CHAPTER 13

I wake coughing and spluttering, struggling to breath. My lungs are tight and my eyes sting like lemons. I seem to be sitting in a grey cloud: I wonder if the Game Makers are trying to gas us. I inhale a single painful breath through my nostrils (which sends me off coughing again) and I immediately feel dizzy. It's smoke – there's a fire. The Game Makers have started a fire.

I don't stop to think about anything else. Grabbing my rucksack, I leap to the next tree, coughing and inhaling more of the deadly smoke. My eyes sting and have gone cloudy and I have to feel my way through the branches. My lungs are screaming out and I can smell the fire as well s the smoke now. Sure enough, when I look behind me, I see a tree, a few metres back, burning, engulfed in eth flames that spread to the next. I force myself not to freeze there in terror and continue running through the trees, the flames just behind me. I wonder if I will really be able to outrun them if I stay up here. True, I move just as fast in trees as on the ground, plus I am unseen by other tributes, but smoke travels upwards, and it is slowing me down.

I pause to retch, which is even more painful than breathing, and in the brief moment, I feel the heat of the flames less than a metre behind me. If I did not want to save my breath for more useful and less life-threatening things, I would scream. But I don't; I continue running. Nothing is stopping the flames and I know that my only hope is to get to the lake. It's miles away, I know, but because of my metal tube I have not had to find a source of water yet and do not know of any but the lake.

I hear voices, belonging to the Careers and Peeta. They too are shouting and coughing and running to the lake. I suddenly wonder if I should take out my water skin and attempt to slow the fire with it. I stop to retrieve it but in a split second the flames catch up and I feel the tingle around my neck.

The next thing I know, I am falling through the air, crashing through the branches, engulfed in flames and screaming in agony. I land on my back on the floor and the numbness is so sudden and terrifying that for a moment I actually wonder if I am dead. A few seconds later, I roll on the floor, throw off my jacket and boots, which are still alight and run, once more. The smoke is thinner and the agony in my chest not quite so great. I wonder desperately how much longer to the lake. I think about how many miles I travelled the day before and how rapidly the fire is burning. Will I make it?

I spot a cave and a thought flashes into my mind. My feet fumble for a minute, deciding which way to go, but when I think about how hopelessly far away the lake is, I dash for the cave and dive inside.

The floor is knee deep in soil and stones. I pick out rocks and build a flimsy wall in the mouth of the cave to stop the fire. But I am quite far away now, and in a lot less trouble than I was.

I am still coughing, breathing heavily, but I am feeling better already. My skin is covered in burns and blisters but as far as I can see, no major damage has been done. Gradually, breathing becomes less of an agonising chore and in a few hours, even my chest is virtually pain-free. I have put my healing-leaves on all of my burns, having to chew them because I do not want to waste my water supply if I have to stay here for long, and most of the pain has gone. I have taken what's left of my clothes off and set them aside in the cool soil because they are frightfully painful against my blistered skin. My jacket and boots are somewhere out there, burned to crisp, and I realise how cold I am going to be tonight. My top has been ripped in many places and is black with dirt. My trousers are not much longer than knee length and are of a similar state. When I look down at my body, I see I am brown with dirt and grey with soot and smoke. I put a hand to my hair and feel it is more matted and tangled than it has ever been. If I run my finger along my cheek, it comes off with a centimetre of filth on it.

I lie down in the dirt and shiver. It is much cooler in the cave than outside, of course, but it is too cold to be comfortable. But, I remember, it is a lot warmer than the top of those trees at night. I put my clothes back on now my burns are less ferocious and, after a moment of deciding, place the socks on my hands, leaving my feet cold and bare. I bury myself under the soil and place my head on my bag as a pillow. I suspect it is around midday and I eat a few of my berries and nuts. I wish somebody would sponsor me and give me food; I am nearly running out of supplies.

That's when I realise there is no way I can stay in this cave for more than a day; I will run out of supplies very soon and will have to leave to gather more. I ma also bound to be discovered is I stay here for long and, why not admit it? I prefer being up in the treetops.

So I spend the rest of the day in the cave (very bored) with nothing to do but listen to the very occasional cannon that tells me how yet another innocent girl or boy has been murdered. I doze off a lot, and daydream about things that will happen and how I want them to happen. Eventually, my thoughts wander to how I am going to die which fills my head with a lot of unpleasant possibilities. Finally, the Anthem plays and I feel myself drift off for the night, only just remembering to congratulate myself on surviving my second day.

I wake early the next morning and decide to leave the cave for good. I eat the rest of my food, drink a good lot of water and kick down my stone 'door' to head for a tree.

I have to travel quite a long way before finding one that isn't black or dead or burned to the ground. The fire has destroyed a lot of the Arena. I wonder why the Game Makers planned a fire out of all things. Well, I think, it's a good way of bringing the tributes together and possibly killing a few too. I think of the cannons I heard and, once again, loath the Capitol.

I gather more medicine-leaves, more berries, and refill my water skin, before settling down in a tree and closing my eyes, amazed, despite my Plan, that I have made it this far: nearly three days. Hardly an achievement for some of the stronger tributes, like Cato and Thresh, but for someone like me…

I rub my cold feet and my thoughts steer to Thresh and Reed again. The first feeling I feel for Reed is hatred – that I have got nothing so far whilst Thresh is probably buried in sponsor gifts. Then I start to wonder what happened before I went to the Arena. My memory is fuzzy but I can still see him trying desperately to tell me something, biting his lip in anguish. Had silencing him with a look. Reed shouting something up at me as Had and Fesh lead him away, fighting him, screaming at him. I wonder what has happened to him. Maybe he's an Avox now. Maybe it was all an act and he's fine. Maybe it was to worry thresh and me? No, I can't imagine that being the case. More likely he's being hung or tortured for whatever he tried to do. I find myself missing him.

But if Reed is gone, then who's controlling the sponsors? The answers obvious: Had. No wonder I've got nothing, I think bitterly.

I open my eyes and sigh. I look around at the coal black trees, the destruction done by the fire. I remember how desperate I was the day before. I remember all the pain I felt, how I struggled to breath, choked and coughed on the smoke. How dreadful the whole experience was and how lucky I am to be alive. Then I remember the night before, how desperate I was for a fire…

Then it all flashes back and the horrible truth hits me: it was me. I remember my hand shaking, the match falling down, the leaves burning, the Careers marching away…me drifting off, warmer than I thought I could be…

I started the fire. It was me. I gave the audience the show.

And whoever was killed in it…

They were my kill.