Chapter Four
I barely get to say goodbye to Mags and Felix before I'm rushed out to the hovercraft with half of the other tributes and our stylists. Finnick didn't even show up this morning, and for some reason I'm disappointed I didn't get to say goodbye to him. As much as I had resolved not to trust him, I have to admit that his presence was just as comforting to me as Mags'. He was able to bring levity to any situation, something that is hard to come by in my situation.
Albina pops some kind of pill in her mouth as soon as we're seated in the cold black seats that line the walls of the hovercraft. "I hate flying," she says simply to me, and closes her eyes.
A Capitol attendant approaches me with a large needle, and grabs my arm. "Your tracker, Miss Cresta," she says, and promptly jabs the needle into my forearm, pulling a trigger. I see movement and a red light shines briefly through my skin before she removes the needle. Now the Game Makers will always be able to know where I am and will track my vitals. This will be the device that indicates to them that I've died.
I shake my head, trying to get those thoughts out. If I want to stand a chance in the arena, I can't have given up already. And as little hope as I have, I still have hope, and the truth is that I don't want to die. I'm not ready, and I'm not going to give up.
I feel like I'm a puddle of anxiety sitting in the chamber beneath the arena. Albina sits beside me, but after she helped me get dressed—into some thick but flexible pants, a stretchy t-shirt, a warm jacket that appears to be waterproof, and some flexible shoes with deep treads—she's been a bit out of it. I think that pill she took did more than curb her nausea. I try to drink as much water as I can, as per Mags's advice, but my hand trembles as I hold the cup to my lips and I spill half of it on myself. Luckily the jacket wicks the water away so the cameras won't know.
I can't help but wonder what the arena will be like this year. I can only hope there's enough shelter that we won't be exposed to each other and to the elements the whole time. There was a Games like that a few years back, and it was over in a matter of days. I try not to picture the faces of the tributes I'll soon face, wondering who will survive the next day, the next hour.
The signal is given that it's time for me to step into my launch tube, and Albina startles and jerks out of her chair, smoothing her blouse down to make it look like she did that on purpose. She turns to me, her fake gold-colored freckles sparkling in the artificial light. "Good luck, Annie. It's been a pleasure to work with you, and I hope to see you again soon." She gives my arm a tight squeeze, and then nudges me in the direction of the launch tube.
As I step inside, I can feel my heart pounding so hard it's as if it's trying to beat itself out of my chest, to escape and get as far away from this situation as it can. But it's just as trapped as I am. The plate beneath my feet begins to push me upward, and suddenly I'm blinded by bright light. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust and take in my surroundings. I'm standing about twenty feet away from each tribute on my side, the 24 of us forming a very large circle in what appears to be a dry basin, the Cornucopia in the center, with various items scattered around it. There's a tall concrete wall that reaches so high I'd have to look straight up at the sky to see the top. Aside from that, it's hard to see what surrounds the basin as it's so deep.
The countdown begins and I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. My eyes are closed when my mind fills in the picture of what it is we're standing in. This must have been an old lake, and that wall a great dam that they've used to stop the water. I open my eyes and frantically search for signs of water, hoping that dam isn't the only source we'll have but it's no use. I won't be able to see anything until I climb out of this basin.
A loud voice booms, "Ladies and gentleman, let the seventieth Hunger Games begin!"
The siren sounds and I feel my body propelling itself forward. I find that I'm a faster runner than I had thought when I reach a small pouch and a dagger before my fellow tributes do. But I'm not up for the blood bath that awaits those who stay at the Cornucopia. I don't know how anybody could be so ready to kill so quickly, but I guess some people like the Careers wait their whole lives for this.
After clipping the pouch around my waist, I turn and run as quickly as I can now in the opposite direction. I hear screams and crashes behind me, but I keep going, my feet pounding against the dusty earth. The incline of the ground becomes steeper, and I have to reach my hands out to grasp some long grass in order to pull myself out of the basin. Once I've reached the top, I take a second to survey the land.
There are a few other tributes who have also climbed out of the basin, but they're far enough away and moving in different directions and I'm sure they're not a threat to me. Yet.
There are mountains on either side of the dam that gently slope downward. I see a few waterfalls and streams flowing down the mountains, and I'm sure there will be sources of water for us here. On the side opposite of where I stand, the ground stretches out in a large field, and I see several holes the size of boats in the field, some of them smoking ominously. I make a note to stay clear of there if I can help it. Behind me, the mountains stretch out into small hills and dark rocky formations, and I think these could be good places to hide. Aside from that, there's a large grouping of trees, and that's the extent of what I can see of our arena.
I jump and instinctively reach for my dagger when I hear footsteps running toward me.
"Annie! I've found you. You sure got out of there fast," Miguel says, panting to catch his breath, his hands on his knees.
It's just Miguel, I think to myself, and I'm glad that he remembered our deal to team up as allies. I had become so invested in figuring out where we were that I had completely forgotten to try to find Miguel. At least one of us kept our heads.
"Did you manage to get any supplies?" Miguel asks, and I notice a smeared cut on his cheek. It's stopped bleeding by now so it can't have been too deep.
"I got a few things. Come on, let's find some shelter before we stop for too long. I don't want anyone to catch up with us."
"Good point," Miguel says, and we begin running toward the rocks.
The rocky formations are larger and go farther than I thought they would, which is good, because it means there's plenty of space for the tributes to be spread out. We won't all be forced together like we would if the basin was the only place available to us. Miguel and I find a spot high up that looks like it could be a cave. I climb up the rocks, and then help pull Miguel up, and after some inspection, we agree this would be a good place to stop. It's hidden and high enough that even if we are seen by others, we'll have the high-ground advantage and know that they are coming.
The first cannon sounds to signal the end of the blood bath at the cornucopia. They always wait until the killing has subsided before sounding the cannons, which usually happen as soon as a tribute has died. Miguel and I sit silently as we count each cannon that sounds after that. Seven. Seven tributes are now dead, leaving seventeen of us in this arena.
Miguel clears his throat. "Let's take stock of our supplies."
Grateful for a task to keep my mind occupied, I open the pouch I've been carrying. I find that it's got a packet of seedy crackers, a protein bar, an expandable water bottle, and some bandages. I feel grateful that I also grabbed a dagger so that I have a weapon to defend myself with.
Miguel shows me that he found a spear that collapses into a tube small enough to fit in his pocket.
I never anticipated boredom being something I'd feel while in the arena, but with hours of daylight left, Miguel and I sit in silence, trying not to give away our hiding place. For a time, we hear someone walking our way, but there's a tumble of rocks and the footsteps recede after that.
As the sun begins to set, we agree to sleep in shifts. Felix and Mags instructed us not to light fires at night unless absolutely necessary, so instead we huddle close together to keep warm. The air turns cold quickly after the sun sets, and I'm grateful to have Miguel here with me. As the stars begin to appear in the sky, the anthem plays and projected in the sky are the faces of the tributes who were killed today. The girl from District Three, both tributes from District Five, the boy from District Eight, the boy from District Ten, the girl from District Eleven, and both tributes from District Twelve. There must have been a cannon fire later in the day that we missed, because that's eight people dead.
"Eight less people to worry about," Miguel says as he settles down next to me.
I nod, not sure of what else to say. "Get some rest. I'll wake you in a few hours."
Bright sunlight shines through my eyelids and I feel someone poking my arm. It takes me a moment to remember where I am.
"I gotta pee," Miguel says.
I close my eyes and breathe in. "Me too," I say.
We take turns watching for threats from our lookout point while the other climbs down and finds a nook to relieve ourselves.
We decide to hold onto our food for the time being. My stomach had gotten used to eating three full meals a day, and it growls in protest, but I know we've got staying power. My mouth, however, feels dry and it's difficult to swallow.
"I think we need to find some water," I say.
"I was thinking the same thing." Miguel says, looking up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight.
We decide our best bet is to head for the small mountains where I saw the waterfalls and streams, and we head back out through the mouth of the rock canyon. Our clothes blend in with the dark rocks around us, but I worry because my red hair stands out so much. Every small noise, including a mouse scuttling across some loose rocks, sends my hand to my dagger, but we don't come across anyone. I wonder where they all can be hiding.
Once we're out of the canyon, I survey the area, but don't see any immediate threats. There is smoke from a few fires down in the basin, but no sign of anyone else. I wonder what the cameras are showing everyone right now—what the Game Makers have deemed the most interesting footage, and how often Miguel and I have been shown. We can't have been too interesting so far, and I hope that trend continues because being interesting for the cameras in the Hunger Games means your life is in danger.
I can feel a tightness in my skin that tells me I'm getting sunburned on my neck, forehead, and nose, and after a night of sleeping on rocks, my body feels sore from the walking we've done.
As we make our way through some pale shrubbery, trying to be as quiet as we can, I see Miguel's trembling hand pointing out in front of us. There's a large footprint in the soft earth about a yard away, and some snapped sticks and bushes beside it. I look at Miguel and nod, letting him know I've understood what he was trying to communicate. I swallow hard and grasp my dagger, scanning the bushes around us for any more signs of a person. I take a tentative step forward, and that's when they jump out into the pathway.
The girls from District Six and Nine charge toward us with heavy rocks in their hands. They had been hiding behind a large bush. Miguel presses the button that releases his spear and throws it forward. It catches in Nine's leg, and she drops to the ground, but Six pounces on me and pushes me to the ground. She slams the rock, aiming for my head but I dodge it in time and she catches my shoulder instead. Deep, searing pain courses all the way to my hand, and I worry that the pressure of the girl on my chest will be enough to stop my heart.
I can hear Miguel wrestling with Nine a few feet away, but his strained voice shouts out, "Annie! Your dagger!"
I turn my head side to side, my arms holding Six's arms as far away from my face as possible, pain shooting through my left shoulder, my arm threatening to give out. My dagger is just a few inches to my right. With all my strength, I twist my body, flipping her off of me and reach my hand out to my dagger. I prop myself up on my arms and knees just enough that I'm able to swing my hand forward and I stab the girl in her side with my dagger. She groans and drops her rock, curling in on her side.
Frantically, I look around and see that while Miguel is on top of the girl from Nine, she's stronger than him and about to flip him over. Panting, I grip my dagger and run toward the pair, but the girl from Six grabs my ankle and I fall to the ground, my dagger clattering on the ground in front of me. The girl from Six doesn't make any more movement toward me, and I'm grateful because I'm shaking so hard, I don't know what I'd do if she attacked again.
Miguel turns his head toward the noise of my dagger and manages to get up and kick Nine in the face. He then pushes himself backward, grabbing my dagger in his own hand and stabbing it into the neck of the girl from Nine. I hear her gasping for breath, it becoming raspy and wet from blood, and then there's silence. Her cannon sounds.
I hear another cannon, and quickly look around, realizing it's the girl from Six. Her face is as pale as milk, and she's laying in a pool of her own blood, the metallic scent thick in the air. She must have bled out from her stab wound.
I killed her. My stomach roils and I vomit on the side of the path. Because I haven't eaten in over a day, it's just yellow bile that burns my throat and makes me cough and wish I had water to clear away the acid.
"C'mon, Annie, can you walk?" Miguel asks, a look of concern on his face. "We should clear out of here in case others see the hovercrafts and come to find us." Miguel's voice is shaky, but I know he's trying to appear calm. The cameras are sure to be on us now, and we don't want to disappoint our sponsors. He just displayed an impressive amount of fighting skill, after all. I'm not sure I would have been able to do what he just did.
Aside from my shoulder, which feels as though something's been fractured, and various bruises and scratches on both our bodies, Miguel and I appear to be unharmed and we cautiously make our way forward. We follow the trail, hoping its purpose is to lead us to water. We're walking for maybe ten minutes before there's a dip in the path and it slowly leads down to a stream. It's much larger than I had anticipated, but the water runs slowly.
Miguel and I both run to the water and stretch out our hands to gather some to drink. I'm stopped by a shock of pain that tells me I shouldn't move my left arm too much, and instead use just my right hand to cup a few sips of water. Once my immediate thirst is satiated, I unzip my pouch and pull out the collapsible water bottle to fill it up in the stream of water.
"Thanks for back there," I say to Miguel. He's now washing the girl's blood off his hands and arms. "You saved my life."
Miguel turns to me and gives me a brief smile. "Of course, Annie. That's what allies are for."
I look into his big dark eyes and think about how Miguel keeps giving me so much more than I am capable of giving him. Guilt pangs my stomach, because I'm older and larger. I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around. I should've been able to kill both the girls for him. I clip the now-full water bottle to my pouch, and my attention is caught by movement in the water on the other side of the stream.
"Miguel, get out of the water now!" I shout. I'm not sure what it is, but I saw something enter the water and my instincts are telling me to run.
Miguel doesn't question me, and turns to start running back up the hill, following me a few paces behind as I look backward over my shoulder. A large scaly creature crashes out of the water onto the bank, its large snout full of teeth opens wide. It snaps its mouth closed and begins to crawl forward on short legs which are surprisingly fast. A word enters my mind, crocodile, and I know that's what this creature must be, though whether or not it's been mutated by the Capitol I'm not sure. I do remember one thing I've been told about these creatures. "Run in zig zags!" I shout to Miguel, hoping that this tactic will be enough to slow the creature down.
I start to run in zigzags across the dirt path, trying not to stumble on rocks and shrubs. It's not enough for Miguel though, and soon he's overcome by the creature. I hear a scream and turn to see its body now covering his. I sprint back down the hill as quickly as I can, hoping it hasn't already dealt a death-blow.
When I reach them, the crocodile's mouth is snapping open and closed, trying to catch some part of Miguel's body, Miguel pushing it upwards with his arms. Without thinking, I thrust my dagger forward, hoping to hit any part of it. I stab the crocodile in the eye, and it recoils just enough for Miguel to slide out from under it. But we're not able to escape before it charges at us again, and as it opens its wide mouth, I throw my dagger forward with all my might. There's a strange sound and then the crocodile collapses to the ground, the blade of my dagger protruding from the back of its neck.
"Is it dead?" Miguel asks, frozen in place on the ground.
"Yes, I think so," I say, panting. I know what I need to do next, but I shudder to think of it. "Are you okay to help me with something?"
Miguel inspects his body quickly before responding, "Yes. I've only got a few bite marks, but nothing serious I think, thanks to you."
"Okay." I take a deep breath, watching the shiny tip of my dagger surrounded by dark scales. "I need you to help me pry open its mouth so I can retrieve my dagger." That dagger is my only source of defense in this arena.
Miguel agrees and we're able to open the mouth wide enough for me to reach in. It's slimy and still warm inside the mouth, and I inhale sharply when I feel a tooth cut into my upper arm, but I need to reach just a bit further until I can feel the hilt of my dagger, grasp it, and quickly pull it back out, receiving more slices on my arm as I do so. Miguel releases the crocodile, and we collapse to the side of it.
Exhausted from two near-death experiences, Miguel and I lay still, catching our breath. We're lucky nothing else comes out of the wilderness to attack us, because I'm not sure we'd be able to fight it off.
Once we've regained some strength, we take turns sipping water before I pull the bandages out of my pouch and begin bandaging up our cuts and bites, the bright-white of the bandages now in sharp contrast to our bloody and muddy bodies.
"Let's get out of here," Miguel says once we're sufficiently patched up, his eyes anxiously scanning our surroundings.
I quickly go back to the stream, searching for any other dangerous creatures, and refill our water bottle before we leave.
The sun begins to set as we make our way back through the canyon and to our elevated cave. Miguel needs to help pull me up this time, since any extreme movement causes searing pain in my left shoulder. A few minutes after we're safely in the cave, the anthem plays and we see the faces of the girls from Six and Nine shine in the sky. My heart aches seeing them. Those girls would still be alive if it weren't for us. I know that they were trying to kill us too, but it doesn't make me feel any better. Taking someone's life feels so different from what I'd imagined. So much more personal. And painful.
I look over at Miguel, and think I see some tears forming in his eyes. "Here," I say, reaching into my pouch, pulling out the protein bar, and breaking it in half. "We'll need to regain some strength after everything today."
Miguel wordlessly takes my offering, and we eat in silence. We agree on the same shift schedule we had the night before.
Just before Miguel settles down to sleep, I hear a soft beeping and see a parachute floating down toward us. It's a beautiful sight after all of the violence of the day. Eagerly, I open the container attached to it, and find some sort of stiff fabric and a bottle containing two pills. I give one pill to Miguel and swallow the other one myself, wondering what it could be for, but not questioning it. If it's from our sponsors, it's something we need, whether it's for pain or for venom we might have come in contact with while fighting the crocodile, I know we'll want to take it immediately.
"That must be for your arm," Miguel says, pulling out the black fabric, and I see that he's right. It's a sling.
I wrap the sling around my right shoulder and rest my left arm in its cradle. I settle down in a nook of the cave, the rocks feeling cool beneath my back. Between the sling and whatever that pill was, I feel the pain begin to lessen, and I sigh in relief. "Thank you," I say to the sky, finding some comfort in the familiar stars above. I hope our sponsors, and more importantly Mags and Felix, will hear my thanks.