, so I'm used to dealing with trees. I have never seen any trees like these, though.
"Your tree idea isn't the best you've had," Trestle says, looking up with me for a proper branch.
"There's going to be one, you'll see," I say, then I run towards a tree with a thick trunk and large bark, going all the way up into a canopy of solid branches. "See? Here's one."
"You want to sleep up there?" Trestle looks at me like I'm stupid.
"If you're too scared to, then I guess I'll be sleeping alone," I say. I can't climb very well with boots on, so I take them off and tie the strings together, draping them around my neck. After securing the backpack on my shoulders I begin my climb up. The bark hurts my hands, but gives me a good grip; my toes are happy to be out in the open again, and climbing too.
I scramble to a large branch and straddle it, looking down at my ally below. "Are you coming up or are you going to wait for the others to come?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Trestle says. For all his complaining, he's a quick climber too, like I saw in the Training Center.
"This is just like the net in Training," I say, swinging my legs over open air.
Trestle grins. "Then we can shoot nuts at the others here too."
"See, it's a perfect hideout. They didn't find us last time, did they?"
"I underestimated you," Trestle says, sitting back against the trunk and stretching his legs out along the solid branch below him.
"You shouldn't," I say. The bloodbath is over, we both survived it, and now we're up in a tree away from everyone else. It's perfect. Plus the arena is warm, which reminds me of home.
I start to laugh again. "We should have finished making that hammock; we could have made one up here and been comfortable."
"Stupidest thing I've ever done," Trestle says. "Who wants to make a hammock when you can sleep on hardwood?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm used to sleeping on something soft," I say. Granted, the trundle bed that I share with Rosa at home isn't extremely comfortable, but it's nicer than sleeping on the floor. When I get out of here, I'm going to get myself a bed all for me, and it's going to be even softer than the beds in the Training Center.
"Soft beds are for weak people," Trestle says. "I've never slept on a soft bed in my whole life."
"What about in the apartments?" I ask.
"I slept on the floor; the boys at home would laugh me down the road if they knew I slept in a bed covered in cushions and blankets. No, it's a hard floor for me."
"You're foolish," I say.
"Hey, Nell," Trestle says, eyes closed.
"What?"
"I dare you to hang off the branch."
"Like how?"
"By your hands."
"Challenge accepted." I lean the backpack against the trunk and loop my boots over the branch I'm sitting on. "Better open your eyes or you'll miss it."
As Trestle watches, I swing down off of the branch, until I'm hanging by my fingers over the ground below. It's about twenty feet down or so; if I fell, I'd probably break something. I won't fall; I've never fallen.
"See, it's not hard," I say, kicking my legs up so I'm hanging like the grey creature I saw earlier in the day. I saw a couple, actually, whatever they were. Looping my legs over the tree limb, I hang by my knees and sway gently back and forth; my hair goes up and over my head and I see everything the opposite way it should be.
"We're too visible right here; we need to climb higher," I say, looking at the upside-down ferns below me. Or are they above me right now?
"Get up and we'll go higher then," Trestle says. I sit up and grab the branch, pulling myself back to safety.
"Not too high, or the branches will be too weak to stand on," I say, picking up my boots and the backpack again. Trestle has his knives that he took from the Cornucopia to carry, but he puts them down the sides of his boots.
"Yes, bossy," Trestle says.
"Don't call me bossy; I'm telling you some good ideas here," I say. "Think you can climb it?"
"You of little faith," Trestle says, rolling his eyes. "I've been climbing buildings since I learned to walk."
"And I've been climbing trees since I learned to crawl," I say, flipping my hair back over my shoulder. Even in this heat my clothes feel clammy, from the seawater dunking we took getting over here.
"We're well matched. Let's go up."
Maybe twenty minutes later we've got a new perch, higher up in the tree where the bushy leaves hide us better from the ground. Just in time too; the light's starting to go.
"It's going to get cold tonight," I say, trying to get myself comfortable on a wide branch. I've slept in trees before, but never overnight, and never quite this high up. But hey! I've made it through the first day, almost, and that's a feat. Eight tributes didn't, so I'm feeling quite good about myself.
"Just curl up and bear it, and tomorrow we'll get ourselves a fine fire," Trestle says, shifting around in an attempt to make himself comfortable.
"Fine," I say, grabbing the pack and flipping the top open to get a good look at the supplies we took from the Cornucopia, before the light completely goes.
"What'd we get?" Trestle asks.
"Packet of crackers," I say, holding them up, "Beef jerky, the water bottle, some sunglasses, and… a first aid kit."
"What a wonderful supper," Trestle says sarcastically. "Crackers and beef jerky."
"We'll live," I say, stuffing the supplies back into the pack. "Oh, and the slingshot I grabbed."
"Just wait until someone comes along under us and we'll get them," Trestle says. I'm not fond of the dangerous look in his eyes that's only come about since the bloodbath.
Seeder told me not to trust him, but I can't break off the alliance now. And I don't want to! I don't want to be alone in this rainforest. Plus, I like Trestle; he's fun to be around.
"Shit," Trestle says, looking up. "It's raining." Sure enough, raindrops start to fall around us, making pretty music on the ground below. My jacket was just drying, and now it's soaked again. Tonight is going to be a damp and uncomfortable night.
After we've been thoroughly soaked, the rain stops, leaving the jungle filled with the twilight songs of birds. "I've always liked birds," I say, hugging my wet knees to my chest. "There's lots at home."
"You don't see birds in 6," Trestle says. "'Cept maybe pigeons and startlings."
"We don't have startlings in 11, but we have grooslings and mockingjays. Lots of mockingjays; if you whistle at them while you're working in the orchards, they whistle back to you."
The jungle is becoming dark very quickly; I can't see more than ten feet away from me now, and all color is vanishing, being replaced by blacks and greys. "I'm going to climb up higher so I can see the seal," I say. Trestle doesn't reply, just waves his hand. So I climb up and perch on a narrower branch, where I can see through the leaves.
Once the sky is truly dark, the Capitol seal appears in the sky, accompanied by the anthem. Like the last time I heard the song during the interviews, I hate it. The Capitol's brought me here, and even though it's pretty and I have a friend and all, it's a prison. Either Trestle or me is going to end up not going home, and I don't really know how to feel about that.
The first face in the sky is the Career boy from 1. A Career out on the first day? This is unusual, but news sweet to my ears. The fewer Careers, the better.
The next faces are the pair from 5; there's the girl Trestle killed earlier today. She made no impression on me, and now she's dead. I don't know how to feel about that either. I guess the District 3s made it through the first day; that's rare. They usually die in the bloodbath.
After Hazel, it's Mariana. She had been quiet but nice. Then the pair from District 10; they never have much luck. They usually go out in the bloodbath, and have done that the past few years. Lotem's face goes up in the sky. I didn't know him well either, but he had been from home, and now he's dead too. It's funny how empty and alone seeing him in the sky makes me feel.
The last face is the boy from 12, Fissure, then the Capitol seal is back before fading out, leaving me in darkness. Carefully, I pick my way down the tree, back to where Trestle is waiting for me.
"Who's dead?" he says in a low voice.
I make it back to my usual branch and sit down before answering, "Boy from 1, both from 5, Mariana, both from 10, Lotem, and the boy from 12."
"Not bad," he says. "You take first watch, and wake me up in a few hours. They're not going to send us anything, so I'm going to get me some shuteye while I can."
"Okay," I say. I don't think I'd be able to sleep yet anyway. There's too much that could go wrong in here.
While Trestle sleeps, I stare out into the dark. First day's over; now what? I wonder how my family is doing back at home. I haven't killed anyone, so Auntie can't be upset about that; but when I do have to kill another tribute, how are they going to feel? Does it even matter what they think as long as I get back alive?
Suddenly I want to be back in my home in the Roots, sitting in front of the fireplace while Auntie and Uncle tell stories about the old times right after the Dark Days, and stories from before the Dark Days that have been passed down for generations. Sometimes we sing, and the whole house fills with happiness. I even miss Rosa.
No tears now, Nell! I have to march bravely on, like the rebels in the old stories. They rose up against the Capitol, and… they got killed, didn't they? The rebellion was crushed and that's why I'm here sitting in a tree. They were brave, but things turned out terribly in the end. I really hope that's not what happens to me in my end.
"And remember this," Uncle always says at the end of his rebellion stories, "The rebellion may have failed then, but one day it will be back! And the districts will rise up again, greater and more powerfully than before." Auntie would always swat him when he'd tell those stories, saying that 'Anyone could be listening, and where will those stories get us?"
Rosa and I loved the rebel stories as kids, and sometimes we'd play rebels and Capitol, before we really knew what they meant. Now I wonder if Uncle could be right; maybe the rebellion will happen again, eventually.
Can't think about that now. I need to focus on getting out of here alive. I'm just about to get a drink of water when something catches my eye.
I barely have enough time to say, "Trestle?" before the cat leaps.