Chapter Thirteen
I wake up, realizing that my tired body must've forced me to sleep some last night. Maybe an hour? Two…tops. I pull myself out of bed and head straight for the television. I pause a second before turning on the television, savoring the moment where I don't know if Katniss is dead or not. I don't last long. I press the power button and the recap is starting.
The Careers sit in the woods, talking about something that I have no interest in. Then, it happens.
A huge, unnatural wall of fire comes crashing towards the pack. Stunned, they pause a moment before gathering their things and heading out of there. I knew it. The game makers probably fear that the audience is getting bored, so they need a way to drive the tributes together.
Then, the screen cuts to another tribute, also noticing the fire. I don't recognize him, but he, too, runs desperately for a way out.
Then, Katniss comes on screen. Resting peacefully in her tree, she doesn't wake right away. My eyelids snap open and I can feel my pulse quickening. Wake up! My whole body seems to be screaming. But I remain still, lost in Katniss's world of survival.
Katniss opens her eyes and looks at the massive wall of flames. Quickly, she undoes the belt that holds her in the tree and hits the ground running.
Just as sudden as she came onscreen, she is off and another tribute is featured. That must mean they don't have much time for a recap, that they have so much action to fit in. That's not good at all.
I watch anxiously as the screen cuts away, and back to Katniss. She runs for a while, and I'm assuming this lasted much longer than what the program depicts. I can tell she desperately tries to avoid the violent flames that so desperately try to catch her. She tries following animals' paths, a smart tactic, but she can't keep up for long. Soon, Katniss is bending over and throwing up, but she continues surging forward, her need for survival and the heat and smoke are the only things that exist.
She's throwing up all the food she just ate. Everything that supplied her with energy. Gone. But she must keep going, she has to keep going.
The urgency spinning through my head makes me feel as if I'm in the burning woods, close enough to touch the fire and feel the smoke scorching my throat.
Then, after showing some of the other tributes' escapes, the recap is over. That's all that happened last night. I stare at the television, waiting for more, but my mother comes into the room, disturbing my concentration.
"Gale, you need to go get ready for school, I'll watch the games for you, if anything happens… well, I'll let you know." my mother says.
I nod, but I don't understand. Let me know? I don't want to just be notified if my best friend is burned alive by a mass of flames, or dies painfully, not able to breathe from smoke inhalation. Regardless of the millions of protests welling up inside of me, I find the willpower in my body to drag myself to my room and get dressed. As I pull on my shirt, I listen closely for any signs of distress from my mother. A scream, a yell, perhaps even a small gasp and I'll be racing out to the living room.
I'm finally physically ready for school, but not yet emotionally ready to tear myself away from the television. I go out into the living room where my mother is watching the games. I see Katniss on the screen and I stop abruptly.
She continues to run, looking as though she could fall over and die any moment. I've seen this look on tributes in the Hunger Games all of the time, but seeing it in my best friend is too much for me. My eyes widen and I stare blankly at the screen.
Out of nowhere, I fireball zooms through the air and Katniss dodges it by a hair's breadth. Every muscle in my body jerks myself forward towards the television, but somehow I restrain myself from screaming. Probably because I've forgotten how to speak.
Another fireball shoots out and Katniss makes her way away from it. This is undoubtedly another of the game makers' tricks. Then I realize that if they wanted to, the game makers could kill Katniss right here and now. They have the power to send a fireball directly at Katniss, true in aim, unable to fail. But right now they're just teasing her, playing with her, seeing if she'll dodge their futile attempts to kill.
"Gale, you must go, look at the time." my mother says urgently.
The thought of leaving now is impossible. I can't go.
I shake my head.
My mother sighs. This is just what she feared. "Look, she's in the games. She's never completely safe, Gale. So whether you leave when she's nestled in a tree or fire is shot at her, it doesn't matter. You have to get to school. Or else you won't get a job and you won't be able to feed either family. That doesn't help anybody. You can't live in a shell, you're not in the games. There's nothing you can do, except let it all consume you. Don't let that happen." my mother pleads.
With a sinking heart, I know she's right. I need to graduate school, I've only got a week or two left. And my commitment to feeding Katniss's family is greater than my commitment to staying by her side. She probably doesn't care if I'm watching her, because she's focused on survival, or at least, she better be. She'll never know if I'm sitting on the couch, staring as she clings madly onto life. She'll want me in school, or she'll want me out hunting, feeding our families.
Katniss dodges another fireball and miserably, I leave the house. I know it won't help to watch Katniss the whole time, the outcome will still be the same. Even with that knowledge, I just can't take the intensity of not watching, and not knowing what's happening. But when I am watching, I'm so intent on mentally fixing Katniss's mistakes, telling her what to do even when she can't listen. Either way, I'm not going to be happy.
I finally make it to school and sit aloof through all of my classes. Of course, I attract the usual stares and pointed fingers, but the attention has died down somewhat since the games started.
"Gale." a girl from my history class approaches me. I snap out of my fantasy world and take a look at the person talking to me. I know her face but I can't remember her name.
"Hi." I say lamely. She probably thinks I know her name, but what she doesn't know is that I don't care one bit. Although, I am slightly embarrassed that she knows my name and I have no recollection of hers.
"I was just wondering…" she trails off. "If you maybe…"
Oh no, I can see where this is going. Girls have been approaching me more often ever since Katniss's absence. The people who didn't think we were related always thought we'd end up married. But now, with Katniss gone, they see her as good as dead. That's how people see any District 12 tribute. Being called out of the reaping ball is like being invited to your funeral. I think of how the girls who like me were probably happy when Katniss's name was called in the reaping. If they were, they don't deserve to even speak to me. The only thing they deserve is shame.
"Gale?" the girl asks me. "I really like you."
She really likes me? And I don't even know her name. It's weird how some people know everything about you and you don't even have a clue as to who they are.
I don't want to put any effort into my response. If she wants Katniss dead that she can go live with her despicable self.
"I'm taken." I say gruffly.
"Oh." the girl says. And I wish she would just walk away. But she doesn't. "By who?" she asks.
"It's none of your business, okay?" I snap. Only when the dejected girl walks away, and I catch the glitter of water in her eyes, do I feel slightly sorry. I must sound like a jerk. I couldn't even put any effort in being polite, could I? Well, maybe it's better this way. Then maybe the girl will forget whatever she felt about me and tell her friends, and people will think I'm mean or rude and no girl will ever approach me again. And it's fine by me. I don't want any other girl besides Katniss.
Appearing unfazed, I sit up out of my desk and meet Cormack as he walks into class.
"What's the matter with her?" he asks, jerking his head to the girl who I just spoke with. She's whispering with her friends and her eyes are red and wet. I think of how Katniss rarely ever cries. She didn't even tear up when she was called for the reaping.
"I don't know." I say automatically, not wanting to complete the story.
Cormack looks at me with an understanding sort of gaze. Do I appear calloused and aloof to him, too? He looks at me with a look of pity, like I'm someone else. He's been that way ever since Katniss was sentenced to the Hunger Games. Has this made me a completely different person?
Before I get the chance to say anything, not like I planned on saying anything at all, class starts and I gladly take my seat. I'm thankful with every bone in my body that I don't sit anywhere near to the girl who came up to me before class.
Throughout the rest of the class, I don't even attempt to gain knowledge from what the teacher tries to get across. If I can only hold on for a few more weeks, I'll never have to deal with school again. But that means I'll be sent away to the mines, but that won't be until late summer or early fall.
Finally class ends and it's time for lunch. Again, I don't pick up a lunch, and I head straight to the television. People would tell me it's unhealthy not to eat, but why should I eat? Katniss isn't eating most likely, I'd feel too guilty. And what's the use if I might just throw it all up later?
I slide in by the television. It's a few minutes before Katniss appears. She comes on the screen and the relief inside of me is immense. Like a huge anvil that's been crushing down on my chest with annihilating force was just removed. Katniss is alive.
She is soaking herself in a pool of water. I don't understand why. The television again cuts to another tribute, but soon back to Katniss. She pulls herself out of the pool and I see why she's relaxing in water. Part of her pants on her calf are either burned or ripped off. Underneath that, her calf is burned. It doesn't look third degree, but still, it seems painful. Her skin is reddened and blistered, but not charred or black, thank goodness. I'm just glad she was able to soak it.
Then I remember how Katniss hates burns. She always said they were the worst kind of pain. In District 12, being the coal mining district, there is no dither of burn injuries. I then think of how Katniss is "the girl on fire." What terrible irony this is.
Peeta Mellark's brother come over and sits a few seats down from me. He has a tray of food with him. It's easier for me not to eat since I'm used to it. I wonder if he feels guilty that he didn't volunteer for his younger brother. He should, but there's no going back now.
I turn my attention back to the television. Nobody has died in the fire so far, but someone is likely to go down now that the tributes are closer together.
Peeta Mellark's brother straightens up when the television cuts to Peeta. I should really get to know his name. I wonder if he knows mine. He probably does, since I trade with his father a lot.
The Career pack seems pretty beat up, but they're all in good enough condition to be running around and hunting for kills. It's a shame that none of them have been taken out by the fire. There I go again, wishing for the death of other kids. Well, I really wouldn't call most of the Careers children. They want to kill, they seek out other opponents to eliminate them. As seen with them and Peeta, they're backstabbing and bloodthirsty. Katniss just kills to live. She doesn't want to be here like they do. She doesn't want to win for the fame and the glory, so her name will always be remembered. She just wants to live to keep her little sister alive and fed. Is that so horrible?
Lunch ends and I reluctantly leave the lunchroom. I feel more isolated now than ever. Now that Katniss is gone, a huge part of me is torn away and I feel very alone. Also, if I haven't closed off my emotions before, I'm doing it now. I've always attempted to be unreadable and hard, since that's the way I must be to survive here. But now, I'm completely calloused and nobody will be able to penetrate my mind, no matter how hard they may try.
I sit in a stupor for the remainder of my class periods. The girl who sits next to me in my sixth period is staring at me as I look at the clock, tapping my pencil against my desk. I don't care anymore what people think of me. I have usually been a very on task student. That's another thing that's changed about me.
Finally, the school day is over, but I still am summoned to detention. The principal has no sympathy for me whatsoever. I walk down to his office, bracing myself to another hour of not knowing the state of my best friend.
The principal welcomes me into his office with the fake, warm smile that he loves to wear. This time, I return it, putting as much falseness into the smile as I can. I hope the principal is smart enough to sense it.
After sixty intolerable minutes of homework and essays, I'm set free. I set off at a dead run to the woods, ignoring my growling stomach. Katniss is eating far less than me, so it doesn't matter, I'll live. Hunger isn't my biggest worry right now. Well, my hunger isn't. It's my job to make sure my family, and Katniss's family is eating. I don't matter. I just need to stay alive so I can feed the family.
I crawl into the woods and begin to collect food. I check my snares, finding a weasel, two rabbits and a small turkey like bird. Weasel isn't the most delicious meat in the world, but it's food, and that's my only concern. Immediately, I head out to gather berries and herbs.
A bird calls from a nearby tree and I stare up into the branches. It sits on a nest, cleaning its feathers. In spring time, Katniss, with her weight and agility, can scale trees and steal eggs from bird nests. She's like a squirrel that way. I smile at the thought. A real, genuine smile. It sounds cruel, to steal baby eggs from a bird's nest, but that's the point of hunting. Killing so you can live. Just like the Hunger Games. Except, I think the Hunger Games are far worse. Real human children forced to kill each other when they don't want to, don't need to. Hunting is to feed my family, and I think it's much less gruesome than throwing children in an arena to kill each other.
The sun is starting to set and I head out of the woods and to the Hob. The black market is full of traders and shopkeepers, willing to do anything for a small amount of pay. As I'm trading some herbs with Greasy Sae, I notice a tin can on her table with a sign above it that reads: Katniss Everdeen Sponsorship Fund! Please donate!
"What's that?" I ask, indicating to the can.
Greasy Sae smiles. "We're raising money for Katniss in the arena, to ensure she comes back home alive."
A rush of warmth fills me. People here really like Katniss for various reasons. She's the sister of Prim, so some people may donate off that. Also, she and I come to the Hob so frequently, and are the only people daring enough to hunt, so many people in the district would starve without us. Also, if Katniss wins, District 12 gets food. And maybe, people just have hearts and like Katniss enough to spare a coin.
I put a small coin in the bin, and feel sad that I'm not donating more. But I'm doing Katniss a bigger favor by keeping her family alive. She'd want me to put them first.
I turn away and head home with my trades, thinking of how this could be a scam. People could be so desperate for money, that they set up a charity, but really take the profits home. I shake my head and dismiss the thought. Greasy Sae and the people at the Hob aren't impetuous scum that would do something like that. They have genuine, human hearts.
I get home and retire to a chair by the television, like a normally do. I look at my mother expectantly and she gives a smile and a nod. Katniss is alive.
I turn my focus to the games. Katniss is high in a tree, where she is relatively safe. But at the base of the tree, is the Career pack. My stomach spins. They'll wait for her. She's going to have to either take them all out, stay in the tree and die or get killed by them. She's trapped.
"Mom, how long have they been at the tree?" I ask, knowing my mother has been watching the games.
"A little while." my mother says. "They've tried everything, shooting arrows, climbing the tree, but none of it has worked."
A smirk crosses my face. The Careers can't get Katniss by coming after her. But they can wait for her to leave the tree, and if she does, she's dead for certain.
"What weapons does Katniss have?" I ask.
"Just her knife." my mother replies.
My heart sinks. She can't take out six people with just a knife. Especially not the Careers, who are all considerably larger than Katniss.
"Oh, and she has an arrow than a girl shot at her, but no bow." my mother says.
If Katniss had a bow, she could take out six people.
Then, the camera cuts to Rue, the youngest tribute, hiding high in a tree. Then, I notice that it's the tree right beside Katniss. The Careers must not have seen the small figure, and Katniss doesn't seem aware of her either. The thought that the tiny girl knows where Katniss is disturbs me. Does she have the weapons or the audacity to take out Katniss right here? I don't think she has weapons, but I'm not sure. The only comfort to me is that if she kills Katniss, the Careers will know she's there. She must be smart enough to have figured that out already.
The night approaches with no deaths so far. My mother makes me eat something at least, and the only thing that makes me force the food down my throat is her worry. I wouldn't eat if she didn't care so much. But she does care. She loves me, Rory, Vick and Posy more than anything. And she worries constantly. My eating will just add less stress to my mother's life. And so I devour a small meal unenthusiastically.
Then, the camera cuts to Katniss, who looks at Rue. Then, it shows Rue, pointing her finger above Katniss. The screen closes in on a wasp nest, dangling some fifteen feet above Katniss's head. Then I realize it's no ordinary wasp nest. It's a tracker jacker nest. Tracker jackers were produced in a lab by the Capitol, during the war between them and the districts. They were placed around the districts to wreak havoc among them. Tracker jackers are much bigger than your average wasp, and they have an undeniable gold body. Their stings are huge, the size of a tiny apple. A lot of people die after a few stings, if not right after the first. The poison in the stings causes hallucinations, and can drive people crazy. If you meddle with a tracker jacker nest or threaten or hurt them, they track you down. That's where they get the tracker part of their name. It's not a pretty picture.
The Capitol, the loving Capitol, got rid of the nests around their city after the war. But they were so kind to leave the nests around the districts alive. Probably to keep us straightened out, to remind the districts that the Capitol is much more powerful than they are.
If Katniss and I ever come across a nest in the woods, we always get as far away from it as soon as possible. Tracker jackers are deadly.
Katniss takes her knife and scuttles farther up the tree. What the hell is she doing? Then I know. She's going to cut down the nest. It's a risky maneuver, but it will definitely pay off if the nest lands on the Career pack. But if it doesn't, they'll track down Katniss and she'll be guaranteed dead. It may just be the only way out.
Then, before anything else dramatic happens, the anthem plays with no death scenes for us.
"No!" I shout, alarming my mother.
I can't wait until morning to know what happens. The pressure is sure to near kill me in the night. But I can't make the program continue, no matter what I do. I'll just have to wait.