It's the fifth night of the Games now, three nights from Q's death. We haven't seen the slightest hint of another tribute, not even footprints, since then. No canons, either. Probably some good fights and injuries, or the Gamemakers would have done something to us by now. While I cook a small rabbit over our fire, I say to Mayla, "Some Games, huh? Down to nine in two days, then nothing else since. Something is going to have to happen soon."
She nods, silent, as she gnaws on a fingernail – exactly the way her sister always does. It's quiet for another ten minutes or so – we're well into the rabbit – before I have to ask.
"Mayla, who's going home?" My voice is quiet. I'm afraid to know what her plan is. I'm not even sure what mine is.
"Whoever survives longer," she responds matter-of-factly. But when I look up, I can tell she knows what I mean. And I guess she just doesn't know either. Although what she says is exactly right. One of us will outlive the other. Hopefully one of us will go home. Hayley is already in enough pain. Maybe one of us can make it back to her, at least.
My shoulder is still hurt from falling out of that tree, and I think it's fractured. Unfortunately, I'm right handed, so I can't fight. But the cut on my back has healed up fairly well, so I can move, at least.
It's quiet for a while more before the sound of a breaking branch catches my ear. I look up as discreetly as I can and see a pair of glowing eyes staring at me. "Mayla," I whisper, looking back down at the dying embers of our fire. I keep the eyes in my sight. "Don't look now. Behind you there's someone, or something. I'll take care of it if they charge. You just… stay safe. One of us needs to get home for Hayley."
Once more, Mayla nods, and I grab my spear. Raising my voice, I say "Get some sleep, I'm gonna keep guard." I move over to the other side of the clearing, opposite the eyes, and sit down, my spear across my lap in a very relaxed position, as if I don't expect to ever get attacked.
A few minutes later, my eyelids dropping as if in exhaustion, I see movement. The eyes. They're getting closer. My hand clenches involuntarily over my spear. Quickly I let go, hoping that I didn't give away my knowledge of the attack. It doesn't seem I did, though, because they don't pause. In fact, the tribute – I can see them now, and it is in fact a human – runs right at me, not screaming, but hoping that I really am asleep on guard.
No such luck. I scramble to my feet and lunge at the attacker – realizing as I do that the boy is Dom. My arm is stiff, so I can't get the point of the spear up as high as I want to. No matter. But as the spear pierces his thigh, the bigger problem hits me like a punch in the gut. "Mayla!" I yell. Because there have been no canons. That means that Xander is alive. And if I'm right, he's here, with Dom.
"Straph?" I hear her ask, confused. She appears, poking her head out from her sleeping bag. Dom fell over when I stabbed him, and he is starting to get to his feet. But before any of the three of us can move, Xander appears behind Mayla. "Noooo!" I scream, but I can't do anything as the knife moves swiftly across Mayla's neck.
She slumps as a canon sounds, and Xander crosses to my side to pick up Dom. He looks down at me, sneering. "She's no use to you now. Better find a new girlfriend." The remark stings.
"She's not my girl," I spit out through gritted teeth. My shoulder is screaming in pain from the lunge at Dom, but the adrenaline rush is wearing off and I'm only just starting to feel it. I know I shouldn't say it, but I finish the thought. "Her sister is."
I see the surprise flicker across each boy's face. But then Xander's face breaks into a grin. She may not have been my girl, but they can tell looking at me that they still completed their task. I have been broken beyond repair, and they know it. After all, how can I go back to Hayley, when I as good as killed her beloved sister?
"Good luck," I mutter as they walk away. Dom turns and nods his thanks, still clutching his thigh. We were friends, for whatever short time. I'd rather one of them wins than the other monsters in these woods.
No, not monsters. Kids. They're just kids. Like me. Kids the Capitol is turning against each other. Forcing them to kill each other in cold blood just to survive.
I would be what they called a 'Career Tribute' if I have sided with District One and Two. I'd have a better chance of surviving. I would have been training my whole life. Only I refused to train, refused to side with them, refused to be excited to go kill people. I didn't volunteer. I was picked. And no one volunteered for me. Or for Mayla.
The hovercraft takes Mayla's body, including the sleeping bag I left her in and the pack she had stuffed inside it. The last thing I see is the red cut across her neck. But then it's not Mayla's neck, but Hayley's. With that image in front of me, I black out.