Author's Note: Sorry it's been a couple of days since the last update, this chapter has been quite hard to write. I needed to get into Cato's character but it's difficult to get into the head of someone who likes to kill and to figure out the reasons behind it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it; these games are going to be very action-packed, as you'll see in the next chapter. Remember, please review and tell me what you think! (P.S. Thanks so much to PeppermintAmortentia who reminded me that Cato has to be cocky, it seems obvious but I needed to think over his whole personality again!)
I'm interested in using Clove or Marvel's POV soon, so tell me what you think about that idea as well.
Also, I thought I'd let you all know that from now on updates are going to come less frequently, as school is starting up for the new term. I'll probably only be able to post new chapters on the weekends, but as always more reviews mean quicker updates.
Chapter Eight - Countdown
Grey's POV
I suppose for a while you can just ignore it. Wake up and pretend you were born in the Capitol instead, that everyone's pouring over you because they want to. If you close your eyes and take in all the senses sometimes it even feels like a party. I know the other careers see me standing alone in the middle of the room with my eyes closed and wonder, but it's my way of trying to forget. I've heard that victors sometimes go mad after the games; haunted by the screams of the people they killed. Marvel told me about a girl from District 4 once, pushed over the edge after seeing her district partner decapitated in front of her. I wanted to see my partner, Spens, beheaded in front of me, but the thought of the psychologically damaged victor made me anxious and so Marvel never mentioned it again. I think it bothered me because I could see myself like that. I already had moments of panic that I remedied by closing my eyes, and I hadn't even killed anyone yet.
As much as you pretend, you can't be blind to reality forever. For me, the end was standing on the pedestal in the arena, knowing that five minutes from now I could be dead. Cato stood on my right, only a couple of meters away, and he caught my eye and gave me a look. It was the expression that you would see on a child's face right before they got on the biggest ride at a theme park, barely contained excitement mixed with the jumpy feeling caused by a bit of anxiety. Cato gave me the thumbs up, but it just seemed really inappropriate for the situation we were in. We had spent the night wrapped in each other's arms but upon waking in the morning he had already left. Every time I thought that maybe I'd broken through to his gentle side, he would flee or let out some thoughtless remark.
I calm myself a little by breathing deeply as someone safely locked in the control room far away from the arena counts our last minute down. 60, 59, 58… I look around me at our surroundings. Behind me is a slope down to a large wheat field which I reckon I'll avoid, the wheat is tall and even from where I am I can see it rustling with movement. There's a lake to my left, which, if the careers rule the bloodbath, should hopefully become ours. I see Cato eying it and I know he's thinking the same. We have no idea if there's any other water in the arena, so we should make the most of it. The rest of the arena in sight is forest, and I figure most of the tributes that survive the bloodbath are going to head into it; it's covered and will offer temporary protection.
30, 29, 28… Not long to go now. I try to peer into the cornucopia standing strong in the center, but I'm facing it's back so I can't see the entrance from where I'm standing. I try and look for any weapons that I can grab and I lock onto a sheath of knives. I hope that it's not the only one because I don't want Clove, standing on the opposite side, to kill me under pressure for the possession of it.
Cato's POV
15, 14, 13… I'm ready. As soon as I could see the arena from my podium I was looking around, memorising everything around us in case it was needed later. And watching reruns of the previous Hunger Games, I knew that everything you learned could be beneficial to you. Turning to Grey, I saw her doing the same. Even if she was afraid, I knew she'd be able to hold her ground. I hadn't discussed any plan with the career alliance thus far; it was too hard to predict what you would face in the arena until you got there. For all we knew, the arena could have been plunged in pitch-black darkness, or so small that every tribute had to fight to the death in the bloodbath. I was so eager to get going, I could barely keep still on my podium. My eyes flicked around to each of the tributes in my alliance. Grey beside me couldn't hide her nervousness. Marvel was beyond her and had his arms crossed with a stony expression. The tributes next to him looked petrified and I knew he'd get them as soon as he nabbed a weapon. Clove was across from me on the other side of the cornucopia, clenching and unclenching her fists. She met my gaze and we both smirked at each other. Glimmer stood relaxed near my tribute partner, smiling knowingly.
9, 8, 7… No one is verbally counting down anymore, above the cornucopia the numbers silently decrease as the stakes get higher. I scan over the cornucopia and try to locate the best weapon. I curse that I'm facing the back of it, because obviously the finest weapons are going to be in the mouth of the structure. I notice a sword plunged in the ground beside the entrance and I decide to go for that. It will be sufficient at least for the bloodbath, and then I can pick something better if I need to.
3, 2, 1…
There's a long pause, too long, and for a second I feel like there's been a mistake. That someone's going to jump out and say it's all a ruse. 'Attention tributes, you've been punk'd!' Instead, a loud gong goes off and I'm running like I've been trained to do for the past ten years.
I feel other tributes sprinting around me as I jump over backpacks and other worthless objects. I know if we play these first few minutes right, we can have all this bounty for ourselves. Right now my sole focus is the blade. I reach the cornucopia before anyone else does and I pull the sword out of the soft ground, swinging it in a circular motion to stop any enemy who might have been on my tail. I make contact with the chest of a young boy; he had been on the pedestal beside me. There's a look of shock in his eyes before he goes down, but I'm already running to someone else by the time the cannon goes off.
I kill another two tributes, two girls that I never bothered to learn the names of. The first pleads for me to spare her life, but the second only tells me to make it quick. I smirk at them as adrenaline rushes through my blood and their two cannons go off. I hear someone running and I spin round and throw, nabbing a tribute that had been trying to escape with a backpack.
Retrieving the sword and finding no more tributes around me, I have time to survey the massacre. Marvel has managed to get his hands on a hatchet and I can see a few bodies scattered around him. Even from far away I can see the glassy look that he gets when he fights, he sees his victims purely as inanimate targets so he doesn't have to deal with his conscience. I don't need such petty actions; I have no conscience when it comes to fighting, but if that's what allows him to kill then I'm not going to bring it up. I can't see Glimmer from where I'm standing but Clove is nearby pulling one of her knives out of a tribute's head. She laughs at me when she sees me staring.
Suddenly I think of Grey, and my head whips around trying to find her. For a second I can't see her and I'm worried that she's one of the bodies littered around us, who was it I hit in the back again? But then I notice a flash of blonde hair and see her standing on the top of the cornucopia as she throws a knife at the last tribute left in the clearing. I feel proud knowing that this must have been her first kill, but then I see her fall onto her knees and cradle her head in her hands. I jog over to her, checking that no tribute is hiding anywhere, and help her off the roof of the building.
"Well done on the kill." I smirk, but there's a deep sense of pride running through it. Grey shocks me by giving me an appalled expression.
"I killed him." Grey says with a voice that almost doesn't believe it, "The look on his face when he saw my knife. He wanted me to spare his life but I didn't. Oh god Cato, I killed him!" And then she threw up on the ground beside my feet.
Grey's POV
I retch at Cato's feet and I can tell he's not quite sure what to do. Why doesn't he understand? The look in that tribute's eyes will haunt me forever. The fact that there's at least another 4 bodies littered around us covered in blood, doesn't help my stomach. I hear someone come up to us and I look up to see Marvel. His face is splattered with blood and I groan and hide my face in my hands.
"What's the matter Grey?" He asks, and I peek my head up, trying to not look at the red stains on his face.
"I've never killed someone before, Marvel. I can't help feeling I'm flawed now, stained." Marvel looks like he's going to give some sympathetic comment, but Cato interrupts him.
"It doesn't matter, Grey, he was an enemy."
I know he's probably trying to be nice and attempting to make me feel better about killing somebody, but that comment rubs me the wrong way. I'm up in an instant, my queasiness instantly forgotten. My face contorts into a sneer as I stare Cato down. He knows he's said something wrong, but he's got one eyebrow raised as if he's not quite sure what's upset me yet.
"Is that how you justify all your kills Cato? A monotone, "he was an enemy"?" I spit at him, my hands balling into fists. Marvel is standing dead still next to Cato, trying to sink into the ground and not be noticed. I feel a couple of people come up behind me, and seeing as Cato's gaze never falters from my face, it must be Clove and Glimmer. Great, everyone's going to see me blow up now, including all the citizens of the Capitol. There would have to be an enormous battle for the cameras not to be trained on us right now. Careers never argue this early, and especially not with Cato leading them.
"Why are you getting so defensive? It doesn't matter now." Cato's voice has lost any sarcasm, it's hard and rough and he grabs my wrists as I attempt to push him away. I look in his eyes and they seem to be repeating what he said: it doesn't matter now.
"You don't understand, you're just a heartless bastard." I hiss at him, yanking my wrists out of his grasp. Cato growls and let's me go, seething. He doesn't bother replying and feeling unwanted after my comment, I decide to leave. I turn and start running; taking the time to grab a backpack from the stash Clove had collected. I hear the others calling me back, but I don't hear Cato so I run into the forest until I can't hear them anymore.
Cato's POV
"Cato!" Clove screeches at me, "What did you do that for? There was no reason for her to leave; now we only have an alliance of four! You're letting your emotions take over!" I slap her on the face and she shuts up fast.
"She'll be back." I hiss, " She'll spend a few hours on her own, trying to prove to us that she's all strong and can survive on her own. But she'll get lonely or hungry or something stupid and return."
Grey's comment had enraged me because it wasn't just me that she was offending; she was offending my entire district. I had been raised for the games in this way, to kill without a conscience, so anything she said about me reflected on District 2. She had no idea what I had gone through, and she had no right to say that her way of life was better than mine.
"Stop being nasty, Cato." Marvel pipes up, and I whip my head round to stare him down.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry… Let's go hunt for some tributes, okay? I'm sure it will do us the world of good to concentrate on something." He suggests, and after a moment I agree. We've been brought together to kill, so I guess it makes sense to start getting it done.
We decide to leave our supplies collected in the mouth of the cornucopia. For the moment all the other tributes will be hiding or trying to find water in preparation for a long night. They wont be prepared and some unlucky tribute will realise this when we corner them. Each of us takes a couple of weapons and a backpack in case we're held up for whatever reason. I have my sword locked on my back so I can easily access it and a dagger attached around my waist. The extra weight feels comfortable, like I'm in the training center again. The others around me visibly relax and I know they feel the same way. The bloodbath is about brute strength, skill, or having the ability to run very fast but there's no real tactics for it. However once you get through that it becomes more like a game of cops and robbers. The careers are the cops.