Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
He wasn't sure what it was that snapped him out of that dozing in the morning; a feeling of vaguely being uncomfortable. Whatever it was he stood, sharply, and called for the girls. The hair at the back of his neck prickled. Noise began to echo from somewhere, screams and shouting. Arielle jerked up, her eyes wild and frantic. "What what what what?"
A sharp, shrill, child's scream split the air. Ilenia clutched her spear, spinning round. A moment later the screams ended and a cannon fired.
"Another one gone," Ilenia muttered.
Hyperion turned towards the trees. "We need to get moving."
Ilenia frowned, squinting up and down the beach. "You sure? This place is wide open; we can use it to ambush."
"This is a bad place," Hyperion replied.
And he needed to find Luciente.
There were only eight — seven, now — of them left now, how hard could it be? He'd run into Arielle twice!
"And that th- th- th- thing is still out there somewhere," whispered Arielle, scooping up her own backpack.
"The Gamemakers usually use mutts to drive tributes together these days," Ilenia said.
"It wasn't a mutt," Hyperion replied.
"I still say there was nothing there."
Arielle shuddered, glancing anxiously back at the section of trees where the stream broke free of the woodland. "Let's just get moving."
That, it turned out, was easier said than done. The trees were pressed so close together there was almost no space for them to get between. Arielle was small and thin, but he and Illenia were both taller and broader built, and in places had to turn sideways in order to squeeze through.
"Reckon they must be trying to drive tributes down onto the beach," gasped Ilenia, forcing her way through another gap behind Hyperion.
"Hell of a way to do it," he muttered, stopping and brushing his hand over a snapped low hanging branch. The remains of it still laid on the ground. He hefted his spear, glancing around them, but he was almost blind in the thick trees. It felt unnatural. The woodland had always been his home, not his prison.
"The further we get from that damn beach, the better."
Ilenia swore, catching herself against the nearest tree. "I swear, after all this I better get to kill you Ten."
"I'm the only reason you're alive Four."
"All the better."
They crashed their way clumsily through the trees, forcing themselves between the trunks, breaking open paths with their spears and in places forcing their backpacks through ahead of them.
There was a noise from somewhere behind, a crack, footsteps thumping against the ground. Ilenia flinched and spun round, squinting through the dark. There was no room to fight here, no space between the trees. Arielle cast a fearful look behind them, shook her head, and then took off, launching herself between the trees.
Coward.
"I think it's just one person," Ilenia said.
If Nathaniel was with Luciente, that left the girls from Twelve and Nine, and the boy from Two. Hyperion shoved his way through another cluster of trees.
As he did so there was a shimmer, a flash of yellow and a sense that Luciente was seeking him, calling him like at the stream.
Then it was gone and he was alone again.
The trees were too tight for them to run, but they made themselves keep moving, faster than was likely safe for most across this kind of terrain. For him it was second nature, but Ilenia was struggling, tripping and staggering. Hyperion forced her to keep pace, shoving his spear through the foliage to clear gaps, barely risking a glance over his shoulder to check on where the follower was.
And then they were free, nearly falling from surprise as the trees suddenly ended, opening up onto empty land. It was brushground, open and dusty, littered with a few bushes and sapling trees, leading up to a high dirt cliff, at the top of which he could see the glimmer of the forcefield.
They were at the edge of the arena.
Luciente was here somewhere too; he could sense it, feel it, hear her under his skin.
He could hear the tribute following crashing through the trees, less graceful even than himself and Ilenia, shoving and cursing at branches until at last he fell from the trees. It was the boy from Two, filthy dirty, smeared with brown much and red blood, his arena clothes torn, his hair messed and greasy. He didn't look much like the killing machine he'd been advertised as during the parade.
Hyperion lunged for him and the boy used his bow to deflect the worst of it, the tip of the spear cutting a long gash through his arm. Ilenia darted at him, shrieking, and he threw a chakram that narrowly missed her before drawing his arm back and driving the bow hard into the side of Hyperion's head. He staggered, momentarily dazed, stars flashing in his vision. The boy from Two hurled another chakram at Ilenia, and it sunk deep into the arm she raised in an attempt to shield herself. Hyperion lunged again, this time succeeding in driving the tip of the spear into the boy's thigh. He roared and grabbed at the shaft, shoving the spear back at Hyperion so hard it made him stumble and scrambling back into the trees before the shrieking Ilenia, now waving the chakram like a stone, could reach him.
"Get back here you bastard!" she roared, charging beyond the first line of trees. The density made the gap between them seem massive. She re-emerged swearing and kicking at the ground. "Fuck damn it!"
Hyperion shrugged, still finding his footing and breath after the other boy's blow. "There'll be another time."
Ilenia peeled back the bloodied sleeve of her sponsored jacket to probe her wounded arm, glancing up and down the gorge as she did so. "Where to next?"
Hyperion glanced either way, and again felt an echo of that pull, somewhere deep inside him. He raised his spear and jabbed it to the left. "That way."
