Chapter 8: Watching

Ash – (Still) The Arena

I search for about ten minutes, having to retrace my steps and find the trail that Jo has left. It isn't easy as it is starting to get darker.

When I finally find her, I follow behind for about a hundred years, debating how I should approach her when she says, "You know, you're going to have to learn how to walk quieter or you're going to get us both killed."

I immediately stop. She stops too and turns around to face me and continues, "So I was thinking of camping in a tree where we can look out and be relatively safe from whatever might be on the ground. I didn't see anywhere on the ground that would make a good camp."

I nod, unable to speak as I realize she isn't going to question me about my sister's death or dwell on it. I don't know if that makes happy or sad.

We walk for another five minutes before I see a perfect tree. She walked right by it, but I leap up to the shortest branch and pull myself up. "This is a good one," I say as she stops in her tracks.

Josie – In a Tree in the Arena

"I can't climb trees," the words are out of my mouth before I can think about them. My face gets really red, I hope that it's too dark for Ash to tell.

Ash pokes his head down and stares, "You can't climb trees?" he says in disbelief.

He immediately jumps down and starts giving me instructions. "Jump up," he says with his hands up, "Grab onto the lowest branch and -"
"I can climb trees!" I snap at him. "Just…just not these trees."

Ash stares, even more confused than before.

"A tree is a tree. What…how can it be different?"

"My trees don't have branches." I realize how stupid that sounds when we're surrounded by all these other trees – with branches.

"What?!"

"Palm trees."

"What the hell is a palm tree?"

"A tree without branches," I say, exasperated. We're really not getting anywhere. Literally, I'm still on the ground.

"How…how do you climb a tree without branches?" Ash demands.

"You know," I say, making a circle with my arms, "you just kind of hug the trunk and shimmy up."

He blinks, "Shimmy?"

"What the hell! Just get back up there and pull me up before something eats us!"

"Pulling up isn't as easy as pushing you," he says.

"What?" I demand.

He sighs. Ash points to the lowest branch and says, demands really, "Just grab onto that with your hands."

I glare – he sounds remarkably like Finnick – and do what he says.

To my surprise, he grabs my hips and pushes me over the branch so now I'm on my stomach hugging the skinny branch that seems way too weak to hold my weight.

"Ash," I say, trying to sound calm and not move, "This won't break, right?"

I look down, don't see him, and nearly fall out of the tree when he speaks from my elbow. "Don't worry, this is much sturdier than the tree I was in earlier."

I nod, taking a deep breath and cautiously let go with one hand. I'm too short to reach the next branch. I look at Ash. He's watching me with a strange expression.

"Can you please help me to my feet?" I say, trying not to sound pitiful.

He grabs my hand, and helps me up, instructing me, "Put one hand on the tree trunk." I do. And once I'm on my feet, I easily climb the tree using the branches like a ladder. No different than rock-climbing. That I can do.

Once we're both satisfied with the height from the ground, we settle down. Ash winces.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

"I'm fine," he replies.

"Your foot and your hand are covered in blood," I point out.

"It's my ankle," he says, "And my hand."

I roll my eyes. Boys. "Check your backpack," I suggest, "Sometimes they have meds and bandages and stuff like that. Finnick did his year."

Ash does what I suggested and finds nothing edible, but plenty of cloth, some antibacterial-medicinal-spray-thing and some fancy looking pliers that seem absolutely worthless to me. Ash uses the spray and winces, and begins to wrap his foot first.

We're quiet for a bit and then Ash asks, "So, how many years older than you is Finnick?"

I'm surprised, but answer anyway. "Five. Finnick's twenty and I'm almost sixteen."

He quietly whispers, "Coley turned sixteen last month."

"I'm…" wait a minute. "She was sixteen!" I exclaim without thinking.

Ash looks at me blankly.

"I mean," I back track quickly. Last thing I want is to die by getting pushed from a tree. "She was so small…I thought she was thirteen."

"Yeah," he says, "She had a condition where she could never have much weight. It's common when they're born with a twin."

I feel awful. "She has a twin?"

"She did. She was born dead."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation.

"How old are you?" I ask after a silent second.

"Eighteen," Ash says. He adds in as an afterthought, "My birthday is next month."

"You were almost out of the reaping this year," I whisper.

"Almost."

"Hey," he asks after another second, he seems as if he's trying to think about something other than his sister, "How did you learn to tackle like that?"

I crack a smile. "Finnick."

He stares, waiting for me to elaborate.

My smile fades. It can't hurt to explain.

"After he came back from the Games," I begin, "Fin wanted me to learn self-defense. So he taught me a few things."

"Was he worried that you'd get reaped?"

"Always," I say. "But this year…" I stop.

Ash looks at me with those dark eyes, once again waiting for me to finish.

"This year wishing wasn't enough," I finish a bit lamely. Ash nods.

"Also," I find myself saying, "I'm the one who would hold him down."

I can't believe I just said that.

"What?" Ash asks.

I shake my head, but whisper, "The winner always has nightmares."

"What about your parents?" Ash asks.

I look at him, "Didn't you watch the Games the year Finnick won?"

"Yeah, but I have five…four little siblings so if it was just family filler stuff…"

"They died during his games." My voice is hard. I can't help it.

Ash looks sorry for bringing it up.

I sigh, and explain what I have heard Cesar Flickerman dramatize a thousand times before; "We can't just stop fishing during the Games – fish have seasons and migration patterns. So during the Games, we take whatever time we can to do our job. We have a quota to fill or…it just isn't good to not fill the quota."

Ash nods; "We have something similar down in the mines."

I continue. "Mom and Dad had spent so much time keeping tabs on Finnick that we were dangerously close on missing the season. One night, when we knew Finnick wouldn't be doing much, they went out by themselves in our boat. A storm blew up and…and…they found the bodies the next day…"

My voice breaks and I stop for a second. It still hurts, after all this time. I nearly lost everything that year. My brother, my parents, even our boat which was a better home than what we had on land.

"I'm sorry," Ash says quietly.

I look at him, "I just thank God that I have my brother."

Ash open his mouth to speak, but then the whistling starts.

Finnick – The Game-Room

"It seems like my boy is keeping his word," Haymitch mutters to me. I nod, mutely staring at the screen that shows Josie and Ash sitting in a tree talking about – of all things – our parents. Coming home that year was harder than the Games; the only thing left was Josie, they'd taken our house to pay for expenses or something. Poor Josie had been nine.
Haymitch has come over to watch Josie's TV with me. Ash is with her, so the District 12 male TV shows the same image from a different angle. Collette's screen is blank.
Between Josie and Ash, two careers died in the beginning. It's an unheard of phenomena.
The career pack is now made from the boy from One, the girl from Two, both from Seven, and the boy from Ten.
The sound of a shrill whistle cuts off Josie's words and makes me focus my attention on Seaweed's screen.
"What the hell are you doing?" Hisses his companion. Spark, the young boy from Three, has somehow become allies with Seaweed to the amazement of Beetee and me.
Seaweed ignores him and whistles nine times: short, short, short, long, long, long, short, short, short. SOS in Morse code - the only people who still use it are the sailors in Four.
"Shut up!" Spark hisses, grabbing Seaweed's arm and shaking it roughly. "You want to get us killed?!"
"Listen, Sparky," Seaweed snaps at him. "I saved your sorry ass because I saw your little trick with the lights during training. But if you're going to question everything I do, I'll just stab you now and get it over with. I told you - I'm looking for the girl from my district."
Spark begins to argue but Josie's voice from the other TV catches my attention.

"...a symbol from my district," Josie has finished telling Ash.
"So it's the boy from Four?" Ash asks.
"Maybe," Josie looks around. "But I don't know where it came from."
"Don't whistle back," Ash warns. "Two careers are still out there."
"I'm not that stupid," she says.

"Your other ally is," Ash mutters. She doesn't argue.

The whistle comes again, persistent: SOS.
"Out of all the things to choose," Josie mutters.
Ash orients himself and points in the direction of the noise, "That way."
"Agreed," Josie says. They hop out of the tree – Ash helps Josie – and Ash leads the way.
"My kids heard them," Johanna announces from my left. I turn to see her examining her screen, her headphones in hand. Her two are arguing with one of the other careers. My stomach flips. Josie and her allies are setting their own trap.
The whistle is repeated and I suddenly hear; "Seaweed?"
"Jo!" Seaweed looks relieved to see her, Spark looks upset. "What took you so long?"
"Ran into an ally," she replies. "Ash, Seaweed. Seaweed, Ash."
The two boys size each other up and Ash frowns at Spark. "Who are you?"
"Spark Hollorain from District Three," Spark snaps. He looks at Seaweed, "I don't recall anything about Twelve."
"I don't recall anything about you," Josie tells him.
"You get someone, I get someone too," Seaweed snaps at her.
"Not really," she counters, eyes flashing. "I told you about Ash and...before training..."
"But you decided without me," Seaweed says darkly.
"Get over yourself," Josie mutters.
"What?"
"Will Spark be helpful?"
"That's not what you said."
"I'm right here!"
"And he will be," Seaweed says, "You know the day the lights flickered..."
"I'm not your slave!" Spark snaps at him.
"Shut up, Sparky."

Spark's eyes flash angrily, and I wince. This meeting is not going well. And the careers will find them soon if they don't move...
"Fine then," Spark says coolly. "I'll just get my bag and go." He reaches for the backpack on Seaweed's back and Seaweed moves away.
"I saved your life, remember?" Seaweed hisses. "You owe me. If you want to leave, fine. But I'm keeping the backpack."
"I'll starve!"
"Not my problem."

Spark's hands have been fiddling with something the entire time - twisting wire around and around something.
As Seaweed continues, "You'd probably turn out to be a waste of time anyway..."
Spark jabs whatever it is at Seaweed. Seaweed shouts in pain and surprise as he goes flying backwards. Josie and Ash are on Spark like a pair of wolves an instant later. Josie has the boy pinned to the ground, one knee on his chest, a knife at his throat and Ash wrestles the mess of wires out of his hand.
She's going for the kill. My sweet baby sister already has the hard eyes of a killer. I want to cry.
This isn't fair.

"No, please," Spark begs. "Please! I can be useful! Imagine what I could do with a bigger power source! Please, please, I don't want to die..." His voice ends in a whimper and Josie stares at him.
"Go ahead and kill the damn brat," Seaweed snaps, nursing his burnt hand.
Ash is examining the gadget, "If he's dead this is useless," he adds. "Although it's useless to everyone else too."
Josie is silent.
"Please," Spark whispers.
I hold my breath. If she kills him, she'll be one step closer to winning. But if she kills him...like this, in cold-blood, I've lost my Josie forever. She'll still be my little sister, but she won't be the same...

Josie pulls the knife away and I hear sighs of disappointment from some of the other mentors. But I, selfishly, am relieved.
God, Finnick, what is wrong with you? Don't you want her to win? No one decent wins the games - if she wins, she'll have to be hard...like you. You; who have already planned to sleep with three different woman tonight in order to get her sponsors and keep Annie safe. How far am I willing to go? I wonder. I feel disgusted with myself as the answer comes to mind: anything.
I hate this place. I hate what it makes me.

On TV, Josie is standing. Glaring at Spark, she says, "You're with us until you pull your little trick and then you leave. Got it? If it's successful there will be less people out there. You keep the backpack-"
Seaweed and Ash makes sounds of protests but Josie ignores them and finishes, "But we keep your gadget. Deal?"
Seaweed looks impressed.
"I'll die without it," Spark whispers.
"We're not setting ourselves up to get electrocuted," Ash snaps at him.
"And if you don't agree, I'll kill you now," Seaweed adds.

Spark doesn't have a choice. He nods. "Okay."
The boy stands and brushes himself off and I hear Beetee sigh in relief behind me.
"Your two play a hard bargain," he tells me quietly. "But Spark did burn Seaweed when he should have been trying to get on his good side."
"I'm sorry," I say softly, so only he can hear.
"Ah, well," Beetee says. He takes off his glasses and polishes them. "Your sister will be a better victor." I nod mutely as Beetee walks away.
I hear Ash say, "We should get a move on" and then the image on Johanna's screen shows her girl advancing on my sister.
The careers have found them.