Chapter Sixty-Four: Tread Carefully

Day Six

Sienna Starboard, District Four Female

I'm absolutely exhausted at the moment, but I knew better than to sleep when Godric was passed out like that. We'd been through a lot in the past few hours, better to give him some time to recover before I can figure out what the hell is going to happen next.

Everything almost came crashing down because Godric forgot to mention the insignificant little detail that he could barely swim. If he'd died last night, I'd probably be screwed: while my odds of fending off Clara aren't zero, they're way worse than a coin flip. While the darkest corner of my mind keeps telling me the same thing about Godric, I think I can at least count on him not to stab me in the back for now.

Somehow, things still worked out. With the girl from Eleven dead, I think I can safely say we're the strongest alliance remaining unless there's some super-alliance being formed that we don't know about. At the same time, I also feel like Sirena would have hinted at or just outright told me about that in a note of some kind: my guess is we still have enough sponsor money left over to push that through. The two of us can take down Clara and the boy from Eleven when it comes to that, and who's the highest-scoring person left besides that? I think the girl from Eight, maybe?

Either way, I could probably beat her in a straight fight, and that's not even getting started on what Godric could do.

Speaking of Godric, he seems to finally be recovering from our disaster with the whirlpool, slowly pulling himself to a sitting position as several vicious coughs erupt from his mouth. He turns to the side and spits something out, then stands up shakily to face me.

"The girl from Eleven is dead," I say. "Her District partner survived. No idea where he is, but I think he ended up on the opposite side of the lake from us."

"Good," Godric says. "I'm not in great condition for a fight right now."

Unfortunately, he's about to get one, albeit probably not the kind of fight he was expecting. I didn't really get the chance to talk to him about the events that led to both of us nearly drowning because I was too busy trying to make sure that neither of us fucking died, but I figure now's as good a time as any. Better to get it out now rather than have something else just like that get one or both of us killed.

"Godric, I've got something to say," I start. "I'm not sure if you've figured this out left, but not telling me you really couldn't swim was really stupid on your part."

Godric's expression darkens. "Seriously? What was I supposed to do there?

"You could have told me! I would have gone out alone, and then you wouldn't have to worry about drowning!"

"And what would have happened if I did that, huh?" Godric's not taking this well, I can tell that. "You would have been alone in a whirlpool with two pretty good fighters trying to skewer you!"

Okay, that's a bullshit point to make. "I didn't know they were anywhere near us! You didn't know either! Acting like we'd magically have known that was going to happen if I stayed behind isn't going to work!"

The argument continues for quite some time, Godric trying to say he didn't want me to be in any more danger than necessary and getting the reply that he put both of us in danger if he fell out. Even with the requisite lifeguard training that came with being a member of the Academy back home, Godric's really big and was thrashing like crazy trying to stay above water, if things had gone badly he could have easily killed us both. It goes on, back and forth, for like ten minutes, and by that point both of our faces are red and I think both of us can tell that we're not getting the point across any better than we already have.

I don't have enough energy to continue this anymore. Thankfully, the same seems to be true for Godric as well.

"Look," Godric says. "It almost happened, but it didn't. Both of us are still here, and everything about that whirlpool is behind us as long as we stay out of that fucking lake We need to focus on what might happen the rest of the way. There's eight other tributes left, and at least a few are legitimate threats. Having bad blood between us isn't going to end well."

I can't say he doesn't have a point here, although maybe not in the manner he's intending. Splitting up might not be much of an inconvenience for him, but it's a major problem for me, if not an outright death sentence. Could I claw my way to the top on my own? Possibly. But that's not the same thing as saying it's going to happen. Once Clara's gone, I'm sure I can handle myself. With her in the mix, though, I know any attempts at flying solo are probably going to fail.

Godric extends his hand. "Can we leave this behind us and focus on what's ahead?"

There really isn't another choice. "Yes. Just, if there's anything else like that we need to worry about, tell me, okay?"

Godric nods as we shake hands. "As long as you'll do the same for me."

That's a definite yes. I can't say we've put this behind us, but we've shoved the issue aside for now, at least until we get our bearings once more and start becoming major players once more. We just have to hope that we can handle ourselves and stick together until the endgame starts.

Rhaemyr North, District Three Male

No one and nothing entered my cave during the rain, and for that, I'm very grateful. What I'm less grateful for is that I've chewed through basically everything I have over the past five days or so, meaning I'm either going to have to forage and get lucky from now on, or raid someone else, at least if someone else has enough supplies to make raiding them worth it.

Unfortunately, the odds of that after so long aren't great. I could try my luck with the Careers again, but I got so turned around during that fucking rainstorm that I'm not sure if I know which direction the Cornucopia's in anymore. Doing the same for anyone else is a massive gamble at best and a pointless endeavor at worst, depending on the state of their bounties or if they even have those to begin with.

Even without that much left, at the same time I still need to keep my energy up if I want any chance of pulling off a second heist. Thus, one of my last two cans of food and a long sip of water become breakfast. It's not gourmet eating, but it's no different than what I was used to back home, the memories threatening to come back and leave me a broken husk once more.

"Good day," I say out loud, hoping to make that become real. "I need a good day today."

Once that's handled, I pack up whatever's left and step outside, the sunlight almost blinding me as I do. I guess almost two days of total darkness is more than enough to screw with your vision or something.

After a bit, that issue fixes itself and I can see normally again, allowing me to take a moment to look up. While the ground's become a bit muddy due to all the rain, the skies above are nearly cloudless, only a couple of tiny white puffs against a backdrop of bright blue. Perfect. I need to get moving anyway before something gets sent after me. I'm not sure exactly what I'll be able to fight with nothing but a can opener, but I doubt it matches anything the Gamemakers can throw at me.

The sun starting to bake everything, I set off. I'll have to wait until at least tonight to try snatching anything, but at the same time, the Gamemakers might as well know I'm making an effort.

Lacey Loveless, District Eight Female

All this looking is starting to get to me. At this point, I'm seriously wondering if I should just abandon my search for Zari and forge on alone.

Despite my best efforts to search as much of the arena as possible, I have yet to run into her, or really anyone else for that matter. Maybe there's more space here than I thought, because even with our numbers now whittled down to ten, you'd think I'd at least stumble into someone on accident by now. And Zari may have been helpful handling that bitch from Two, I don't want to think about what might happen if it came down to her and me. Not because I can't overpower her, but because I want the best chance possible for that, and that will require playing dirty.

I'm on the move, looking for some sign of life so I can deal with whatever scenario is going to play out next, whatever that may be. I've had no one but the voices in my head to talk with for a few days, and I know that none of them are great company. Or, at the very least, they're not the best practice for talking with other human beings. In the event I want to ally with someone or, you know, talk my way out of being killed, I don't think any of the same tricks I use there will work.

A few steps after coming to that conclusion, I finally hear some noise that doesn't seem to be caused by either me or the wind. On instinct, I grab the handles of two of the remaining knives in my belt just in case the encounter becomes violent, waiting for whoever or whatever this is to show itself.

Then the bushes in front of me rustle and spit out an enormous fucking kid with dark skin. He looks confused, like someone just dumped him here for a cheap laugh, and with how uncoordinated his movements look, it doesn't take much guesswork to figure something traumatic for him probably happened not long ago.

He's easy enough to recognize as the boy from Eleven, so I decide to risk drawing his attention. If he's open to allies, he'd be very useful, and even if he becomes hostile I'm sure I can outrun him if it comes to that. "Hey!"

His head whips around before his gaze lands squarely on where I'm standing. I hold out my hands just so he knows I don't plan on harming him (right now, at least), and when he doesn't charge the instant he sees me I take that as a good sign. I'll pay close attention just in case he decides to try and kill me off in a sneakier manner, but I'm guessing that's not likely at the moment.

Might as well make my play now. "You're the leader of the other anti-Career alliance, aren't you?"

He nods, although it almost looks painful. "Former leader, anyhow."

Oh, right. With his District Partner just having been shown in the sky, I think I can safely conclude that all his allies are dead and he's the last one of them left. Which does make what I'm trying to do a little easier…

"Me too," I say, trying my best to sound sympathetic. "One of my allies died really early. The other one, I don't know. We got split up a while back and I still haven't found her."

Thomiah pauses for a bit upon hearing that, perhaps to make sure I'm telling the truth or something. If he remembers our meeting from the end of training, he should know unless I'm some kind of a sadistic fuck who gets off on torturing people (which, oh yeah, the Games have had a few of those), but at the same time, do I look like a sadistic fuck? I sure hope not.

"I'll believe you for now," he says. "Would you take her back if you found her now."

"I mean, if we found her I'd take her in, but I would have liked that to happen a while back," I say. "She wasn't an ally you'd kill for, but she was plenty of help."

Thomiah releases an awkward chuckle. "I see. So, you want to stick together for now?"

I nod. "Of course. If the Careers come knocking, I'd rather have someone to help me out then go it alone."

Thomiah seems to feel the same way about that.

Well, looks like I have a new temporary friend. While everything I know about him suggests he'll be a massive help, at the same time I don't want it to come down to the two of us. Just from his size, I can tell that if I get into a straight fight with him it's probably not going to have a great outcome.

I'll cross that bridge if we get that far, I guess. He's a must for now, but whether or not he'll be around later remains unknown.

Sotia Vance, District Three Female

The sun's been out for a while, meaning that unless the Gamemakers are all still asleep, I need to get going before they send something at me.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," I say to no one in particular.

Starting the day's journey at a careful pace and avoiding any paths I stumble across, I trek through the woods, looking for any other potential targets I could hit. Not that there's a ton of those left, since if I remember correctly, I'm the weakest remaining tribute on a statistical level.

While my odds may have improved with the stunt I pulled with the allies from Eight and Twelve, I'm not sure if I have the stomach to do something like that again. I didn't last time, so that means the boy from Twelve might still be out there somewhere and plotting revenge.

Will I have to fight him? Maybe. Will I win that fight? Hand-to-hand, I'd say I have the advantage just because I'm a bit taller than he is if I remember correctly. If he has any kind of weapon more useful than a rock, though, I can't say I imagine a positive outcome. Even with the can opener I have from staying in that supply haven a few days earlier, unless I get a really lucky shot in and somehow bludgeon him to death (which would be really fucking messy and unpleasant, to the point where I'm not sure I'd be able to finish the act once I got started) there's no way I'm winning that.

For now, there's not much else to do but to keep it moving. There's only so much I can accomplish—

SNAP!

At least four sharp objects enter the lower part of my leg at once and I'm suddenly on the ground.

"FUCK! FUCKING SHIT!" Not exactly the best thing to do considering everyone within a two-mile radius probably heard that, but I don't care at the moment.

Everything below my left knee feels like someone set it on fire, and it's no surprise that any attempts to get back up aren't going to work, my leg no longer functioning like it's supposed to. Then, with the appropriate limb now at eye level, I manage to get a nice look at what the fuck just happened.

Someone planted a goddamn trap in the ground, and I was fucking stupid enough to step right into it like a goddamn moron! This is not what was supposed to happen! It was supposed to be the other fucking way around!

This is karma. It has to be. Some kind of fucking cosmic punishment for what I've done. Except this is the fucking Hunger Games, so that's not goddamn appreciated in the slightest.

I'd spew my curses at the world or do something like that, but there's only so much you can do when the only thing that's coming out of you at the moment is vomit. Whatever meager rations found their way into my stomach all come up at once, and by the time I'm done, my stomach's still heaving: the only difference between before and now is that there's nothing else that can come out.

Despite every cell in my body trying to rebel against me, I manage to force it to start moving again. First to a sitting position. Then to my hands and knees, rolling over as gingerly as possible. Then upright, using my good leg as a base to keep the bad one from moving too much.

Almost experimentally, I let my bad foot touch the ground. Somehow, my leg can take some weight, I'm not sure how anymore. That settles it.

I'm not going to just lie here and wait for the end to claim me, I'm going to die on my fucking feet. Even as every nerve in my leg keeps shooting agony to my brain and there can't be a feasible way out of this, I manage to keep moving at a slow, torturous walk.

Step, clang, step, clang, step, clang…

ALLIANCES:

Loyalist Careers: Godric, Sienna

Picking Up the Pieces: Lacey, Thomiah

Together by Chance: Zari, Toren

Loners (For Now): Clara, Rhaemyr, Sotia, Maxxer

Author's Notes:

-Well, that chapter's done. And Day Six has officially started.

-While I can't say the endgame is necessarily close, we're starting to get everything set up with the Final Eight nearing. There's only so much left to go, and I hope to make it as interesting as possible.

-Thanks for sticking with me once more. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you next chapter!