Raised to Fight, Born to Die: The District 2 Tributes

Sorry it took me a little longer to update this chapter. Like the last chapter, I had to go over the Hunger Games book several times to get the events and dead tributes right. (Warning: Minor swearing.)

Comments, reviews and feedback are appreciated. Thank you!

(Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters.)

~*~*~X~*~*~

Chapter 7: Three Fires

~*~*~X~*~*~

Cato

Right as we are walking toward the forest, I hear buzzing sounds. I automatically think of the tracker jackers, and I whirl around.

When we went to submerge ourselves in the lake, we didn't fend off all the tracker jackers. There's a small group of them bothering Nero, and he's trying to swat them away. I can tell he's already been stung too many times, though; his movements are slower, less calculated. As if he is forcing his arms to move. His eyes never fully focus on one object; he's already hallucinating.

Marvel, Clove and I find ourselves walking a lot quicker than before, desperate to get away from the deadly wasps.

When we walk past the edge of the meadow, I look behind us, over to the huge drop near the lake.

"What?" Clove says, noticing me looking back.

I point with my chin. "Think he's ever gonna come out?" I ask, squinting my eyes against the setting sun.

Clove shrugs. "He'll have too, soon enough. There's not many of us left."

I frown. "Do me a favor and call me if he attacks you."

"I can take him by myself," Clove says defensively.

"I'm sure you can, but still. He's bigger and stronger than you. If he's close enough to you, you'll be at the disadvantage if you don't run," I explain. She'd better not think she can get away with attacking him by herself.

She only rolls her eyes. "I'm not helpless, Cato," she says, and I see annoyance in her expression.

"You will be if he gets his hands on you."

"He won't get his hands on me."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

I look at her for a long moment, but I eventually give in. "Fine," I snap. "But call me anyway. I'll be your backup if you need it."

"Fine."

~*~*~X~*~*~

Clove

When Cato and I were talking neither of us noticed we stopped walking altogether. We both turn, startled, when Marvel calls to us fifty feet away. "Let's go!" he says, beckoning with his hands.

Cato and I jog toward Marvel. "I set my traps," he says. He gestures to the forest around us. "See if you can find the closest one," he says proudly.

I raise my eyebrows at Cato and he only shrugs. We both go looking, walking anywhere within a twenty-foot radius, looking for the nets.

I look all around me, examining every tree, every patch of dirt. Every plant. Every now and then I test the ground in front of me with long stick, hoping to trigger the trap before I can get caught in it myself. In the corner of my eye, I see Marvel isn't able to keep the huge smile off is face.

I am walking when I see the slightest change in the dirt color in front of me. I smirk. The net. A clever way to trap an unsuspecting tribute. You'd have to be smart with a really good eye to see the trap. And yes, I'm smart and have a really good eye, thank you very much.

Cato's smart and all as well, but he isn't really paying attention. So when he walks straight toward the trap I yell, "No!" at the last minute. Too late. He steps one foot onto the darker patch of soil and the net instantly wraps itself around his body, pulling Cato straight up into the tree above us. Cato is swearing his head off and I fall to the ground, rolling with so much laughter my stomach begins to hurt.

"Damnit!" Cato yells with madness echoing in his voice. Just looking at him sets me off again. He's in what looks like a super uncomfortable position in the net, almost upside down with one of his legs sprawled out a hole in the net. Marvel comes over laughing, and he yanks the rope to the net down, causing the net to fall to the ground with no warning. Cato hits the ground howling in pain, and that only makes Marvel and me laugh more.

"Asshole," he spits at Marvel, but Marvel is laughing too much to take him seriously.

After Cato calms down, Marvel resets his net, placing the rope back where it was after reburying the net in the ground so the victim can't see it. These nets will work. I can tell.

I guess Marvel is pretty useful after all.

~*~*~X~*~*~

We really need an antidote to the venom. And fast.

Marvel's already throwing up. Cato's on and off, having fits that make him yell at no one. Then Marvel or I will grab his arm, making him jerk back to reality. As for me? All I see are those damned birds, the bright green ones that were "attacking" me earlier. I see bright colors and my vision sometimes gets fuzzy. I never know what's real and what's not until Cato shakes me by my shoulders, waking me up. I even threw up once.

But we're not letting any of that stop us from winning the Games. So now here we are out in the forest, looking for tributes, occasionally stopping when one of us is having a fit.

Fortunately, Marvel knows a little bit about tracking. Probably learned how to track the same time he learned how to trap people with his nets. We're on someone's trail, and we've been following it the whole night.

Right after Marvel throws up again, I see movement through the trees. "Over there!" Cato yells as Marvel slowly gets to his feet.

I look in the direction Cato's pointing. Sure enough, I laugh cheerfully, all effects of the venom subdued, and I dash forward without hesitation. Cato and Marvel are right on my heels.

The figure in front of us runs, and by the way he's running I can tell the person has a bad limp. I think back to earlier parts in the Games, which helps me to remember who this person is.

"It's the boy from Ten!" I call over my shoulder. Cato yells some intimidating words at the boy, attempting to scare him.

Scare him, he did. The boy ran even faster, and I only think to myself, It's a miracle he can still run on that leg.

Of course, the chase doesn't last too long. I am whooping with excitement as the boy noticeably slows down. He's getting tired.

We, being Careers, are only warming up.

I run faster than before. Cato and Marvel keep up with me, and soon the boy falls, having tripped over a tree root. We are upon him in an instant, Cato taking out his sword. The boy barely manages to take out a puny, pathetic looking knife when Cato stabs his sword into the boy's stomach, making a huge red stain on his jacket. The boy gasps with pain, whimpering. I take out my knife, crouch down next to him, and trace the outline of his face with my knife, not afraid to really dig into his skin. Then Cato yanks out his sword out of the boy's gaping stomach and stabs the boy again in his heart. His head rolls back. A cannon sounds a few moments later, confirming he is dead.

"Nine to go," Marvel says with a grin. I laugh and with that, we set on after scavenging what we can from the boy's supplies.

It is late morning now, birds chirping high up in the trees, the strong sun shining on our faces. I notice a pair of mockingjays humming some kind of four note tune as they fly through the trees. The tune is catchy, and I end up humming it for the next five minutes.

And then I throw up again.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Cato

Clove's fits are getting worse.

Sometimes, she's okay, acting all normal, when suddenly the tracker jacker venom takes over her body, making her heave and writhe on the ground. Other times she'll be swatting her hands at the empty air around her, as if she's trying to defend herself against something. Whatever the venom's introducing to her head, no doubt.

It happens to me too, but I seem to have more luck than the others.

Marvel, though, is going through the worst.

I've heard people's immune systems react differently to tracker jacker venom compared to others. One time Marvel broke out into a run, running to something or away from something, I don't know. Marvel's not only hallucinating, but he's throwing up more and more often. I think the smell's starting to stick to our clothes. Disgusting, am I right?

"We can't keep going," Clove says breathlessly. "We have to turn back."

I don't like this idea, but what else can we do? I don't really care about Marvel, but the venom is really starting to get to Clove. If we keep going like this any longer, she might even die.

"Fine," I say after a moment's hesitation. I help her up and we turn back toward camp.

It takes us longer than before to get there. It is late afternoon now, and the sun is beating down on us hotter than ever.

We get back to camp and we all sit down, finally getting to rest. I take the time now to examine the lumps on my body from each of the tracker jacker stingers. I got stung eight times. Clove got stung eleven times. Marvel got stung fifteen times. Our lumps are red and swollen. If we hadn't pulled the stingers out, it would have been much, much worse.

I am looking through the supply piles again for any kind of medicine. I have a few bottles of different creams that we all try, including Nero, who has gotten stung ten times, but none of them work. We desperately need sponsors. Now.

We sit and do nothing. What else can we do? The best we can do is beg for sponsors. Normally, we would have gotten what we needed by now, so I know something's up.

Suddenly, I see dark smoke billowing up toward the blue sky.

"Look!" I yell as loud as I can. Clove is sitting by herself in the tent, and Marvel and Nero are all the way by the supply piles, so I yell loudly, letting them hear me.

Everyone looks.

Someone has lit a fire.

"In the middle of the day? Really?" Marvel says disbelievingly. "That's just asking for trouble."

"And trouble will find them," Clove says with a knowing smile directed at me. I smirk and the three of us immediately begin loading up on weapons and food, going as fast as we can.

"Nero, get your spears," I say immediately.

Clove stops in her tracks. "He stays here. Someone needs to watch the supplies." Marvel says in a matter-of-factly tone.

"He's coming!" I say impatiently. "We need him in the woods, and his job's done here anyway," I continue. "No one can touch those supplies."

"What about Lover Boy?" Marvel asks accusingly.

"I keep telling you, forget about him," I say in exasperation. "I know where I cut him. It's a miracle he hasn't bled to death yet," I say, picturing the cut on his leg in my head. "At any rate, he's in no shape to raid us."

"If you say so," Marvel says hesitantly, still doubtful.

"Come on," I say. I toss a spear to Nero and we take off in a light jog toward the forest's edge.

Another thing comes to mind. "When we find her, I kill her in my own way," I order, "And no one interferes." They know who I'm talking about. Clove gives me a knowing look, and I know she can trust me to make sure the Girl on Fire will die an agonizingly slow and painful death. I smile in anticipation.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Clove

We finally get to the fire, but to our surprise, no one is there.

"Seriously?!" Clove throws her hands up in the air when I confirm we've found nothing. She grimaces in disappointment and kicks a rock.

We examine the campsite for a little while, looking for any kind of tracks that could lead us to this mysterious tribute. There's nothing. Not one footprint. I can't stop the roar from escaping my throat as I stab my sword into the ground. I really wanted to use it.

Marvel wanders off a little farther in search of tracks.

I try to remember who's still alive. Marvel, Cato, Nero and I, obviously. Plus Thresh, his district partner, both tributes from Twelve. Oh, and the girl from Five.

It can't be Lover Boy, he's too badly injured to move. Thresh is in his field, so that leaves Katniss, the girl from Five and the girl from Eleven. It could be any of them. I try to pull together anything I can remember from the reapings, interviews, and training scores of the girls from Five and Eleven. They never really stood out to me, and I don't even know what the girl from Five looks like.

I'm not getting any closer to figuring it out. We have no idea who could have been here, so close to our Career pack, and not be noticed by us.

So I give up and just sit there, waiting for Marvel to come back.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Clove

When I think Cato is not looking, I sneak a look at him. I know how badly he wants to win. But I think about how high the chances are of us two being the last tributes in the arena. How we will have to fight to the death. I can tell Cato will hesitate when it comes to that point; we're friends…well, as close to friends we can get, giving the current circumstances. But what we have, what relationship we've formed over the past two weeks, is what will make him hesitate.

And in his hesitation I will strike.

Marvel comes bursting out of the bushes, pointing up in the sky behind him. "Another fire," he says.

Cato and I jump up in shock. "Another one?" Cato asks suspiciously.

Sure enough, we all look toward where Marvel is pointing, and we see more smoke rising toward the afternoon sky.

"That can't be coincidence," I say. I don't believe in coincidences.

"I don't know what the deal is," Marvel says, "But we should try one more time. Maybe we can get there before the person leaves."

I doubt Marvel's idea, but it's worth a shot. What else is there to do? We don't know where any of the other tributes are except Thresh, who won't come out of his little grass field.

"Let's go," I say to Cato. He nods and we both run toward the second fire.

When we get there, I realize this campsite looks exactly the same as the last. Empty.

"Where's Marvel?" Cato says, turning his head to look behind us.

Marvel stumbles up to us. "Tracker venom," he says. Oh. He probably threw up again. It's worse now though; Marvel's skin is pale and sallow looking, and I know the venom will have its way with him soon. And me soon after, if we don't get sponsors. Where were they? Surely we would have gotten something by now. Last I saw Brutus, he told me we had a ton. So where were they?

~*~*~X~*~*~

Cato

"It's the same as the last damn fire!" I exclaim, getting impatient.

Marvel walks off again in search of anything that proves someone was here. I sit there, taking a huge gulp of water. Clove is fiddling with a curved knife, leaning against a huge boulder, and Nero is pacing back and forth.

"They can't have gone far," I say. Clove nods and Nero ignores me.

"Why would someone build a fire and then just leave it? What kind of careless mistake is that?" Nero says, speaking his thoughts aloud.

"I don't think it's a mistake," Clove butts in. "No one still alive in this arena would be that stupid, or they'd have gotten themselves killed by now," she says, her brows narrowing in concentration. She has a point. But why would someone want to lead us off on a false trail away from our camp?

Wait a minute. Away from our camp. Away from our camp.

I put myself in this other tribute's perspective. Why would I want to lead the Careers on a false trail?

To distract them, of course.

Distract them from what?

My question gets answered when we hear a loud BOOM! The ground shakes a little, knocking me off balance.

Cato and I look straight at each other with realization in our gazes. "The supplies," I whisper. Without hesitating, the four of us make a wild, mad dash for the lake, where our beloved supply piles lie.

We run and run, as fast as we can. My heart pounds with the action. I promise myself whoever set off those bombs will be dead when I get there, if they aren't already.

"I told you Nero should have stayed!" Clove yells.

Cato bursts through the trees bordering the meadow, the rest of us right behind him. Cato reacts first, grabbing fistfuls of his blond hair and pounding on the ground, every punch hot with fury. He roars in anger, and I let out a string of curses. Marvel tries to calm us down.

Nero walks forward with stones in his hand. He throws each stone where a bomb was originally buried, making sure they won't blow up on us later.

Nero calls back to us. "It's safe!"

The three of us walk forward, hoping to scavenge as much as we can, but there's nothing. In my peripheral vision, I see Cato kicking boxes aside, muttering to himself furiously. There's absolutely nothing left! What are we supposed to do now, starve?

Then, out of nowhere, Cato turns and charges toward Nero, yelling his head off. "This is your fault!" he bellows. "We told you to make damn sure that if one bomb goes off, the rest will stay inactive so the rest of our supplies are safe! And now they're gone!"

Nero says nothing, only turns and attempts to run away.

Mistake.

Cato is too fast. Nero doesn't get one foot away before Cato's hands reach his neck, snapping it sideways. Nero falls to the ground and a cannon sounds.

So long, Nero.

I sling Nero's backpack full of food and weapons over y shoulder. We walk away from the body so the hovercraft can pick it up. It is evening now, and we have to figure out what we're going to do about our supplies.

"We still have our four backpacks," I say.

Marvel goes still. "Glimmer," he says.

My eyes widen in realization. Glimmer's backpack. There's still food in there.

"We'd have to go back to the tracker jacker nest," I say.

Marvel shrugs. "They'll be long gone by now," he says.

"Forget Glimmer's stuff," Cato snaps. "We need to start eliminating people. We're down to the final eight." If we don't starve first.

"Seven," I correct, shaking my head. "Whoever bombed our supplies is definitely dead," I say, pointing toward the sky, where the Panem seal will soon appear along with the faces of Nero and our bomber.

"We still need to hunt," insists Cato.
He's right. By now, they'll start interviewing our families about how they're feeling now that their child has made it this far in the Games. Now that the weaklings have been weeded out, the competition really gets intense. Let the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games begin.

We all light our torches to help us see in the night. Then we stride into the forest to hunt.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Soon the seal of our country appears in the sky, and Nero's photo appears. Then the anthem plays, and the sky goes black.

All three of us were paying close attention. And only Nero showed up.

That could only mean one thing…

The bomber survived.

A new kind of rage fills me, and I feel like slamming my torch on the ground. Cato roars in anger and says, "We have to find them! Whoever bombed our supplies - they did it on purpose."

I nod. That we know. I look around us, through the trees, and I know we have to find the bomber.

"Let's go," Marvel says with a growl, and we jump up with a grim determination to find and kill whoever made a fool of us today.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Cato

We travel for a long time, not finding anyone. After a while we get to a stream and we follow it, hoping another tribute may be depending on it as their water source. No luck.

We start to retreat slowly back toward the Cornucopia but using a different route to cover more ground. The walk is nothing, but I'm getting restless, and so are Clove and Marvel.

It is day now. We've been travelling all night and all morning, and we're getting closer to the Cornucopia again.

Marvel stops in his tracks. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That scream."

"What?"

"Someone screamed."

Clove shakes her head. "No one-"

"Shh." We all strain our ears. Nothing.

Marvel takes off in a run. He darts in between trees and out of sight.

"What was that about?" Clove says.

We both stand there, perplexed. Then I shrug. "The jacker venom probably made him hear something." I shrug again. "Let's just get moving. He can track. He knows how to find us if he wants to rejoin us."

Clove and I decide to stay away from the Cornucopia for now. After the explosion, no one's going to bother trying to steal our supplies, and since the supplies themselves are all gone, what's the point?

"So it's just the two of us now," I say hesitantly.

Clove just nods. "And there are eight of us left."

"Yeah." I don't know what else to say, so I just shut up. Eight of us left. A thought nags at me from the back of my mind: I know I'll have to kill Clove in the end. Not Marvel. Not Thresh. Me. No one else is able to kill her. Thresh will be able to, maybe, but I won't let that happen. Now I realize I must be the one to kill her, because, why not admit it? I love her. I've met her before several times back home, but I really got to know her in these last few weeks. She understands me. She calms me down when I get too mad. She keeps me sane. I'm the only one in this arena who loves fighting and killing as much as she does. Anyone else - those weaklings who cower around, hoping not to die, those cowards who don't want to kill, they're worth nothing. And Clove is worth too much.

~*~*~X~*~*~

We finally decide to stop and rest. It's dark now, and the seal of Panem appears in the air. Clove and I look up out of curiosity.

Marvel.

The girl from District Eleven.

Then the anthem plays and the sky goes dark.

My face snaps up to meet Clove's gaze. Something happened. Someone killed the girl from Eleven, that I can believe, but Marvel? I would think he'd survive longer.

"Someone killed them. They probably fought, no Career goes down without a fight," Clove says.

"Except Leena," I say. That earns a laugh from Clove. Leena, a pathetic excuse for a Career. A coward. Someone who runs instead of fights. She may have been smart, but she's nowhere near worthy to have the Career title if you ask me.

"You think it was Thresh?" Clove asks.

I shake my head. "He's in his field."

Clove gives me a look. "How do we know he didn't leave?"

"What, and kill his own district partner? Only Careers even think of doing that."

"No," Clove says, shaking her head, "Maybe Marvel killed her or something. And then Thresh killed Marvel."

"If Thresh were out of that field we'd have ran into him by now!"

"I know, but who else do you think could have killed Marvel!?"

We both go silent, the same person having entered our thoughts.

"The Girl on Fire," Clove mutters.

"Katniss," I say. "Well, she did get an Eleven. That forces us to pay her some attention." My brows furrow in pure hatred for this girl, someone who thinks they can beat Clove and I in the Games.

No one will beat us, I can tell you that.

Well, scratch that. No one will beat Clove but me.

~*~*~X~*~*~

"So there's six of us left," Clove summarizes. "That we know. There's you and me, Thresh, and the 'Tributes on Fire,'" Clove mocks.

"There's one more."

She shrugs. "No idea who it is," she says dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

I hesitate for a moment before I speak up. "When I stabbed Lover Boy, he was trying to help Katniss escape."

Clove looks at me with curiosity. "Yeah. And?"

"Before I left…I saw her. Katniss. She was grabbing Glimmer's bow and arrows. The silver ones."

Clove is quiet for a second. "You could have killed her. And she still went for the bow?"

I nod.

"She must need it badly then," Clove concludes. "Maybe that's her weapon? Maybe that's how she got that Eleven."

"I bet it is."

Clove grins. "Well, now we know more about her." She yawns.

"Go to bed," I say. "We'll need our rest for tomorrow."

"Okay."

I lie down on the dirt. I beckon for Clove to come and sleep next to me and she raises her eyebrows.

"What? I'm cold." I pat the ground again.

She rolls her eyes, but eventually she comes and lies down next to me.

We fall asleep looking at the stars.

~*~*~X~*~*~

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. R&R please, I'd appreciate it! -B