[37] - August

The sun rises over the Arena, bringing a new day with it. It's our thirteenth day in this desert, and it'll likely be one of our last.

"How's your leg feeling?" Rochelle asks as she eats a small snack from her bag. She was up all night, applying cream to my leg until I was strong enough to do it myself, but she doesn't seem to be tired at all.

"Much better," I say with a small smile. Rochelle reaches over, pulling my pants up to expose my leg. My lower leg is gruesome - the scar tissue is tight and shiny, making it look almost artificial. It's no longer an open wound, though, and that's something I should be grateful for.

"Do you think you're strong enough to walk?" Rochelle asks as I cover my leg.

"I hope so," I sigh. "I'll have to walk soon, won't I?"

I think Rochelle knows what I mean. Today's our thirteenth day in here, and only five tributes remain. The end of the Games is coming soon, and I'll need my leg to be healed if I want any chance of survival; Rochelle might not be letting her anxiety show, but I can tell from the way that she's acting that she knows that the end is approaching. Still, she brushes me away.

"You'll have to walk now, actually," she says with a laugh. "We need to get in the shade."

I help Rochelle pack our belongings into our bags. I maneuver my body until I'm kneeling, and I push on my strong leg until I'm standing. Rochelle watches me skeptically as I attempt to take a few steps. I wince as I put weight on my weak leg - it feels like the lower half of the leg is about to snap in half.

"Do you need help?" Rochelle asks, shouldering her bag.

"I'm okay," I say, trying not the let the pain show in my voice. "Let's go to that dune over there."

Rochelle looks at me for a moment before walking over to me and putting her arm around my back.

"Come on," she says. "Let's go."

Rochelle holds me up as I hobble on my good leg. Luckily, it's a short walk to the nearby dune.

"I think it's time for some more healing cream," I groan as Rochelle sets down our bags. She reaches into the smallest one, pulling out the metal can and popping the lid open.

"I've got it," she says when I object. "Just sit back and rest."

"I really hope my leg isn't going to be like this for too long," I huff. "A lot depends on it."

"Right," Rochelle says, focused on my leg. "Well, hopefully, this stuff will do the trick."

Finally, I've had enough. I'm sick of the weird tension that's been floating around between Rochelle and me all morning; we both know that the end of the Games is near, so why won't Rochelle acknowledge that fact?

"The end is coming, Rochelle," I sigh. "I can feel it."

Rochelle pauses, glancing up at me. When she catches my gaze, she sits up to face me.

"I really don't think so, August," she says, shaking her head. "I mean, when do they usually end the Games? There are still five of us in here."

"It's not the same every year, but they usually end it when there are four tributes left," I tell her.

"Then we should be fine, August. Really, I think that you're just vulnerable right now, and you're thinking about the worst-case scenarios. You never know what the Gamemakers are thinking - I mean, did you expect that sandstorm yesterday?"

Ouch, Rochelle, thanks for the reminder. Still, I'm not convinced. "I've watched the Games more than you have, and you know that," I remind her. "The end is coming soon, I can feel it. The time just feels right for it. We need to be prepared."

Rochelle rolls her eyes a bit. "Well, I tried to get you to make a plan..."

"We're a team, Rochelle," I say. "I can't do everything on my own."

Rochelle throws her hands in the air. "You just said it - you watch the Games more than I do," she says, exasperated. "I'm not going to tell you what to do to win the Games - you clearly know more than me."

"Obviously," I say. "But some suggestions would be nice."

Rochelle exhales for a minute, staring down at my leg. "Okay," she says, thinking for a moment. "Well, your biggest competition is Princess, obviously. If you want to beat her, you should do everything you can to throw her off. If all five of us are brought together, you'll also have to worry about Garrick and Calder, though. The best thing for you to do would be to kill Garrick - he's the weakest. If you can manipulate the situation so that Princess has no choice but to fight Calder, then she might be thrown off, since she'll have to kill her partner."

"I doubt it," I muse. "They were never very close."

"Well, even if it throws her off a little bit, that could make a big difference," Rochelle insists. "With those two out of the way, you'll face Princess. I will hide nearby - you can pretend that you killed me, and if something goes wrong, I'll be there to help you."

I can tell that Rochelle is deliberately trying to avoid talking about her own death. We both know that it's coming - I doubt she could even beat Garrick in a fight - but I think we both know that her death is inevitable. The only unfortunate part of her plan is that I'll have to be the one to kill her - if I'm able to kill Princess without Rochelle's help, which is reasonably likely, the only person left between me and crown will be Rochelle. I think that it's only fair, though. Not only will I have to kill Princess to win the Games, but I'll have to kill Rochelle as well. I don't know which will be harder.

"Perfect," I tell Rochelle. "Honestly, that sounds great. You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, you know."

Rochelle just smiles as she continues applying cream to my leg. "I mean, it's just common sense," she says. "You want to have all the advantages you can get. You can do whatever you want, though, really."

"Right," I sigh, lying against the sand. "In the end, it doesn't really matter what we do, does it? The Gamemakers will do what they want, and we'll have to do everything we can to stay alive. In the end, the person who is the most determined to survive will be the one to do so. That's how it usually goes."

Rochelle presses her fingers against my leg too hard as she adds more cream, and I wince.

"And I assume that would be you," Rochelle says.

"I hope so." After all these years of waiting for this moment, I would hope that I would be the most determined to win, right?

"Well, how badly does Princess want to win?" Rochelle asks. "Honestly."

"Not as badly as me," I reassure her. "I think she wants to win, obviously, but I don't think she has the determination to do it. She's always gotten what she's wanted her whole life, but I don't think she's ever had to work so hard for something like she has in here. She might have the desire to win, but we all do, don't we?"

"That's a relief to hear," Rochelle says. She finally re-seals the healing cream, putting it back in her bag. "When you put it that way, I think you have an even better shot."

I never thought about it before, but I do think that I have an even better shot against Princess - and everyone else - than I thought. Princess might have the strength and the confidence to beat me, but I don't think she truly wants it as much as I do. I'm sure that Calder has the determination needed to win - probably more than Princess, honestly - but he doesn't have the skill to outmatch me, and I'm sure that Garrick won't have the willpower or the skill to take me down.

I've never felt so ready for anything in my life. The hours are counting down until the Games come to a close. Mere hours until five tributes are narrowed down to one, and a twenty-five-year-old dream is fulfilled.

A/N - Two more chapters until the Games are over! Right now I'm working on all the post-Games chapters to make sure this story wraps up the way I want it to, and then it'll be time to start thinking about the next story...

~S