Chapter 21
I stare, stunned, in mute silence as he tentatively sits up.
"You cut your hair," he states, bringing me back from my shock.
And that's all it takes.
A massive rush of relief overcomes me as I lunge at him, his name on my lips.
"You're okay," I mumble, my arms around his neck and my face in his shoulder.
"What happened?" he asks.
I let go of Haymitch and sit down in front of him, my legs tucked beneath me.
"You were poisoned."
Haymitch thinks this over a minute. "By that kid from 6," he concludes.
I nod in affirmation. "He must've poisoned the edge of his knife and infected you that way."
"Then how am I still alive?" asks Haymitch, his brow knit in a slight frown.
"Because of this," I say with a small grin, getting out the needle.
Haymitch takes the syringe and examines it minutely.
"Where did you get this?" he eventually asks.
"From Konrad," I answer.
Haymitch gives me a disbelieving look.
I laugh. "Don't look so surprised to find that you've got sponsors."
"Of course," I continue, "that's not the cure. The real antidote was a bubbly pink colour."
"So what's this?"
"Poison."
Haymitch looks at the discarded blackberries, and, putting two and two together, nods.
He hands me back the hypodermic needle, which I put away.
"This way, we might be able to fool some tribute into thinking that this is medicine," I comment with a shrug.
Haymitch nods again, an impressed look on his face.
There is a brief silence before he asks, "How long was I out for?"
"Just one night," I reply.
He looks around us. "And where are we?"
"In a small cave created by some large rocks," I answer, yawning into the back of my hand.
My eyelids become heavy so I blink rapidly to keep them from drooping closed.
"Did you get any sleep at all?" Haymitch asks worriedly.
I nod tiredly. "A bit," I say.
"Get some more," he tells me. "There's still," he peeks through the gaps in the branches, "one and a half hours or so before sunrise. When he sees my hesitation, Haymitch continues. "It'll be fine."
He absently picks out something caught in my hair.
Eventually I nod. Satisfied, Haymitch moves to sit near the entrance of the cave. I lie my head down on my backpack before closing my eyes.
I wake to bright light shining on my closed eyelids. Blinking several times, I sit up groggily.
The cave is illuminated by sunlight poking its way through the gaps in the leaves.
The peaceful silence of the cave is suddenly broken by the sound of Haymitch's stomach growling. I quickly stifle a giggle.
"There's half a drop biscuit with your name on it," I tell him.
He turns to me, clearly surprised to find me awake. Giving me a quick smile and nod of thanks, he rummages eagerly for it. I pull open my own bag, deciding now is a good time as any to have breakfast.
I quickly get through half a mint cookie and the packet of potato chips before deciding it best to carefully conserve the remaining scraps of food left. There's no telling how long we have to make it last for.
"How much water do you have left?" Haymitch asks, taking a swig from the last remaining bottle of orange juice.
I check my supplies.
"Just two small bottles and one half of a 600ml bottle."
I had completely spent the full 600ml bottle on myself and Haymitch the previous night.
We can only hope the Gamemakers will see fit to provide us with more water soon.
"Okay," he eventually says, packing up his things. "Let's go."
This surprises me. "Don't you want to rest a little more? You could still be recovering from the poison," I point out.
Haymitch shakes his head. "We've already wasted enough time. We have to keep going."
"Why?" I ask, forgetting that he isn't likely to answer.
And he doesn't. He just pushes away the branch at the mouth of the cave and crawls out.
Rolling my eyes, I follow suit.
Once we're outside, I stretch my legs and bask in the warm early light.
We stand there a moment, Haymitch gathering his bearings. He soon sees where we fought with the two tributes. It isn't that far from where we are now.
Eventually he decides on a path before moving off without a word. I follow Haymitch, looking back behind longingly at our shelter. It was a great place. Too bad we couldn't stay any longer.
We walk for most of the morning in companionable silence. I follow behind Haymitch with a new spring in my step, realising how close I was to losing him, and therefore decent company, in the Games. Without Haymitch here to ground me, and the knowledge that my family is watching my every peril as they come, I would have surely lost my mind ages ago.
The woods continue to stretch onwards. Even as we trudge on determinedly, I begin to wonder how much distance we have traversed and whether or not the woods will just go on forever despite it.
Haymitch is determined to go on. Even being at death's door only hours ago doesn't deter him in the least. He presses on, waiting whenever I fall behind.
As we walk through morning to early afternoon, I begin falling behind again while following Haymitch, who manoeuvres his way through thick trees with cat-like grace.
I'm still determined to keep up with him but my lack of sleep the previous night catches up with me, making me more tired than I should be.
Eventually, I start asking for breaks again, much to my own annoyance.
At first we take them. But as they become less frequent I begin to get annoyed. Not because we don't rest, but because Haymitch still refuses to tell me why we cannot stop or why we must keep going.
Finally fed up with the silence, I lean back against a tree. It takes Haymitch all of three seconds to realise that I'm not following him.
"We have to keep moving. Can't stop," he says, stoping only to wait for me to catch up.
"Why?" I challenge with a shrug, asking the same thing for about the hundredth time today.
Haymitch just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He takes several steps, assuming I will follow him. That arrogance will only get you so far, Abernathy.
"I'm not going any further without an answer," I call out, making him stop. Truthfully I'm a little surprised at that. "So why?"
"Because it has to end somewhere, right?" Haymitch states, walking right up to me. "The arena can't go on forever."
"What do you expect to find?" I ask.
"I don't know," he admits, turning and walking away, expecting this to be enough of an explanation for me to follow him. "But maybe there's something we can use."
Finally deciding that that is the best I can expect from talkative Haymitch, I hurry to catch up with him. It doesn't take long, as I realise he had been walking deliberately slowly, knowing somehow that I will eventually follow him again.
As we continue to plod on, I think about his words.
Honestly, it never occurred to me that the arena does have to end somewhere. Maybe because of all those years watching the Hunger Games, no tribute has ever considered the idea themselves. No tribute had ever tried to see what lies at the end of the arena. Knowing Haymitch, this mystery must have eaten away at him from a very young age. That just shows how inquisitive and bright he can be... at times. Being in the arena, now he has the chance of finding out for himself.
And then I'm thinking about the fact that he said something we could use.
How much longer until this alliance inevitably ends? How will this alliance end? Because, surely, if it were up to me, I know that I would never be able to kill Haymitch. Honestly, I don't think he could kill me either. Not after everything we've been through in the Games. But that could just be wishful thinking. Suddenly I am sure it will be up to me to end this alliance. Reluctantly, I resolve to break it off when there are only five of us left.
That means after the next death, assuming that it is neither Haymitch nor I who dies.
Or, I decide with a hint of glee, I'll break it off when we discover what is at the end of the arena. That could be a very long time. Also, I am curious as to what the end of the arena holds.
It is late morning, as we are still walking on through the woods, when we hear the faint but distinct sound of a cannon fire.
We freeze for a moment, despite the fact that the sound came from a far distance. We freeze because of the obvious implication.
There are only five of us left. We are only three tributes away from becoming the final two.
Okay, I decide quickly, I'll definitely break off our alliance once we've seen exactly what it is that lies at the end of the arena.
"We should go," Haymitch says, seemingly unfazed by the cannon. He continues trudging on, with me quickly following behind him.
Bonds are made to be broken. The phrase whirls around in my mind as I try my best to ignore it. I know the bond Haymitch and I built on this alliance will indeed need to be broken. That I will be the one to sever our ties tugs insistently at my consciousness. I know it won't make it any easier when that time eventually arrives.
As we continue on, Haymitch stops when he spots a snake.
It's around two feet long and lying motionless. The snake is black with several yellow stripes that stretch the length of its entire body. I recognise it immediately.
"It's an Eastern Ribbon snake," I inform him. "They're non venomous, so don't worry.
The snake lazily lifts its head towards us.
"Donner," Haymitch starts, "when are things in this arena never poisonous?"
I think about this for a moment. "Guess it's better to be safe than sorry."
"The smartest thing you said all day."
So we carefully avoid the watchful snake and continue on our way, me glad he never bought up eating it.
Haymitch leads us on through the forest for about another hour before we rest to eat lunch.
We sit on the ground, our backs against a particularly big tree.
I eat some raccoon meat, saving some for later. Then I finish the other half of the mint cookie.
We rest awhile longer, enjoying the peace and each other's company. From our close proximity I notice Haymitch's musky scent and briefly wonder if I have a smell.
All too soon, Haymitch gets up. He reaches out a hand to me. Surprised, I take it and allow him to pull me up onto my feet.
"Thanks," I say.
He shoulders his pack. "Come on."
We continue walking long into the afternoon, with short breaks here and there.
My legs are beginning to become sore and I'm lost in thought when Haymitch suddenly asks a question.
"So your hair," he beings, "why did you decide to cut it?"
I shrug. "It was getting in the way."
"What happened to your hair tie?"
"Lost somewhere during our escape from the cabin," I wave off. "It most likely got burnt along with everything else still in there."
"Such a waste," he mutters.
"Oh, right," I say, "you never got to take a shower." That is a waste.
The image of Haymitch shirtless comes unbidden. I see his lean but well-muscled torso, his toned and flawless skin. The way his collarbone protrudes in that nice way. He's unquestionably thin, but more on the healthier side.
"Watch out for that butterfly," I warn Haymitch as a blue and yellow thing suddenly comes across our path.
"Your warning would have done a lot more good one week ago."
"You got stung," I state.
"Half a dozen times," he admits
That leaves me surprised beyond words.
"How'd you survive that?" I ask.
"Luck," he replies. "Any more stings and I would've been dead for sure."
Haymitch guides us through the woods in silence after that.
As the day progresses and we persist in the same direction, always away from the Cornucopia and volcano, I take off my jacket. The day gets warmer and as do I, being made to walk far distances.
My mockingjay pin catches the light from the sun. It glints merrily. I smile just looking at it, thinking of District 12 and home.
Now that we've talked, I can understand the logic in the direction in which Haymitch leads us. There is no way we'd risk climbing a potentially still active volcano just to see what is on the other side. Rather, Haymitch wants to keep the distant volcano and Cornucopia behind us. He wants to trek through the woods and see what lies at the other end. As do I.
The afternoon stretches for what feels like an eternity. I do well not to complain though. And now that I've finally gotten some answers, I don't bother asking Haymitch anymore questions.
In fact, come to think about it this is the longest we've gone without saying anything. It's nice as it gives me a chance to just observe the seemingly harmless animals and insects that come across our path.
We do well to completely avoid directly crossing any of their paths.
I see a small flock of canaries, all with an assortment of different coloured feathers. A yellow and white one chiefly catches my eye as it is the exact same colour and shade as Melody.
My father had brought her for Meredith and me as a shared present for our twelfth birthday. Seeing as it was our first year of eligibility for the reaping, he wanted to buy us something that little more special to lift our spirits. It worked for me. I absolutely adored her. Meredith showed little to no interest. Thinking back to it, that is why Melody's pretty much considered mine. I remember all those pleasant afternoons spent teaching her songs. She would learn them extremely quickly and be singing them herself by that same night. The very first song I ever taught her was the valley song.
As dusk approaches, I start to wonder if there even is an end to the woods, let alone the arena. But I do well not to say anything. I know that it does have to end somewhere. It just has to.
I muse over the fact that I'm willing to follow Haymitch on this potentially wild goose chase to the end of the arena and even trust him enough to sleep while he keeps watch. It's amusing considering I was willing to stay up as long as possible simply because at first he couldn't yet be trusted. Now I've learnt that, inexplicably, trusting Haymitch is no harder than instinct.
We don't stop for a break again until it is completely dark out. The gorgeous sun is long gone, replaced instead by a bright moon. Haymitch and I sit on a fallen log, eating some food.
I eat a little more raccoon before finishing off the potato chips. We then split another drop biscuit just as the death recap begins.
Climbing a tree to get the best view of the starry sky, Haymitch and I make it in time to see the face of the younger brother from District 7. His name may have been Axel or something.
"I wonder how he died," I utter softly, watching as his face is replaced by the Capitol seal.
"You and me both," Haymitch adds as the anthem slowly dies out.
We stay in the tree like that, looking up at the night sky for a little while longer. The hovercraft disappears and the sky is back in all its wonder and splendour. It's times like this that I can so easily forget where it is I am or who put me here in the first place or what it is I'm supposed to even do here. I realise the dangers of getting too comfortable anywhere and letting down my guard even for a minute, but that's only to be expected when the arena is designed to look the way it does.
Soon Haymitch is climbing down the tree. I reluctantly follow afterwards.
"I'll take first watch," he offers once my feet are back on the ground.
I nod, grateful as it was partly his fault for my lack of sleep the previous night. Even though it was unintentional on his part.
It goes to show just tired I am when I don't protest even a little. Haymitch must surely notice it as well, but chooses not to comment.
Getting comfortable on the ground, the last thing I think of before falling asleep is how distraught the older brother must be.
It's all the more tragic when you realised that he must've watched his brother die right before his eyes.