In my sleep, I am greeted with the sound of my father's whistle and a screaming child.
I can barely see anything in this dream, but I grope around in the dark mines, calling out for my father.
I am just rounding a corner when I hear it, the sound of the canary... and I see my father, the very moment he realizes the same thing. The pickaxe in his hands stalls against the rocks with a sudden heart-stopping understanding.
Then, there is water everywhere and I cannot breathe.
I jerk awake, gasping.
I look over at Peeta, choking up water as well.
There is water surrounding us.
Our truce members are just sputtering awake.
I stare out across the reservoir and know that it had been too good to be true. Of course the Gamemakers would not let us rest here. The water levels are rising, and not slowly, either.
I hear Johanna shout, struggling and splashing to her feet. Blight helps her, but she is all panic, her eyes wide and frightened.
But Johanna Mason is not my responsibility.
Peeta is.
He rises, taking my hand, and pulls me towards the water. Our only hope is to follow the underground river downwards and pray that it lets us out somewhere.
We start to swim, and while Peeta is not graceful, he manages to do it. Beetee is not far behind.
The water is cold, and the movements I make feel robotic, even if my mind feels frantic. I check to make sure I still have the fanny-pack attached to my waist. I want us both to tuck our night vision glasses away, but I worry that if we do that, we will miss an exit or an adversary coming. We just have to be careful and clutch them at any sign of risk.
I can hear Johanna's panic behind me and assume Blight must be pulling her along, but they do not have glasses and must just be following the sounds of our splashing. I wonder at what point he will consider Johanna too big of a burden and leave her for herself.
My hands are aching from the cold. As we approach the dip on the far side of the reservoir, I realize it is a waterfall. The water's current picks up and I lose my grip on Peeta's hand.
Peeta calls my name as we lose grasp and fall over the edge.
For a minute, as I fall, I think that it might just be that simple to escape the Gamemaker's trap, but then I hear a cannon shot.
I do not know who it is, but I can still hear Peeta calling for me. At least, I know it is not him, and that is all that matters.
When I crash into the river below the waterfall, I swim. It was not too far of a fall, nor were there any treacherous rocks below. I follow the current and rear my head back often to see if there are any exits or dry land. From what I can see, there is nothing but the water, roaring forward.
"Keep swimming!" I shout, hoping Peeta will hear me and know I am alive.
It is difficult to swim when I have to clutch the glasses to my face, but I manage enough. Every chance I get, I gasp for air and look around. As far as I can see, the water simply barrels down its own tunnel, leading nowhere. I wonder if there will be an end. I wonder if we will all die.
At some point, there is no room to surface. There is only water and tunnel above us. I press my hand desperately against the rock ceiling, hoping for air. My lungs are screaming. I have no idea if I can even hear a cannon shot underwater.
Peeta could be dead.
Still, I do not take my glasses off. I hold them on my face with one hand and swim forward with my other.
Finally, there is a pocket of air, just when I thought my lungs would burst. I break surface and gasp. At the same time, someone grabs my arm.
They struggle against me and pull me under.
I whip around and see Johanna's face.
Her fingernails cut into my wrist.
I struggle with Johanna. I cannot do it with one hand, and I have to let go of the glasses just to pry at her grip on me. I lose my glasses to the current within seconds, but finally I manage a kick to Johanna's face, breaking her grasp on me. I push off of her and break the surface again.
I cannot see. I can hardly catch my breath.
I just barely manage to hear Peeta call out to me. "Katniss, go right! To your right! There is dry land, reach out your hand!"
"Peeta," a sudden voice shouts. "Look out!"
Finnick.
"Mags, get her," Finnick shouts next, and just as I am passing the rocks, my hand extended, another's grasps mine and pulls me free of the current.
It is a frail hand with a surprising amount of strength. As I climb onto the rocks, Mags' dry, warm body is crouched next to mine. She mutters something to me, and I feel a sharp stab of plastic on my cheek, then it shifts, and the glasses settle on my nose.
I blink a few times to clear my vision and see that we are not alone.
Enorbaria and Finnick are locked in combat not twenty feet away, while Johanna claws her way onto the rocks a little ways away from Mags and I. Peeta supports a wheezing Beetee, with a dead Cashmere at their feet.
Finally, inevitably my eyes swing back towards Mags.
"Why… would you… your glasses..."
She pats my cheek and then stands.
I am about to argue, but the spear comes whizzing out of nowhere, and Mags crumbles around it. I barely have time to catch her, the blood spilling from the wound at a startling rate. Brutus' brutish laughter rings against the cave walls along with her cannon shot departure.
Brutus stands at the crest of a tunnel to my right. He has one spear left.
I lay Mags on the rocks, rising to my feet. I am walking towards him at first, water dripping from my face, and then I am running.
I pull the knife from my belt at the last second.
Brutus smiles at me, spear coiling with his arm.
I should be scared, but the adrenaline pounds inside my ears. Brutus is an overgrown child, I realize, looking at the smile on his face. He's enjoying this, these Games. All of this is a game to him, and it frustrates me. I loathe him for that, for enjoying the deaths of these good people almost as much as the Capitol does.
I get too close for a feasible spear throw and knock it aside, swinging the knife towards his chest. He deflects the knife, but he does not expect me to drop it at the last second and wind my arm for a punch. My fist hits him across the face before either of us have time to react.
I regret it instantly. My hand throbs, but it has made him stumble. I pick the knife up, meaning to fatally wound him, when I hear Finnick behind me shout: "Move, Katniss!"
I step aside, just in time for his trident to puncture Brutus' chest.
Brutus' cannon shot draws the attention of Enorbaria and Gloss.
Enorbaria, who had been combatting with Finnick, looks eager to fight him now that he has thrown his trident, but I reach for the spear Brutus dropped. I aim it towards her, and it is enough to stall her.
Peeta, though weaponless, looms towards the fight.
They must know they are outnumbered. Without a second thought, Gloss slips into a nearby tunnel, urging Enorbaria to follow, and though I am tempted to throw the spear at Enorbaria's back, my hand is shaking so badly from the punch that I know I would not hit her even if I tried.
Peeta instantly turns back to Beetee. I glance over to where Mags body had been, but it has already disappeared.
Finnick removes his sweater to take off the undershirt beneath it. He offers the undershirt to Peeta to pack the vicious knife wound across Beetee's back.
"No," Beetee says, pushing Peeta's hands away. "Leave me here. This is best."
"You're not giving up that easily," Peeta says.
"You're a victor," someone behind me says, voice harsh. "Act like one."
Finnick moves to Johanna's side. She stands with a list, her face flushed and feverish, and she flinches away from Finnick, until he reassures her that it is just him. Even without the glasses, Johanna manages to glare at all of us, but Finnick merely moves her towards the wall to our right and lowers her to the ground there.
Finnick grimaces at me... it is a greeting, I realize.
I look away. He may not think it, but I wonder to myself if Mags might have lived if she had not given me her night vision glasses.
I move to Peeta's side and look at Beetee's wound. It is extensive, but not very deep.
We get some water into him from the river. Again, there is no way to purify it, no way of starting a fire. We just have to hope the water is not full of parasites or bacteria.
I glance over at Finnick and Johanna. He attempts to wrap her thigh wound with a strip of Johanna's own undershirt.
The best we can do for Beetee is to help him settle more comfortably on the rock floor and use Finnick's undershirt to keep pressure on his wound until it stops bleeding.
Finnick sits near Johanna. He utters something of how he ended up here; the happenings after he lost Peeta and I.
Johanna mumbles something I do not catch, but Blight's name is in it, and she seems upset, for a fleeting moment.
"I'm so sorry, Johanna" says Finnick.
It takes me a moment to place the true sympathy in his voice. I realize that Beetee, Finnick, and Johanna have all lost their district partners already. I glance over at Peeta, the guilt sitting heavily in my stomach.
Finnick has killed two tributes for me with his trident. He helped lower me into the pit. Mags pulled me from the river and gave me her night vision glasses. Finnick was just saying how the Careers had chased them to the river, but I suspect that is not true. Perhaps he was scouting for it… but why? To find Peeta and I? The only hint he would have gone off of was my mention of hearing the water… would that have been enough for him to do that? And to what end?
If I was asked to answer that before these Games, I would have said he was searching for us in order to pick us off. But now – well now I am unsure. Finnick scouting for us cannot merely have been to reconnect the alliance.
There has to be some reason.
I glance over at him and Johanna. They speak softly, but of nothing important. Every once in a while, Finnick's eyes will flicker to Beetee. He seems worried, but that could simply be because of Beetee's wound.
Until Finnick's eyes move towards me and catch me staring. His smile is sudden, but… guilty. I frown back at him.
"We cannot stay here long," I say. "The Careers will come back, and with more weapons. Plus we need to find food. I do not think we will survive much longer without a food source."
"You're right," says Finnick. "But where should we go?"
The outcrop of rock we sit on borders the river, which continues downwards. There are three tunnel entrances to choose from. The tunnel closest to the left was where the Careers fled, so I instantly dismiss it. The two others do not seem distinct from each other.
I shrug.
"How about the right one," says Peeta.
No one disagrees with him.
We wait a while before heading out, to give us a chance to prepare. Our clothes are still damp, and Finnick insists we wrap Johanna's wound. While I wait for them, I check my fanny pack. The knife is still there, plus the mostly empty thermos. I offer the liquid to Beetee. He drinks it, but reluctantly, and I am glad to see it return some color to his face.
Finnick still has his net and trident, and an awl which he offers to Peeta. His clothes are in much better shape then the rest of us.
While I am watching him prepare his weapons, Finnick shoots me an apologetic look. "I did not bring your bow with me."
"That's alright," I say.
He had no way of knowing if he would find me again, and the weapon is useless to him, so it is reasonable to leave it behind.
Johanna attempts to stand after wrapping her thigh wound, but struggles. Finnick offers her his arm.
I frown again. I wish we could leave her behind. I know I cannot kill her, not when Finnick allies himself so closely with her. I have not forgotten the way she pulled me back into the water. I cannot say for sure it was in an attempt to kill me or merely the effects of her fever, or Johanna struggling to swim. It does nothing to help me trust her. Plus, as far as alliance members go, taking on two injured ones is not the smartest move.
Before I can talk myself out of our little alliance, my thoughts are interrupted by Finnick's voice.
"Look, a parachute!"
I locate it easily. The silver fabric looks dull in the darkness of the arena. No one reaches for it.
"Whose is it, do you think?" I ask.
"No telling," says Finnick.
It turns out to be a pile of bite-sized square-shaped rolls. Finnick turns the breads over in his hands, examining their crusts. A bit too possessively. It's not necessary. It's got that green tint from seaweed that the bread from District 4 always has. We all know it's his. Maybe he's just realized how precious it is, and that he may never see another loaf again. Maybe some memory of Mags is associated with the crust. But all he says is, "Guess this is what we have to eat."
The rolls are salty. There were twenty-four of them, and we split them among ourselves with five to each. The four left over are for later, and no one wants to voice that's the perfect amount if one of us happens to be lost in that time. We all drink from the river water, then sit in silence.
Now with full bellies, we all sit back.
"Maybe we will wait awhile, to rest, before we move," says Beetee. His eyes look heavy.
I cannot blame him for being tired after all the blood loss, but still I say, "Only a while, not too long."
To keep my hands busy in that time, I pull down some of the vines and weave them together aimlessly. Finnick joins me in this pursuit but manages to actually create things. Johanna and Beetee, both without their night vision glasses, take the time to nap.
Peeta paces.
It seems unlike him, but I imagine he is just cold or bored and I choose not to question it.
How long have we been in the arena? I know a day must have pasted by now. How far are we into the second day? I calculate quickly how many cannon shots there have been: twelve. Twelve of us are dead. Twelve alive. Somewhere in these tunnels, seven tributes have concealed themselves. Two of which are the remaining Careers.
So far, the arena around us has seemed lifeless. The darkness is obsolete and the cold, thin air makes it feel as if nothing could live here, other than damp moss and rubbery vines. I wonder if there is a part of these tunnels that harbors life, some animals, or real plants. Someplace that sunlight is getting in…
Then, in the distance, comes screaming. It's impossible to know which tunnel it echoes from.
The sound of it is so loud that Johanna is jerked from sleep, the following cannon shot waking Beetee as well.
Thirteen, I think.
Beetee does not settle after that. He is sweaty, and bewildered. Peeta goes to him, but Finnick pushes him aside and takes Beetee's hand instead. Finnick brushes the man's forehead with his other hand.
"A fever," says Finnick.
Beetee wheezes, and mutters, "The clock…"
"Shh," says Finnick. "You need to rest."
Beetee eventually nods off.
Finnick turns to Peeta and I. His eyes are troubled. "I do not know how we can be on the move with him like this. Can we wait the night?"
Peeta frowns, and looks to me, expecting me to answer.
I feel like it would be foolish to stay, but I also did not want to abandon Finnick or Beetee if we chose to continue on without them. After what happened to Mags, I decide staying the night at Finnick's request is the least I could do.
"We will stay," I say. "But as soon as Beetee is able, we have to move."
Finnick manages a smile in response, but it does not reach his eyes.