Night 1
"Just don't," Sinead breathes as she feels Jory's hand graze her shoulder once again. She can't take her eyes off of Chase and tears drip from her nose to mix with the drying blood across his chest. It's hard to see him so still, but Sinead can't bring herself to leave him. She's done enough of that already to last a lifetime.
Sinead wonders where he is now. She can remember people talking about the different places a person can go after they die, but Sinead doesn't want Chase to go there. She thinks back to the look they exchanged, the determination in his eyes that made Sinead believe that they could actually make it. Now, Chase is as far away as he could be and Sinead is just sitting here thinking about where his sweet smile and musical laughter have gone. She wonders if she'll go to the same place when she dies. It's almost a comfort to think that she will.
If she would have known their hug at the edge of the clearing was going to be their last, Sinead would have held on forever. She reaches to wipe his hair off his forehead, but it's so difficult to even touch him. Even just hours after his death, Chase feels different. His skin is cool and pale, and his eyes look like frosted glass. Another breath catches in her throat and Sinead closes her eyes, trying to tell Chase for the hundredth time that she's sorry.
"We can't stay here," Capri whispers as Jory comes once again to sit beside her. For the better part of the day, they've been sitting beside one of the sturdier trees in the area and about as far away from Sinead as they can get while keeping her in view. Just glancing in the direction of their ally's corpse makes Capri's stomach turn. She can't understand what they're still doing here when Chase is dead and they could still be in danger.
"I know," Jory says softly, gaze dropping as he catches Capri's eye. This isn't what she expected from the arena, all this waiting around and all the tears. At the back of her mind, the only solstice Capri could find in heading here was that boredom would be the last thing on her mind. The most action they've gotten since Chase's death was hearing voices whisper through the trees, but they were too far away to pose a threat. Capri almost wishes they would have been closer. At least then, they would have been forced to leave and she wouldn't be stuck here.
Capri chooses her next words carefully, putting as much regret into her tone as she can. She knows that Jory isn't going to want to talk about it, but Sinead is a hinderance. They're literally sitting targets right now, waiting for another shadow to pop out of the fog and take them too. "I don't think she's prepared for this."
"Her friend's dead," Jory says blankly. "Our friend is dead."
"He's been dead for hours," Capri reminds him, though she can't be sure how long it has actually been. She remembers learning in school that the moon travelled across the sky at night, eventually giving way to the sun to bring about the morning. The perfect full moon has not moved at all since she looked up at it the first time. Capri also isn't sure that she's imagining how massive it actually looks in the starless sky. Its gaze is enough to illuminate Jory's face in front of her, even through the fog swirling between the overhead branches.
"Do you have somewhere to be?" Jory snaps, his face hardening for a moment before it almost immediately droops again. He's different now than he ever was in the Capitol. Capri is trying to tell herself that this is not a bad thing, but the doubt is already creeping in. Jory's supposed to protect her, but he can't even tell his district partner to stop dropping tears over a long dead corpse.
"I'll go talk to her," Capri sighs.
Jory is certain that he doesn't mistake the flatness in Capri's voice as she leaves to make her way over to Sinead. He knows that she's right of course, they can't stay here forever, but it feels like such a small gift to his district partner to let her be with Chase for just a little while longer. Besides, the longer Sinead concentrates on him the less likely she is to notice the spray of blood across his belt line. Jory, however, finds it impossible not to see it. The fabric feels heavier there than anywhere else on his body and he has the overwhelming desire to drench his clothes in bleach just to get rid of the iron smell that still tingles in his nose.
He didn't actually think he could kill someone. Sure, Jory had thought about it almost every night in the Capitol and willed himself to believe that he could have what it takes to win. Deep down he often wondered if he would have the courage, but it turns out he didn't need to worry. He didn't know how easy it would be to go after her when he could hear the footsteps creeping around him and dead screams were already hanging in the air. The District 5 girl, whose bronzed eyes Jory can clearly see when he closes his own- dead because of him and Jory can't even lie and say that he hesitated.
"You have to let him go."
Sinead doesn't even turn around, by now already used to Jory's weak effort to get her to leave Chase again. Even if this time it's Capri here to 'help', it doesn't change her answer. It hurts so much more knowing that neither of them is still crying over him. Chase is right here, close enough that Sinead could touch him if she had the nerve, and her allies' eyes have run dry. He was a person, why is she the only one that can still see that?
"I already said no," Sinead snaps, not caring to drop the volume of her voice.
From her periphery, Sinead watches Capri drop down to her knees beside her and Chase. "He can't stay here; it's damp and there're bugs everywhere. His family will want something more than a pile of bones when he goes back to Ten. Let them take him home."
Sinead's hand reaches slightly for Chase's, but she recoils before their fingertips can meet again. She doesn't want him to go back home; Sinead wants Chase to stay here with her. Capri places her hand across Sinead's, but she can hardly feel the contact. Sinead's eyes lift to her ally's, pleading for some ounce of connection that will let her know that she's not alone in her grief.
As always, the slight tilt of Capri's head draws Sinead in and promises that she will be listening. Capri's hand rests against hers, and her lips pull down into an open frown that has to be sadness. Sinead feels as though she could reach for the misery in her ally, but as soon as they meet eyes that illusion melts away. They're so empty, and Sinead can't help but question whether they've been this way the whole time.
A rustling breezes wipes over Noemma's face and, though she grasps the spear tighter in her palm, she cannot help the prideful smile still stuck to her lips. The fear in her breath has not dissipated, in fact now walking through the dusty arena Noemma can feel it swelling up tenfold, but she no longer feels helpless. In a moment when things could have gone horribly wrong, Noemma had done what she needed to. She somehow saved her ally from becoming another round of cannon fire. It's not much, but to Noemma it feels like more than she could have dared to hope for.
Venice was wrong.
No matter how much Noemma doesn't want to put all the emphasis on her mentor, that's simply who she is. The opinions of other people are everything to her and Noemma can feel in her proud smile that she's done well by Venice and by Evi. Her confidence is tainted by the fear swirling in her lungs, but it hasn't disappeared yet. On the day when everyone expected her to fail, Noemma showed them all that she should not be overlooked.
Evi trudges between the withered trees, her foot occasionally catching on a stray root and forcing her to kick her shoe out of its grasp. Even hours later, the pounding in her heart refuses to leave Evi. How could she not have heard that volunteer sneaking up behind her? How did her instincts fail her so miserably that Evi was almost lying just as dead on the ground as Aberro? How did she become a damsel in distress and allow Noemma to become the hero in her story? Evi tightens her fists at her sides, further annoyed at the fact that she has no weapon to clutch in either one.
This time when Evi's boot lands amongst the twisted roots, she is unable to pull it out in time. Evi drops to the ground and dust cascades up around her from the soil. She groans and tries to pull herself back to her feet, but the root appears to have just tightened further around her ankle.
"Can I help?" Noemma asks from above Evi, the same closed grin on her face that she's had since they left the Cornucopia. Right now, it annoys Evi a hundred times more and that's a feat she didn't think was possible at this point.
She's glad that I needed her, Evi concludes. She's probably going to have a field day cutting me out of this stupid root too.
This isn't what Evi planned for their partnership. In fact, Evi had been almost hoping that there wouldn't need to be a partnership after this morning. However now, with Noemma holding a spear and a backpack filled with who knows what, Evi can't deny that she needs Noemma. That's not a feeling that she's used to having, and certainly not one that she is content to hold with her for another drawn out minute. Evi is a master of images, she just needs to conjure up something that better suits her and fast.
"Sorry," Evi says, cringing at her attempt at keeping the contempt from her voice. No matter how frustrated Evi is, Noemma doesn't seem like the type to respond well to screaming. That just means Evi will have to get creative. "I should have been watching where I was going. I'm still a little shaken up."
"From Jordan?" Noemma asks, and Evi's surprised that she's stupid enough to wonder what Evi is referring to. "I'm sorry about him. I didn't hurt you with the crate, right?"
"No," Evi says shyly, but from somewhere in her mind comes the perfect response. As the words slip out of her mouth, it's hard to keep the smirk off her face. "It's just what he said to me. You know, before you got there."
Noemma kneels down beside Evi, reaching automatically to help untangle her boot. Evi never mentioned Jordan talking to her, but she really looks upset. The smile drops from Noemma's lips before she can notice, and her voice falls to a whisper. "W-what did he say?"
"I didn't want to tell you," Evi says, looking down at the ground. "I'm sorry I brought it up."
"You can tell me," Noemma assures her, though she isn't completely sure that she wants to know. She can remember coming across the two of them, Evi with her back turned and Jordan standing over her. Could they have spoken before that? Why would Evi face away from him? The memory feels hazier than it did a moment ago and Noemma finds herself grasping for its pieces.
Evi hesitates another minute, her eyes lifting to meet Noemma's for an instant before they drop again. "He said he was going to kill me… so that he could get to you."
Though Delias walks at the front of the group with Aristona, he steps along the edge so that he can still see Ashara and Jordan with just a slight turn of his head. He is still uncertain about rejoining the group, but he wants to trust that Aristona knows what's best for them. The idea that Romello was acting alone felt ridiculous back at the Cornucopia, but as the hours have slipped by with nothing happening Delias is starting to consider the possibility. Still, he isn't going to let them out of his sights or near Aristona.
In Delias' eyes, Romello had every stupid reason to go for him after what happened in training but he didn't. Romello tried to make Aristona pay for something she hadn't done, only tried to help correct. She could have been killed on Delias' behalf and that doesn't sit well with him. Aristona is more than capable of looking after herself, but they're a team now. Delias doesn't plan on making the mistake of assuming either of them are safe.
"We could still go back," Aristona says, gingerly touching the dried blood under her eye. Somehow, the injury looks even worse now with the incoming swelling and the chipping blood stains.
Delias shakes his head and knows that, this time, he doesn't need words. After they left the Cornucopia so that the hovercrafts could collect the fallen bodies, Jordan pointed out how easily they could be seen from the darkness. To stay at the Cornucopia, where they could see nothing beyond the blinding stadium lights, was like an invitation to the other tributes. Delias knows that Aristona understands why they have to leave it behind, otherwise she wouldn't be leading the way, but he also knows that she's taking it harder than he expected.
At the back of the group, Jordan makes his steps just a bit longer until he catches up with Ashara. He's never felt close to the District 1 girl, in fact Jordan's not actually spoken to her much outside of a group setting, but something's bothering him about this whole situation. Only now are the District 2 tributes far enough ahead that Jordan feels like he can talk to her. Still, he wants to keep it brief. There's already enough tension going around without him adding to it.
"Did you know?" Jordan asks softly, keeping his neck pointing forwards just in case. He shouldn't feel this worried about speaking to another alliance member, but there's some shady shit going around right now. The last thing that Jordan wants is to be involved, even though deep down he already knows that he is.
"No," Ashara answers automatically. "Did you?"
"No," Jordan says, repeating her answer. He's never been very interested in the mind games that some of the people he's worked with obsess over, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't know the rules. If Ashara isn't going to admit to knowing anything, Jordan knows he can't be truthful. Just the fact that Jordan knew something about Romello's plan regarding District 2 is enough to tell him that Ashara has to have known.
Aristona breaks into a sprint before Ashara sees anything, but it doesn't take any of them long to react. Delias runs along the side with Jordan following directly behind Aristona. Ashara diverts to the opposite side, but the pursuit is over in a matter of seconds. It's not a tribute that they had been trying to catch, it's a corpse.
"We've doubled back," Aristona says sharply, looking down at the body.
"How do you know?" Ashara asks.
"I killed him earlier," Aristona tells her without turning her head. "At the beginning of the games. The Cornucopia isn't very far that way."
As soon as she points it out, Ashara can see the brightness beginning to stick out through the trees. It feels like they've been moving in a relatively straight line for most of the day, but with all the weaving between trees and around rock formations it was hard to be sure. Ashara lets out a long sigh. It feels like they've wasted an entire day, but it makes sense as to why they've failed to find any of the other tributes. They're not likely to return to the Cornucopia so soon unless by accident.
"Why is he still here?" Jordan asks after a long pause. Aristona and Ashara look up, both of their eyebrows dipped in silent question. All at once, Ashara puts the pieces together.
"We saw the hovercrafts come, right?" Ashara asks, but no one feels the need to answer her. They all remember seeing the Capitol vehicles come to take the bodies, but why did they leave this one behind? There is only one answer that feels even somewhat relevant.
"They're close," Aristona says, turning her attention immediately to Delias who nods.
"We won't find them," Jordan reasons. "I think we'll be relying a lot on random encounters and hearing tributes before we see them because of the fog. If they're close enough for us to catch them, they've definitely heard us already."
"We don't just give up," Aristona snaps, wiping away another patch of blood from her eyebrow. "That's not how we're going to do things."
"That's not what he's saying," Ashara interjects. "We just have to change up our strategy. The arena is nothing like we expected."
"We don't have to change anything," Aristona says quickly. "Now let's go, they could be getting away."
Aristona takes off at a jog before anyone can say anything further. Delias glances at them for a moment before he runs after her, but it's impossible to read anything in his flat expression. To Ashara, it feels stupid to just start running around the arena when they know almost nothing about what could be hiding in the shadows. Ashara looks at Jordan who just shakes his head.
"What else are we supposed to do?" Jordan sighs and adjusts his grip on the tall spear before following the pair. Ashara pulls a knife out of her pack and begrudgingly runs to catch up with them. The last thing she wants to be is a mindless follower, never questioning a word that her dear leader says, but it's just not smart to pick a fight at this point. They're going to have to adapt if they want to accomplish anything in this bizarre place, but of course Aristona wants to keep everything by the book.
She's delusional.
Erdan can't be sure whether the arena truly is darkening around him or if it that's just another trick of the eyes like the flickering shadows that keep appearing in his periphery. The only place Erdan has ever seen that even remotely counters this arena are the settings of his childhood nightmares. As they've continued walking, noises have spiraled up around them with every step. Bird calls, sharp winds, and what Erdan can only describe as muffled growling- all of it just as terrifying as it sounds. He can't describe how much he misses the silence that first greeted him past the clearing.
The sound of a nearby bird presses Erdan into Sadira, who pushes him away just as quickly. "Sorry, I, the bird-"
"Don't worry about it," Sadira says flatly. Erdan's eyes return to the ground and Sadira doesn't say anything further. She's been quiet, far too quiet for Erdan's liking even though he knows that it's selfish to think like that. Every attempt at conversation has been stonewalled almost immediately, but that doesn't mean that Erdan is willing to give up. If for no other reason that to keep his sanity, Erdan needs to get out of his head and that means talking.
"His name's not a cuss, you know," Erdan says with a weak smile. Sadira looks in his direction and the expression on her face is anything but amused.
"There's no reason to say it," Sadira says with a shake of her head. She can see why Erdan wants to talk, but she is simply not in the mood for it right now. At any other point in her life, Sadira would have been right there with him to make fun of their miserable predicament. Today, however, it's like a solid weight has been placed over her throat at any mention of her district partner.
"It was fast," Erdan says. He still hasn't repeated more than a few words about what he saw at the Cornucopia, but Erdan feels like Sadira must want to know. Even after his falling out with Capri, Erdan still wants to know what happened to her and whether she's even still alive. Plus, Rion and Sadira were close. The look on Sadira's face, however, tells Erdan that bringing it up might have been a mistake.
"I don't care," Sadira snaps.
Erdan's forehead wrinkles, and he stops in his tracks simply due to the harshness of her tone. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Then stop talking about him," Sadira says, clenching her fists at her sides. "He was stupid. He shouldn't have been that far in in the first place. He's dead now and that's all there is to it. Just forget about him."
Erdan pauses for another moment even as Sadira takes several steps forwards. Tears start to slip from his eyes, but Erdan quickly reaches up and brushes them away. "I can't."
Even though she hears Erdan's words, Sadira doesn't bother to acknowledge them and decides to just continue walking. Before long, she can hear Erdan following behind her again and Sadira relaxes just a little bit. She's not sure if she expected him to leave or what she would have done if he did. Sadira doesn't want to snap at him but that's all that seems to come out when she speaks.
When did she become so serious? The tension in her shoulders, the deep frown on her lips- Sadira can almost bet that if she had a mirror to look in, she wouldn't see herself anymore. She's almost certain that she would see her mother's face looking back at her with its annoyed expression and heavy eye bags.
"Woah," Erdan says from behind her. Sadira looks up just in time to keep herself from tripping over a sharp stone that juts out from the soil. She glances around and sees dozens more on the ground around her, all of them covered in wet moss and climbing up a steep hill ahead of them. The stones are so close together that it almost looks like a rock wall, just with a slightly gentler slope.
"What is it?" Erdan asks and Sadira can only shake her head in response. It doesn't look all that interesting, just a hill covered in stones, but after so many hours of seeing nothing but trees and fog it's hard to take her eyes off of it.
Sadira squints to try and see the top, but the dense fog doesn't allow it. Her first instinct is to climb and see what's up there, followed immediately by the dreadful feeling that doing so would be a mistake. Sadira shakes her head again; she's not the same adventurous person anymore but that shouldn't be a bad thing. She needs to think about survival no matter how much she wants to cling to her old self.
"Let's keep going," she says, nodding to the right where the trees continue on through the eerie forest.
"Shouldn't we go see what's up there?" Erdan asks.
"No," Sadira says and, without explanation, begins walking in the other direction.
Erdan can feel the tension in her response, but he doesn't know what else to do besides follow. It's clear to him that Sadira is hurting, and even clearer to Erdan that he is hurting, but that's not something he knows how to deal with. Erdan has never been the comforting type, he hasn't had to be. He lets out a slow breath and keeps his eyes down as they walk. Erdan thinks back to training when Rion came up to see if he was alright after Capri had abandoned him. He remembers the smile as they joked about the arena and the lightness that filled his chest as he forgot all about his district partner. It's hard not to wish Rion were here right now.
Doran just stares blankly up at the sky as fog swirls over Emilia's picture. He doesn't exactly remember when he stopped crying, but right now it feels like there are no more tears left to give. Even without her signature smile, Emilia just looks so hopeful as the anthem plays over her. The nervous joy in her eyes feels so far away when compared to the hollow agony in Doran's chest.
"I miss her too," Fitzroy whispers, laying a hand on Doran's back that is immediately shrugged off. Everything feels like too much and not enough at the same time. When no one is talking, Doran wonders if the air will simply collapse around them due to the desolation. When Fitzroy says even one word, it feels like Doran is being suffocated in his breath. Doran buries his face in his hands, but just as he expected no tears follow.
"It's her fault," Doran snaps, his eyes still shut in his open palms. That's the one feeling that keeps returning to him, the twisted resentment at the person who could have saved Emilia. The ally that she should have been able to count on, yet the one that left her behind to die alone. Doran had been right not to trust Chiara, but Emilia had been so sure that she was on their side. Emilia saw the best in her and Chiara betrayed that. Doran isn't sure whether to be glad that Chiara is gone or to wish that she were here now so he could strangle her himself.
"Today was hard," Fitzroy tries, but it's difficult to know what to say right now. He knows that Doran is hurting and that should give him prime opportunity to keep Doran on his side. However, Fitzroy doesn't want to disregard Chiara. She's not dead, that has just been proved by the anthem, and he hopes that means they'll see each other again. "I don't think she knew what she was doing."
"She saw what happened," Doran says, opening his eyes and looking over to Fitzroy with clenched teeth. "She didn't even care."
Fitzroy isn't immune to the sick feeling that came along with seeing Emilia's last moments, but he also isn't going to dwell on it. He knew that this had to happen even if he had hoped it would take a little more time. Fitzroy's main goal right now is to find Chiara again, wherever she is, no matter Doran's feelings. He's glad to have Doran, but he doesn't offer as much as Chiara. Fitzroy wants her.
"We don't know what she was thinking," Fitzroy says slowly, watching Doran's reaction carefully. He knows that he needs to tread lightly here, but he can't have Doran blaming Chiara. If everything goes to plan, Chiara will be back with them shortly. The last thing Fitzroy wants is for Doran to attack his district partner, though right now that is seeming more and more like a possibility.
"Whose side are you on?" Doran snaps, pressing his hand firmly into the dirt beside him. He can't believe that Fitzroy is trying to defend Chiara. She betrayed them, she betrayed Emilia.
"Our side," Fitzroy says confidently. "Emilia would want us to survive. We just have to figure out what that means now. I know you're hurting, I am too, but we have to keep going."
Doran opens his mouth to answer, but they both spring to their feet as a bone-chilling howl pierces through the branches. Fitzroy can feel his heart physically pounding against the back of his ribs and his entire body tenses as a melody of yelps follows. Across from him, Doran's eyes grow to the size of saucers as he too searches their surroundings.
"They don't sound close," Doran whispers, but there is an unmistakable question in his voice. For some reason, that sound scares Fitzroy more than the initial howl.
"Are you sure?" Fitzroy asks, but Doran can only shake his head in response.
Ira's feet ache in her new boots, but neither her nor Florian even mentions stopping for a rest. Though they have nowhere to go, it feels wrong to stay still for more than a few moments at a time. Her lips are dry, but Ira is not yet at the point of sipping from the streams that cross their path every few hours. To take anything from this eerie place feels like giving in, so no matter how uncomfortable she feels they keep walking.
It takes a long time, but finally things start to change around them as they continue on. The first thing that Ira notices is that the trees look different here. Rather than the withered corpses of aged tree trunks, these ones are thick and sturdy with low hanging branches; the type that children would swing from back in District 12. The second is the fog, which feels like it has lifted from the air and now only swirls around the massive moon above their heads.
The third thing she notices is the sound, an ear-splitting cry that sticks to her ears like warm honey and drenches her entire body in sweat within seconds. Ira reaches out for Florian's arm and, though he stiffens in her grip, he doesn't stop her. Ira's eyes flash towards his, but thankfully there is no need for words to communicate their terror. They both heard the howl and the frantic yelping that continues to follow. Ira tries to swallow down the lump in her throat, but its drier than if someone had stuffed old yarn into her mouth.
Florian's teeth begin to chatter, and Ira automatically places a hand against his chin, pleading silently with him not to make any noise. She doesn't know what kind of creature could be making this sound, but Ira also doesn't want to find out anytime soon. She turns her head around slowly, searching their surroundings for some clue as to where the animals could be coming from. For a moment, the yips disappear altogether. Then Ira sees them.
Run, Ira mouths down at Florian and there is no need for an explanation. Tears blur Florian's vision, but even through the haze he is able to see his district partner's gleaming vest in the moonlight. His heart speeds up as the yelping creatures get louder and the smell finally hits him- a mixture of wet fur and rotting meat that makes his stomach turn.
Florian's arms pump at his sides, but he knows instinctively that they aren't going to be able to outrun these things. From a quick glance, he counted at least four of them and they definitely were not coming slowly. He looks frantically around them, seeing the solution just a second before Ira shouts at him.
"Trees… climb… up…" Ira yells between heavy breaths. That's her only plan right now, betting that these horrifying creatures will not be able to climb after them if they can somehow make it up into the branches. Realistically, Ira isn't sure that Florian will know how to climb and she sure doesn't have much practice. However, it feels like their only chance.
Florian jumps up to try and reach an overhead branch, but his fingers slide roughly against the bark and he rolls to the ground. Ira pulls him up before Florian can even catch his breath, but he doesn't fight it. The smell is getting stronger and the cries are getting more excited. Florian doesn't have to be an animal expert to know that this is not a good thing.
"Now!" Florian yells, spotting a lower branch just before it disappears behind them. He doesn't have time to wait and see if she heard his signal; Florian grips the branch with every ounce of strength he has, even as a knot bites into the skin of his palm. He uses the tree trunk to press off of, bring his flailing legs up and over the branch just seconds later. Florian hears the snapping of a strong jaw below him as he clings breathlessly to the bark, but that's the least of his worries.
"Ira, jump!" Florian screams as his district partner continues running ahead of him. She reaches out and her fingertips brush across a nearby branch, but even Florian can see that she didn't cling on tight enough. Ira narrowly misses ending up on the forest floor and somehow keeps running. "Ira, come on!"
He can't remember a time when he has yelled like this, but for once he doesn't care to temper his voice. It's impossible to just watch as the dog-like creatures creep closer and closer, but Florian refuses to take his eyes off of her. Ira is almost out of view when she makes another jump for the trees, this time catching a grip strong enough to hold herself up.
The animal locks her foot in its jaw less than a second later.
Florian shouts her name as the enormous animal yanks Ira from the tree as if she weighed no more than a sac of feathers. The delighted yelps do nothing to cover the sickening shrieks that radiate all the way through Florian's body. He bites down on his fist, trying to maintain his grip as the spray of blood grows in front of him. Another scream pierces through the frenzied tearing and snarls, and Ira's name dies on his lips. Florian watches as one of them drags her farther from his tree, but by then the cries have stopped. He stares at the stains of red that streak the area for a moment longer before Florian is finally able to build up the courage to tear his eyes away.
Another sob hiccups in Chiara's throat as she holds herself tightly to the tree trunk. Distant yelps still echo in her mind, and the pounding of her heart against her ribs has not gone down even remotely. She had seen the large, wolfish creatures emerge from the fog just before their cries filled the murky air around her. Without that second of warning, Chiara isn't convinced that she would have made it into the tree in time. In fact, she can hardly remember scrambling up here in the first place.
Chiara brings her hand up to wipe away her frightened tears, losing her balance for just a moment before she clings to the thick branch once again. It's easier to see in this part of the arena, but even when she can't find the muttations waiting in the darkness Chiara refuses to climb back to the ground. There were six of them, but only two stayed behind to yip under her feet while the others disappeared further into the arena. They could easily return.
She shakily removes the bag from her shoulder, scavenging through it until she finds what she's looking for. A thick pile of rope that she ties carefully around her chest to hold her to the tree. Chiara is in no rush to get going, not after the screams that she heard earlier along with the frenzied howling. Tied into a tree feels about as safe as she could dare to hope for. At least if she manages to fall asleep for a few hours, she won't wake up to broken bones.
Chiara curses as the rest of her bag drops to the ground below, spilling its contents across the dusty soil. She smashes her fists against the tree trunk before collapsing once again into sobs. It's not that she expected the arena to be easy, no, but Chiara didn't realize how quickly everything would go to shit. In only a matter of hours, she's lost all of her allies, become stranded in a tree, and is possibly being hunted by a pack of creatures that have no business existing outside of her nightmares.
Not to mention that every time she closes her eyes, it's a toss up between seeing Emilia's blood-stained uniform or hearing the muttations fall suddenly silent as screams erupt around the arena. Chiara shakes the memory out of her head- their immediate calm and their bizarrely blank eyes- but it refuses to leave. She glances down at her bag and then to the rope tied at her waste before once again moving to wipe the tears that slip down her cheeks.
Chiara has always thought she was strong enough to withstand anything. Now, she's not so sure.
It's as dark as it has been since they entered the arena, but Levi and Verdana decided to stop and rest a few hours ago. Levi offered to take the first watch, but Verdana rejected the proposal almost immediately. Even though Levi knows that he should sleep, he is unable to get the faces of the fallen tributes out of his head.
It's good to think about them, Levi reminds himself. It means you care. There were moments yesterday and even earlier today that made Levi believe he didn't care anymore. He had been so terrified for himself that even thinking about Verdana's survival didn't bother him. It had scared Levi to think that no one else mattered but himself. It reminded him too much of his uncle.
"I can't stop thinking about them."
"You should be sleeping," Verdana says blankly, though the lack of surprise in her voice tells Levi that she already knew he was awake.
"I'm sorry," Levi says, rolling over to face her. Verdana is sitting cross legged against a tree, the shining metal of the gun in her lap the only distinguishable feature around her.
A few seconds pass and Levi closes his eyes again, trying desperately to fall asleep even though he knows that it's impossible at this point. He's not in any imminent danger, but that only causes his thoughts to flip to the others walking the forest around him. That's the way his life seems to be going- care about yourself until its convenient to care about someone else. Levi feels like such a hypocrite.
"It's good that they're gone," Verdana whispers and when Levi opens his eyes again, he can see her looking off into the treetops.
Levi feels a flash of confusion and maybe a little bit of anger at her statement, however, it dissipates mere seconds later. Is that not the same blatant flippantness that he felt back at the Cornucopia? When he was watching Verdana dive into crate after crate, did Levi not wish that the volunteers would find anyone but him even if it meant someone else would die? Here he is trying to judge Verdana for being glad it was someone else when Levi is just as guilty.
"If we want to win, they can't," Verdana continues, even though Levi has yet to say another word. The silence of the last few hours has been suffocating, and she can't seem to allow herself to stop talking now that the floodgates have opened. "You have to be happy about that."
"I don't have to be anything," Levi snaps, cringing at the harshness of his tone but unable to will himself to apologize. He might have thought exactly like her at the Cornucopia, or when they heard the sharp howling in the distance, but now when everything is calm he doesn't. Levi wants to feel bad for them, and right now he sure as hell does. He isn't certain that there is a difference, but he prays that there is. Levi doesn't want to be happy that anyone is gone. He clings to the possibility that he's different from what she is describing.
"I don't want to fight," Verdana says finally. Levi sounds just like her younger siblings when they couldn't stay up late, childish and selfish, but this isn't home anymore where the stakes are simply just having enough time for homework. If the last few hours waiting for Levi to fall asleep have taught Verdana anything, it's that she doesn't want to be alone in this place. "I just mean that we have to think realistically about this."
"I'm not going to be happy about someone being dead," Levi whispers, and Verdana has to lean forward to hear him.
"That's not what I meant," Verdana retorts.
"Okay," Levi says, shaking his head.
Verdana can feel her face growing warm, but she doesn't know what she could possibly have to be ashamed of. There is no reason that she shouldn't be glad to be six steps closer to going home. The fact that she and Levi are here right now isn't her fault; Verdana is just trying to survive. Morals aren't really high on her priority list at this point and Levi has no right to expect her to grieve for every dead tribute. "You need to focus. We're not just going to sit here and cry, waiting for someone else to beat us. We're not helpless and I won't let you pretend to be."
Levi flips over to face away from her and Verdana has the instant urge to turn him back towards her. They're supposed to be working together but so far it feels like Verdana is just dragging him around the arena while he mopes. "I'm not here to babysit. I care about you, Levi, but you have to fight for yourself. I'm not going to do that for you."
After several seconds of silence, Levi can hear Verdana let out another long breath and he wonders if she is going to keep going. Thankfully, the only sound that follows is the chirping of insects and the slight breeze moving through nearby leaves. Levi squeezes his eyes tight, trying to prevent himself from crying all over again, but he can't make himself agree with her. He refuses to be happy or accept that someone is dead for no good reason other than the Capitol's sick desires. He's scared and selfish, but that is a line he is not about to cross.
Jayde's eyes are so tired that they feel like they've been burned, but she still won't allow herself to stop. She heard the muttations, she heard the screaming- although at this point she can't be certain how many hours have passed since then. Every step Jayde takes echoes through the trees, but she is certain those are not the only sounds that she is hearing.
As it has since she first found the weapon, her gun is held tight in her palm to the point where Jayde can feel the indents it's leaving in her skin. The darkness, the hazy surroundings, and the aimless bursts of wind that sound just loud enough to actually be someone. No matter how exhausted Jayde is becoming or how heavy the boots feel on her feet, she can't stand the idea of stopping and just allowing someone to find her so easily.
Rustling from behind her makes Jayde spin around so quickly that she narrowly misses getting tangled in the crooked roots by her feet. Her finger is already on the trigger as she searches every tree within eye shot. For a moment, Jayde sees nothing and even the wind appears to have gone silent. Then, movement flickers from several feet away and Jayde sends a bullet piercing in that direction before she can even blink. Her heart rises into her throat as she waits for the inevitable scream, but the only sound that greets her is frantic, tiny footsteps as another animal scurries away.
"Get a grip," Jayde whispers to herself, lowering the gun back down to her side. It's far too early to already be losing her mind, but that does nothing to lower the anxiety still tensing her posture. It's hard to forget that there are still eightteen of them left. It's even harder to overlook the fact that seventeen of them will be hoping for her to die.
Would this have been easier with an alliance?
Jayde pushes away that weak part of her mind, reminding herself that there can't be a true alliance in this arena. Shaking that hand and agreeing not to kill each other can, at best, only be temporary. There would be nothing to stop an ally from stabbing her in the neck as she slept or stealing her gun right from under her nose. It's better to assume that anyone she sees is nothing but target practice. Jayde's not truly certain that she believes that, but it's the mindset she is trying to force herself into.
The only person that Jayde can trust isn't here with her, and it feels selfish to wish that he were. Luke has never been the smart one in their relationship, and Jayde can almost laugh at the idea that she definitely stands the best chance out of the two of them. The Capitol really chose the best fighter to send here and that's not something Jayde should be letting herself forget. If she makes it back home, she'll be sure to hold that over Luke's head for as long as they live. Jayde just has to make it there first.
19th: Ira Adley, District 12
A/N: Yeah, I didn't think giving a break chapter was fair with such a small Bloodbath so here we are with one more death being added to the toll. I've also introduced one of the main muttations of the story, our wolf pack, for your reading pleasure. I would also like to apologize to the submitter that lost their tribute this chapter, she'll be greatly missed.
Who do you think is safe right now?
Updates will be slightly less frequent in the coming weeks as I begin school again, but this story will still be tugging along I promise. I'm expecting to have around twelve arena chapters, but this is subject to change as I start to get into things and plans change.
As always, leave me your thoughts if you have time! I love to hear them!
~ Olive