Fire is everywhere, a wall that extends as far as the eye can see. The snapping sound of trees being consumed by the uncaring blaze mingles with the skittering of small feet as rabbits, deer and other animals try to outrun the flames. I can smell the unpleasant aroma singeing fur and burning wood. I can see Thresh reaching for his rock. I quickly grab my spear and the bag of bread rations and struggle to my feet, wishing I had time to stretch the ache out of my legs. But there's no time to waste. We run away from the flames as fast as we can. Is it me, or are they moving faster? With the power of fear spurring me on, I put on an extra burst of speed, gaining a few precious seconds. I know that the game makers are using the fire to lure me toward some other tributes, most likely the careers.
I hear a hiss in front of me and dive to the side as a fireball pulverizes the ground where I was about to step on. There's just a charred crater, about a meter in diameter, where the fireball hit. Another ball of fiery death barely misses Thresh; the front of his jacket burns and he has to waste precious energy beating out the flames. We run in a diagonal now, zigzagging randomly as we try to stay unburnt. I can feel my limbs beginning to tire but adrenaline keeps me moving. I wonder where Stara is. I hope she's okay. Then I have to remind myself that she has to die for me to win. My momentary lapse in concentration in thinking about her is a big mistake, as I just narrowly avoid being incinerated. Instead, the bread rations that I am holding are engulfed. I make a split second decision, surrendering the precious food to the fire, running for my life from the wall of fire that is still, somehow, moving in my direction. I think that it's beginning to slow down. Maybe this hell will be over soon.
After an unknown amount of time, I can tell that the fireballs are beginning to subside. I lean my back against one of the few unburnt trees in the area, my limbs racked by cramps. I take huge shuddering breaths of fresh air, sweat pouring down in rivulets. Thresh is doing the same. After a while we're able to breathe normally again. Dawn is breaking. The sound of snapping wood and roaring flames slowly fades out as the fire fizzles and is replaced by the songs of carefree birds. I realize that I am very lucky to not have any injuries. Thresh seems to be unhurt as well.
Then my rational thought begins to reassert itself. Why did the fireballs stop? Because there was no need to continue to launch them. Because I am fairly close to another tribute. I quickly reach for my spear, which lies on the ground. I don't remember dropping it, but I must have. The grip is comforting. My eyes move from side to side, searching for the slightest movement.
There he is, about 30 yards from me, a tan-skinned boy clutching a small box to his chest as if it is the most valuable thing he has. He's leaning against a tree, face contorted in pain. Part of the right side of his jacket is burned and an angry red patch mars the otherwise emaculate tan of his right forearm. He must be the boy from district 3. I wonder what's inside the box as he twists it in his left hand while trying to keep hsi right arm as still as possible to minimize the pain. How has he evaded detection from the careers for so long?
"You ok," I hear Stara's voice near me and snap my head around. While I've been watching the district 3 boy, she apparently made it back. I try to feel disappointed that she didn't get consumed.
"Yeah, we lost all the bread though and I think the wheat field is gone too," I say. "It's like the game makers are forcing us to try and steal food from the careers to survive, or try and ally with 12 so that she can hunt it for us. It's not fair." I sigh in annoyance.
"Better check all the wheat is really gone," Thresh advises. He is recuperating well from the exertions of the morning, relatively mobile as his cramps are fading. We will soon be able to get up. "And who is that kid over there?"
"Male from 3," I say. "What's that box he has?"
"And why is he hugging it," Thresh asks.
"And why are you asking all these questions of people who don't know the answers? You could ask him, you know. He looks unarmed to me. And even if he had some small weapon you could probably crush him with that rock before he even got a chance to use it."
The idea seems safe enough. Warily we approach the boy, who does not stop messing with his mystery box as we near him. He shrinks back in fear as we come within striking distance, curiosity warring with a growing sense of forboding clear in his wary eyes. I can't blame him for feeling that way; he's outnumbered three to one, seemingly unarmed and thus an easy kill. As Thresh begins to follow the retreating boy, I gesture a halt.
"Hey kiddo," I say, putting on an endearing smile, the one I use as I try to calm agitated cattle. "What are you doing with that box thing?"
"That's Oled Volta to you," he says, attempting an arrogant tone. The quaver in his voice betrays his fear though, making him sound more like a desperate, injured animal. "I have important things to do and you're distracting me so go away!"
"You know if we wanted to kill you, we would have. But our quarrel lies with the careers right now. And maybe you could help us take them down. And I repeat, what's that box thing?"
"The mine control box," he says. I stare at him uncomprehendingly. "The what?"
"It controls the mines under the plates near the cornucopia, the ones that blow you up if you try to leave before the minute is up. I found it among the weapons piles in the outer ring. They must have a remote way to control the mines of course, but in my private training session I showed off my advanced knowledge of electricity and magnetism and, well, I was one of the first private sessions so there were at least a few of them paying attension I suppose."
"Hmm, what did you plan to actually do with that though," I ask. It's the obvious question. "I mean you can reactivate the mines. I guess that's cool. It'll definitely provide a few hours of entertainment as you set it all up. I still don't see the point."
"Well I was thinking maybe I could sneak into the career camp at night and reactivate some of the mines near where the careers were sleeping so they'd wake up to a pleasant boom if one of them accidentally rolled over,." Oled says, still nursing his arm.
"Well that would get rid of one career, maybe two if they activated two mines simultaneously," says Stara, her brow furrowed in thought. She looks so cute. Belatedly I remember that, to win, she has to die. I can't think about what she looks like. I force my uncooperative head to jerk away.
"That would give us a better chance though. And it would strike a blow to the careers' morale."
"No," Stara says slowly. "No... We need to permanently cripple all of them. Not just kill a few."
The plan seems so obvious after she has said it. Blow the supplies up. We just have to hope that the careers are smart enough to realize that someone has been stealing their supplies, and that the supplies need better protection than a single sleepy sentry. Oled departs in the direction of the lake, which is visible as a blue ripple on the horizon. Thresh and Stara follow me as I trek back to the field.
Or, what is left of it, which is almost nothing. A few charred stalks of wheat lay limply on the ground, like the bodies of the dead at the opening bloodbath. We walk through the scorched earth, trying to get to the edge of the fire's area of effect. The fire leveled everything in a radius of 4 or 5 miles. I wonder how much money was lost just from this fire. Finally we reach the unburnt area. There is some wheat here, but not a lot; Thresh will probably have to be very careful about planting and water it to make sure that the supply is not exhausted. I mentally sigh in relief when I realize that a water source is nearby as well. THis camp will do as well as any, and with Oled adding some intrigue to the careers' prospects, they should leave us alone at least for a day or two.
The humid late-afternoon air weighs heavily on me. I keep drinking from my water bottle until it's gone, so I have to haul myself up to refill it. The water is warm, but better than nothing. I drink it mechanically. Now that I am safe, I am bored. I lean against a tree and close my eyes, trying to ignore the heat that continues to assail me.
But I realize that this heat is not actually so bad. I've been subjected to worse, especially when I exercised the cows during the dog days of summer, the hottest days of the year. Several other ranchers were put in the hospital for heatstroke; I had heard legends about a stubborn man who continued to work his body far beyond its limits and died due to heat exhaustion. The cows understand me though; if I let them know I was getting too hot, they would slow down some or head for the water so that I could refresh myself. It was one of the perks of understanding them, I suppose. Now there is no such respite. There is no airy barn in which to shelter. And my cows are far away.
Thresh trudges off toward the meager wheat and begins to dig with his hands to create furrows to plant it. Grateful for something to do, I ask him if I can help him in any way. I kneel down and begin to pour water into the holes. It's boring, but less so than sitting there doing nothing. Thresh says that he'll be able to harvest wheat in two or three days. I hope I can hold out that long.
The anthem booms out as the evening wanes to night. With the retreat of the sun, the air cools rapidly. The breeze, which was so pleasing as it caressed my face, becomes an ever-present annoyance, each gust of chill air more impudent than the last. Supremely uncomfortable, I lay down to sleep as Stara's ever-watchful eyes scan the area. There was nothing to eat but some roots that Stara remembered from her edible plants training. The bitter taste lingers in my mouth even though I have tried to wash it away with water. I think enviously about Old Boone, freely cropping grass and killing small animals without a care in the world. But there's nothing to do about that now. At least my sleep is dreamless.