Chapter 37- Terra Coppersmith
"Come on, you can do it! Come on!" I beg and encourage at the same time. He hops a little farther, then falls into the sand just at dusk.
"Are you okay? Please, please be okay, Fletcher!" I say, trying desperately to turn him over onto his back. We've made it so far, I can't lose him now. Not after today.
"Shh, Terra. I'm okay," Fletcher says, managing to roll over, but his voice is strained.
"We can't climb tonight. I'm going to hide you somewhere down here until tomorrow," I say, looking around me in the dying light. We're at the very base of the mountain, but with Fletcher hurt, we can't go up. There's boulders over there that form a little cave I think.
"I've got a hiding place, come on," I say, helping Fletcher up. He groans but doesn't complain as I half help him, half drag him over to the rocks and set him down as gently as I can.
It all started earlier today, when we hid from the lion. A lion! I've never seen one in real life, obviously, and I hope I never do again. I didn't even know lions could live in the desert. In the arena, anything is possible apparently.
Fletcher kept his hand over my mouth, not daring to move. I hardly dared to breathe. Fletcher and I looked at each other, then back to the lion, which hadn't seen us yet. It sniffed around, looking for something.
Then my eyes met the lion's, and it roared, like no real lion. Does a lion have a mouth full of teeth running back towards its throat? Does a lion have four-inch-long claws that are razor sharp and shine in the sunlight? Does a lion have three sapphire blue eyes, all filled with hatred?
This was no lion.
"Mutt!" Fletcher screamed, pushing me out of its path as it ran at us. More like sprang at us, jaws open wide. I screamed and rolled, down another hill. When I landed, I was choking on dust, but I still had my bow and arrows. Fletcher had rolled too, but the mutt was on top of him, snapping at Fletcher's throat as my ally fought him off with the knife.
I nocked an arrow quickly and sent it flying into the side of the mutt, which roared and sprayed fire, which lions typically don't do I don't think. It focused on me, giving Fletcher enough time to roll out of the way of the flames. I nocked another arrow and aimed it at the lion mutt's eye that was in the middle of its forehead.
It hit the eye, spraying blood everywhere as the mutt thrashed and screamed. In its pain and fury, it turned on Fletcher and slashed his leg, sending blood everywhere.
"Fletcher!" I screamed, then nocked another arrow, sending it flying into the lion's flank. It did nothing but infuriate the mutt more. Fletcher, though badly bleeding, managed to stab the thing through the heart while I hit it with another arrow. Finally, it lowered itself, shaking, and died.
I ran to Fletcher, examining the wound. It was deep and bloody, and I almost threw up to see it.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," he kept insisting. He really wasn't. "We need to get out of here."
I grabbed the parachute that came with the knife- thank goodness they sent it! And wrapped it around his leg in a makeshift bandage. Then, we hurried away from the place as fast as we could- which, with Fletcher injured, wasn't very fast.
Darkness falls and the air grows cold. "Stay with me, Fletcher. Okay? Stay with me," I say, keeping close to him. He's badly injured, and I don't know what to do.
The Capitol seal shows up in the sky and Fletcher and I watch to see the boy from 2 and the girl from 7 have died today. "Two more down," Fletcher says, but his voice sounds hollow and pained. I know he doesn't want anyone to die, but what choice do we have? And what am I going to do with him?
"Okay, we're going to see if we can get this fixed up," I say, suddenly remembering that I have a first aid kit in my backpack. Stupid, Terra! I pull my pack off and open it up, taking out the flashlight. Even a little bit of light is welcome, but it only shows me how ill Fletcher looks.
"Isn't that pretty?" Fletcher says smiling. "Now I can see you. Life just got better."
"Oh shush. Let me see your leg," I say, pulling away the ineffective parachute bandage. If anything, it looks worse than earlier, but it's not bleeding as heavily. It makes me feel ill to see it, but I'm the only one who can help him right now.
If he hadn't found me, I could have been happily hiding in the mountains, ally free. Looking out only for myself. But what would that make me?
I can't leave him, and I'm glad he found me. How could I be without him?
I rifle through the first aid kit, taking out antiseptic and a roll of bandages. No stitching material, which is annoying.
"So, Doctor Coppersmith, what's the plan?" Fletcher asks, regaining his cheeriness.
"I'm going to disinfect it and wrap it up tight," I say, already uncapping the antiseptic bottle. With shaky hands, I pour some over the wound, making Fletcher hiss with pain.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Never been better, thanks for asking," he says with gritted teeth.
"The worst is over I hope," I say, screwing the cap back on the bottle and setting it in the kit again. I then pull out the roll of bandages and wrap it around and around Fletcher's leg. It looks better wrapped up, more contained. He'll be alright, he has to be.
"Thanks, Terra," he says as I put the kit back in my backpack. "I owe you for that."
"For what? Wrapping you up?" I ask.
"Yeah; you could have left me out there, but you helped me back."
"As if I'd leave you," I say.
"It's the Hunger Games. One victor. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did," Fletcher says, trying to find a comfortable place in the rocky sand.
"We'll come to that later. I'm glad you're my ally," I say.
Fletcher grins at me, that old grin that still makes my stomach plummet into my knees. "How glad?" he asks.
"Aren't you supposed to be injured?" I say, getting up with the flashlight. A sudden thundering in the sky above me startles me and makes me lose my train of thought.
"What now?" Fletcher asks, looking up as well.
The rain starts suddenly but heavily, soaking us through in minutes. It's going to be a miserable night being cold and wet at the same time.
Fletcher pulls out our water bottles and sets them to fill up again. "Free water," he says grinning.
"You've got water, I'm going to get shelter," I say, looking around for things we can use. Even with the heavy rain I can see around with my flashlight, and I spy some bushy plants off to the side about six feet away.
"Fletcher, give me your knife," I say, and he hands it over willingly. Quickly, I hack down the bushes and drag them back to where Fletcher is sitting. Just like that, the rain stops, the clouds disperse, and they leave us with the star filled sky again.
"Quickest rain shower I've ever seen," Fletcher says, putting the water bottles away.
I think back to Training and the shelter station. First with the knife and then with my hands, I scoop a hole out next to Fletcher, big enough for both of us to fit in. I'm starving and my arms are weak and shaky right now, but I do it anyway. Fletcher sits and watches quietly. After a little while, he tries to help me, but I shoo him back to sitting. He's hurt, I'm not.
Finally, after ages of digging, I get the hole finished. Then I take the bushes and lean them against a rock above the pit, making a primitive roof. Hurrah, our bed is complete. And I'm exhausted.
"Looks great, well done," Fletcher says, grabbing my hand.
"Here's your knife," I say, handing the blade back to him. He smiles and keeps it loosely in his right hand. The other stays holding my hand.
Something drops behind me, making me shriek a little. "I'm sorry!" I whisper, clapping my hand over my mouth.
"It's fine; look!" Fletcher says. I turn the beam of the flashlight to where the noise came from, and it's another parachute. Two in one day!
"They must like us up there," Fletcher says. "Let's go to bed then open it."
"Okay," I say, grabbing the precious parcel, then helping my ally down into the pit. There's just enough room for us to both squeeze in, though it's tight, and long enough for us to lie down in. I'm proud of myself tonight.
"I opened it earlier, it's your turn," Fletcher says. We're half lying down, half leaning against the wall of the shelter; sticks keep poking him in the head.
Carefully, I open the cannister to reveal a full meal; meat, potatoes, buttery green beans, beets. Capitol food. How much would this have cost? I know now that we have good sponsors, and it's the best thing that's happened all day.
"Eat half and save the rest for tomorrow?" I say, smiling widely.
"Sounds like a decent plan," Fletcher says, and he's looking just as thrilled.
"Bon appetite," I say, taking a forkful of potatoes.
"And the same to you, Madame," Fletcher says, and we both smile.