CHAPTER EIGHT - Yew

JOHANNA

A/N – I really struggled writing this chapter, I couldn't bring myself to start the Games yet because I've not been in the best mental state recently, so it's not my best writing. Please don't be too harsh.

I'm on the verge of collapse. I can feel it in my limbs, as all my muscles go weak and my hands start to tremble uncontrollably. Hazel catches me, almost instinctively, wrapping her arms around my shoulder and holding me upright for a moment to steady me. We stand like that for a moment, her rubbing circles in my back while I gasp for as much oxygen I can, as if it's the last time I'll get enough breath to fill my lungs. Perhaps it will be.

I don't know how much time passes, but Hazel begins to lead me to my room. We go slowly; sometimes we have to stop in order for me to steady myself, or to calm down my hitching breaths, but eventually we get there. She instructs me into the shower to wash off the remainder of the makeup smeared on my face, while she sets out to clean up my room.

In the shower, I close my eyes, cranking up the temperature to something near unbearably hot to ward off the shivering. Without much strength to stand, I sit on the floor for what feels like hours, letting myself entirely phase out of existence. Is this the last time I'll feel warmth? Two years ago, the arena was in the middle of an endless desert. Does that mean that this year, they'll throw us in some frigid tundra? Despite the heat, I wrap my arms tightly around myself. It feels like every little bit of anxiety that I should have been experiencing all week has condensed itself into this one, exact moment. Am I supposed to be feeling this way, and if I am, what's wrong with me that I haven't until now?

Eventually I feel strong enough to stand and wrap myself in a robe. Outside the bathroom, Hazel's tidied up – redone my half-made bedsheets and cleaned up the dirty plates from my first night in the Capitol.

"What does it matter?" I ask, when I see it. "I won't be coming back here after tonight."

"Depending on your physical and mental state coming out of the arena, you might spend a night or two here before your final interview."

"I might not be coming back here at all."

Hazel looks at me sharply. "Don't think like that."

"Well what am I supposed to think?"

"An hour ago, you were yelling at me that you were going to be victor, and how dare I even consider the opposite. Johanna, I understand the confusion, but…"

"Stop patronising me!" I snap. Because she's right, I am confused. My mind keeps on going back between the two; certainty that I'm going to live, and certainty that I will die. But the thought of being called out on it fills me with rage. "You've been doing this all week, acting as if you know so much better than me! You're no better than me; you've let all your other tributes die."

It's unfair. I can see it in her eyes the second the words leave my lips, and I regret them, but there's no way I'm going to take them back. She sits down on the bed.

"I have to phone their families, you know?" She says, after a while. "When they die. Sometimes they don't know. They look away from the television screen just long enough to miss their child or their sibling die, and it's up to me to let them know."

I imagine Hazel on the phone with my father, if I were to die. The thought sends a chill up my spine.

"Why don't they do it?" I ask. "The Capitol, I mean."

She looks up, as if she's worried about unseen cameras or microphones, and then sighs. "To remind us that it's our fault that those tributes are dead. That it's mine."

There's a long silence.

"I'm not going to sleep tonight, am I?"

Hazel shakes her head. "No, you're not. Maybe in the early hours of the morning, if you can manage it. It'd be good if you did. But in the meantime, is there anything you want to do?"

I think. Talking doesn't seem like the best course of action, considering the second I open my mouth I feel like I'm about to throw up. But just being sat there, letting my mind sink into worse and worse scenarios feels even worse. I feel like no matter what I do, my thoughts are going to be stuck on tomorrow.

"I'd better at least try to close my eyes," I say. Hazel frowns at me, but eventually nods and stands up.

"Do you want me to stay?"

I shake my head.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," she says. "Before they send you off. But if there's anything you need to say-"

"I'll be fine." I'm still feeling a little bitter, and a bit embarrassed at my breakdown. Rationally, I know I'll regret wanting to be alone once I'm in the arena, but I right now, I can't imagine anything better.

"Alright. Goodnight Johanna," she stands and walks to the door. She lingers for a bit, as if she wants to say something, but decides against it. The door closes.

I reach for the remote.

I wasn't going to watch it with her around, I'm not that cruel, but my curiosity gets the better of me. If I die, I'll never get to find out what happened, and it's related enough to my own upcoming games that it'll be enough to distract me from the impending dread that pools in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't watch anything else; it would just feel futile. This might, at the very least, be useful.

The camera tracks someone unfamiliar; the girl from Eleven, according to the graphic under the screen. We see her as her hands wring tightly around her district token and the platform rises, giving way to darkness, and then, to the natural light of the outdoors.

The cornucopia sits in the centre of a vale. On all two of the four sides, jagged, rocky terrain looms, and just to the left of where the tributes are rounded is a river. Its rapids run wildly into the distance of the north and south of the cornucopia, obscured by the thick fog that seems to linger heavily in the air. It's only through the light of the countdown timer that all the tributes are visible, and I know from memory that the fog only succeeded in disorienting the children foolish enough to enter the bloodbath.

The camera pans onto Hazel. She, like the rest of the tributes, is dressed in a heavy grey jacket and long, form fitting trousers. Her hair is loose, too short to tie up, and on her left pointer finger is a simple wooden band. I frown. I don't remember ever seeing her wear that around me.

The countdown timer has just arrived forty seconds, and Hazel is looking wildly around the group of tributes. Her eyes fix on a boy with long dark hair – Felicis – and I see her eyes widen in relief. He makes some kind of gesture with his palm to her, and she replies with one of her own. Some kind of code.

It's smart, I'll give her that. It's not as smart – in my mind, at least – when the gong sounds and Hazel goes running right into the cornucopia. My breath hitches, even though I know she'll live through it, but I'm reminded quickly of why Hazel won her Games; her speed. She's made it halfway there, grabbed two medium-sized packs, and is already following Felicis out before half the Careers have even grabbed weapons. She's not all that lucky though – running smack into another tribute, the boy from Three as he makes his way inwards. They both go falling to the ground, and noticing her two bags, he goes to reach for one of them. Hazel gives him an anxious kick to the stomach and scampers up, managing to run just out of eyeline of the girl from Four, who's armed with a bow and arrow and has begun to shoot. The boy from Three isn't so lucky.

Felicis has been hanging around the edge, and Hazel doesn't even bother to stop running when she reaches him. Instead she chucks a backpack at him and they make their way down some kind of ravine. It's steep and they have to descend down on a near vertical slope at one point, but everyone from Seven knows how to climb, and a tree and a rock wall aren't all that different when it comes down to it. They seem to take a quick far too soon than is responsible, but the timer at the bottom of the screen assures me that they'd been travelling for an hour, and it's down to the editing.

As if right on cue, thirteen canons sound. More than half the tributes down in an hour's time period. I'm about to turn in bewilderment to see if I can research what happened, but the Capitol editors are good at their jobs, and the screen does a hard cut to the fighting at the cornucopia. Turns out, even small looking rocks can make good weapons for tributes who aren't brave enough to dare into the thick of things, but smart enough to attack those heading out of it.

Hazel and Felicis check their packs; and I know for a fact that they've had a lucky break when I see the full canteens of water and dried fruit. They haven't lucked-out with any sleeping bags, though they do have two blankets and a box of matches between them. Hazel looks at the matches hesitantly, but Felicis' face breaks out into a smile.

"There's no way anyone can see the smoke when the terrain is so jagged," he says, pointing to the highs and lows of the rock formations around them. "We can cook food at dusk."

"It'll be cold at night," Hazel says. "And I wouldn't be surprised if they try to rain us out at one point."

"Come on, Haz," Felicis tries a grin. "Look on the bright side, we've got stuff to use! We're alive! And not a tree in sight! Don't tell me you weren't at least a little sick and tired of trees?"

Hazel's lips curl into a small smile. "You're not wrong."

They split up the rest of their packs, which are mostly even, except a small glass vial, which Hazel opts to keep. There's another death that night – the girl from Six risks trying to catch a fish from the river and gets swept away by the current – but the Careers appear satiated by their haul at the bloodbath and don't seem to feel the need to go hunting. All of them make it through the day, leaving just Hazel and Felicis, the boy from Twelve and the girl from Three as the remaining tributes. The next few days go fairly uneventfully; the Career pack catches up with the boy and he gets hacked up with a machete.

Hazel and Felicis do well for themselves. Felicis is right about the fire, and they're able to capture and cook a hare, which they feast on for the next two days. They ration their water, even though there's the river nearby, and on the third day they stumble on what appears to be a mountain lion. It's a tense moment, but Hazel chucks some rocks behind it and they break away while it's distracted. For the most part, the pair spend most of the time making joking, easy conversation with each other. While most of it is for the cameras, you can really tell that they're friends.

It's on the fourth day that things really seem to go wrong. Felicis is on watch, and when the sun creeps over the horizon, the world around them seems covered in a thick, blurry layer of fog. At first, I think there's something wrong with the cameras, but he bats the air with his hands and shakes Hazel awake. They look around in confusion, and then the coughing begins.

"What do you think it is?" Felicis asks.

"Some kind of poison," Hazel's already gathering their things. "They're probably trying to get us closer together. Come on, let's move. We might be able to find a real hiding spot before the other's arrive."

They start to head back up in the direction of the Cornucopia. I don't know if their slow movements are to carefully avoid tumbling down a rock slope in the fog, or because whatever's in the air has slowed their movements. The wall of fog dissipates after about an hour, when they near the river. Looking around, it appears as though nobody's nearby. The Cornucopia is bone-dry, but the Careers have made their base elsewhere, and if there's anyone else, they remain well hidden. They aren't in much of a state to be cautious though, both woozy from the toxins in the air. It's not long after they arrive that a canon fires, and both exchange a look, but say nothing. They share the last of Felicis' water to clear out their throats, and Hazel remains on watch while he fills up both their bottles.

"Hey Haz," he says. "Do you see that over there?"

She follows his eyeline to further down the valley, where there's a steep drop downwards. The area's not as foggy as it was on the first day, and they can just see the peaks of green.

"What do you think it is? A forest?"

"Let's go! There's got to be more shelter in there than where we were!"

"Hold on – don't you think it's a bit suspect? That's probably where all the other tributes are, and even if it isn't, this is where we're supposed to go. It's probably no good."

"If anything, we need to get there first, before all the others arrive," Felicis says. "We can't stay here; they'll be here soon, and there'll be a fight. Plus, I'm not going back in that fog."

"I understand that, but come on," Hazel tries to keep her voice down. "It's not safe."

"It's the Hunger Games, Haz," Felicis says. "Nothing's safe."

He's not wrong. Hazel spends a moment hesitating, but some rustling in the trees spooks her, and she jogs on after him. They make quick time, because they've barely reached the edge of the trees when the Career pack comes bursting from the highlands, though the dense fog, and onto the banks of the river. They're gasping for air, and one of them throws up on the side.

"See, they were much further in than we were," Felicis says. "Come on, we've got a head start."

And so, they move through the woods. It's not the normal kind; on either side the rocky terrain looms so that the trees are encased in some kind of valley. But still, the pair feel more at ease than they have in the past few days. They walk for an hour or two, before Felicis stops and points at something.

"Hey, look, a yew tree," he says. "Just like your name."

"Huh. Well, let's steer clear, that stuff could kill you."

"As if I don't know that. Seriously, Haz, who do you take me for?"

Felicis steps away from the tree and towards the clearing, which is enough for the person who's been tracking them to get a clear shot. The flaming arrow pierces right through his eye.

"Felicis!" Hazel lets out some kind of primal scream, and her feet shuffle towards him, but she's too shocked to catch him. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is some kind of gurgle. A trickle of thick, dark blood comes out of his lips, and Hazel stares at him in horror. A second arrow comes flying, piercing him right in the gut. There's no saving him now.

Hazel seems locked in place for a moment, her eyes darting from her now-convulsing friend to a few yards back, where just one tribute stands; the girl from Four. Her pupils are so wide it looks like her whole eyes are black, and for a moment, she looks like she's about to charge the girl.

But then her assailant lights some kind of match and sets the arrowhead ablaze. And, muttering some kind of broken apology to her friend, Hazel runs.

She avoids two arrows before Felicis' canon sounds. I don't know how Hazel hears the whistling over the boom, but she dodges just right out of the way, so instead of piercing the back of her skull, the arrow grazes her left cheek. The alight flame is enough to cause her to scream in pain, the skin blistering angry red and her eye closing from the pain. Despite everything, her feet still carry her forwards. The girl from Four starts hacking up, angry and pained, and unable to run any further with the remains of the fog still in her lungs, she turns back, picking the fallen arrows as she goes.

Hazel doesn't stop running until she's so deep into the forest that the light barely reaches the ground. Once she's alone, she slumps to the ground, and lets out an animalistic, grieving scream.

The last few days of the Games are the most eventful. The Careers end up killing one of their own – the boy from Two – when he's too weak from the fog to continue, and Hazel spends a day walking around in some kind of daze. She breaks out of it when she receives a parachute with some kind of ointment for the burn on her cheek, which had started to fester and shut her left eye completely. It heals within the day, letting her see, and she eventually gets her bearings and heads up to where the Careers have set camp at the cornucopia.

I've seen this happen on highlight reels before, but it never ceases to shock me. It turns out that yew trees are quite plentiful in the small patch of woods that Hazel has found herself in, and using a mixture of water and the berries, she's managed the fill the glass vial. She's kept the parachute, so when the time is right, and the Careers are busy watching the anthem, she slips the vial into it, seals it shut and runs out to place.

It takes a while for it to be spotted by the girl from One, and when she looks inside, her face breaks into a smile of relief. She calls over the others, and they begin to argue over who should have it – since there's only enough for about three of them. Eventually the pair from One claim it – since the girl found it, and they offer the last dose to the girl from Two, who is the next worse off. The camera tracks on Hazel, perched in a tree. It takes a while for the first of the three, the girl, to start showing symptoms, maybe half an hour. Her muscles start to twitch involuntarily, and she complains of seeing dizzying lights. Soon, the other two follow her lead, and the Career pack knows something is up.

Hazel's face breaks out into a sharp, dark smile.

I switch off the television.