Chapter 15
I wake to my body shaking. This time, though, it's not shaking because someone is waking me up. It's shaking because I'm really cold. The coldness in the ground seeps right into my body. My jacket has shifted while I've been asleep, also exposing my upper body to the extreme cold.
I'm just about to pull up my jacket when it shifts itself. Well, by it-self, I mean by someone. And by someone, I mean Haymitch.
Not entirely sure what to do, I go on pretending that I'm asleep, keeping my eyes shut. I do allow a sigh of contentment as my body instantly becomes warmer.
Lying there for another ten minutes or so, I slowly get up. I make a show of waking and sitting up.
"It's not your shift yet," Haymitch says. "Sleep some more."
"That's okay. I'm not sleepy," I reply.
"So try."
These two simple words rub me the wrong way. I've been letting Haymitch get away with telling me what to do too often that he thinks he has more power over me than he does. Well that's about to change.
"I'm not going back to sleep. So either you can stay up with me, or you can take this chance to get some much needed rest." I emphasise the word much.
Haymitch's reply is most definitely one that I expected. "Nightmares?"
"No," I answer truthfully. Come to think about it, this talk of nightmares has me thinking of Konrad. He once mentioned recurring nightmares and plaguing feelings of guilt. But at its worst, my dreams since coming here has been bad – never nightmares, though.
Maybe there's something wrong with me.
"Look," I begin. "You-"
Turning towards Haymitch, I see that he's already lying down and breathing heavily. He must have been so tired and is already sleeping.
Amused, I turn to the sky and see whether I can make out any stars through this canopy of black trees. From this angle, many of the trees look like spidery hands reaching out to grab their next victims. I pop another mint into my mouth and allow my thoughts to keep me company as I keep watch for the rest of the night.
The sun has risen for several hours now before Haymitch finally gets up. I smile broadly. Not going to lie; sentry duty is boring.
"Morning," I say.
Haymitch merely grunts.
For breakfast, we go through two more ham sandwiches. Afterwards, we break a chocolate bar in half and try one each. It's really quite nice.
Then is our usual custom, each either holding a can or bottle, we resume our journey. Picking up where we left off yesterday, Haymitch leads the way.
Given how much distance we covered yesterday, I'm amazed my legs haven't given up on me yet. I suppose it's only a matter of time though.
As we trek along, we pass by a dazzling little pond, with stunning mayflies and graceful water striders in abundance all around. In silent agreement, we pass on, not so much as considering testing the water out somehow. After all, this arena truly is a poison paradise as Haymitch said.
One time during a break I remember something I've been meaning to ask Haymitch, not that I ever imagined I'd actually get the chance.
"What exactly did you do for the Gamemakers that would result in you getting such a high score?" I ask.
Haymitch recounts this amazing tale.
"As Evelyn and Adam said, the Gamemakers had the attention span of a five year old by the time I got to see them. Before I could do anything else, I first had to somehow get their attention. I did that by throwing a small axe at one of the lights hanging above the ceiling. The explosion of noise and sparks did the job nicely. Then I started throwing knives at target practice. Only, instead of aiming to get as many knives in the centre as possible, I used them to spell out the word DIE. Savouring their reaction, I then turned and left without being excused."
And that is the story of how Haymitch earned his training score of ten.
"That's similar to what I did," I mummer.
"How so?"
I then give a recount of my experience during that private session.
We continue on through the endless arena. Haymitch insisting that we keep moving most times when I ask for a break.
I don't question it; yet.
During another break, I ask Haymitch if I could borrow his whetstone.
"Sure," he says, handing it over to me.
I watch in fascination as the smooth stone sharpens the edge of my knife. It feels rather soothing to use the whetstone. The whetstone even seems to polish my knife somewhat. Once done, I return it and we resume our hike.
As we walk on, a dragonfly zips by to the pair of us. It goes in circles around Haymitch twice before circling me. It circles my head once, before actually landing on my hair. Surprised more than anything, I hold out my hand to see whether or not it will land there. It does. I smile at the sight of it on my wrist. Then without warning, I feel the quick sharp sting of a bite.
"Ow!" I say, swatting it away. Before my hand can make contact with the dragonfly, it's already gone.
"That's why you can't allow yourself to be fooled by anything in the arena," Haymitch remarks, keeping his eyes straight forward still.
Still walking, I inspect the bite. There is no bite mark anywhere to be found. Shrugging, I persist on walking. As I do, a sudden cold washes over me. My head begins to pound painfully. Cradling my head in both hands, I fall to my knees. Haymitch finally turns around.
"What's wrong?" he asks, standing in front of me.
I look up. "Nothing; it's nothing." Then I look around. "But we shouldn't be out here."
"Why?"
"Because we're out in the open," I reply softly, shrinking from the thought. "Someone might see us," I continue whispering.
"Donner, its fine. You were fine with it until just a moment ago. Right before you –" Haymitch looks at me, as though just realising something.
"What?" I ask, my voice rising in fear.
"Never mind, it's-"
"What is it?" I scream in alarm, my pulse quickening drastically.
"Keep your voice down, Donner. It's nothing. Really. Let's go," Haymitch says soothingly, as though addressing a kid.
"Why are you talking like that?" I whisper.
"No reason. Now we better get going," Haymitch says urgently. He pulls me up and it's now I realise I'm shaking.
"Haymitch, look," I raise my hand, "I'm shaking."
"That's nice." He pushes me onwards. "But let's move."
"Do you think its hyperthermia?" I ask, moving my legs forwards as Haymitch presses on.
A thought stops me dead in my tracks. "Do you think I'm dying?" I ask loudly in panic at the thought.
I drop to my knees again. "I don't want to die! I don't want my family to see me die!" I begin screaming in fear.
Haymitch crouches with a knee on the ground and places a hand over my mouth. "Stop screaming!" He hisses lowly. Then in a softer tone, "you're not going to die of hyperthermia, okay?"
I stare into those intense grey eyes and remain silent.
"Now, I'm going to let go," Haymitch says slowly. "But only if you remain quiet, understood?"
I nod.
"Good." True to his words, Haymitch slowly releases the hand covering my mouth.
"But how do you know I won't die of hyperthermia?" I ask quietly.
"Because I won't let you," Haymitch answers. "Now can we go?"
I nod and we both get up. We move forwards into the woods, shadows popping up behind every tree. Someone's following us! My heartbeat quickens.
"Haymitch," I whisper shakily, "someone is following us."
He looks around quickly. "No there isn't."
"Really, they're hiding behind the trees," I insist loudly.
"Okay, okay."
"So what do we do?"
"Let's-"
The sudden sound of a stick breaking silences Haymitch. Riddled with a whole new level of terror, I feel a scream building up. Turning my wide eyes to Haymitch, I see him shake his head. He seems to know what I'm about to do and is silently telling me not to.
Seconds tick by and another stick breaks. My nerves, which had been on tripwires as thin as filaments, finally snap. The impeding scream that was slowly building up is released in a torrent of volume.
Vaguely, I'm aware of the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer.
A blur of movement to my right suddenly pushes me towards a tree. I try to scream but realise a hand is covering my mouth. I try to kick but my legs are trapped by another pair of legs. I try to punch but my arms are firmly behind the tree. Finally gaining some sense, I realise that it's Haymitch who has me pinned. His whole body is pressed right up against mine, to stop me from thrashing about. He is shushing into my ear and telling me to be quiet. Reluctantly, I obey as he continues looking at something over my shoulder. I turn my head slightly to get a glimpse of what he's looking at. A large pack of golden squirrels run about in a frenzy. Some are fighting each other while the younger ones are clearly playing. The alpha, and the biggest squirrel of the lot, is sniffing the air.
This sight sends me into another panic attack. I double my efforts to escape from the tree and am screaming in Haymitch's hand.
"Calm down," he hisses. "They rely mainly on smell. If we remain here maybe they won't smell us and will just go away."
Big maybe.
However, the words do calm me down a fraction. We remain silent and still for several minutes. Eventually, the alpha squirrel squeaks and runs off. The rest of its pack follows soon after.
Haymitch and I remain where we are for a few more moments, until we are sure the squirrels aren't going to come back this way.
Haymitch releases me. Taking a step away, I breathe a sigh of relief. They're gone.
It's silent until Haymitch finally speaks.
"Here's an idea. Let's have lunch in a tree."
I am hungry and so agree enthusiastically.
We soon come across and good sturdy tree. After climbing it, we eat the rest of the ham sandwiches as they are beginning to smell off. We have a chocolate bar each, deciding that half a bar is not enough.
Getting through another bottle of orange juice, I sit and wait for Haymitch to tell me it's time to head off again. Even after he finishes his coke, he doesn't say anything, like I expected him to. I find it weird, sure, but I wasn't about to suggest that we get a move on. I'm not ready to forge through the scary woods just yet. Besides, it feels so peaceful up here where it's safe.
We're in the tree for another half an hour when I suddenly feel that pounding headache again. Another cold washes over me and I look up from cradling my head. Although I'm aware of what happened in the last hour, I still feel like I've just woken up from a dream.
"What happened?" I ask groggily.
Haymitch looks around at me from the other side of the tree.
"Capitol mutt, more likely than not," he says.
"Ah."
"I'm not sure if you remember what happened in the last hour or-"
"No," I interrupt. "I remember. It must've been the dragonfly."
"My thoughts exactly," Haymitch agrees.
"The Gamemakers used the dragonfly and tampered with my limbic system," I conclude.
"Specifically speaking, they heightened your amygdala. Judging by how you reacted accordingly to their mental manipulation."
"What do they hope to achieve by doing that?"
"Maybe that mutt was designed to make their victims scream loud enough in fear to attract other tributes. Or they could be designed to drive their victims insane," Haymitch speculates.
"In any case, let's get going," he continues.
As we weave through the foliage of trees in the woods, I wrack my brain for possible reasons Haymitch had for keeping us in the tree longer than usual. Unfortunately, no reasons come to mind except the one I know to be true.
He wanted me to stay away from any fear-inducing stimulants. I was a liability for the last hour. But if it meant we got to rest a little more, I don't mind.
"You could've left me," I still find myself saying.
"Why?"
"Because I was a liability," I reply. "I was screaming and could have gotten us killed."
"You saved my life once. I was returning the favour. We'll call it even."
Trees pass by in a blur as I muse over what life was like before entering this arena.
It seems like a lifetime ago.
Actually thinking back to it, we've been in here for a week now. It's been exactly seven days since Alex accompanied me on the hovercraft that brought me here. And it has been longer still since the last time I saw my family's face, Jasmine included.
It would be so amazing to be able to see them all again. At first, entering the arena with forty-seven other tributes, I knew the chances of seeing them again wouldn't be very high. I'm not stupid. I'm realistic enough to know what my chances of survive in this Games is. But with every passing day, and with each death announced, I feel my hopes building and my chances rising. Maybe seeing them again isn't such an impossible dream after all, as I had originally thought.
But then I think of those who will never get the chance to see their families again. Three of whom were killed by me. But I had to do it to survive. They would have killed me, given the first chance they got. And yet, there are innocent lives lost here, who didn't deserve to die. Like Evelyn. She may not have had any blood-related family to go back to, but those at the community home were her family. She had grown up knowing them, learning from them, and playing with them.
You nearly always won at hide-and-seek back at the community home, I hear in my head.
Of course that has me thinking about Adam. He may have been a prejudiced person, but from the way he interacted with Evelyn shows me that he wasn't all bad. He'd just grown up under bad circumstances. It almost brings me to tears to think that neither of them are here and that neither of them will ever be able to go home.
I trudge along, determined not to get too caught up with emotions. Emotions can lead to blunder. Blunder can lead to death.
"Can we take a break now?" I ask after two and a half hours of ceaseless walking.
"Not yet," Haymitch replies. "We can't stop until we've cover more distance."
"Why?"
Haymitch chooses not to answer.
Rolling my eyes, I follow along behind him. Looking at him at present, I'm only just now completely aware of how fortunately I was to run into him in the arena. Of all the tributes that could have faced those three monstrous Careers, it was Haymitch who drew the short straw there. And of all the different paths I could taken, I accidently stumbled upon the one that would lead me to where that battle took place, allowing me to save Haymitch's life right on time.
Life sometimes works in mysterious ways.
An hour later and I finally get the break I've been pestering Haymitch for.
I collapse on the overgrown tree root, glad to be able to relieve my legs of the burden of carrying my weight for so long.
My legs are throbbing with pain and so I massage them better. They earned a well-deserved rest. I lean back, my arms stretched out and supporting me, and swing my legs to release the tension still stubbornly there even after the massage. Feeling thirsty, I then help myself to a bottle of orange juice.
Then, much sooner than I would like, Haymitch is saying it's time to go. I get up and start following him, but not before looking back mournfully at that overgrown tree root I was just sitting on.
Looking at the back of Haymitch now, I can't help but wonder just how many he has killed since being in the arena. My kill count is up to three, but what's his? I would ask but he isn't likely to answer. Besides, knowing that won't benefit either one of us. That is what he would likely say anyway, I'm pretty sure.
It is early dusk and I begin to wonder how much longer we have to hike for until our next break, when Haymitch suddenly stops.
Fortunately I stop in time and manage to avoid bumping into him.
"What is it?" I ask, standing on tiptoes and trying to get a look over his shoulders.
"See for yourself," Haymitch replies, stepping to the side and pointing in front of us.
My face, which had had a neutral expression, changes immediately to that of pure shock. For there, deep in the middle of the dense woods, with just enough space between it and the surrounding trees to allow the front door to open fully, is a cabin.