Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.
Note: Just a friendly reminder to vote in my "favorite district pair/group" poll if you haven't already.
Yep, another quick update. This chapter contains a few scenes I've had rattling around in my head for a while. And while it was a bit painful to finally get them out on paper, I couldn't really postpone them any more. So here they are.
Day Two
Courage
Percival Kent
District Three Mentor
He wasn't sure whether Aleron was brave or just stupid.
Percival drummed his fingers on the table as Miriam took a seat beside him. Both Horatio and India had settled down for the night, and Evander was sleeping soundly. Aleron, on the other hand, had yet to return to the group. Jediah shifted nervously, glancing from side to side, perhaps wondering how long he should wait before alerting the others.
How long it had been, Percival wasn't sure. Ten minutes, perhaps – maybe fifteen. But, on their screens, they could see what Jediah couldn't: Aleron wasn't going to be returning quickly. Since leaving the group, he had been heading steadily downhill. Ten minutes downhill meant a good twenty or thirty minute trek back up the steep slope. By the time he decided to turn around and make his way back to the group, they could be somewhere else entirely – especially if they decided to go looking for him.
If he decided to turn around. Percival wasn't sure exactly where Aleron thought he was going, but he was clearly interested in something. Maybe he had seen something during one of the flashes of lightning. Maybe he had heard something.
Percival just hoped he hadn't heard someone crying.
But Aleron wasn't particularly close to finding Presley and Ivira. In fact, he didn't seem to be close to anyone. He was heading west, away from practically every tribute in the arena. But that didn't mean he was safe. There were always mutts. Or a bolt of lightning could strike him. Or a tree could fall on him. Or…
Percival shook his head. Any of those things, of course, could happen just as easily if he'd stayed with the others. If anything, his actions were making the audience curious. Maybe that would be enough to keep the Gamemakers from interfering. Maybe.
Maybe that was the idea.
Maybe he had realized that the Gamemakers wouldn't leave them alone forever and decided to take the initiative. Maybe he reasoned that if he did something interesting enough, the Gamemakers wouldn't need to send mutts or drive other tributes in their direction to spice things up. Maybe he was being brave.
Percival hoped that was the case. Hoped Aleron wasn't simply striking out on his own in the middle of the night because he was restless. Because he couldn't sleep and wanted to do something.
Then again, he wouldn't be the first person to give in to his impatience.
All across the arena, tributes seemed to have trouble simply sitting still and sleeping. Probably had something to do with the rain, Percival reasoned. It was hard to sleep with rain constantly pounding your body.
But even the tributes who had some sort of shelter seemed restless. Inviticus was pacing back and forth inside the hovercraft while his two allies slept. Beckett had gotten up every few minutes, it seemed, to check and make sure no one was approaching the entrance to his cave. Philus had seemingly given up trying to sleep and had volunteered to watch, instead, and was now pacing uneasily about the cabin. Every so often, he stepped outside, stood in the rain for a while, and then headed back in. And Imalia, Shale, and Indira were headed south from the cornucopia, venturing out for what seemed to be no other reason than because they could.
But at least none of them had wandered off without the rest of their group.
Percival took another drink. Losing track of their allies, or simply becoming separated due to circumstances beyond their control – as so many of the tributes had done – that he could understand. He had become separated from his own allies during the bloodbath, after all. But for a tribute to simply get up and walk away from their alliance without any sort of explanation was … not unheard of, but usually not something that happened until later in the Games, when the alliance had begun to splinter and it was smarter to get away before it cracked completely.
But that wasn't what had driven Aleron away. His alliance had shown no sign of cracking. Adelia had snapped at him briefly, but only right after they had both been startled awake by the last cannon. That certainly wasn't a good enough reason to leave.
"Sometimes there isn't a reason."
Percival glanced up from his drink. "What?"
Miriam smiled a little. "I know that look. You're trying to work out what Aleron's doing – why he took off. Sometimes there isn't a good reason. Sometimes tributes just do things – stupid, unexplainable things. They're kids. And sometimes they're unpredictable. They're irrational. Sometimes they do things that don't make sense – like string a rope around a monkey mutt's neck and hang it from a doorway."
Percival cringed. "Touché. But at least I knew how to stay put." He had spent almost his whole Games in the basement of the opera house, killing anything – and anyone – that ventured into his lair. The audience had seemed to think that was entertaining enough. So why did tributes always think they had to be constantly on the move in order to hold the audience's attention?
They're kids.
No. No, that wasn't quite right. They were kids. A few days ago, they had been kids. Now they were tributes. And tributes couldn't afford to make stupid, careless mistakes – not too many of them, at least. Whatever Aleron's reason was for striking out on his own, the fact remained that he'd been terribly lucky so far. And that luck wouldn't hold forever.
But maybe it would last a little longer.
Myrah Lanhart, 14
District Nine
"I'm sorry; I just didn't think I should wait any longer."
Myrah yawned as Jediah kept apologizing. "I didn't want to wake everyone, but I wasn't sure what else to do. I thought he was coming back. I thought he would only be a few minutes. But it's been – I don't even know – maybe twenty minutes. I thought he would be back by now. But there haven't been any cannons – not since that last one – so he's still alive. And I didn't hear a scream or anything, but I'm not sure if I would over the rain, and—"
Myrah tuned out the rest as Adelia did her best to calm her district partner. By now, all five of them were awake. Five. Aleron was gone – that much was clear from Jediah's ramblings. Where he had gone – and why – wasn't quite as clear.
"Why would he just leave?" Evander asked quietly.
The question didn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular, but Adelia answered, anyway. "He probably didn't mean to. He probably just went a little too far and got turned around. The best thing we can do is stay where we are, and he'll find his way back eventually. If we split up and go looking for him – especially in the dark – we'll just get lost ourselves. If he's not back by morning, then we can look for him."
One by one, the others agreed – a little too easily, Myrah thought. Aside from Jediah, no one seemed particularly worried that Aleron had simply left. And was Jediah really worried about Aleron, or was he just concerned that the others might think he wasn't doing his job if he let someone simply slip out in the middle of the night?
"Couldn't we call for him?" Myrah suggested. "If he's nearby, he might hear us."
"And if other tributes are nearby, they might hear us," Nadine pointed out.
"There are five of us. It's not like they're going to attack us."
"They might if they're armed. We're not," Adelia reminded her. "All it would take is one bow and arrow, or a few throwing knives – they wouldn't have to get anywhere near us."
Myrah shook her head. "I didn't see any bows and arrows." She hadn't seen any weapons at all.
"Doesn't mean the sponsors couldn't send something," Jediah offered.
Myrah stared. "What's the matter with all of you? Don't you want to find him?" She turned to Evander. "He's your district partner! Aren't you even a little bit worried about what might happen to him?"
Evander shook his head. "Of course I am. But there's really not anything we can do about it until morning. If he got turned around somewhere, hopefully he'll have the sense to stay there for the night, and, in the morning, we'll all find each other."
"If he got turned around somewhere," Myrah repeated. "What if he didn't? What if he just … left?"
"Then he's probably too far away by now to hear us even if we do start calling," Adelia reasoned. "If he doesn't want to come back, no amount of shouting is going to change his mind. Get some sleep. I'll take the next watch. We'll get this sorted out in the morning."
Reluctantly, Myrah lay down again. What if she had been the one to go missing instead of Aleron? Would they be trying any harder to find her? Would anyone care? Myrah closed her eyes.
But she already knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.
Zachary Travelle, 17
District Five
Sooner or later, they would have to sleep.
Zach squinted through the rain as the lightning flashed again. So far, he'd managed to keep the pair from Twelve in sight. His plan had been to wait for them to stop – maybe even to go to sleep – before attacking. But, so far, they had shown no signs of stopping, or even slowing down. The only concession they had made to the darkness was to move a little farther inland, avoiding the slippery rocks at the water's edge. Other than that, the pair seemed comfortable in the dark, helping each other along, quick to rush to each other's aid when one or the other stumbled.
Zach wished he had someone to help him.
He was still farther inland – right at the edge of the jungle – so he had to watch out for trees. Several low-hanging branches had already swiped his face in the dark, and he was probably lucky he hadn't run into any larger ones. But he didn't dare move farther away from the trees. Then they might see him.
If they hadn't already, that was. What if the reason they didn't want to stop was because they knew they were being followed? What if they were thinking the same thing he was? What if they had figured out that he was alone, and that if he stopped to rest – or to sleep – he would be an easy target?
He couldn't afford to stop any more than they could.
There was always another option, of course. He could turn back. Give up the chase. He had no reason to believe they would come after him. The safest thing to do would be to leave them alone, find some other prey. Find someone who wouldn't be expecting an attack. That would be the safe thing.
The safe thing. Running from the bloodbath had been the safe thing. Leaving Mavina to die instead of trying to fight off Inviticus had been the safe thing. He had thought following District Twelve would be the safe thing, figured they would be easy to pick off.
He hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected them to simply keep going. Not in this weather. Not in the dark. They didn't have any training, after all. He did. Didn't that mean they were supposed to tire first?
But there were two of them.
It always came back to that, it seemed. With two of them, one could be encouraging the other to keep going, urging them on when they would rather stop to rest. Instead, he had only the pounding rain, the wind, the cold – all telling him that it would be so much easier to stop. To simply let them go.
Maybe he should. He could always catch them later. It wasn't as if they could go that far. The arena wasn't that big. And the Gamemakers could always herd them together.
The Gamemakers. The Capitol. The audience. The thought of them made Zach reconsider, even as he was beginning to slow his pace. What would the audience think if he simply let these two go? What would Camden think? It had been almost a whole day, and, so far, he had nothing to show for it. He couldn't just stop. Couldn't just let them escape. Zach gritted his teeth and picked up his pace again. He had to keep going.
Just a little longer.
Delvin Flynn, 18
District Six
Just a little longer.
Delvin crouched as low as he could, watching as the three Careers passed right by him. They weren't looking for anyone – not yet. They hadn't expected anyone to stay this close to the cornucopia. The three of them had gathered some rocks, and the girl from Four had found a large branch to use as a club. So they hadn't found anything useful in the hovercraft.
But he would. He was sure of it. He just needed a chance.
Now he had one. And, most likely, he wouldn't get a better one. They had left someone to guard the hovercraft, but only one. And chances were good that whoever it was didn't have any better weapons than they did. Delvin slipped a few of the rocks into his pockets. He had as good a chance as whoever was in that hovercraft. Maybe better, with the element of surprise on his side. He just had to use it.
Lightning flashed again, revealing that the other three were already out of sight along the beach. Wherever they were going, they were in a hurry. Hopefully, that meant they wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Which left him only one Career to deal with.
Just one.
Slowly, Delvin crept closer to the hovercraft. Hoping that whoever was on guard was standing by the door. Maybe with their back turned. Maybe starting to doze off now that their allies were gone.
"Well, hello there."
Shit.
So much for the element of surprise. For a moment, Delvin considered turning back. Running. But that wasn't what he had come here for. Quickly, he lunged forward in the dark. The Career sidestepped his blow, and Delvin tumbled forward into the hovercraft. He was on his feet again in an instant. He swung again with one of his rocks, then jabbed with his fist. Each time, the other boy simply stepped away from his blows. Delvin gritted his teeth. Was the boy simply toying with him? Didn't he want to fight?
Finally, the other boy swung, his punch landing squarely on Delvin's jaw. The second blow came low, swiping Delvin's legs out from under him. But Delvin grabbed at the other boy as he fell, dragging the Career to the ground with him. For a moment, they tumbled, rolling over each other, but the other boy ended up on top, slamming Delvin's wrist against the floor. The rock slipped from his grasp. Soon, it was in the other boy's hand. Delvin braced himself for the blow he knew was coming.
"Had enough?"
Delvin stared, confused. "What?"
"I asked if you've had enough? That wasn't a bad performance; you can certainly take a punch. What are you doing here?"
"I thought it was obvious."
"You're here looking for something, probably – but not a fight. What did you think you were going to find?" The other boy eyed him curiously. "You're one of Septimus' group. Delvin, isn't it?"
Delvin hesitated. But admitting it didn't really put him at a disadvantage, and anything that kept the other boy talking instead of striking was a good thing. "Yeah."
"I take it he's not around."
"Obviously."
"Interested in joining us, instead?"
"What?"
The other boy shrugged. "Well, it's either that or I kill you right here. But, all in all, I'd rather not. Someone brave enough to come in here and try to raid the cornucopia all on their own – that takes guts. We could help each other. But if you'd rather…" He raised Delvin's rock.
"Wait," Delvin gasped, and the boy lowered the rock. "I … I guess I accept."
The boy smiled, got to his feet, and offered Delvin a hand up. "Smart move. I'm Jarlan. The three I'm guessing you just saw leave are Imalia, Indira, and Shale. They'll be back sooner or later."
Delvin eyed the door. Did he want to be here when they got back? Maybe he could still outrun the other boy. Maybe he could get away. But that would probably just make him their next target. And, without allies of his own, he couldn't afford that. Finally, he turned back to the other boy and smiled.
"I'm looking forward to meeting them."
Indira Serren, 18
District Ten
She wasn't looking forward to this.
Indira clutched her rock tightly as she and Shale followed Imalia along the beach. They had both known this was coming. If they were going to be allies with a pair of Careers, eventually, they would have to start acting like Careers. They would have to prove they deserved to be here.
Lightning flashed again. Indira glanced at Shale, who nodded reassuringly. She nodded back. This had been her idea, after all. She had been the one to ask Jarlan if the offer still stood. Shale had backed her up then.
So she would back him up now. She hadn't wanted to go hunting in the dark and the rain. But if he had sided with Imalia, he must have had a reason.
She would just have to trust that it was a good one.
It had to be, if he had agreed to hunting in this weather. In the dark. They had only been walking for half an hour or so, but their boots were already full of water. And they had seen no sign of anyone. Any footprints that might have been left on the beach after the bloodbath had long since been washed away, and, in any case, it was far too dark to follow anything.
Anything except Imalia's instincts. She hadn't slowed her pace since they'd left the hovercraft. She seemed to know exactly where she was going.
Or maybe she just wanted everyone to think she did.
Indira shook her head. For all their training, Jarlan and Imalia had been as surprised as everyone else by what the Gamemakers had done. They clearly hadn't expected to be separated from their allies any more than she and Shale had expected to be separated from Beckett. Watching the Games, Careers had always seemed so certain, so powerful, so sure of themselves.
How much of it was an act?
But what they were doing now wasn't an act. They were out hunting. And if they came across another tribute – if they found and killed someone else – that wouldn't be an act. It would be real.
Indira held her rock tighter. Maybe this was the best time to go hunting. If they found any tributes, maybe they would be asleep. Killing them in their sleep – that would be more merciful, wouldn't it? After all, if they were going to die – and they would have to, eventually – there were worse ways to go. At least she could make sure that it was quick. Painless. That was the best anyone could ask for in the Games.
On they trudged, occasionally stopping to empty their boots. Into the jungle. Back out again. A little farther along the shore. Still, they found nothing. Lightning flashed, but the sky was starting to get a little lighter. She could see a little even without the flashes.
Suddenly, Shale stopped. "What's that?"
Imalia and Indira slowed, trying to look where he was pointing. "What?"
As if on cue, another flash of lightning revealed what he was looking at. Some sort of cabin, a little ways inland. Imalia smiled a little. "I'd say it looks like a good hiding place."
Imalia headed straight for the cabin, leaving Indira and Shale no choice but to follow. As they crossed the tree line, Indira thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Something moving.
Probably just a branch. Probably just the wind. If there were any tributes nearby, they would be in the cabin, not out in the rain. Indira braced herself as she and Shale followed Imalia to the entrance of the cabin. Another clap of thunder, another flash of lightning, and someone inside the cabin screamed. Imalia took another step towards the door. "Indira, you guard the door. Shale, stay back." She stepped inside.
"I've got this."
Elani Ingram, 14
District Eleven
"I've got this."
Elani barely heard the words. She was still registering the words that had come before. Shale, stay back. Shale. Shale had found them. Shale and his allies had found them.
Shale and his allies had come to kill them.
Them. Elani glanced around frantically, clutching her knife. Pan huddled close behind her, shaking. But Philus. Where was Philus? He had been on watch. He was supposed to alert them if someone was coming. Instead, the girl had simply walked in just as a clap of thunder had woken her and Pan.
Elani's mind raced. Was Philus dead? Had she killed him? No. No, there hadn't been a cannon. She would have heard it.
So he was still alive.
Another flash of lightning lit the room as the girl stepped forward. But the flash was enough to reveal Shale, standing just behind the doorway. Pan raced forward, panicked. "Shale! Help!"
But he never made it to the door. The girl's club struck his head with a terrible crack. There was no cannon – not yet – but Pan crumpled to the ground, helpless. Elani wanted to move. To run. To help him up. But she was frozen as the girl from Four stepped forward and struck his head with her club a second time.
A second time was all it took. The cannon sounded. Elani took a step back, but she couldn't keep backing up forever. Soon, her hand brushed the back wall of the cabin. Lightning flashed. The door. She could run for the door. Maybe Shale would…
No. Running hadn't helped Pan. Elani gripped her knife, her hands shaking. Tears came to her eyes, because, in that moment, she knew. No one was going to save her. There was no way out.
Suddenly, it almost seemed funny.
Elani felt a smile creep over her face. As the other girl charged, Elani let out a laugh. A good, long laugh as she sprang forward. The other girl swung high. Elani dove low. The girl dodged, but Elani thought she caught the girl's leg with her knife.
It felt good. Fighting. Not running. Not hiding. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to die huddled in a corner, begging for her life. She was going to fight for every second.
And it felt good.
The feeling didn't last. As Elani scrambled to her feet, the club caught the side of her head. Before she could strike back, a blow to the knees knocked her to the ground. Something struck her hand, and the knife slipped from her grasp. "Please," she gasped as the other girl snatched up the knife.
But she wasn't pleading for her life. And maybe that was what surprised her the most. In that moment – that brief, beautiful moment – she wasn't afraid. She was going to die. No amount of pleading was going to change that. So she repeated the word again, but this time added the second part. "Please make it quick."
The girl hesitated. But only for a moment. The blade came down. Sliced across her throat. But she could barely feel the pain.
She even smiled a little as the cannon sounded.
Imalia Grenier, 17
District Four
The girl was still smiling.
Imalia stood up. Took a step back. Then another. Cut a few strips of fabric from the bottom of her pant leg and bandaged the cut the side of her calf. The wound wasn't bad. Wasn't deep. That wasn't the worst part.
The smile was the worst part.
"Are you all right?" The voice came from the doorway. Indira. Imalia nodded. But she didn't look up. Couldn't look up.
She couldn't look at Shale.
Just then, there was a pinging noise, and something landed by the door. A parachute. Something from the sponsors. A gift.
A gift for killing two little children.
Stop it. Imalia clenched her teeth and forced herself to look. At the package. At Indira. And then at Shale. Whether it was growing lighter or whether her eyes were simply adjusting to the dark, Imalia wasn't sure. But she could see him. Clearly.
She almost wished he was crying. Or yelling at her. Cursing her. Something. Anything. But his expression was blank. Emotionless. Carefully guarded. He knew as well as any of them that he was being watched. That he would be judged based on his reaction. He couldn't afford to seem weak. Soft. Sympathetic.
And neither could she.
Imalia bent down to retrieve the package. She had no doubt it was for her. And, sure enough, the cloth that wrapped the gift was embroidered with a fluorescent "4." And since Jarlan wasn't here…
Imalia fought back a surge of anger. Jarlan should have been there. It should have been him, not Shale and Indira, standing at the door. Not because she had needed help. The two younger tributes wouldn't have stood a chance even if she had been alone. But it should have been the two of them. Together. Representing District Four.
But Indira and Shale had done what was necessary – even if that meant simply standing back and letting her fight. And she was surprised to realize she had never doubted that they would. She hadn't been worried that they might back out, step down, let the tributes escape. Even Shale didn't seem to have thought about stepping in to save his district partners.
Slowly, Imalia unwrapped the package. It was large, and heavy. Some sort of weapon. The fabric fell away, revealing a crowbar. Imalia smiled. Not because she would have chosen it as a weapon, but because it was something. And the fact that anyone was sponsoring District Four after the fiasco during the interviews was a step in the right direction.
"Okay," she said at last, gathering up the fabric from the package. "They had a knife, so there might be some other supplies. We should check the cupboards for anything else that might be useful. There's a lantern on the table; let's see if there are any matches. And we should move the bodies outside so the hovercraft can collect them." She might have been imagining things, but she thought she saw Shale's expression darken ever so slightly at the mention of the bodies. Imalia took a step closer. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"No," Shale answered immediately. Automatically. That wasn't good enough. Imalia handed him the knife she had taken from his district partner.
"How about now?"
Shale Avenheim, 18
District Eleven
It was a test.
Shale took the knife, his gaze never leaving Imalia's. She was testing him. Testing his loyalty. Was he going to be a good Career ally, or was he going to avenge his district partners? She was giving him the chance to act. The chance for a fair fight. If he was going to take it, it had to be now.
But she held all the cards now. The sponsors were on her side; they had just proven that. She hadn't slaughtered two innocent tributes in their sleep. She had killed them in a fair fight. Pan had been trying to run, but Elani had attacked her first. She had done everything by the book. Made all the right moves.
So why did it feel wrong?
They would never have survived, anyway. Could never have survived, if he wanted to go home. They'd had to die. And at least she had made it quick. She could have prolonged their suffering. She could have made him watch while she tortured his district partners. She could have insisted that he be the one to kill them. That would have been a test. Then there would have been a choice.
Instead, she had told him to stay back. To stay out of the fight. And now there was no choice. No choice at all. Killing her wouldn't change what had happened. Elani and Pan were dead. And, sooner or later, they would have had to die, anyway. Maybe it was better that it happened now. That they'd apparently had one last night in relative comfort before…
Before his ally had killed them. Before he had stood by and watched them die. But what choice had he had? What choice did he have now? "No," he said at last. "It's not a problem. I'll bring them outside." He tucked the knife in his pocket.
The bodies were light. He could probably have carried them both at once, but, instead, he took his time. Pan was closer to the door, so Shale lifted him first. Laid him under one of the trees outside. Then he returned for Elani, and laid her beside him. It was only then that he fully realized what he must have noticed before:
One of them was missing.
There should have been three. They had always been together. They had barely left each other's side since the reaping. During the train rides, the chariot rides, training – it had always been the three of them.
So where was the other one?
Philus. Not 'the other one.' Philus. Maybe he was still nearby. Even if he had seen them coming and run, he couldn't be far away. Shale stood up and took a step back from the bodies of his younger district partners. That much, at least, he could do for them. He could remain silent. Sooner or later, Philus would join them, but it didn't have to be tonight. And it didn't have to be at the hands of his allies.
Yes. Yes, he could do that. He could let Philus go. Surely even the Capitol couldn't fault him for that. Shale turned and headed back inside the cabin as the hovercraft descended.
It was over.
Philus Polaine, 13
District Eleven
It was over.
Philus watched from a distance as the hovercraft descended, retrieved the bodies, then disappeared again into the pouring rain. He couldn't see the bodies, but he knew. He had known the moment he had seen the three Careers approaching.
Everyone in the cabin was dead.
Philus turned and kept running. It was just luck, really, that he had seen them coming. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he had volunteered to keep watch. But even that had made him restless, so he had ventured outside the cabin. He hadn't meant to go far. He had just wanted to look out at the ocean.
But he had seen them, instead.
He could have run back to the cabin. Could have tried to wake the others. Maybe they could have made it out before the Careers got there. But then what? There was no way they could have made it out without being noticed. So what would have stopped the Careers from chasing down all three of them?
Instead, only two of them were dead.
Philus brushed the tears from his eyes, trying desperately to keep from sobbing. He had only thought it through afterwards. In that moment, seeing the Careers, he hadn't really thought about the options. He hadn't even thought of going back to warn the others. He had been too afraid to think. He had simply run.
And now his allies were dead.
The water sloshed in Philus' boots as he slowed to a fast walk, trying to breathe. Trying not to think. Trying not to picture what must have happened. Had they screamed? Had they begged for mercy? For once, he was glad he couldn't have heard them if they had. He didn't want to hear that.
He didn't want to imagine it.
Elani had a knife. Maybe she had escaped. Maybe she had even managed to kill one of them. How many cannons had there been? He had felt the vibrations in the air, but, so far, he hadn't been able to tell the difference between a cannon and thunder. He had been relying on Elani and Pan to keep him up to date on how many tributes were dead.
And now they were gone. He was on his own. Finally, Philus collapsed next to a tree along the shore, sobbing. What was he supposed to do now? They had been relying on each other – the three of them. They hadn't left each other's side since the train rides.
Until now. He had left them. He had left them to die. And, if they had somehow managed to survive, they would never forgive him. But he could understand that. Because he already knew he would never forgive himself.
Maybe he should have stayed and died with them.
Philus lay down, exhausted, almost wishing the Careers would find him. How long would he last on his own? He had no weapons. No food. No supplies. And no allies. Maybe it would be better to get it over with. Maybe Elani and Pan were the lucky ones.
He closed his eyes.
India Telle, 17
District Three
Her eyes shot open as the cannon sounded.
India sat up, startled, just in time for the second cannon. The thunder had woken her several times during the night, fooling her into thinking that maybe a cannon had sounded. But these ones were real. Someone had died.
Two someones, by the sound of it. India rubbed her eyes. It felt like she had barely slept at all. Every time she started to drift off, something had woken her again. A noise. The rain. Even her own thoughts.
India stood up slowly and put her boots back on. If she couldn't sleep, then she might as well keep moving. The sky was starting to get a little brighter. Almost dawn.
The second day of the Games.
India shook her head, staring out at the ocean. A whole day, and what did she have to show for it? She had made a kill, yes, but it had earned her nothing. She still had no food. No supplies. No weapons except the rocks she had found. She had assumed that if she made an impression, the sponsors would send her something. That was how the Games worked, wasn't it?
It wasn't as if there had been that many deaths, either. Counting the two cannons that had just sounded, there had been ten. And she had been responsible for one.
What did she have to do to get their attention?
Maybe it had been the way she had killed. It had been bloody, yes, but it had been relatively quick. Painless. Maybe that wasn't what the audience wanted, especially this year. Maybe they wanted more blood. More pain. More fear.
So that was what she would give them.
India gripped a rock in her hand as she headed for the jungle. That was where most of the tributes had gone. So that was where she would find what she needed.
That was where she would find her next victim.
Victim. No, she didn't like the sound of that. It made her sound cruel. Harsh. And she didn't want to be cruel. She just wanted to be interesting. She just wanted to be worthy of their attention.
And if she had to be cruel to get it, then that was their fault.
Sariya Charsley, 16
District Nine
It wasn't her fault.
Sariya said nothing as Thane woke her for the next watch. He was silent, too. He blamed her, she knew. Blamed her for losing the girl they had been chasing. If she hadn't been so clumsy – if she hadn't tripped – then they might have caught her. There might have been eleven cannons so far instead of ten. Which didn't seem like much, maybe, but every cannon brought her that much closer to home.
It wasn't as if she had meant to trip. The boots they had been given simply weren't made for running. It was a wonder more of the tributes weren't tripping over themselves. Maybe they were. She had just happened to trip at the wrong time. It wasn't her fault.
In fact, if it was anyone's fault, it was Thane's. He could have kept running instead of waiting for her. He could have caught the girl. Given her time to catch up. They could still have killed her.
Sariya shook her head as Thane lay down to sleep. For all she knew, he hadn't even wanted to catch her. For all she knew, he would have stopped and given up the chase, anyway. She had simply given him an excuse. If it hadn't been that, it would have been something else. Why had he even agreed to join this alliance in the first place?
Sariya sighed. Who was she kidding? Why had either of them agreed to join this alliance? Why had Septimus even asked them? It was obvious they weren't killers. Maybe they should have stuck with just the three of them. Just them and Delvin…
Delvin. Sariya leaned back against a tree. She had been trying not to think about that. About the fact that he was still out there somewhere. Alone. Alive, as far as they knew – as long as none of the three cannons since the anthem had been his. They all knew it, but no one had suggested that they try to find him.
But where were they supposed to look? The replacement tributes could very well be on the other side of the island completely. In fact, for all they knew, they were in a completely different arena. Some of the faces in the sky had belonged to tributes from the other group – one of the boys from Six, one of the girls from Seven. But that didn't give them any hint about where the other tributes were. Looking for Delvin was probably pointless.
Probably.
Sariya shook the thought from her head. If their positions were reversed, would Delvin be looking for her? Would any of them? And would she really expect them to? No. No, they had all been clear on the unspoken terms of their alliance. They would help each other – maybe even protect each other – but, when it came down to it, they weren't the sort of allies who would lay down their lives for each other. Delvin had gotten unlucky, and that was a shame, but there were still five of them. And they weren't about to risk five of them to try to save one.
It was simple math.
Inviticus Cassiano, 18
District One
"It's simple math."
Inviticus rolled his eyes as Jaime kept rambling. He hadn't asked for a lecture. He had simply suggested that they should go after Septimus' group. That they should focus on taking out their strongest opponents first. And, whether he liked acknowledging it or not, with the two tributes from Four gone, Septimus and Liana's group was probably their only real competition in the area.
"Five against three," Jaime continued. "And there's no way they wouldn't see us coming. Besides, it's not like we even know where they are. All we have is some idea that they probably went into the jungle. It's a big jungle; they could be anywhere by now."
Inviticus sighed. "Fine, fine. So where do you suggest we go?"
Jaime shook her head. "I don't see any reason for the plan to change. We stay close to the beach, look for food and look for tributes at the same time – two birds with one stone."
"And we should listen to you because your plans have worked so well so far," Inviticus offered sarcastically. "How did allying with District Four work out for you two?"
"Well, if you're going to have that attitude, maybe we should have just let Auster kill you," Jaime retorted.
"As if he could have. I saw him coming a mile away." He hadn't, though. That was the frightening part. He had expected District Four to betray them, of course. But not so soon. He had never imagined that Auster would come after him in the bloodbath. If Jaime hadn't stepped in…
But he couldn't admit that. Not to her. Not in front of the cameras. Not if he wanted to impress the audience. The Capitol. District One. His mentors. They were all counting on him. He couldn't afford to appear weak.
Which meant they had to leave. They couldn't waste any more time sitting around in an empty hovercraft. But they also couldn't afford to just go walking along the beach looking for clams and fish and just hoping that they stumbled across a tribute or two. They needed a plan for finding them.
Especially since there were only three of them. A larger pack could split up. Cover more ground. A larger pack with real weapons – not screwdrivers, wrenches, and pocketknives – would make short work of the tributes in this arena.
But they weren't a larger pack. And they didn't have better weapons. And they weren't likely to anytime soon – not unless they did something to impress the sponsors.
He just wished he knew what.
Inviticus sighed. Until they came up with something better, Jaime's plan would have to do. "Fine, then," he grumbled. "The shore it is." He gathered up his screwdrivers, trying to imagine stabbing a tribute or two in the eye. That made him feel a little better.
"All right, then," Jaime agreed. "Let's get going."
Barry Zephir, 15
District Twelve
They had to keep going.
Barry glanced towards the tree line as the lightning flashed again. Nothing but trees. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. A couple times, he had seen something. A bit of movement in the trees.
He had tried to tell himself that it was probably nothing. Maybe a mutt. Maybe just the wind and the rain rustling the branches.
But what if it wasn't?
"Barry, wait!" Eleanor called over the rain. Barry halted once more, waiting for her to catch up, trying to mask his annoyance for the sponsors' sake. They had to look like a team. They had to act like a team. Brennan had told them from the start that he thought their alliance was a good idea.
So why did it feel like he was pulling all the weight?
Barry shifted uneasily as Eleanor finally caught up to him. Again. Barry clenched his teeth. It should have been obvious to him during training just how unprepared she was. But he had been so eager to have an ally – any ally – that he had overlooked the fact that she probably hadn't run more than a block or two in her life. She was breathing hard, bent over in the rain as she struggled to catch her breath. "Barry, don't you think we should stop?"
Barry hesitated. He was tired, too, of course. His legs were beginning to ache. His heart was pounding – but whether from exertion or from fright, he wasn't sure. He shook his head. "I told you – we need to keep moving in case—"
"—In case someone's following us," Eleanor finished, winded. "Barry, have you seen anyone all night? We're alone out here. I'm not saying we should stay here forever. But couldn't we rest for an hour or two? Get our strength back?"
He almost said yes. His legs, his arms, his whole body ached, begging him to stop. Just for a little while. But part of him knew – knew that 'a little while' would likely turn into ... well, more than that. Could they afford to stop? Maybe. Maybe the shape in the trees was his imagination. Maybe.
But maybe not.
Barry shook his head stubbornly. "You stay here and rest if you want to. I'm going to keep moving."
Silence for a moment. "Okay. I'll catch up."
Barry blinked. That wasn't the answer he'd expected. He'd hoped that his words would goad her into continuing, that she wouldn't want to be shown up by her younger district partner. He hadn't really meant to suggest that they split up. But, apparently, she was too tired to care about what the sponsors might think if she couldn't keep up the pace.
Maybe just for a little while.
Barry sighed. "Okay. You win. We'll rest. But only for a little while. Then we need to keep moving."
Eleanor sank down immediately onto one of the rocks. "Thank you."
Barry nodded. "We've got to stick together, right?"
"Right." She stretched a little. "Could you wake me in … five minutes or so?"
Barry clenched his teeth. When he'd said 'rest,' he hadn't meant 'sleep.' "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "But only five minutes. Then we need to keep moving."
He just hoped he had done the right thing.
Tamsin Lane
District Eleven Mentor
"Why didn't he do something?"
Tamsin slid into a seat next to Elijah. "Like what?" she asked. "Like take on his Career ally with nothing more than a stick to save his district partners who were going to die, anyway? Or maybe you meant afterwards, when she offered him a knife. Are you asking why he didn't take her challenge to fight for a few tributes who were already dead?"
"I … I don't know," Elijah admitted. "I just expected … something."
"That's because you're sentimental. You're the guy who left his allies in the middle of the night because you were worried you weren't pulling your weight. You're the guy who suggested I tell the whole Capitol I was in love with Marion because it would win me points with the sponsors. You're the guy who told a tribute last year to make his own choice about whether to join the rebels because it should be his decision. You're sweet, Eli, but sometimes I wonder how you made it out of your Games alive."
"But Shale—"
"Isn't an idiot. And that's why he's still alive. What do you think would have happened if he'd decided to take on Imalia? What do you really think would have happened?"
"Maybe if Indira—"
"No. They make a good team, but don't think for a moment that Indira would fall on her sword for him – especially if the fight was just to avenge two tributes who were already dead. She's not an idiot. And neither is he."
"I just…" Elijah trailed off.
Tamsin nodded to Eldred, who poured a pair of drinks. Tamsin handed one to Elijah. "Here. Tell you what. Take this and drink until it feels like he did the right thing. I'll do the same for Philus. Whoever feels better about themselves first gets to mentor an extra tribute or two next year, just to even things out."
Elijah finally smiled a little. "An extra or two?"
Tamsin shrugged. "Yeah. One if Shale somehow makes it out alive and gets to share with us. Two if he doesn't. The other person only mentors one. Deal?"
"Or if Philus makes it out alive," Elijah pointed out.
Tamsin shook her head. "Eli, if a miracle happens and Philus somehow makes it out of that arena alive, he'll be in no condition to mentor. Even forgetting the fact that he wouldn't be able to actually talk to the people he'd be mentoring, that guilt he already has would eat him alive. Look at Kit. Look at Avery. He'd be in the same boat. He'd probably be better off if the Careers found him right now and put him out of his misery."
Elijah couldn't hide a look of surprise. "He's your tribute."
"And I'll keep doing my job, but, look, I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. So—" She raised her glass again. "Deal?"
Elijah nodded. "Deal."
"I didn't know him, but I remember his courage. And I know he will be missed."