I would kill for an axe right now. Turns out, chopping any type of wood, whether it's a branch or a whole tree, is damn near impossible with knives, which is unfortunately all we've got. At least Katniss' had a serrated edge. My fire-starter knife can't saw for shit. I finally get through the small willow branch I've been working on and slip it back into my boot. I quickly drag it across the forest floor and back to my pile. I wish I could pick up branches but we need green wood. Green wood creates way more smoke and the careers need a distraction.
I throw the willow branch on, observing the small pyramid of wood I've constructed about three feet high. It's the last of the piles. We've decided on three, spread out across the arena. Rue's going to light hers first. I wait ten minutes and then light mine, which is the farthest from the cornucopia. The plan is to draw the careers deeper into the woods, giving Rue time to light the middle fire and buying Katniss as much time as possible. If everything goes according to plan, Katniss will have plenty of time to get in, destroy the supplies and get out before the careers return.
I try not to be too pessimistic. Rue's idea is solid and we're all capable, but I just can't shake this feeling…doom, I guess what you'd call it. Even with our plan, I don't feel good. It should work in theory, but no plan I've been involved in during the games has exactly panned out. I try to put it out of my mind and finish the last pile.
One last branch and the miniature pyramid is complete. I can't help but feel a little bit proud of it, even if I'm going to have to destroy it in a few hours. It's still fairly early in the morning, but the careers should begin moving soon and, as Rue suggested, they'll need something to chase. We meet at the same tree as yesterday and, for once, I'm the first person to arrive. Rue scurried up into the canopy a while ago to scout the careers and Katniss must still be finishing her pile. I set my spear down and lean against the trunk of the tree, taking small sips from my water bottle as I wait.
The morning always has this serene quietness you can't find during any other time of day. There's no sound but the occasional call of a bird and the rustle of the ever-present wind through the treetops. It's so peaceful it almost doesn't seem like the arena. Hell, this could be a forest in one of the districts instead of a televised Capitol-killing field. If only.
I'm not completely lost in thought because this time I spot the acorn sailing towards my forehead and deftly catch it. I hear a disappointed a sigh and look up to see Rue in the branches above my head.
"You're getting predictable," I say with wide grin.
Rue shrugs and drops down beside me. "It worked the first couple times. You get your piles done?" she asks.
"I certainly did. What about Katniss?" I ask.
"I'm done, too," Katniss says, trudging up to us through the trees, still holding her serrated knife. A few beads of sweat trickle down her forehead and I notice a little bit of wear and tear on her hands, which she will of course never mention. I suspect Katniss could have an arrow through her foot and still wouldn't complain to us. That's just how she is.
"Rue, what're the careers up to?" I ask, knowing she'd been scouting them while Katniss and I were gathering wood.
"All still sound asleep except for the boy from Four," Rue says, "But they should be up soon."
"How much time do you think we've got?" I ask.
"I'd say about an hour," Rue says, "Do we all know the plan?"
Katniss and I both nod, all lightness vanishing from the atmosphere around the willow tree.
"Marvel, do you have your fire-starter knife?" Rue presses.
I slide the object out of my boot for an answer. Rue looks satisfied and nods her head.
"Alright, you guys know what to do. I light my fire and draw the careers away so Katniss can go in there and do her thing," Rue says, "Marvel, wait ten minutes and then light yours."
"And then you go to get the middle fire…I know," I say.
"That should keep the careers busy for a while, but still…I wouldn't take too long, Katniss," Rue cautions, looking nervously at the older girl. I know that look. She's worried about Katniss' safety just like me. It's no secret who's got the most dangerous job out of us three.
"I'll be fast," Katniss says, attempting to reassure the small girl.
"Should we use the same signal as before?" I ask, referring to Rue's ingenious mockingjay call.
"Definitely. Make sure to use it if either of you get in trouble," Rue says, her voice almost maternal.
Without hesitation, Rue pulls Katniss into a hug. Katniss is startled by the gesture, but quickly melts into it, wrapping her arms around the tiny girl in return.
"You be careful," Rue says into Katniss' chest.
"You too," the older girl returns, her voice brimming with emotion. She must be thinking of Prim.
Rue breaks from the hug and quickly turns on me, enveloping me in one as well. Honestly, I'm shocked. I knew Rue was my friend, but I didn't think she was as fond of me as she was of Katniss. The surprise must be all over my face because Katniss tries not to laugh as I return the hug. It's a bit difficult with the top of Rue's head barely reaching my ribs.
"Good luck, Marvel," Rue says.
I suddenly feel a bit uneasy by this goodbye. She wouldn't do this unless she thought we might not all make it. The thought makes me tighten my grip around my little ally, the kind girl who saved the life of a career who'd never done a thing for her.
"You stay safe," I manage. Rue breaks the hug and nods at me and then Katniss.
Then she begins to climb, quickly scaling a nearby pine and hopping away through the branches. Katniss and I both stand, transfixed, watching for her long after she's out of sight.
I look back at her and feel the pressure around us increase. It's the first time we've been alone since…that night beneath the tree. I meet that familiar silver gaze and see all my confused emotions reflected there. Neither of us know what this is...if it's anything at all. I feel like I should say something to her, something important…but the words don't come. We both look away awkwardly.
"Good luck," I say lamely, recalling what Rue said to me.
"Thanks…you too," Katniss says quietly. She fixes that unreadable gaze on me one last time before turning and heading off, bow in hand.
I sigh, probably too loudly, before turning to pick up my spear and heading out. I try to push all thoughts of whatever's going on between Katniss and I from my mind. There's work to be done.
A few hours later, I'm still sitting by my pile, playing with my fire starter knife. The flint in the detachable section of the handle is excellent and sparks just about every time, provided you strike it at the right angle. In my boredom, I managed to set a small leaf on fire, holding it by the stem and studying it as the flame spread across its dried surface like some kind of disease.
I don't know what's keeping Rue. I periodically raise my head, expecting to see smoke billowing into the sky, but am consistently met with the same pure patch of blue void. Rue said she'd light the fire. I assumed she'd be lighting the fire in about an hour but we're way beyond that. It's mid-morning now. Maybe the careers slept in and Rue didn't want to risk burning down the wood before they woke up? That could be it. It wouldn't surprise me at all if those lazy bastards thought they were owed a little extra sleep.
Hopefully nothing's gone wrong. I try the mockingjay call, whistling the simple note. I listen as the birds carry it through the trees and across the forest. A few minutes later, it comes back and I feel relieved. At least one of my allies is okay.
Maybe I should've said something more to Katniss…but what? She stands the greatest chance of dying and she's been one of my closest friends in the arena. Hell, she's been a lot more than that and the only thing I said to her was "good luck." It's so unfitting and now she might die. I try to tell myself that she won't, that everything will be just fine and that the plan will work to perfection, but I've long since lost the luxury of optimism. That's probably the first casualty of the games and everyone loses it…except maybe Rue who's somehow held onto hers. It could be because she hasn't been forced to take a life yet. Most of the people left have already crossed that line and I'm afraid it's impossible to get to the end of this thing if you're unable to cross it.
I turn my head again and am met by a welcome sight: smoke. A huge cloud of beautiful smoke is rising out of the forest and certainly drawing the goddamn careers away from the cornucopia. I pick up my spear and feel something almost the same as excitement, a certain readiness. I like a challenge. If the stakes weren't life and death, I might actually enjoy myself in here.
After what I guess is ten minutes, I yank my fire-starter knife out of my boot and get to work. I've layered the bottom of the pile with a surplus of dead grasses and leaves, the stuff that catches really easily. The first strike sends a shower of sparks onto the pile, but nothing catches. I frown and try again, but am met with the same result.
C'mon, you stupid piece of shit.
If I can't light this fire, we're in trouble. With this thought, I give it one last good strike, raking the blade across the flint and sending all the sparks I can onto the leaves. To my relief, one catches and fire quickly spread to the rest of the dry kindling. Soon, there's a genuine blaze going on the pile and the first plumes of smoke are rising into the atmosphere.
As much as I'd love to stay and watch my success, I know I've got to get moving. With this fire going, I should have careers inbound in a matter of minutes. I slide my knife back into my boot and pick up my spear before taking off. I run for about five minutes straight, dodging and weaving between the trees. I finally stop when I notice a clear blue pond beneath small rise of limestone. It's the first fresh water other than the river and the lake I've seen in the arena and it's a welcome sight. It's way too small for any mutts to hide in and away from the careers.
I flop down beside it and scoop a handful of water in to my mouth, holding it to make sure it's not poisonous or something. When I'm confident it's just cool, refreshing water, I swallow and feel it soothe my ragged throat. I stretch my legs out and lay down, my hands resting behind my head like a pillow. I can just make out the sky through the thick branches over my head. I wonder how Katniss and Rue are doing? Rue's probably waiting to light the last fire and Katniss…hopefully Katniss is close to destroying the supplies without blowing herself up. As much as I try, I can't quite remember the spacing on those mines. I don't know if blowing up one would set off a chain reaction or if she'd have to set a bunch of them off to destroy the supplies. Hell, maybe she doesn't need to use the mines. Maybe the careers left some lighter fluid around and she can burn the pile without getting too close. A flaming arrow might do it, but I don't know if Katniss has something a little more creative in mind.
Lying down, I'm more aware of my weariness. The games just take it out of you, both mentally and physically. The stress is compounded by the constant danger and it presses and presses you until you feel like you're going to break…and some do. Some go crazy. Some lose the will to fight on. Others, like me, just desperately need a nap.
I lazily look at my arms, noticing how much muscle mass I've lost in the time I've been in here. I was never as bulky as Cato, but I have some muscle on me…or I did. Thanks to my height, I look like a beanpole now. I'd kill for a steak. Hell, I'd kill for a sandwich. Something filling would be wonderful. I'm grateful for the food I've had, but wild onions and rabbit morsels only go so far and you're never completely full in here. I suppose I should've expected that from an event called the Hunger Games.
Just when I feel myself drifting off to my dreams, I hear it. The boom from what I guess was the mines thunders across the arena, the force of it ripping through the branches and sending every bird in the area into a panicked, squawking flight. A few rabbits even run by me, forgoing all caution in hope of escape the menace of the sound. I sit there frozen, wondering. Did Katniss do it right? Did she set off and get clear or did she blow herself up? It's a possibility, one that seizes me with terror. The cannon shot could've easily been lost in the explosion, just like any remains. Or worse, what if the explosion injured her? The careers are almost certainly on their way back there and if they found Katniss lying there injured…
No. I can't let that happen. I pick up my spear and hurry back towards the cornucopia, weaving through the forest as fast as possible. I don't know where the careers are, but if Katniss is down there injured, I can only hope I'll get to her first.
I reach a familiar slope and hurry down towards the cornucopia. I'm about to crash through the brush and into the clearing when I catch myself. If the careers are already there, I need to be cautious. I force myself to be calm when everything inside is telling me to just go. I creep forward and peer out through the brush. I see the familiar golden form of the cornucopia and the mountain rising above the horizon behind it. The lake is right where I left it but the pile of supplies is long gone…and in its place is a smoldering crater.
Holy shit.
My eyes quickly scan the area for any sign of Katniss, but find none. I immediately feel relief wash over me. I don't think Katniss would be crazy enough to step on a mine and if she's not here injured, she must've already taken off. And now the careers have no supplies.
I'm about to turn away when the pack returns, charging into the clearing with Cato leading the way on his surprisingly mobile leg. He stiffens when he sees the crater, coming to a sudden stop. Clove, Lewis and Cooper all freeze behind him, jaws hanging open at the sight. It only takes a moment for Cato to go into hysterics, screaming in anger, pounding the ground and tearing his hair out. It's such a ridiculous sight that I can't help but chuckle, although it does indicate Cato may not be all there mentally.
While Cato's imploding, I notice Cooper edge around him and begin throwing rocks into the crater, testing for any other active mines. Lewis hangs back and I see Clove talking to Cato, trying to placate him. Cooper looks back the same time Cato raises his head. There's a moment of brief eye contact and a thought seems to hit Cato: Cooper's done his job a bit too well.
It all happens in a moment. Cato surges away from Clove towards Cooper. The poor kid realizes the danger too late and only has time to take one step before he's seized in Cato's massive arms. Cato grips the boy's head like a doorknob and with a quick twist and a sickening crack, the cannon fires. The echo is still sounding when Cato drops Cooper's twitching corpse on the ground unceremoniously.
Clove immediately rushes to Cato, trying to calm him, while Lewis looks on Cooper's twitching body with mild interest. I can't watch anymore and slink away from the brush. Cooper's death is…unfortunate but I knew it was coming. That poor kid just wasn't going to last. I slowly make my way back towards our meeting spot, the willow tree, careful to avoid being caught out in the open. I don't know if the careers are going to hang back and search through the crater or if they're going to scour the woods in search of those responsible for their woes.
When I reach the tree, it's well into the afternoon. Unfortunately, there's no sign of Katniss or Rue. Where the hell are they? My mind immediately starts backtracking, searching for that clue I must've missed to what happened to them. Katniss might be lying low after destroying the supplies. Maybe she couldn't get far enough away from the careers and had to hide. But what about Rue? She's not dead. I would've heard her cannon, but that doesn't explain why she's not here. She should've had plenty of time to light the last fire and get back here to regroup. Is she staying up in the trees for some reason? A mutt? One of the careers? I try Rue's mockingjay call, once again listening to the birds carry the tune away. I stand there, ears cocked and desperate for an answer that never comes. I feel my fear rising. Something definitely could be wrong…on the other hand, they might've just not heard it. For all I know, they could just be making sure the careers aren't combing the forest before moving.
Part of me wants to head out into the forest in search of them, but where would I go? No. The best thing is to wait here for them. This is where we said we'd meet so it's my best chance of finding them. I lean against the willow trunk, my spear ready and eyes scanning the forest for my allies and my enemies. If the careers do go hunting, hopefully they'll split up. One on one, I'm prepared to face any of them…even Cato. He looked alright back at the cornucopia, but I suspect his leg wouldn't handle combat too well. Strangely, the one I'm most afraid of now is Lewis. After what he did to the boy from Ten…I just know something's not right in that kid's head. Maybe it was Brooke's death or maybe it was the stress of the games or maybe it was being around Cato and Clove for so long. The games just change people…usually not for the better.
I sit and watch the sun gradually drop below the horizon, awaiting the arrival of Katniss or Rue. I don't like this. They should've been back by now. For them to take this long, something's keeping them hidden. My guess is mutts or careers. Memories of the wolves return and I shudder, the sensation of their jagged teeth tearing into my flesh palpable. Would the gamemakers go for something like that again? Somehow, I doubt it. If there's one thing I know about them, it's that they take pride in their morbid creativity. That seems to indicate letting the careers do it themselves. I put the mockingjay call out several more times but receive no reply, only making me more nervous. I feel helpless. My gut tells me to go out and search for them, but my head dissents. I have no idea where they are and I'm far more likely to reunite with them at our meeting spot than while searching miles and miles of forest. Not to mention what else might be creeping through the forest right now.
I sit quietly as night falls, watching the sky for my answers. When the first notes of the anthem begin to play, I perk up and stare expectantly at the seal of the Capitol, suspended amongst the stars. Cooper's face appears, looking meek and non-threatening, and I hold my breath, waiting for the next face. No other faces appear and I let out a sigh of relief. Katniss and Rue are both okay…but then another thought hits me: the careers now know for sure that whoever blew up their precious supplies is still alive.
My eyes snap open as the first rays of sunlight hit them, greeted by the sight of the sleepy forest starting to come to life. I slept here? Completely out in the open? Inwardly, I curse myself for my stupidity. Here I was, all night, sleeping under a tree, completely open to whatever mutt or career happened to pass by. I was goddamn lucky. I can't imagine what Katniss would say if she'd se-
That thought brings me back to why I was under this tree in the first place: Katniss and Rue. I jump up and quickly search the area. Nothing. I can't even find a footprint to indicate they might've been here. Something's happened. Something bad. I just know it.
I chug the rest of my water bottle before picking up my pack, which until now had served as a lovely backrest, and my spear. I know exactly where to go: the last fire. If they were going to come back here, they would've made it by now…unless something is holding them up. Figuring out whether Rue made it to the last fire or not might help me pick up her trail and if I find her, she can help me find Katniss as well.
I slink through the forest, towards where I think the middle fire was. My ears are cocked and my eyes sweep from side to side constantly, watching for anything out of the ordinary. If I had some luck on my side I'd run into Katniss or Rue out here…but the way my luck's been going, I'll probably run into Clove. I clutch my spear tighter as I move, jogging across the familiar ground and ready to throw at a moment's notice. It's still early and I doubt the careers are up, but you never know. After yesterday, their anger might override their laziness.
It's mid-morning by the time I reach the fire…or untouched pile of wood is more like it. It immediately sets off my alarms. So something happened in between me lighting the second fire and Katniss blowing up the supplies. Something slowed Rue down and she was never able to light it. Katniss is probably just wandering around the woods like me, but what about Rue? I instantly feel myself clamp up, worry for the little girl overtaking me. She's done great on her own, but she's still one of the most vulnerable people left. All those survival skills don't mean much against big mean motherfuckers like Cato and Thresh.
I put out the mockingjay tune again, increasingly frantic. Like a message in a bottle, it's carried away and never returned. I run my hands through my shaggy, matted hair and try to think. Where are they? I can't believe neither of them heard that. Even if they were both injured, they should still be able to return the simple whistle. I try it again and receive the same result.
I quickly move away and begin checking all the places Katniss, Rue and I have frequented during our wonderful time in the arena. I check the river, our old campsite and even the tracker jacker tree, where the shell of the decayed nest still sits. I shiver and can't help but rub the spots my stings where my stings were, recalling their burn and the awful hallucinations they brought.
All the spots are empty. Frustrated, I flop down beneath an oak tree and try to think of where else I could check. The cornucopia? No, that's completely insane, although Katniss just might have the audacity to do something like that. Is it possible they ditched me?
That thought gives me pause. It could be true and it'd make sense, especially for Rue who wouldn't stand a chance against me in combat. But why would Katniss take off? I suspect that if she was ready to call this quits, she'd just kill me…unless she's feeling the same hesitations I'm feeling.
No, that's absurd. There's no way she's being as stupid as I am. There's just no way. I can't deny part of me would like to believe it, to believe that I'm not alone in feeling that way. But I just have to face it. Katniss is smart and she's here to win and she won't hesitate to kill me when the time comes.
I push the melancholy thoughts aside and am about to stand up when I hear a distinctive caw sound behind me. I turn over my shoulder to see a large crow watching me from the low branches of a nearby pine. It ruffles its sleek ebony feathers and stares at me with a gaze darker than ink. Its eyes are impenetrable black pearls, watching me from their place in the crow's rigid head. Somehow, its gaze is unsettling and not void of intelligence, like it knows something. I ready my spear. This could be a mutt for all I know. I'm remember studying film of the last Quarter Quell and seeing a bird kill a tribute by skewering her throat, so I'm not taking any chances.
The bird just sits there watching me, making me feel uneasy. It makes no move to attack, peering at me with the same unnerving gaze. I hear another caw and turn to see another crow in the oak behind me, so similar to the other that if they sat next to each other I'd never be able to tell them apart. I hear another caw and then another as more crows arrive on the scene, almost like the forest itself is conjuring them into existence. When the caws stop, I'm surrounded by six crows, circled around me in various trees and watching me with their dark eyes. I feel nervous, knowing I'm in the crossfire of their gazes. I can't explain it but they feel lethal.
I swallow nervously. This reeks of gamemaker shenanigans…but then why aren't the crows attacking me. In a way, I'd almost prefer that. There's something awful about their silence, something sinister. Maybe the gamemakers are trying some sort of psychological warfare on me, trying to get me twisted up in my own head. Well not me. Fuck these creepy crows, fuck the careers, fuck the gamemakers, fuck the Capitol and fuck President Snow. I've got to find my friends.
With new resolve, I pick up my spear and begin to move and that's when the chorus starts. All six crows begin hurling their caws at me as if they were weapons, their pointed beaks aimed at me as I begin to move. One takes flight and dive-bombs near my face. I throw my hands up in defense but the only attack comes in the form of a hideously loud caw in my ear. Like peacekeepers carrying out orders, their crows harass me with rigid discipline. My head feels like it's about to explode, each caw pounding in my head like a drum and somehow terrifying me.
Without another thought, I begin to run, only conscious of the fact that the crows and their awful caws aren't far behind me.
A/N: Sorry it took a while to update, but college doesn't leave me with a lot of free time. The good news is that I got this done and that the careers have lost their supplies...but our hero has lost his allies as well. With so few tributes left, the competition is heating up and every decision has dire consequences. As always, all reviews, follows and favorites are greatly appreciated.