Chapter 12
The last remaining female tribute from 11 is the first to appear in the night sky. Then it's her partner also from 11. I inhale sharply through clenched teeth as the sound of three cannons echo off in my mind, nothing but a distant ghost of a memory from earlier today. One more death is yet to be announced publicly to us surviving tributes.
I had just about come to the conclusion of who it is when the face of Evelyn Vinsmoke of District 12 appears in the night sky. Her face is soon replaced with that of the Capitol seal. The final music is played before there is darkness and silence once again.
Seeing Evelyn's face in the night sky renders me absolutely gobsmacked and speechless for a minute or two, which is just as well for there would be absolutely no merit to being heard by any other tribute lurking about in the general vicinity.
Calling it a day, I hobble cautiously on my bad leg towards the fallen branches. I drag them in front of the hallow tree and squeeze in myself before covering up the entrance with the branches, making it blend into the natural environment as much as possible. It certainly wouldn't do to be found, trapped in from all sides like a cornered mouse. It is a little bit of a tight squeeze but nonetheless more comfortable than being exposed out there; in the openness of the dense woods.
With the safety and protection of a little hideout, I allow myself to sleep immediately rather than staying up as long as possible. A bitter breeze seeps through the gaps in the tree, resulting in me using the Capitol-issued camouflage thermo jacket as a blanket. It doesn't take long before sleep and fatigue quickly overcomes my weary body. The image of Evelyn's slowly fading face is the last thing that my conscious mind is able to bring up before I fall asleep.
The sheer force of the ground shaking is what wakes me up early the next day. These earthquakes have been getting more and more frequent and much more violent over time. Poking my head cautiously out the small gap I am greeted with nothing but chilly mist everywhere. The fine fog is so thick that it is nearly impossible to see the next tree over. The surrounding mist actually makes it impossible to see even the forest floor it is so heavy. My eyes make out eerily dark shadows through the fog that I am really hoping is just my imagination, paranoia, and fatigue playing mental tricks on me.
Already it looks as though one to two hours have passed since the start of dawn. Usually I would be up and travelling by now but the mist makes trekking out in the woods extremely perilous. My sprained foot makes me even more so reluctant to head out just yet. So instead of braving the mist I furl up on my side and catch up on some sleep, wrapped up snugly in the comfort of my thermo jacket once more.
After two or three more hours of much needed sleep I wake up more alert than ever I have been upon entering the arena. My senses seem to be almost over heightened. It really is fascinating just how much even an hour more of sleep can do for the weak body. Unable to ignore my growling stomach any longer I decide to eat two pieces of fruit. Shortly after that small breakfast it is time to scout the outside world yet again.
By now most of the eerie mist seems to have cleared off; or at the very least thinned out significantly. Gloomy dark grey clouds roll across the vast sky, discernible only through the gaps between the leaves and branches that make up the dense forest ceiling. My face breaks into an inexorable but weary grin at the sight. Grey clouds equal rain. Rain equals water!
Surely the Gamemakers will show some mercy and give us some source of drinkable water. Nothing more so boring for the Capitol audience than watching tributes all die of dehydration.
The timing couldn't possibly be any better. After spending precious water on cleaning out my bloody wound, the supply is now dangerously low. The sight of those grey clouds instantly has me motivated and wanting to get out in order find the perfect and ideal place to collect maximum rainwater when it does finally come pouring down. The fast rolling clouds are such a dark shade of grey to the point of being black. But that small detail doesn't deter me in the least.
Dragonflies zip along through the forest on those transparent and fragile wings of theirs. Before long I trudge through the woods on heavily weary feet. Already that sudden burst of energy from this morning seems to have worn off almost as though it was never there. My eyes seep close every now and again. A zombie: that is how I feel walking the vast spans of the arena.
All morning small black ashy flakes have been drifting out of the grey cloudy sky; not rainwater at all, much to my dismay and annoyance. The little flakes silently floating down at first glance looks like rain and that was what I had mistaken it for. It had at first caused me to become so irrationally excited, until it turned out not to be rain at all. For one thing it's not in liquid form. For another, rain doesn't emit a sulphuric stench. Finally, rain isn't black. However, the ashy black flakes appear to be completely harmless and so I simply ignore it.
I manage to walk a few miles just as the morning continues on. Around this time a particularly violent earthquake knocks me to the ground. The vibrations caused are so ear-splittingly loud. There is a massive crash as of something colliding into each other roughly; a rather nasty collision. This is instantaneously followed by the sound of trees being smashed to splintery pieces. Before very long the impossibly strong smell of rising smoke is heavy in the already stuffy and humid air. It soon becomes blinding and causes tears to well in my eyes. Crackling and popping sounds register in my mind that can only be caused by a fire. I turn around towards the commotion and can only see a flickering orange glow between the looming trees. Suddenly a herd of animals of all breeds come crashing through the dense trees, in a great hurry to quickly escape the unexpected wildfire. As they are running away from the fire - and as a consequence running towards me - I pick up the pace as best as possible on an injured leg. Fortunately my ankle has healed adequately enough that I just narrowly avoid being trampled over by the unexpected stampede.
About this time what almost looks to be a fiery comet appears in the smoke-thick sky briefly before smashing with a mighty force into the cluster of ancient standing trees to my right.
That explains the extremely massive crashing sound from earlier before.
Then all at once the trees catch on fire with a roaring blaze. The heat is so intense I am that dangerously close to the wild fire. Thick black smoke fills the confined space of the dense forest in only a matter of seconds. I start coughing and hacking extremely violently as the thickly dense smoke begins quickly filling itself up inside of my considerably small lungs.
Yet another comet-like object crashes a few hundred metres in front of me. Fire roars to life in less than a minute in that specifically targeted area. The smoke begins coming in from all directions now, causing me to cough more than ever. Remembering the lifesaving words of the trainer back in the Training Centre I hastily snatch out the bottle of water and a strip of white fabric. I fold up the fabric into a decent size. Water is then poured onto the bandage cloth only enough to make it damp. Covering the dampened cloth over my nose and mouth I head south-westwards in order to avoid becoming a human torch. Immediately it becomes clear that I am heading further and further into the woods again; straight into the heart of the forest. No doubt this is all part of the crude work of those bloody sinister Gamemakers; all part of their sick and twisted plan to draw us remaining tributes all together for a horrifically gory and gruesome battle to the death.
The moist bandage cloth immediately and effectively clears up my pounding head whereas before the thick fumes from the surrounding flames made me a little foggy and extremely light-headed. The cloth makes thinking less of a strain and makes it easier again.
Behind and to my left, orange and yellow flames lick at trees and everything it comes into contact with. It engulfs absolutely everything; reducing tree to a pile of ashes and rocks to a pile of rubble. Absurdly enough the arena now smells no different from District 12; the mixture of ashy smoke and dry soot in the dirty air.
The roaring blaze sends flecks of tiny sparks everywhere which will eventually ignite more wildfires. Air soon becomes suffocating. Despite the use of the wet cloth I am still coughing my throat hoarse. My breath comes out at desperate raspy intervals. My head pounds with the exertion I'm putting my weak body through. My senses kick into overdrive as hot adrenaline courses its way through my small body.
I push ahead, humongous walls of fire blazing on the right, left, and from behind. Meanwhile more and more flying objects constantly shower down onto the earth in deafening blasts. The impact of the blasts intermingles and blends with the earthquakes – which occurs much more frequently – as though they are in competition to see which of the two can create the louder sound. There is this pounding which I cannot discern is coming from the Earth, my head, or even my racing heart.
The destruction that ensues is almost nothing compared to the incredible noise. There has not been this much 'exciting' activity seen in the arena since the pandemonium that was the bloodbath. Cameras must be working on overdrive trying to capture all of the activities and reactions of each tribute, and any deaths that may occur. The Capitol viewers must be going berserk.
I stagger onwards as frantically as the sprained ankle will allow. Combined perspiration from the heat from the scorching flames and the excruciating effort my body is going through gather at the base of my neck, on the side of my face, and under my arms in no time at all. The hastily improvised crutch I have been using up until now gives way and snaps in two. It has been slowing me down anyway. There isn't time to search for a replacement one and so I will have to make do without. Besides, any potential crutch has probably already been turned into kindling for the fires by now.
The dense air becomes extremely suffocating. I am suddenly reminded of a field trip down into the coal mines back in the second grade, and how I had found the coal mines suffocating back then too. As we went down further and further down the mine shaft, using a rickety metal elevator, it felt as though air no longer even existed down there. Breathing suddenly became an excruciatingly difficult task. The teachers managed to prevent many children from having panic attacks by turning the focus of the kids onto the canaries, which coal miners bring with them in rusty and rattly cages. They had explained to us that the carnies are used by coal miners as a sort of warning system. When a canary stops singing coal miners would take that as an indication that they are mining dangerously close to a gas line. They would then be able to get out in time. The warning left unheeded and the bird dies first. Then the coal miners would too. Haymitch Abernathy's father must have died around the time of this field trip as during the excursion Haymitch himself had been quite sombre than usual, as opposed to his usual outgoing self. Not to mention there had been a rumour amongst the merchant folks that a man from the Seam had been recently killed by Peacekeepers. Absolutely everyone had been talking about it as executions are rare in District 12, no matter how shady it may seem to outsiders.
Though the air down in the coal mines may have seemed thick back then it is nothing compared to the air in the arena at this very moment. Plumes of black smoke continue to constantly seep their way into my lungs and make breathing extremely painful, as though I am inhaling acid. Unable to put if off any longer, I draw from my backpack the bottle of water once again. This time I place it to my lips and gulp down as much as I dare. The slightly warm water is nonetheless invigorating and manages to make me more alert. I push on desperately in search of safely, but it's no use; the wild fire seems to be closing in from all sides. There is this sense of urgency with every crackle of flame and the roar of intense fire.
With the still moist, but surely drying, cloth placed on my lower face I am absurdly reminded of the dinner following the very first day of official training. We had all just relayed our day Konrad brought up fatal poisons. In particular, his main focus was on poisons in the form of gas or aerosols. "Unlike smoke, simply a water-soaked cloth will not nearly be enough to protect you against poisons," he had said. "What you need to do is soak the cloth in urine. The chemical in urine will neutralise the poison and prevent it from becoming such a difficult problem as it keeps out poisons from your body." I had shuddered at the thought and silently hoped that it would never have to come to that. Wendy was clearly uncomfortable with the current conversation and so tried to steer it elsewhere. She rattled on pointlessly about how the Capitol planned on improving the Training Centre, grasping at anything remotely positive and not at all related to urine or poison.
"I have heard suggestions about big windows that change scenery anywhere around the city at a single command. Imagine that! Oh and wardrobes that are actually programmed to a person's certain taste. Soon they will develop buttons and gadgets for all sorts of unimaginable functions. Why, there are rumours about showers with panels containing more than a hundred buttons. Can you imagine! Soon you will be able to adjust water pressure, choose soaps or shampoos or scents or oils, regulate the temperature of water, and activate messaging sponges! And once done, all you would need to do is step onto the mat placed in front of the shower and you will become almost completely dry! There'll be a box in which all you would need to do is place your hand on it and your very hair becomes dry and untangled! Oh, and if you begin to feel famished, all you would need to do is look at a menu and place your order through a mouthpiece or intercom and your order will appear in less than a minute still hot and steaming!." As is her nature, our escort continued to talk uselessly and insistently about the revolution and generosity of the Capitol all on deaf ears. We were all much keener to hear what Konrad had to say.
The sound of a collapsing branch draws me back to harsh reality that is the Games. Fire had spread almost at a supernatural pace up a tree just behind me and the branch, no longer able to hold out against the weight of it, fell. I look around a bit desperately for any escape route through the thick black smoke. Just as I begin to lose all hope, my eye catches sight of a tiny rabbit. It hops madly until it is no more than three feet away from me. There, it stops momentarily to sit on its haunches and jabs its nose here and there faster than my eyes can process. After it sniffs all around it the little rabbit appears to have found the direction in which it wants to go. Quick as a flash it is off again. Standing there it dawns on me that the rabbit has a keen sense of smell and would be able to lead me to relative safety. Without really thinking I dash after it, crashing through the woods carelessly and making loads of noise knowing full well that the blazing fire will mask them all. For now the adrenaline momentarily makes me forget about any pain. The only thing on my mind is escape.
Up ahead I see a white fluffy tail round a corner behind a fallen log. I rush after it and, after five more minutes of running, find myself in a small clearing that seems miraculously untouched by fire.
My little saviour scampers across the clearing of soft grass and retreats into a hole. I am left, dumbfounded and extremely exhausted, to sit on a rock.
It takes several minutes before I regain my strength and breath, after which I'm aware of the unnerving quiet all around.
I look up with immense relief to see that the smoke almost looks as though it were rising into the air and disappearing into nothingness. Against my better judgment, I reach the edge of the clearing and walk around it until finding a tree to climb.
At last a tree is found and so I make my way up it tentatively. I continue up the sturdy tree until at least ten feet is between me and the ground. After pushing my way through some closely packed leaves, I poke my head out and bask in the warm sun and extremely fresh air.
All around there is nothing but carnage and sooty ash left behind by the destruction of the flames. For now all that wild fire seems to have vanished by some unknown entity. As I continue looking around in wonder, several loud screams echo through the arena.
I turn towards the general direction of the sounds and, as a result, the mountain. Only it isn't a mountain. To my utter disbelief and amazement, I am staring at a volcano.