Author's Note: And the story continues! I hope you are all enjoying the progression; I realize it hasn't been all too riveting as of late, but it's about to really pick up—trust me. I think there are about five more chapters, so clearly a lot still has to happen. I'd love to hear what y'all think; be sure to give me some feedback!
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Despite our joy at having formed an alliance based on mutual trust rather than selfish interests, the event doesn't really spur on any ambitious goals. Thresh has dug a hole and piled broken stalks of wheat around it for his shelter, which is the best one can do in this field. He shows me the heads of wheat that, now that I know their appearance, seem to be on every side. Thresh has not been going hungry.
I did not arrive with much time left in the day, so the sun sets before my ally and I have discussed much. I promise to tell him the full story of what has been going on in the Games from my point of view tomorrow, and he seems genuinely interested. I tear down some stalks and make a nest-like bed a few feet away from Thresh's den. He offers to let me take the hole, but I decline, saying that my blanket will make me plenty cozy.
As a matter of fact, it is very hard for me to sleep on the ground. It's not that I am uncomfortable; it's that I feel incredibly vulnerable. In a tree or in a house, I never have much to worry about because I am out of view. But here, I have no visibility beyond a few yards, and yet I am thrust out for the whole sky to watch. I toss and turn for more than an hour after the anthem plays before finally falling asleep.
The following morning I make good my word and tell Thresh all that's happened to me so far. I talk about the fire, my alliance with Katniss, and our success of blowing up the Careers' supplies. This fact especially seems to please Thresh, and he grins when he hears that there was nothing left.
"Let them work on something other than killing for a change," he says with a huff.
Since the meat I have will go bad soon, we eat it around noon, and I know my ally is glad of a change. After we've eaten, he relates the very uneventful time he's had since coming to the field. Besides eating and sleeping, nothing has really happened. But I suppose that in the Huger Games, uneventful is a blessing.
"What do you think Cato and Clove will do now?" I ask when we've finished our stories. "Will they come here to kill us?"
"I doubt it," Thresh replies. "They are afraid to come in here, and if there are other tributes to focus on first, that's who they'll go after."
"I wonder how well that will work out for them," I murmur. "Katniss has a bow; they can't both make it out of an attack on the group from 12. And I don't think I've even seen the girl from 5 since the Games started. If she manages to stay hidden, the Careers might be forced to take us on."
Thresh nods slowly. "Maybe, but I'd say we've got several days before that happens, if the Gamemakers will leave us alone, that is. That's the only thing I'm worried about right now, since either a flood or a fire would flush us out of here."
"Speaking of floods, where have you been getting water?" I inquire.
"There are some little streams that irrigate the grain," Thresh explains, "but they are hardly more than long puddles. We really need a way to filter the water so that we don't take in as much dirt as water when we drink. And digging doesn't make the water any deeper; I tried. If it did, then I could use some fabric at a bottle's neck to keep the dirt more or less out. But unfortunately, the stream isn't exactly natural."
I know that this must be a result of the Gamemakers' desire to force Thresh and I to leave the field occasionally for clean water. But the Gamemakers don't know what it's like to live in one of the poorest districts in Panem. Clean water isn't common at home, so water with a lot of dirt here is annoying, but not bad enough as to make us leave our safety.
It seems wrong to simply sit around without doing anything, so Thresh and I are forced to keep ourselves busy, even though our labor is expended on unnecessary tasks. I guess that technically we are benefitting our status by digging another den-like bed, harvesting an extra supply of wheat, and trying to make a system that would filter the mud, but really those things don't matter much. I am glad to get to know Thresh, though. He is kind underneath all that brute strength, and his laugh never fails to make me laugh too.
I have eaten so much wheat today that I am not hungry when we lay down to sleep, each in our own hole. Mine is only about a foot deep, but somehow it does make me feel more secure. Besides, with all the grass piled around me, I bet it will insulate me better. The anthem plays and no faces appear. My stomach twists when I wonder how the Gamemakers will find a way to start making things more interesting.
The following day is much like the first. No signs of the Careers ever appear, and Thresh and I spend the long hours eating grain and trying to filter mud. But we are soon confronted by a problem: the water has been contaminated. I don't know how severely, but we can both tell by the taste that something is very off. For the time being, we just don't drink, but I know that eventually this will drive us out of the field.
I suppose this is the Gamemakers' way of bringing about a new round of violence, but when the voice of Claudius Templesmith's disturbs the silence in the late afternoon, I see that our water shortage is part of a bigger plan.
"Attention tributes: you have all been invited to a feast. Now hold on. Some of you may be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you need something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia, at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."
I look slowly at Thresh, who for a moment does not speak. I know what the feast must have for us, and it makes me thirsty just thinking about it. A water filter. But if we want to go for it, we've got to be ready to pay a steep cost.
"I'd rather go out of the field once than over and over," Thresh says at last. "But I won't go if you don't think we should."
I am taken aback by the trust he has just put in me. He's letting me decide on such an important decision, almost as if I knew better, which I don't. But I agree with his logic, even if this is a prompt from the Gamemakers, who only want our blood. They may be pulling the strings, but they don't have control of all the variables.
"Let's do it," I consent at last. "If the Gamemakers want us at the feast, they will get us there somehow. So we might as well decide to go while we don't have an extremely severe need."
Thresh nods his head. "Then we better get some sleep; we've got to leave here a couple hours before dawn."
We both get into our dens and try to sleep, but I don't succeed for a while. The feast presents so many dangers, and in the end, the Gamemakers could just be tricking us. If there's anything in the world that can drive me crazy, it's uncertainty, and this situation seems to be saturated in it. After tossing and turning until about midnight, I at last fall into an uneasy sleep.
When Thresh and I awake, we gather our weapons and begin moving towards the Cornucopia. As I grip my spear, I am struck by the realization that I won't be using it, and that might make Thresh vulnerable. But I shake this idea away, hoping that we can get what we need and get away without much confrontation. Yeah right.
We discuss a strategy while we walk, but we both know that it'll be hard to predict what will happen before it's actually occurring. So in the end, we just decide not to go in for the bags first and to stay close together. All the rest we will have to figure out as we go.
Finally we arrive at the Cornucopia. There aren't any other visible tributes, but we know they've got to be somewhere. The waiting for the sun to rise is very tense, and although we don't see any movement, we can feel the others in the vicinity. Finally, our backpacks appear next to the Cornucopia, and the feast is on.
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